The End of November and the Start of What?
Yesterday I had thanksgiving with James. All and all, not a bad day seeing as we both would have ended up alone otherwise. We spent most of our time talking about the sort of people who do spend that holiday by their lonesome and who we know that will spend future Thanksgivings in that way. It was cruel and hysterical.
I’m currently looking through a small pile of old 35mm and 110 film that I need to get developed and I can’t help but be distracted. The joys of quitting my job have swiftly been replaced by the pains of looking for another one. Media startups, internships, writing copy, video editing, advertising and a cadre of other avenues have tasted wrath of my resume but none have been felled as of yet. I’m thinking about beginning cover letters with “fuck you” as my hook from now on.
November is quickly becoming my least favorite month of the year. Last year my grandfather died and it contributed to one of the worst depressions I’d ever experienced. A string of poor choices and isolation followed that event and it all cost me more than I care to think about. This year, November has been shaping up to be not go great either. With the exception of a trip to New York with some travel money I had set aside, I’ve really not left this house. My mother just today went to the hospital for some mysterious and exceptionally painful illness. This eerily follows a hospital stay by my father and an overall lack of communication between me and the members of my immediate family.
Grad school continues to taunt me. A large part of me longs to return to school and continue my education immediately while another suggests I put my energies into creativity and financial stability. All I know for sure is that I long for adventure and stimuli. In fact, it is probably the only thing that gets me out of the house. I no longer have any semblance of a sleep schedule so, A few days ago I went to get some 3am coffee and doughnuts. The only place that was open was a doughnut shop that I frequent on Sunday mornings. The has, for the last few months, appeared to be in a perpetual state of repair. The dining area is small and, despite appearing to have all of the necessary equipment already, the owners have built a tiny makeshift kitchen in one corner of the store. Even though it is already a rather small building, very little of it is actually used for doughnuts and doughnut making. There is something like a gutted phone booth in the dining area and a lot of small pipes and metal tubing near the entrance.
On this particular night, there was a disheveled man talking loudly to the tiny table he occupied. He only paused for a second to take a bite of his jelly filled snack or to sip on his coffee. The rest of the time was full tilt madness. Apparently the table had offended him and he was forced to remind it that it had no real knowledge of who he was and shouldn’t suggest that it did. His mantra was, “Shut up. You da- you da- you don’t know me. Eh? Eh?! What do you think you are a sandman?! You don’t know who I am! You don’t know what I do! Don’t talk about what is yer know when ya don’t!”
The large clerk glanced up from her magazine to check on him every so often while waiting on my coffee to brew. I wonder if she just claimed she had to make another pot because she didn’t want me to leave right away. Then again, she didn’t really seem all that concerned with the argument between the table and the man. Another customer walked in and had looked around the building confused. He asked, “Could I get half a dozen doughnuts and a medium latte?”
The clerk responded, “We don’t have lattes.”
“Wait, isn’t this a Dunkin’ Donuts?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t this used to be one?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what is it now?”
“…Not a Dunkin’ Donuts.”
I got my coffee and walked home without incident.
Yesterday I had thanksgiving with James. All and all, not a bad day seeing as we both would have ended up alone otherwise. We spent most of our time talking about the sort of people who do spend that holiday by their lonesome and who we know that will spend future Thanksgivings in that way. It was a little cruel and a lot hysterical, we both made the list.
Thinking about it, I’ve lot a lot of things in the last year but I suppose that is just the way life goes. Draper claims that, “You’re born alone and you die alone and this world drops a bunch of rules on top of you to make you forget those facts.” It seems plausible. I was always a pragmatist with an idealistic streak but I think I got caught up by my own lofty goals and high standards. I think I am going to just need to shut off for a while and grow a beard. Then, once I am totally invincible again, I will cut that thing off and make my way.
Here are some Pictures for Sad Children to wrap with:
_________________________________
I’m currently looking through a small pile of old 35mm and 110 film that I need to get developed and I can’t help but be distracted. The joys of quitting my job have swiftly been replaced by the pains of looking for another one. Media startups, internships, writing copy, video editing, advertising and a cadre of other avenues have tasted wrath of my resume but none have been felled as of yet. I’m thinking about beginning cover letters with “fuck you” as my hook from now on.
November is quickly becoming my least favorite month of the year. Last year my grandfather died and it contributed to one of the worst depressions I’d ever experienced. A string of poor choices and isolation followed that event and it all cost me more than I care to think about. This year, November has been shaping up to be not go great either. With the exception of a trip to New York with some travel money I had set aside, I’ve really not left this house. My mother just today went to the hospital for some mysterious and exceptionally painful illness. This eerily follows a hospital stay by my father and an overall lack of communication between me and the members of my immediate family.
Grad school continues to taunt me. A large part of me longs to return to school and continue my education immediately while another suggests I put my energies into creativity and financial stability. All I know for sure is that I long for adventure and stimuli. In fact, it is probably the only thing that gets me out of the house. I no longer have any semblance of a sleep schedule so, A few days ago I went to get some 3am coffee and doughnuts. The only place that was open was a doughnut shop that I frequent on Sunday mornings. The has, for the last few months, appeared to be in a perpetual state of repair. The dining area is small and, despite appearing to have all of the necessary equipment already, the owners have built a tiny makeshift kitchen in one corner of the store. Even though it is already a rather small building, very little of it is actually used for doughnuts and doughnut making. There is something like a gutted phone booth in the dining area and a lot of small pipes and metal tubing near the entrance.
On this particular night, there was a disheveled man talking loudly to the tiny table he occupied. He only paused for a second to take a bite of his jelly filled snack or to sip on his coffee. The rest of the time was full tilt madness. Apparently the table had offended him and he was forced to remind it that it had no real knowledge of who he was and shouldn’t suggest that it did. His mantra was, “Shut up. You da- you da- you don’t know me. Eh? Eh?! What do you think you are a sandman?! You don’t know who I am! You don’t know what I do! Don’t talk about what is yer know when ya don’t!”
The large clerk glanced up from her magazine to check on him every so often while waiting on my coffee to brew. I wonder if she just claimed she had to make another pot because she didn’t want me to leave right away. Then again, she didn’t really seem all that concerned with the argument between the table and the man. Another customer walked in and had looked around the building confused. He asked, “Could I get half a dozen doughnuts and a medium latte?”
The clerk responded, “We don’t have lattes.”
“Wait, isn’t this a Dunkin’ Donuts?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t this used to be one?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what is it now?”
“…Not a Dunkin’ Donuts.”
I got my coffee and walked home without incident.
Yesterday I had thanksgiving with James. All and all, not a bad day seeing as we both would have ended up alone otherwise. We spent most of our time talking about the sort of people who do spend that holiday by their lonesome and who we know that will spend future Thanksgivings in that way. It was a little cruel and a lot hysterical, we both made the list.
Thinking about it, I’ve lot a lot of things in the last year but I suppose that is just the way life goes. Draper claims that, “You’re born alone and you die alone and this world drops a bunch of rules on top of you to make you forget those facts.” It seems plausible. I was always a pragmatist with an idealistic streak but I think I got caught up by my own lofty goals and high standards. I think I am going to just need to shut off for a while and grow a beard. Then, once I am totally invincible again, I will cut that thing off and make my way.
Here are some Pictures for Sad Children to wrap with:
_________________________________