(no subject)
It would only be fair to tell you, right from the beginning, that there isn't anything universally significant here. There are only some scattered thoughts on past and future events, and mild contemplation on the present.
I'm getting on a plane on Wednesday evening. I'm flying with my family to our old stomping grounds-- that crusty little village located almost directly in the center of the boot-shaped land mass that is the state of New York. I haven't been back to Johnstown since my grandmother's funeral, and that was last year. This visit will be under happier circumstances. We're going up to celebrate the 50th wedding anniversary of my remaining grandparents. Fifty years is a long time to stay committed to someone else; some people can barely put up with themselves for that long. On top of that, my cousin Eric and I are going to go around to some bars and I'm going to experience the nightlife that Johnstown has to offer, of which I'm sure there is none. It's going to be fun, though. I like going up to see my family, even though the whole lot of them are some of the strangest people I am ever going to have the privilege of knowing. It's going to be strange not having Grandma and Grandpa McGivern there, though. It will probably always be.
I'm in the process of having my senior check and applying for graduation in May. It makes me nervous to think about, but this will be my last year spent within the relative security of higher education. After this, I'm all on my own. The job market awaits, but I'd like to circumvent the real world altogether. I enjoy being in Shallow Palace and, while we're nowhere near the level of proficiency and prolificness that I would like, I believe that we are a good band and have the potential necessary to rise to the next plateau. It's just a shame that finding the one thing that reminds you that you are alive doesn't guarantee any kind of money or security. If that were the case, society would be nothing but a disjointed collection of artists, athletes, and fornicators, all of us wealthy, all of us happy. And that would be the end of civilization, as it requires a certain amount of monotony and disenchantment to function as it should.
I've been dating Lampshade/Amanda for a little over two months now. So far, everything has been going well. It's nice when someone that you enjoy spending time with turns out to like spending time with you, as well. The relationship is relaxed and uncomplicated, and that suits me just fine. We watch movies, we drink cocktails (bourbon and Coke for me, vodka tonic for her), we sing songs, we talk about things that are on our minds (some serious, some couldn't be further from), and sometimes we don't do anything at all. The whole thing seemed very appealing from far away, and I was pleased to discover that it was once I got up close.
I want to see The Darjeeling Limited. Wes Anderson has always been one of my favorite filmmakers, and his latest doesn't appear to be anything short of his usual brilliance. His movies are like Ernest Hemingway's prose on film; confident, symmetrical, and full of characters whose stoicism and ungarnished dialogue can be everything from melancholy to humorous, all within the same scene.
That's all, I suppose.
I'm getting on a plane on Wednesday evening. I'm flying with my family to our old stomping grounds-- that crusty little village located almost directly in the center of the boot-shaped land mass that is the state of New York. I haven't been back to Johnstown since my grandmother's funeral, and that was last year. This visit will be under happier circumstances. We're going up to celebrate the 50th wedding anniversary of my remaining grandparents. Fifty years is a long time to stay committed to someone else; some people can barely put up with themselves for that long. On top of that, my cousin Eric and I are going to go around to some bars and I'm going to experience the nightlife that Johnstown has to offer, of which I'm sure there is none. It's going to be fun, though. I like going up to see my family, even though the whole lot of them are some of the strangest people I am ever going to have the privilege of knowing. It's going to be strange not having Grandma and Grandpa McGivern there, though. It will probably always be.
I'm in the process of having my senior check and applying for graduation in May. It makes me nervous to think about, but this will be my last year spent within the relative security of higher education. After this, I'm all on my own. The job market awaits, but I'd like to circumvent the real world altogether. I enjoy being in Shallow Palace and, while we're nowhere near the level of proficiency and prolificness that I would like, I believe that we are a good band and have the potential necessary to rise to the next plateau. It's just a shame that finding the one thing that reminds you that you are alive doesn't guarantee any kind of money or security. If that were the case, society would be nothing but a disjointed collection of artists, athletes, and fornicators, all of us wealthy, all of us happy. And that would be the end of civilization, as it requires a certain amount of monotony and disenchantment to function as it should.
I've been dating Lampshade/Amanda for a little over two months now. So far, everything has been going well. It's nice when someone that you enjoy spending time with turns out to like spending time with you, as well. The relationship is relaxed and uncomplicated, and that suits me just fine. We watch movies, we drink cocktails (bourbon and Coke for me, vodka tonic for her), we sing songs, we talk about things that are on our minds (some serious, some couldn't be further from), and sometimes we don't do anything at all. The whole thing seemed very appealing from far away, and I was pleased to discover that it was once I got up close.
I want to see The Darjeeling Limited. Wes Anderson has always been one of my favorite filmmakers, and his latest doesn't appear to be anything short of his usual brilliance. His movies are like Ernest Hemingway's prose on film; confident, symmetrical, and full of characters whose stoicism and ungarnished dialogue can be everything from melancholy to humorous, all within the same scene.
That's all, I suppose.