Enchanted Pillows Help Comfort Your Sore Nose Issue
Ok blog readers, you don't like me, I don't like you, and I can't tell you how much I don't feel like writing a blog entry. But you know what? I am going to do it anyways, purely for the sake of principle. And that's pretty much the difference between you and I: principles.
For some reason, it's hard to say what I have been up to in the last few weeks. Definitely not anything useful. I did injure my ankle pretty bad around the time of my last post. I was playing frisbee at work and landed on it awkwardly, suffering a moderate sprain that hurts but which is healing. I'm still not 100%. In fact, right now I am what Rich Kim from high school would surely have called a "hurt piece:"
-I have been very awkwardly hunching over obsessive, overcontrolled drawings for hours on end, resulting in unbelievably old-manish chronic back pain. It's even spread to my chest. It hurts to swallow, move my head, and lift my right arm.
-I've developed a hard little lump where my thigh meets my torso, right between two important private parts. It wouldn't bother me so much if it wasn't in just the right spot to be irritated by pedalling my bike. The more I pedal, the worse it gets. Did the pedalling cause the lump or did the lump cause the pedalling? These are questions only science can answer, but fuck going to see a biomedical professional. The last time I did that I was told the that lump on my balls was just an enlarged sweat gland. Total waste of an afternoon.
I have been watching lots of Pitt basketball. Too much one could say. The team fought through the majority of the year with a top ten ranking, but lost 3 of their last 4 regular season games. Despite the fact that there is no logical reason why it should affect my life in any way, I didn't take it well. The last game was particularly devastating (they ruined a perfect season at home as well as a bye in the first round of the Big East Tournament in a ridiculous loss to a very mediocre Seton Hall team) and I was unbelievably upset. To the point, really, where I temporarily lost all perspective on life had to sit myself down to disconnect from Pitt basketball.
It really makes no sense. My fandom exists in a complete vacuum, even more so than the other parts of my life. I don't associate with other Pitt fans. I don't go to Pitt games. I experience all of it through a virtual reality of newspaper articles, chatrooms, and television broadcasts. For all I know, the game of basketball doesn't even exist. And yet there I am, at Green's Sports Bar in San Francisco, ready to rip apart the bulletin board in the bathroom in response to a simple series of photons that interacted with my retina moments before.
I continue to interview for jobs that I either don't want or won't be offered, mostly for sport I suppose. The latest is a series of teaching positions at independent (aka private) schools. I don't know what I would do if I was actually offered a full time teaching job at a Catholic school, but I guess a part of me is perversely interested. The exhibit developer job at the Exploratorium didn't work out because they decided to hire nobody. That's really the best outcome I could have hoped for. Hooray for deficits.
Slowly, slowly, slowly I build my online presence. Get ready for feather2pixels.com, world.
And somewhere in between all those distractions, I am getting ready for an art show. Remember the back pain? Well, it will all pay off when I get to showcase all my new work for the three people who make it to the back wall of the Art Explosion studios during our spring show on April 28th. Now that's exciting.
For all my spinning wheels, Carly has been one busy little bee with 19 credits worth of all nighters and last minute papers. I'm glad she is busy though (although not too busy to miss the pretty model show). She has even been waking up before me 3 days a week, something which of course isn't a contest, but for those who are counting, starts to close the 80,000-15 lead I hold. She tires to make up for it by cheating me at Scrabble with 47 point "words" such as "ZAS." Hasbro might let that shit fly, but Gloria Fischer didn't raise no fools.
For some reason, it's hard to say what I have been up to in the last few weeks. Definitely not anything useful. I did injure my ankle pretty bad around the time of my last post. I was playing frisbee at work and landed on it awkwardly, suffering a moderate sprain that hurts but which is healing. I'm still not 100%. In fact, right now I am what Rich Kim from high school would surely have called a "hurt piece:"
-I have been very awkwardly hunching over obsessive, overcontrolled drawings for hours on end, resulting in unbelievably old-manish chronic back pain. It's even spread to my chest. It hurts to swallow, move my head, and lift my right arm.
-I've developed a hard little lump where my thigh meets my torso, right between two important private parts. It wouldn't bother me so much if it wasn't in just the right spot to be irritated by pedalling my bike. The more I pedal, the worse it gets. Did the pedalling cause the lump or did the lump cause the pedalling? These are questions only science can answer, but fuck going to see a biomedical professional. The last time I did that I was told the that lump on my balls was just an enlarged sweat gland. Total waste of an afternoon.
I have been watching lots of Pitt basketball. Too much one could say. The team fought through the majority of the year with a top ten ranking, but lost 3 of their last 4 regular season games. Despite the fact that there is no logical reason why it should affect my life in any way, I didn't take it well. The last game was particularly devastating (they ruined a perfect season at home as well as a bye in the first round of the Big East Tournament in a ridiculous loss to a very mediocre Seton Hall team) and I was unbelievably upset. To the point, really, where I temporarily lost all perspective on life had to sit myself down to disconnect from Pitt basketball.
It really makes no sense. My fandom exists in a complete vacuum, even more so than the other parts of my life. I don't associate with other Pitt fans. I don't go to Pitt games. I experience all of it through a virtual reality of newspaper articles, chatrooms, and television broadcasts. For all I know, the game of basketball doesn't even exist. And yet there I am, at Green's Sports Bar in San Francisco, ready to rip apart the bulletin board in the bathroom in response to a simple series of photons that interacted with my retina moments before.
I continue to interview for jobs that I either don't want or won't be offered, mostly for sport I suppose. The latest is a series of teaching positions at independent (aka private) schools. I don't know what I would do if I was actually offered a full time teaching job at a Catholic school, but I guess a part of me is perversely interested. The exhibit developer job at the Exploratorium didn't work out because they decided to hire nobody. That's really the best outcome I could have hoped for. Hooray for deficits.
Slowly, slowly, slowly I build my online presence. Get ready for feather2pixels.com, world.
And somewhere in between all those distractions, I am getting ready for an art show. Remember the back pain? Well, it will all pay off when I get to showcase all my new work for the three people who make it to the back wall of the Art Explosion studios during our spring show on April 28th. Now that's exciting.
For all my spinning wheels, Carly has been one busy little bee with 19 credits worth of all nighters and last minute papers. I'm glad she is busy though (although not too busy to miss the pretty model show). She has even been waking up before me 3 days a week, something which of course isn't a contest, but for those who are counting, starts to close the 80,000-15 lead I hold. She tires to make up for it by cheating me at Scrabble with 47 point "words" such as "ZAS." Hasbro might let that shit fly, but Gloria Fischer didn't raise no fools.
posted by Jon at 10:38 PM
1 Comments:
my online scrabble buddies are just more fun to play with.
Post a Comment
<< Home