measuring the mundane: the sequel
a couple of weeks ago, i did a survey.
i did it again, below, to compare what changes and what remains the same between then and now. surprisingly, well... maybe not surprisingly, not much really changes. i seem to be saying "bye" to someone right before i do these quizzes:
i'm finally home!
i think i now know what inspired randy newman to write "i love LA."
one of the first things i did today when i got home, was rush to my bathroom and use my own toilet!!!! i can't tell you how much i developed my quadriceps this past month on the road, "hovering" over suspicious public toilet seats. the little things... it's the little things.
i'm going to be turning 29 this week and i'm not happy about that. when i was 27, i was content. i wanted to remain 27 years old forever. now, that i'm standing on the brink of 30, i realize that i need to get a bit more serious. ideally, i'd like to be more financially stable--get out of debt, pay off my student loans, get my taxes done in a timely manner, pay my bills on time... all that tedious mundane stuff that supposedly measures "maturity." whatever. i need to find an affordable acupuncturist and chiropractor... that's what. i called one today. i hope he doesn't leave me hanging on the telephone. yo, blondie!
i'm having a quarter-life acid flashback
i'm living in a dorm room in an eerily empty dorm building on the campus of reed college
in oregon. i've never been to portland. i'm freaked out because i'm all alone ("t" & "t" left a day early for home--ending our month-long "rock star without the glory and groupies" training tour). it's a bit depressing. it's as if i returned to my old college freshman dorm hoping to relive good times from college days, but instead found out i was grasping for familiar memories that are no longer there. i'm starting to feel my age. i know i should embrace it, but i'm such a nostalgic sucker, i am a bit down that those days are gone. maybe i should tune into livinginthepast.com.
god, how fucking pathetic.
even though this month has really kicked my ass with all the touring and training, i'm now scared to come home. i'm scared that routine of home will be worse than the constant limbo i've been living for the past month. i've slept in 8 different beds over a period of one month, and i've only unpacked my suitcase once. thank god i stocked up on the underwear.
to kill the silence in my lonely dorm room that followed a lengthy "it's so painful to be an aural witness to what's going on in your life" conversation with "h," i've turned to listening to online radio (via a stolen ethernet cable--i'm desperate, i tell you). online radio is creepy. i feel like i'm listening to cyber ghosts. there's no breathing body in some far-off studio hand-selecting the eclectic musical collection on beatlesarama.com.
i'm aching for something familiar, but instead, i only got one wings
song and unrecognizable "not even b-side, but maybe c-side" john lennon tracks and "is this a cover?" versions?? of beatle-esque songs sung by artists who may or may not be stevie wonder or ray charles. there's NO HUMAN in this cyberspace to tell me who's who or what's what. why am i still listening to this? i think i need to find a classic rock station. this online radio shit is creeping me out. regardless, i know this odd time will pass...(i'm working on my optimism, fyi).