| Goodbye 20s. |
[Aug. 17th, 2011|11:57 pm] |
I turn 30 in 24 hours and 30 minutes. I didn't realize how weird this would actually feel.
Things have been so different for the last year. I never had any idea my life could be so good. Everything I could reasonably expect to be going well is. I'm a little lovesick but it seems unimportant.
I feel like I am finally starting to look my age. That's me above, on a roof in the Mission; it is the rare picture of me now where I am not smiling. This is the first time I've ever really been comfortable in my own skin. I maybe don't have the best grip on my hormones, but otherwise I feel mostly like I know what I'm doing. Also, a gal tried to get me to hook up with her in the bathroom of the bar tonight. Gross, but nice to know I still can.
When my mom was this age she'd just given birth to me 5 days prior. She was married to a man 11 years her senior and they had a house. Every year I see her ghost for the entire month of August because we always celebrated together. I can't even begin to imagine having a life like hers. I have to think that while maybe we wanted different things, I can have the life I do because of her. It might be in spite of her, but I think all that matters is the end result.
I just hired someone at work, I stole them from Google and they are packing up their life and family and moving here from Los Angeles. I have been out every night this week and in the office an hour early every day. I did two shows on Monday and saw 5 bands yesterday and hung out with friends from out of town today. I come home and I do more work. I am planning a giant Halloween party, since all I've ever wanted is a fucking rad Halloween full of devil babes. I am trying to do a huge comic undertaking, and could be totally in over my head but I'm going to try any way. I have so many drawings in my head that need to get on paper.
I think for 30 I'm going to be less worried about what I finish, and more concerned with what I try. I don't want to lose my curiosity. I want to be a disruptive person. I hope that by 35 I'm the VP of product for a successful company. I hope that by then I've published a graphic novel and pressed a record. I hope that by 40 I'm ready to buy a house in the Bay. I hope that somewhere along this decade I fall in love with someone who loves me back. I hope that I remember to take breaks and travel. I hope I can give myself radical change often enough to keep from getting too comfortable.
It's nice to finally love myself. |
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| These hands they shake, from all the things they break |
[Apr. 4th, 2011|11:40 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | The Fresh & Onlys - Play it Strange | ] |
I worked on a comic tonight since I was too exhausted to clean the house. Sometimes I need a weekend from the weekend, I saw 10 bands in 2 days. I still didn't get enough drawn and the stuff scattered all over my house from a blur of a week is starting to make me crazy. I have an absurd surplus of weed, I picked up God's Gift on Sunday and I'm hoping it can help me sleep before 2am.
I can't stop listening to these songs:
My favorite thing to do is walk all over the city, stoned, with my headphones on. It's like watching a movie. These are in steady rotation along with Electric Wizard. I have worn holes straight through 3 pairs of shoes. I usually walk faster than everyone else. If it's dark I smoke. When it stays warm I want to walk across the bridge.
There is a girl I've had a big crush on for a while. I asked her out once at a party and she said she would but she was seeing someone. She was super sweet, and I think now they broke up. I want to talk to her again, but not at a dance party and I don't want to be a weirdo internet stalker. I saw her Facebook because we have a mutual internet friend, so I know she djs and we like a lot of the same music and I think comics too. I think she would be pretty into the stupid stuff I draw. I wish I could just pass her a note in math class. I did a sketch for a comic about asking her out, I'm thinking of finishing it and sending it to her, but I feel like that's 40% pretty cute and 60% weird and creepy. |
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| Almost a year |
[Apr. 3rd, 2011|01:58 am] |
In spite of some really weird shit I managed to hold my own and have a good day. Everything has been really weird lately, to the point I find myself needing to step outside it all. I've had insomnia for months. I'm stress barfing. I need to remember to be responsible for my own happiness. I'm trying to figure out some career stuff, I took the last year off from worrying about it while I acclimated.
I'm surrounding myself with the things I love: drawing, my monster dogs, lots and lots of music and comics. I've been meeting new people. I would love if I could make time for myself to play music more.
I went to the best show I've seen in a while tonight, I have such a huge crush on this band I drew a comic of for Noise Pop. The first thing I did when I got home was tear open the new cd and listen to it like I was 15 again. I'm going to at least one show every week this month. I'm pretty surprised I survived Hard French and made it back out tonight, normally I pass out around 9 afterward.
I'm going to try to go to the beach this week and clear my head. I like to smoke a joint and listen to the water for a few hours with a sketchbook.
San Francisco remains a fascinating and wonderful place even if some of the honeymoons have worn off. I keep myself too busy to worry about everything else falling apart around me. Most importantly, I'm one stamp away from a free gram of weed at the dispensary. |
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| Letter to someone who doesn't exist any more |
[Mar. 8th, 2011|11:39 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Lykke Li - Youth Knows No Pain | ] |
After work today I walked to the pier and smoked a joint like we used to do. We never watched the sun set there though. I tried blowing smoke rings over the water but I'm not very good at it. I haven't thought of you in a while, but I had a weird dream the other night, and you've been haunting me ever since. I don't know why I still sometimes think about you; I didn't know you long enough for you not to forget me. For a fleeting second I fantasized you would show up and we'd talk like normal. I wound up having a pretty okay time by myself, but I wish I didn't miss you. |
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| You've been talking in your sleep again |
[Feb. 21st, 2011|11:35 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Shannon and the Clams - Sleep Talk | ] |
Last week I drew a fucking lot. I made a new friend. We met up at a hacker space where I had to find a touchpad and enter a code into a URL on my phone to open the door. We checked out a new bar where they have an organist. Someone I thought was a creepy drunk guy approached us, but he turned out to own an ice cream parlor and gave us cards for free scoops.
Friday morning I gave a talk to my friend's design class and everyone I know had an insane commute home. Transit was fucked up and traffic was a stand still. It was cold and rainy and we had a most awkward dining experience. Some of us went to Stevie Nicks Trannyshack where I drank overpriced Johnnie Walker Black and waited 30 minutes for coat check. This is the apparently broadway of drag shows. The show started with the Muppets theme song. My favorite part was Gold Dust Woman.
Saturday we went to the Chinatown for the New Year parade even though it was still freezing and pouring rain. We went to a bar called Li Po which progressively revealed itself to be larger and larger in the back behind the shrine. I made friends with a group of Chinese gay men who kept yelling "twinsies" because we were all wearing red plaid shirts, and then they insisted I take a picture. I went outside someplace I thought was discrete to smoke pot and got hassled by a cop and almost arrested. Back at the bar I got fucked up on Mai Thais with three kinds of rum and Chinese whiskey, which tastes like bourbon mixed with jager. Heidi bought a racist hat and wore it into the dim sum restaurant. After we ate we caught the last dragon of the parade, before meeting other friends at a weird Chinese disco by my work. I was drunk mad because I invited out this flirt of a girl we knew and someone with a girlfriend swooped in and usurped all the flirting.
Sunday we were stuck in the car in traffic forever and basically saw all of San Francisco before making it to the East Bay. We had burgers and a joint with a bud in Oakland before hitting Berkeley, which is apparently the Haight with a mall sprinkled on top. We went to the top of Twin Peaks for the sunset, which has views of the entire city. Then we drove down the street from the Mrs. Doubtfire house to Citizen Cake for...cake. I tried to flirt with the chick behind the counter but was not successful. On the way back I was haunted by a one night stand for the 3rd time in the last month. I went home and smoked pot and watched The Muppets.
This morning I woke up and smoked with buds before brunch, then we hit the art supply store where I got some presents for friends. I found spray painted portraits of famous SF drag queens on the sidewalk and saw some guy on ecstasy pole dancing with the crosswalk sign. I joined a new dispensary, but they were out of God's Gift so I left with something called Purple AK-47 instead and a brownie. Some guy offered me crack at the BART station. Half the brownie knocked me out until evening when Karl wanted to meet for drinks. I threw out the toothbrush of an old flame, long overdue. I decided to experiment with a new route which was a mile up a crazy steep hill but thanks to the pot brownie it felt like I floated up. l had couple drinks and headed home to put the finishing touches on the shirt ads and a comic.
Tomorrow I have a date, am getting drunk at a tiki bar before infiltrating the Church of Scientology Wednesday, am going to a sludge show Thursday, and then trying to catch two shows in one night Friday for Noise Pop. The Noise Pop shows will be transcribed in comic form and at some point I have to sit in for a podcast. Friday morning I have a design lecture. At some point I have to draw a comic for Thursday, maybe I will draw the day in Chinatown. I plan to listen to Shannon and the Clams over and over and over. |
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| Long and likely boring self actualizing |
[Nov. 16th, 2010|11:53 pm] |
It's been almost 7 months since I moved. Time is so weird, it seems like it was yesterday I was standing outside the Beachland in the cold, smoking a cigarette as fast as I could. I was trying to have a good time while it felt like everything around me had fallen apart. It also seems like I've been here a year for every month that goes by. I miss my friends and family, but I don't feel like they're that far yet, since I spent the last year I was in Ohio basically hiding in a cave of anger and self-pity and barely saw anyone anyway. I do miss the genuine appreciation some people at home have for what awesome things they do have around them, some people here take it for granted. Also, no joke, I miss Ohio record stores (but not those fuckers Bent Crayon or Music Saves.)
This is going to sound so stupid and trite it almost makes me want to barf on myself, but the best thing about coming here is remembering who I was. I'd forgotten for a really long time, and a change of scenery gave me a lot of perspective about about needs, wants and priorities. I am incredibly grateful. My job is really great, I love the people I work with, there aren't insane politics, I feel empowered and supported and I'm given some awesome and challenging, high-visibility projects. The most important opportunity is finally getting to develop my professional voice.
I started drawing and playing guitar again, in an extremely regular and serious but fun way. I spent almost every day of my life drawing until I graduated art school, at which point I promptly burnt the fuck out in the wake of a shitty job market and mounting student loan debt. This means it's a big fucking deal that I quit doing both mostly for 7 years and am just now starting again. It feels like coming home. I know who I am when I'm drawing. I am fucking surrounded by things that enable me to draw. There is a figure drawing studio 3 blocks from my house. There's a thriving illustration community with seriously compelling shit going on. There are 3 art schools. There's a comic shop also 3 blocks from my house, which doubles as a gallery for illustrators. There are tons of independent comics pouring out. And down the street from my work, is the cartoon and illustration museum. What. The Fuck. Why didn't I do this sooner?! My fucking coworkers go draw with me!
I could have been such a nicer and more pleasant person if I had moved a long time ago.
I've been almost in love. It didn't work out. I wonder about a couple things, but I don't have regrets because I'm pretty sure I never made her feel anything short of awesome. I was sad for a minute, but it was a positive experience and I'm thankful and lucky so many of my first awesome memories here were shared with her. This is maybe also the first time in my adult life I've experienced change I couldn't control and totally dealt with it like a normal person.
I don't mean to sound like an asshole who thinks they have everything figured out because they moved to a cool city and blah blah that makes me a better person than someone else or something. Some people can do this on their own no matter where they are and thrive. Awesome for them, but it took moving to motivate me to take care of myself instead of being pissed off and bitter all the time. I am seriously so much nicer and more sane now that all of my thoughts aren't fogged up with negative shit. It's easy to fall into old habits though, I saw myself starting to slip when it seemed like things weren't going my way. But I got a grip on that shit, remembered I have a choice and now I'm focusing my energy on doing things that make me feel awesome again and all is right. |
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| Suspended in glass |
[Sep. 21st, 2010|09:23 pm] |
My mom died four years ago, tomorrow. College is four years. High school. A lifetime. Enough to become a completely new person. Would she recognize me now? When we last met I was living a suburban, hetero normative analog, a few months into my first job in an actual design studio. It was a life she could finally swallow, but took me years to figure out was never me. It was my best effort to imitate my parents and what I thought I was supposed to do.
From her death sprang a closeness with my sister and stepfather, the latter of I'd said barely a handful of words to in as long as I could remember. I became aware of my own mortality, and realized the relative length of every relationship I will ever have with another human being is a blink or two. The time without her grew upright in my spine and gave me a freedom I am guilty for. How did I get from there to here? Was it because of what she gave me- or because of what she took with her?
I look at pictures of her now and see myself. When I was born she was the same age I am now. Here she is, 28 years ago in the Japanese Tea Gardens, a brief stroll from the house of a girl I am dating. Just two days ago I carried a heart past this place to my apartment, a strange offering to the painted lady. I never felt like Ohio was home, this has always been it for me. What does a carrier pigeon do after 30 years, when the message is finally delivered? |
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| It doesn't matter who you think you might be you are. |
[Aug. 17th, 2010|08:15 pm] |
Thursday I start the last year of my 20s. Someone I know said being aware is what it means to grow up, this reverberates warmly in my head. It was hard to swallow that I've mostly been battling myself all these years. Putting the brakes on my life came so easily, I regret how insurmountable I believed controlling it was for so long. I gave up a lot for the dose of self awareness, and remind myself of the price every day. I didn't move to San Francisco and live happily ever after, there are parts of me I still hate, but I'm in a good place to recognize and change what I dislike.
I entered this year lost. I thought I would find myself in a new city, but learning brings more questions. Who are you when you can finally be whoever and whatever you want? I always believed I had a strong sense of identity, but I was defining myself by what I wasn't. I'm trying to speculate less on who I am, and more on who I want to become.
My wish for 29 is to stop obsessively focusing on the next move and spend some time in right now. I wish to take more responsibility for my own happiness. I wish I will not always feel I'm missing something. I wish to recognize the line between healthy honesty and transparency- and self interest. I wish to not project my problems onto other people. Lastly, I wish to always assume people have the best intentions instead of the worst. |
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| Really, I should be at the park right now |
[May. 30th, 2010|03:50 pm] |
I have been in this city a month now, and the honeymoon is definitely not over. Things are pretty much perfect. I love my job, I love my friends, I love my house, I love my neighborhood and I of course love my monster dogs.
The people I work with are really positive and nice, I have a lot of respect for my peers, they have impressive backgrounds and do awesome work. We get beer in the office a lot and there are a million amazing places for lunch with gorgeous views. Lunch on the waterfront is like a mini vacation every day.
My buds here are great, we have a standing Friday dinner date which is always a fun time. Everyone is so laid back and there is no pressure. We hang out in the park a lot, open container laws are not enforced. I bring a dog and we all eat weed cookies and then the choco taco cart rolls up.
I don't know what to say about my neighborhood except where else can you buy a burrito, bondage and a bong all on the way home? It's kind of a stoner foodie's paradise. Every weekend is some kind of party or festival, today there were tons of ladies in skimpy grass skirt outfits with fruit on their heads and tall boys.
The love life is good, my dance card is full at the moment and I am totally enjoying the single life and plan to do so for a while. There are just too many awesome ladies not to. Also dogs, totally a girl magnet. (So long as they aren't barking.)
Speaking of, Rowan works with a trainer 4 times a week and is learning not to bark at everything that moves. I am hoping she will have a happy city dog life here real soon like Harper. Harper gets to go with me pretty much everywhere, even in the stores because everyone here loves dogs. She is rather fond of the laundromat.
Tomorrow we're driving down to Santa Cruz and are going to bum around the beach all day and have weed edibles.
While I miss my friends and family, I have to say this is the first time I can ever remember being really happy. I feel like I belong here, I feel like I can be the person I want to be here. I think you can choose the kind of person you are anywhere, but it's hard to do when people already know you and have established ideas and expectations. There was just too much at home to remind me of things I didn't like about myself. I got to start over and I feel positive all the time. I'm always going to see the world through a skeptic's lenses, but for once things don't seem so grim. It is weird not to be cranky but I think it makes me a more fun and energetic person. |
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| Moving |
[Apr. 8th, 2010|11:11 pm] |
I don't know if anyone still reads this, since I don't think I've updated in a year.
Lots of shit went down. I needed a big change. I accepted a job in San Francisco and will be hauling ass across the country with my two dogs in two weeks.
I will miss all of my Ohio buds, and I hope people come visit. I'm trying to reconcile being generally cranky and pessimistic with the fact nearly all of my dreams came true in one fell swoop. I had all these goals to hit by the time I was 30, and I've surpassed them all, and I still have a year and a half left to go. I don't really have much to be cranky about anymore.
<3 |
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