Bunnies, rainbows, stardust

I’m in desperate need of a time-out and a self-overhaul.

I started compiling a list today. Of things I want to do, need to do, better fucking do. I was adding things to it all day. Of course, this is probably going to go the way of most of the other “to do” lists I put together, but I’m going jot it down here anyhow . . . because I have it on my mind and this is my blog to do with as I wish. So suck it.

- No more diet coke before noon (this is a very good idea)

- Buy new pair of Responsibility Pants and focus on doing freelance work in a timely fashion, going after more freelance work, and doing better work for clients

- Wear new pair of RPs to get out of financial clusterfuck that I—and only I—have created for myself

- Apply same determination and drive used at work to health and self-preservation (read: use gym membership, stop eating like a cow, get a hell of a lot more sleep, drop-kick stress level, etc.)

- Start friggin’ drawing again already

- Engage in some extracurricular creative study (get to a bookstore once a week and sit with design mags for a hour—thank you, Timmy)

- Give clothes to Good Will, sell shoes on eBay, take books to second-hand library bookshop (a.k.a. sort through clothes, stuff . . . shed extra baggage)

- Pick up one of the many, many, many books lugged home and take less than 3 months to finish it

- Stop waiting 2-4 weeks before returning emails, phone calls, friend interaction (get head out of own ass)

- Read stack of magazines taking up valuable floor space

- Buy camera, learn how to use it, start taking photos of my important people

- Buy strings, pick up dusty guitar, figure out how to put strings on guitar, start teaching self (again) how to play guitar (like it worked out so well the first time?), impress everyone, get record deal, play at Brad and Angelina’s wedding

My. Wasn’t that exciting?

Wow, I really forgo a blog theme, don’t I?

And now, a treat:



Darling remember from when you come to me
that I’m the pretender,
I’m not what I’m supposed to be
but who could know, lf I’m a traitor?
times the revelator, revelator.

They caught the Katy, and left me a mule to ride.
The fortune lady came along she walked beside,
but every word seemed to date her.
Times the revelator, the revelator.

Up in the morning up and on the ride.
I drive in to Corning and all the spindles whine
and ever day is getting straighter.
Times the revelator the revelator

Leaving the valley and fucking out of sight
I’ll go back to Cali where I can sleep out every night
and watch the waves and move the fader.

Queen of fakes and Imitators
Times the revelator.


And now I'm going to sleep. Because it's late and I'm posting lists on my blog instead of working on bullet #4.

Good God, I hope I can get out of my head soon. If someone could let me know how to get out my own way, I'd appreciate it.


UPDATE: New title for bloggage entry, for one who felt dejected.