Huzzah Wha?

I have a blog?

Well now.

Spent the last few time intervals struggling with school, disappointment, and bemused obsession.

Expect more posts soon.

yours,
Noah J.

Writer's Block

It is not a good thing! It is, in fact, a very bad thing, and a perfect explanation why there hasn't been a substantial post in relative ages in either of my steam-powered binary word collectors.

It's a terrible rut to get in- I've been doing nothing, less and less as the days go by. I'm starting to become threatened by my word processor; my laptop will sit open on the couch in the living room as I sit nervously in the kitchen, trying desperately to avoid making eye contact. Every time someone asks me what I've been up to this summer, I reply that I've been working on personal projects, writing and such. Every time someone asks I feel worse about the delivery and feel more and more like a fraud.

Whine, complain. Complain, whine whine whine, bitch, moan, complain.

Complain complain.

yours,
Noah J.

Found a Job...

...and quit it immediately. Okay, to be fair, I'll be officially quitting it in... about seven hours, but even so, the effect is the same so cut the whining because I am sick of hearing it.

Isn't that a lovely picture? It only half relates; the notion of vegetarian shoes though... pure charm.

It wasn't the worst job, it was just boring and soul crushing and awful. Like customer service, except that people actually want information from you when you're standing around in the middle of Target like a very active coma victim. They're much less appreciative when you jump onto their doorstep begging for money with idealism leaking out of your nostrils. It's worse than them just not wanting it, it's them loathing you, the very fact of your existence about the equivalent of a particularly large and needy mosquito.

Canvassing. Door to door canvassing. The institution, Wisconsin Environment, lovely people really, had me memorize some lines, stuck a badge on me and kicked me out on my own into an upper middle class neighborhood obviously more worried about the length and coloring of it's lawns than the air around it. Now admittedly, global warming is not something the human brain was ever designed to fear but I would like to think that someone would give a damn- exactly the sort of thinking that gets one twenty eight doors in your face.

I don't care if I'm broke as hell. My self-esteem can only take so much, and enough people dislike me already.

No point convincing the whole of suburbia that I'm no good.

yours,
Noah J.