Mendacious D style odds and ends at the beginning of another year, at least as we arbitrarily mark it.
Interestingly, for the collidge-student-heavy neighborhood we live in, typical weekends get kind of noisy; heck, I remember MY first beer. But last night was unexpectedly quiet, for the most part. I guess all the students were back in their hometowns, behaving themselves, rather than in our neighborhood pretending to be adults. We’ll take it; it’ll warm up all too soon.
Myself, I laid kind of low last night, watched the Walking Dead marathon all day, then movies all night. Time went by regardless of whether I was paying attention, and the calendar still changed. The planet continues turning whether I participate or not; while that is a thought that does not come easily to a blogger, it is oddly comforting. Besides, I had my share of beverages the night before; I trust you all will tell me who I insulted and now need to tender apologies toward. In fact, I have a couple of ‘apologies’ pre-loaded in the hopper…
This particular incarnation of the Empire (it regenerates from time to time, like Doctor Who) has only had its doors open a little over six months. Opened to acrimony and displeasure from pretty much everybody, and has gone downhill from there. So, Winning!
As is the way with Imaginary Digital Friends (and real ones, for that matter) when emotions are running high, there were arguments and misunderstandings and vituperation. And sometimes people move on. It’s unavoidable and bittersweet. For my part, I regret the parts I have played in such things, and apologize for the way I said things; words are a blunt instrument in my hands, and easy to raise bruises with. I say the things I do with passion, but not enough forethought; and the ‘Publish” button is all to easy to push. [in fact, it should be made harder to find. Perhaps have some word verf on it, saying things like “Are you sure you want to do this?” “Have you checked for spelling errors?” and “I can’t let you do that, Dave”].
Personas on the Internozzles are funny, weird things, and it’s easy to forget there are people at teh end of them. It all seems like a story. And once you get to know these personas, sometimes (usually involving alcohol), it is all too easy to punch through the persona and hit the person behind the facade. It’s happened to me, and I know I’ve done it to others. These acts we act are very often not much of a disguise at all. It’s not a formal resolution, but I recognize that I need to consider such things a little bit more, as well as perhaps making some strides toward writing what I mean, not just what sounds good.
Look, I’m not going to sand off any rough edges; these days, rough edges are all I have left. But wielding the blogpost with more skill is a worthwhile goal.
Thin Line Between Love and Hate, indeed , Chrissie.
I have friends and colleagues who are having just as much fun as I have been with this stupid profession. “Profession”. I kind of get the impression that Republicans really hate architects, which is kind of weird; I would think pretentious twits who serve their every egregiously tasteless impulse would be more popular. I guess banksters are more favored. In any case, I know one who saw two years of 10% salary reductions, capped off with a layoff of half the office and a 50% salary reduction. I guess that’s one way of making people move on voluntarily, rather than taking the hit on your unemployment payments. And the bigger firms are scavenging smaller projects that would normally go to people like me.
In any case, I have had some success on a professional level this past year; last year’s major project won the Mayor’s Design Award, and this year’s won a renovation award known as the Timmy. They got built, on budget and on time (mostly) and are rented up to very positive reactions from locals and the tenants. I have the next one in the pipeline, and as is the custom, will be forced to do most of my work before receiving payment for nearly any of it, because what am I gonna do? Since nobody is hiring, it keeps the wolves from the door. But the next couple of months look to be kind of high stress.
I still enjoy what I do, when I get the chance to do it; I still get a special feeling (not THAT kind of feeling, you perverts) when seeing new buildings that sprung out of my mouldering, shambling imagination; I still believe that the work I’ve done contributes positively to the City and people’s lives.
Besides, I sold that stupid guitar all those years ago, and this is kind of all I know how to do. Although if Blizzard is looking for a Gameplay Environment Designer, I am open.
The Road to the Stupor Bowl goes through Lambeau Field this year, which is never a comforting thought to the other NFC teams. Sorry, Brando. Your high school shop-teacher quarterback acquitted himself pretty well, actually, and between KC and the Bears, other teams have a blueprint for beating the Packers. Unfortunately, that blueprint involves running the ball a lot, and if a team does that, they still have to outscore Green Bay; which has only happened, umm, ONCE last year.
I was just digitizing Learning To Crawl, and mis-typed the fourth song as “Watching The Clouds”. Which is a better song title, Chrissie. But we were all so much younger then, you know? And yes, B^4, I have seen the Pretenders play. Simple Minds opened up; Hynde was preggers with Jim Kerr’s child. That kid is now eligible to vote, drink, and join the Army. I continue to time-travel, at one second per second. Good times, good times….
2012. Huh. Who’d a thunk that zombies would make it this far… and we still don’t have our fucking flying cars.