One cigarette away, from being dumb

Not really, I haven’t smoked in years and years – pretty much since they stopped importing Drum. And I moved here (10 years ago)

Oh shit.

My 10-year anniversary passed. All these years I’ve been thinking about it. I meant to have a big to-do, cry a lot…and it just came and went. I mean, really, what’s an appropiate celebration for the worst decision of your life…

Anyways. What was I talking about? Oh, let’s just ramble.

So, remember how I was all, ooooh, some Brooklyn artsy hipsteretteĀ thinks I’m awesome, maybe she will let me move in with her and find me a job that lets me stay out all night and not really do any work at all?

Yeah, I didn’t think you would. You’ve got to go read her post about sewing up her tent for Burning Man…I don’t want to give any spoilers, but all of you cat-loving readers should be able to relate. Maybe give her some tips on her tent? I gave her $5. I would want someone to do it for me, so I did it for her. That’s pretty much how I live my life.

Well, try to.

Plus, her post made me laugh, which is always a nice way to start the day, and her comments, well, added on = the best five minutes a morning could have. And that I will probably have this entire day.

“I fucking love you, and I live thisnblig. You are an inspiration to Burners EVERYWHERE! I’m not sure what happened there, but that should have read “I love this blog” but living thisblig sounds pretty great, too.”

I think “blig” sounds better. Less like vomiting. BUH-LOG

I finally got on the treadmill. Shit. Not a week too soon…3 minutes in I was so ready to get off.

…and stop walking on the treadmill. ZING!

I am still very angry and upset at my remaining projects. They are the first two I thought of. That I’d been thinking of doing pretty much since last year. They are the first two I started, when everything fell together. They are the two practical ones (belt and cloak). And they are making me cry. Well, the belt is. I haven’t touched the cloak in a couple of weeks.

Fuckit fever has settled into Goodenough chill. “…it’s a mess, and I don’t really like it, but good enough.”


2 Responses to “One cigarette away, from being dumb”

  1. alexis Says:

    This post made MY day! I can’t believe you linked me — thank you! And thank you so much for helping me out!

    Please come stop by the Hookahdome (8:00 and Esplanade) at some point during the burn! You can ask for Alexis or Tabatha! Tabatha is my girlfriend, she’s a virgin (ooooOOO!), and we both think you’re awesome!

    This blog made MY day!

    We’re angry about our remaining projects, too. We had big dreams for astroturf outfits, but it looks like the only thing we may do is astroturf suspenders. Tab has a bunch of button outfits though (like, COVERED in buttons), so she’s going to have a great first burn.

    Safe journey home!

  2. N Says:

    goodenough chill, yeah. I have always been frustrated by my projects. You know popsicle sticks and a jar of paste, and in my mind, I’m seeing Cinderella’s palace. And in reality, it’s a fucking mound of sticks and cracking white stuff that never dries. I thought grownups were cruel to encourage creativity when I was little. I think this is also why children eat paste. So the creative images in my mind are not always fun and joyous, they are difficult and hard to harness. This includes figuring out how to make a three speed gearing for a trike, and how to put a subwoofer in an ammo can. O.k. I have a reg old bike. and a reg old boombox. It’ll be o.k. either way. goodenough. (but it won’t impress anyone!! ah is that it? hmm.) I don’t work well under a deadline, but I don’t work at all without one. so…

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