Wednesday

I have very very little to say other than:

My presents have all arrived and I am pleased with my new toys. Happy Birthday to me. The HP netbook is very very small and suits all its intended purposes perfectly. My PowerBook seems gigantic in comparison. Back when I was a sophomore in college, and lugged around my desktop and laptop, I could never have imagined that one day a $300 computer would be developed to do exactly what anybody ever wants a computer to do: check email, hit refresh on Twitter, and watch YouTube videos. We were so naive five years ago.

I did nothing creative today, but I caught up on a backlog of projects, so I guess that counts. Yes, actually, I am sure that counts.

The fellow at Bevmo who recommended the Bear Republic Hop Rod Rye is a genius because it was delicious. Behelmeted as I was at checkout, the cutely nose-ringed cashier recommended water bottle cages that fit pint bottles best, and when I mentioned flask cages, she laughed and said, "Not that I would know anything about that...." It was the first time I'd seen a woman working there. I fell in love.

I've been chain-smoking with the sort of desperation that half-cocked depression will bestow upon you. I am one part indulging myself in this and one part truly struggling, but never without a strange sense of humor and optimism about it. It's going to be okay and I know it, so I've fully adopted the angst-y artist aesthetic as I sit here on the floor of my messy studio apartment flanked by beer bottle and ash tray, my disheveled hair illuminated by the screen of my very very tiny netbook as I pour forth these words disguised as an inside joke.

As I slope toward bed, I am excited to use the brand new shower products I purchased at Target today. For this small point of light I am grateful, not gonna lie.

When people meet me in person they are alarmed at my general observant silence.

That's the inside joke I share with only myself.