i’ve been thinking a lot about time. and how often in my life there’s a negative correlation with the impact something has on me. that is to say, the most impactful moments of my life are often the most fleeting.
i accidentally started a band when i graduated high school. i would record songs onto a four-track cassette deck that i had picked up a few years prior. i’m not sure why i hadn’t done it before. maybe i didn’t know how to use it.
the recordings were crude and out of time. they contained vocals and electric guitar. the vocals always distorted. not as a effect, but because i didn’t understand gain-staging or signal flow. to this day, those demos are some of the worst things i’ve ever produced.
naturally, i showed them to everyone.
i’m not sure if people were just being nice, but i only ever received positive feedback. my boss at pizza hut even asked for a copy so he could listen at home. one time he played my demo at work as leisure music.
it wasn’t long before i found a drummer. a few months later we played our first show — a party in someones backyard. we were alright. and even if we weren’t everyone was too drunk to care.
we started playing shows every weekend. eventually we added a bass player that never learned the songs. something that will always puzzle me about that band is that we got worse the more we practiced.
a lot of important things happened as a result of being in that band. i moved into my first apartment. i got my first real job. this led to me meeting one of my best friends to this day. she was the one that convinced me to go to college.
this is also where my path to working in the film industry began. i had always been fascinated with audio and recording, but this was the first time i considered working in the entertainment industry. it’s also when i began learning about mixing and multitrack recording.
my band recorded a four song demo in a friend-of-a-friends basement studio. i was never happy with the final product. it was too clean. i used to blame the engineer, but over time i realized that it was my fault for not communicating properly my vision for the songs.
that was first time i had ever seen pro tools. in retrospect, we should have had the engineer record onto my cassette deck. or use it in the process somehow before going digital. i still tell myself that i’m going to rerecord those songs one day. that was over ten years ago.
the band was together for less than two years. we broke up so i could go to college. i’m not sure why that required breaking up. i would have still had time to practice and play the occasional show. i must have been looking for an excuse, because we played our last show in january, seven months before my first day of school.
i played three shows as a solo act before giving up on music entirely.
what’s interesting about this period in my life is that i remember it being longer. it’s been over ten years, but i still listen to those poorly recorded songs like it was the best time of my life.
maybe it was.
my day consisted of drinking and sleeping. i wasn’t upset about anything. this is just something i do when i’m not working. it wasn’t for lack of wanting to do anything. quite the opposite. i actively wanted to sleep. the alcohol facilitated this.
i have two more days before i go back to work. im working on the weekend, which is unusual for my industry. it’s been a few months since i’ve had to work on a weekend.
i used to do it all the time. that’s when i worked. that changed when i joined the union. now, even though i’ve had a week off, i find myself annoyed that i’m working on a saturday. i’ve become a spoiled brat.
i don’t know how i existed up to this point. in high school i would work every friday, saturday, and sunday. yet i still had the energy to play video games and hang out with friends everyday. now it’s chore to get me out of my apartment on a consecutive day off.
it’s not like i have anything better to do. today was a perfect example of that. but i promise that if someone asked me to come out i would have said no.
it’s nothing personal. i just like going out on my own terms. and my terms are usually limited and only breached for necessities like getting more booze or going to work.
i can’t remember how i got this way. my best guess is that it started because i was too broke to do anything and it became habit. i remember living in my first real apartment and going out for fun all the time. i would go alone, but i would still go. sometimes i would go to the store just to look at things. i would go to movies. i would read.
something changed. it must have happened when i started living alone. that’s definitely when it got out of hand. i got used to spending time alone. i began to prefer it. if people asked me to hang out, i’d make excuses or change the topic.
i still do that.
i gave up caring recently. i shouldn’t have to force myself to be something i’m not. being around people feels forced most of the time. i don’t know how everyone does it. and i’m not sure i care to learn.
and yet i still find myself craving intimacy. it’s funny how the mind will do that. i genuinely enjoy being alone, but i regularly find myself desiring a partner. but whenever someone tries to get close i become uninterested.
the last four years of relationships have messed with my head. which makes it hard to commit. i’ll meet someone. things will go great. then for no reason they’ll get bored. this typically takes place over a three month period of time. sometimes it only takes a few days.
i’ve also noticed a pattern. the women that are drawn to have all experienced trauma. they just got out of a multiple year abusive relationship or they’re currently in one. i’ve dated a few polyamorous women.
this has been going on since i graduated college.
someone asked me to define my feelings for better call saul recently and i wasn’t able to do it. i’ve been reviewing media for the last ten years. never professionally, but i still feel like i should have been able to conjure a few kind words about my current favorite show.
i’ve said on more than one occasion that i enjoy better call saul more than breaking bad. but when someone asked me to explain myself, i couldn’t do it. not even a single sentence. i was speechless.
the best i can guess is that has to do with how i consumed breaking bad versus how i’m consuming better call saul. breaking bad was over when i watched it. i was able to binge the entire series in a few weeks. whereas, i’ve been watching better call saul as it’s coming out.
technically, i’m putting in the same amount of watch time, but it’s spread out over several years with better call saul. the perceived commitment is larger, even when i factor in that i’ve watched some seasons of breaking bad multiple times. life is weird like that.
i’ve had similar experiences with dating.
i’ve binged all the long term relationships in my life. we’d go one date, and things would just work. i’d wake up after two years, like, “that was a cool show, but after the second season the writers got lazy.” i did that four time in a row before i started to prefer movies to tv.
or maybe the movies preferred me.
a friend of mine had a party this weekend that i didn’t attend. i didn’t have a proper excuse. i just didn’t go. when he asked me weeks in advanced, i told him i wouldn’t go. the night of the party he was surprised i didn’t show up.
i used to like going to parties. i’m not sure what changed. i still love to drink. if anything, more than ever. too much. but i stopped going to parties once i was old enough to purchase my own liquor.
that’s not entirely true. i enjoy room parties at anime conventions, but something about the setting makes me more comfortable. people make me nervous. when i’m at a party i feel like there’s an expectation that i socialize with everyone. when that doesn’t happen, i just feel anxious.
there isn’t any pretense when it comes to room parties. no one goes to a room party to hang out. we’re all there for the free drinks. sometimes people will stay in a room for an extended period of time. but most people leave after they get their drink and move on to the next room.
an anime convention room party, for those outside of the fandom, is an officially sanctioned party generally held in a hotel room. from what i understand, they’re mostly a midwestern phenomenon.
several of these room parties will be held in a section of the hotel, each serving a different type of adult beverage. you only get one drink at a time so most people rotate between all the parties to maximize alcohol efficenticy.
i’m not sure why people hold these parties. they aren’t being paid, and they usually only make enough tip money to cover the cost of the booze. but they do it every year. bless their hearts.
something about non-convention parties turns me off. i don’t like being surrounded by people. and the weird glorification that surrounds getting intoxicated is strange to me. i drink all the time. there’s nothing special about it, and i don’t need an excuse to do it.
my relationship with alcohol is strange. i drink almost daily, but the goal is rarely to get drunk. i do. often. but the reason changes every time. sometimes it’s depression. sometimes it’s boredom. it’s almost always to help me sleep.
having a new bed has helped with my insomnia greatly. i’ve been falling asleep faster and staying asleep. i’ve been waking up with minor back pain, but i think that’s my body getting used to the mattress. i received an email from nolah saying that it could take a month my body to adjust fully.
considering i haven’t slept in a real bed in over a decade, with the exclusion of the occasional hotel visit, i wouldn’t be surprised if it took longer.
my bed showed up today. it didn’t take that long, but i still wish it would have shown up sooner. if they had given me the option to pay more to get it overnight, i would’ve paid it.
either way. it’s here. it’s great. and i spent a fair portion of the day sleeping in it.
i’ve never had a real bed. i guess that’s not really true. i’ve had beds. but i’ve never had a really nice bed. i’ve always slept on whatever was given to me. usually this was whatever my mom didn’t want anymore.
that’s not as bad as it sounds. there was a time where i had a queen with a nice headboard. i was 15, i think. there was a weird phase i went through went i put my box spring next to my mattress and had a super bed. i don’t remember what that was about.
i was not happy the day i had to give up that bed. we had moved to a new house, and my room was in the basement. as always. the mattress fit just fine, but the box spring was too big to make it down the stairs. somehow that meant going back to a twin. a fucking twin.
that part of my life is blurry. i remember sleeping right outside my room, but i forget why. that must have lasted at least six months, because i have several memories of it. why i didn’t i have a room?
my room proper would flood every time it rained, so there’s a good chance that i was waiting for the floor to dry, but that couldn’t have taken more than a few weeks.
some of my fondest memories of that house are from when i lived in the main area of the basement.
i woke up hungover to the most important text of my life. i had been offered a job on a major motion picture. not just a few days, but the whole movie. a job of this caliber would allow me to renovate my room sooner than planned, and allow me to live comfortably during the long, cold jobless winter.
i have weird job. on paper, i’m unemployed with alarming consistency. today i worked on a show. one day. i did my start paperwork. finished the day. and now i’m don’t work there anymore. they could call me back for another day, but they’re under no obligation to do so.
i work next saturday and sunday on another job. just those two days.
as i was leaving work tonight i received a panicked call from someone who accidentally got two jobs on the same day. that’s doesn’t happen to normal people. i told him that i could cover for him, but ultimately his boss hired someone else because he didn’t know me.
i don’t mind the fear of not having a consistent job. i got over that a while ago. my concerns have shifted to the opposite end of the spectrum. i dread the never-ending sea of paperwork. always. doing. start-work.
there are only a handful of payroll companies in my industry. i don’t understand why i have to keep filling out the same forms for the same companies several times a month. did they lose the last one i sent in?
i’m sure you’ve surmised that i can’t tell you any details about my big job. if i’m being honest i don’t know any details about it yet. i’m still waiting for the script. all i know if how long it is and what it pays.
the loft bed will be here ahead of schedule.
my mattress is showing up tomorrow.
it’s a good time to be a bed.
tomorrow i’m meeting someone i swore i’d never meet. i’m in a weird parody dick cult. i think. i’m not really sure anymore. but i’m having drinks with three other members. it’s probably a mistake. they’re probably going to kill me. i’m sure i deserve it if they do.
i’ve become obsessed with alice’s restaurant by arlo guthrie and i’m offended that it’s not his top song on spotify. the song inspired a god damn movie. i guess that was another generation, but i listened to his top song and it’s nothing special.
alice’s restaurant is a weird song. not even really a song. it’s more like a live comedy sketch that was recorded while a band played. it’s almost 20 minutes long, and it’s perfect. i promise.
i’ve been having somewhat of a mid-life crisis lately. not sure what it is, but i’m getting bored of my usual creative outlets. for the last ten years i’ve been primarily known as an anime podcaster. but it’s just not doing it for me anymore.
it’s not that i stopped watching anime. if anything my regular consumption is higher than usual. i’m watching two shows week-to-week, while occasionally binging a 13-episode series on the weekend. i’m just getting tired of being associated with the community.
after the announcement of the crunchyroll original, high guardian spice, my twitter timeline exploded with negative energy. i’m not interested in watching the show, myself, but seeing a fandom that i’ve considered myself apart of throwing a tantrum for several weeks in a row is exhausting.
i don’t even care what side you’re on anymore. you’re all nuts. and you’re all ruining everything. no one does any research anymore. no one uses logic when they argue. people take things too literally. but only when it’s convenient. i just want out.
but i still want to create. something. i don’t know. simply consuming media doesn’t satisfy me. i spend all my time making other people’s art a reality. i want something of my own. even if it’s just a dumb blog where i’m spewing nonsense.
i’ve been thinking about what i could replace anime podcasting with. making videos is alluring, but it’s not a skill set i have, nor wish to attain. that is to say, i don’t wish to put in the work to attain those skills.
i’m also not sure what i could create that hasn’t already been done better. most of the videos i watch likely required countless hours of research. not to mention the time editing. no thanks.
writing an original story was also something that i considered. but it’s not something i’m mentally ready to commit to. i don’t have an ideas readily available, and i don’t want to spend a day brainstorming for something i’ll inevitably give up on in a month. maybe not the most positive approach, but it’s realistic.
for as long as i’ve been podcasting, i’ve been known for changing formats without notice. i’ll start and stop shows and start them again without provocation. it’s different for every show so it’s not worth explaining. not now, at least.
anyway, what i think i’m going to try doing is writing a few hundred words each day. five days a week. more if i feel like it. and at the end of the week i’ll make a recording of each blog entry. that way i can satisfy my writing and my recording brain.
how long will this go on? i can’t say. will it even happen once? maybe not. i just don’t want to stop podcasting, but i don’t want to keep doing what i’m doing. i also want to make weird podcasts that only i will like. like when i did nightmare boat. no listened to those but me, but they were really fun to work on.
uh. i don’t have anything else to say. and my laundry is almost done. fuck.