Not a lot of flash here, but the handful of you who still read this might be interested to know that:
I'm single again. This time for good (and yes, I know that's what was said the last time, but this time, there's, like, apartment transfers and such). It was mutual, and there are no hard feelings. Perhaps one or two soft, possibly fragile feelings, but no hard ones. I do, however, miss Paxi terribly. Paxi is her dog, and I love(d) him as if he were a son.
My bills have gone up considerably, which means I'm very grateful to have my job(s), even when it (they) bothers(r--fuck it) me. I will, however, be working more at the bar (two or three nights a week now) in order to meet the somewhat aggressive savings goals I've set for myself.
My brother seems to be doing well at basic training, though he has remarked to my mom that (implicitly relative to him) there are a lot of immature people there. Which would suggest to me that he is undergoing basic with a division of infants. But in any case, I am relieved and I pray for him every time I think about praying.
The band continues to fight the good fight, booking shows, trying to get the new album up on iTunes (why is it that major label bands have trouble keeping their songs from being put on iTunes early, while nobodies like we are can't get our record up for download on time or, now, two weeks late? Wait, never mind), and searching for the exact right balance of booze and execution.
To that point, here's a graph:I've been journaling a lot, though not where anyone can read it. In general, it helps me remember things that happen, because there are lots of things I forget, like, for example, that I intend to write things every day, seeing as how entries are often a week or so apart. It's good at reminding me of my various adequacies and inadequacies.
The Fort Worth Weekly thing is fun, mostly, though my editor often translates my submissions into Dudebro, sometimes resulting in adjudicated intentions and ruined jokes. But, like Homer's idea of what a pelican should say when being used as a cement mixer, "it's a living."
I'm also trying to get a D&D game going.* For reals, even. At 30 years old. Having never played it before. What? Is that weird? I drive a van, too. And I ate a whole can of bean dip with Wheat Thins the other night. I know, I know. I'm quite the catch. I'd love to meet your beautiful daughter, too, but right now I'm just not in a good place.
*This is hopefully to charge my imagination with fantastic inspiration. Plus, honestly, it sounds fun.