The Amanuensis Is Out
Yes, a new look, a new template: I’m not really original when it comes to web design, and I’m too lazy to try my hand at coding a fancy site or somesuch. I’m no webmaster, honestly; not sure what I am, but I have a long list of “Am Not”s.
Looking at the archives, I’ve been at this Blogging thing for awhile, I think—then, I think of the stuff on my hard drive, on my laptop, on burnt CDs, and scrawled on pages in my drawers, and realise precisely how long I’ve been at this writing thing. And I think of the reams and reams of sketches, and the chalkboard in the attic, and the cardboard portfolio in my closet, and the napkins that used to hang on the wall at my local Pizza Hut, and I realise how much longer I’ve been at this whole Art thing. I turned twenty-two last month, on March 18th: that’s my birthday, the day after St. Patrick’s Day, or National Hangover Day as I affectionately call it.
It’s been a long, short-lived life, thusfar. It all means something, I’m sure—what, though is a question to be pondered—perhaps, the question. It’s definitely the quintessential Philosopher’s Question, worthy even of unnecessary capitalisation.
Been reading T.S. Eliot’s poems, again. Been listening to a lot of The Mars Volta, whom I am vastly more fond of than I ever was of At The Drive-In. Been doing a lot of classwork. One day, about a year and a half from now, I’ll have two degrees: a Bachelor’s of Art in Fine & Performing Arts with a Concentration in Fine Arts and a Minor in Literature, and a Bachelor’s of Science in Computer Foundations with a Concentration in Computer Science and a Minor in Mathematics. That’s a lot of words to describe five and a half years of college education in, basically, random shit. Some people make decisions in college about life-goals or whatever, some people just get excessive amounts of degrees; one day, I hope to have two Master’s and two more Bachelor’s, maybe a Doctorate.
This entry is brought to you by the word “contrived,” which someone who was once my friend and now I am no longer very fond of has told me is a word I use too much.
Oh, you may or may not notice the link to the right labeled the "Official U.R.M. Companion." That is a link to a Livejournal I've opened, for a purpose as of yet undetermined. It's under construction, as they say, so if you follow the link and it's not much of anything to see, then . . . It's not been started.
Adios.
Looking at the archives, I’ve been at this Blogging thing for awhile, I think—then, I think of the stuff on my hard drive, on my laptop, on burnt CDs, and scrawled on pages in my drawers, and realise precisely how long I’ve been at this writing thing. And I think of the reams and reams of sketches, and the chalkboard in the attic, and the cardboard portfolio in my closet, and the napkins that used to hang on the wall at my local Pizza Hut, and I realise how much longer I’ve been at this whole Art thing. I turned twenty-two last month, on March 18th: that’s my birthday, the day after St. Patrick’s Day, or National Hangover Day as I affectionately call it.
It’s been a long, short-lived life, thusfar. It all means something, I’m sure—what, though is a question to be pondered—perhaps, the question. It’s definitely the quintessential Philosopher’s Question, worthy even of unnecessary capitalisation.
Been reading T.S. Eliot’s poems, again. Been listening to a lot of The Mars Volta, whom I am vastly more fond of than I ever was of At The Drive-In. Been doing a lot of classwork. One day, about a year and a half from now, I’ll have two degrees: a Bachelor’s of Art in Fine & Performing Arts with a Concentration in Fine Arts and a Minor in Literature, and a Bachelor’s of Science in Computer Foundations with a Concentration in Computer Science and a Minor in Mathematics. That’s a lot of words to describe five and a half years of college education in, basically, random shit. Some people make decisions in college about life-goals or whatever, some people just get excessive amounts of degrees; one day, I hope to have two Master’s and two more Bachelor’s, maybe a Doctorate.
This entry is brought to you by the word “contrived,” which someone who was once my friend and now I am no longer very fond of has told me is a word I use too much.
Oh, you may or may not notice the link to the right labeled the "Official U.R.M. Companion." That is a link to a Livejournal I've opened, for a purpose as of yet undetermined. It's under construction, as they say, so if you follow the link and it's not much of anything to see, then . . . It's not been started.
Adios.
posted by c.Jay Wrong at
11:21 AM
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