Mid-Mid Life Crisis

I think I'm having one.
I don't usually get serious on this thing, so just bear with me, OK?

Is anyone else going through this or am I the lone asshole (aaays-howl) having trouble reconciling my life?

Everything is pretty OK, all things considered. I mean, I don't have dental insurance, but aside from that everything is alright. But it seems like everything that's been happening lately has been blowing my mind to such a degree that I'm having trouble waking up in the morning. And I'm not even talking about things on any kind of a grand scale, I mean it's not like Apocalypse-is-coming type shit. It's more like.... Okay, yesterday I came to the realization that I worked a nine-to-six job. Not unusual, mind you, or anything that I didn't aready know, but then it hit me. And it's not like I sit around doing sweet TPS reports all day or anything, I have a creative job in a creative field, I sit around playing with clothes and drawing and listening to death metal all day. But still. I have to show up before 10 or risk a lecturing. And I can't leave before 6. And the realization of that fact was so staggering that it made it really difficult to get out of bed all of last week. It just feels like... medicority. I mean, is it just me? If I just start drinking more will it be better?

Is anyone else going through this?

And it's not just work. It's work, it's friendships, realtionships, family, it all just kind of feels like work. I went home to my parents' house last weekend, and being sheltered in this tiny protective bubble in which there's always food on the table and my mom does my laundry without me even having to ask, it was so easy and such a relief. Don't get me wrong, I don't for one second forget why I left in the first place. But this is the alternative. Which begs the question... Is there another? I feel like I've been asleep for the last six months. Every once in a while there'll be these little pockets of adrenaline that will make me jolt and remember that at one point in life it was always lively and fun, and now it's just... stilted. And long and boring. It's not any kind of a relief that I feel like I've become a total bummer, and that this persistently shitty mood that I've lodged into is affecting other people. I am hoping that this is just what happens when people realize that they're entering the twilight of their youth. So is it just me?

OK, this is all too weighty. Here's a picture of Vlade and Kelly Bundy to brighten everyone's mood.

I promise I won't do this again. From now on we are going back to nothing but poop talk and pictures of homeless people. Okay? Thanks for reading.

Boy, Is My Face Red.

I'm sorry, everyone. I went away to the reds again. Chulo was supposed to let everyone know, but he's been so swamped with planning my jet-setting for the year that he totally dropped the ball. He has been reprimanded severely and placed on employment probation. Watch your ass, Chulo. In the impasse, I've received an overwhelming number of e-mails asking me what the hell the deal was, and how you all thought I was back on track with the blog writing, and all of that. I'd just like to say for the record that I thought about three people total read this thing, and that if I'd known I was disappointing quite so many people my dilligence would have been on an upswing, so please accept my sincerest apologies and gratitude for your patronage.

Highlights from Nashville:
1) Something that I will refer to as 'titties in my face.'
2) The discovery of a little known local gastrological gem called 'Frito Pie.' They open a bag of Fritos and stuff it with melted cheese and deep fried ground beef and a ton of black bean chili (the gross cheap Hormel kind out of a can), and then shake it all up, pour it into a cardboard boat, and serve it to you with a spork. You can get a Frito Pie, a Beast and a cheesewurst (brats stuffed with American) for less than four bucks. Granted, you have to go into a sketchy alley full of dudes to get it, but TOTALLY worth the momentary fear of the unknown.
3) Billy. Billy is a young man (about 350 lbs.) with the sweetest disposition and manners. I met him outside the Frito Pie place at two in the morning and he offered to be my Southern gentleman protector for the evening. He said he wanted to save me from all the 'assholes' in his lazy drawl. The second that word came out of his mouth, I knew we were friends for life. I made him say it about ten times that night. "Aaaaaeys-hooowl."
4) Listening to Gordon Gee, the Mormon chancellor of Vanderbilt University, lecture about 5,000 God-fearing red-staters about the merits of the morning-after pill in a keynote address. If I had a dime for every 'ooh' and 'aah' and innapropriate I overheard during the speech, I would probably make enough to supply blow to the set of The O.C. for at least two seasons.

Have pics, will post soon.
I think this will be my last trip to the South.
Damn, it feels good to be home.

Dear Diary...

I've been drinking.
Heavily.

Happy Saturday, everyone!

Love,
Atticus