December 31, 2011

This is me, and these are the faces I’m going to make tonight as I sit and read quietly or something. 

December 9, 2011
This looks like my cat.
(The one on top, at least.)

This looks like my cat.

(The one on top, at least.)

(Source: getoutoftherecat)

November 9, 2011

Today, I look like such a bro that I can scarcely believe it.

I’ve got on a backward Red Sox fitted cap, a good four days’ worth of beard growth, and a somewhat oversized plaid flannel shirt that I’m wearing unbuttoned over a t-shirt.

I feel like if i went somewhere looking like this, and there were people my age around, they might talk to me on account of my apparent brostrosity.

It makes me want to drink twenty beers and smoke a thousand cigarettes.

That’s for a number of reasons, though.

November 5, 2011

Today, I discovered a Barnes & Noble gift card from last Christmas that was worth exactly enough to get me a peppermint mocha and a big paperback book, which is as thick as one and a half reams of copier paper and contains three P.G. Wodehouse novels, minus the extra weight and bulk of two front covers and two back ones. It’ll go nicely with the Douglas Adams omnibus I’ve had for some time now, which I suspect is published by the same people.

Books are nice.

November 2, 2011

I think that I’ve become the kind of person my childhood self would have thought was cool.

I’ve got on the same t-shirt I got circa fourth grade at the Museum of Fine Arts during their “Dangerous Curves: Art of the Guitar” exhibit. Uncharacteristic foresight on the part of a ten-year-old, buying a medium and subjecting it to the kind of abuse only a grade-school playground can offer. The result, after having had the shirt for the latter half of my life, is a pale crimson hue that somehow brings me back to the scrub pines and battered woodwork of the Cape. My sneakers are white canvas, which I was reluctant as a child to admit that I liked. I’ve since come around, though.

I still listen to rock music; namely Warren Zevon, as evidenced by a number of prior posts. The majority of music on my computer is rap and hip-hop, and that’s the case for a number of reasons. Rap is both poetic and character-driven, and a child with an affinity for wordplay and a half-finished comic book page close at hand whenever possible would certainly have appreciated those two aspects. A keen linguistic sense and appreciation for unique voices and dialects might have also allowed my past self to derive at least some degree of entertainment from rap music of any sort.

As for academic and occupational trajectory, I’d likely have been able to appreciate the somewhat unconventional way in which I’ve been spending the last couple years. As a marginally engaged student whose desk relentlessly consumed anything of scholastic importance but reliably stored ten or eleven books (one of which I’d keep in my lap and read during class with few attempts to conceal it, illicit as the pastime may have been) , I’d become fairly cognizant of the discrepancy between my ability and performance. It was addressed with varying degrees of concern over the years, and to my satisfaction I managed to confound as many remedial specialists (accredited and otherwise, with emphasis on “otherwise”) as set out to change my ways and “fix” me. There was never much doubt in my mind about the presence of some sort of asynchronous cognitive attributes whose traits would both assist and frustrate me regardless of my position in life. The way I see it, I would be just as foolish to compare my challenges to those of a “normal” student as I would my abilities in certain sectors. In a way, I’m back to elementary school. With high school’s social turmoil and one-size-fits-all curriculum behind me, I’m now free to pursue something that truly engages me, and I like to think that my childhood self would have approved.

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