12:59 p.m. - 2005-09-14
Last night I went to kinkos to make copies of my CD covers and tracklists for the dual disc debacle. Everything's looking good, and I would have finished and sent them all had I not run out of glue stick AND rubber cement. I go through a lot of adhesives, let me tell you. Anyway. I noticed something about the kinko's out here: they close at 9. Can you believe that junk? I'm totally rethinking my decision to live in the suburbs now, because who wants to live somewhere where the kinkos actually CLOSES?? Every once in a while a girl needs to relive the art school days and go to the copy shop in the middle of the night.
My best friend and I had a good talk when I was back in the 515 area code this weekend. We have pretty much been having this same conversation since we graduated from college, but it morphs a little bit every year as we get older and more adult-y. The whole "work" thing just doesn't do it for us. Especially me. And so, both of us (independent of each other) always have a sort of fantasy lifestyle on backup to daydream about when the going gets tough. For her, it's living out on a big farm somewhere, growing berries and making jam to sell at farmers markets. For me, it's finding a job as an artists assistant to woman painter, spending my days washing brushes, getting coffee, mixing paint, cleaning up a studio. Ah. . . . can't you imagine those two lives? But then we both came to the conclusion that selling jam and cleaning brushes aren't really the kind of careers that help you afford fabulous outfits. So, in the end, not feasible in reality. But always nice to think about.
Normally when I'm not cheerful I can think about something good coming up and feel better. Sufjan Stevens is this Friday night, and going to Iowa City on Saturday, so that's great. . . but for some reason I'm still kind of blah. I think I need to start doing yoga again or something. I'm just feeling. . . directionless.
What makes you more cheerful?