First of all, where have I been? I’ve been over here at the Gay Science blog. Gay Science is my band, in which I do many things, including sing, play trombone, rap, and sing in Portuguese, and my friend Anthony also does many things, including sing, make music with math + sequencers, rap, and sing in Portuguese while also understanding what he’s singing in Portuguese because he’s going to be a doctor of that shit someday. We decided to up the regularity of our posts like crazy in a bid to get an actual blog readership. No word yet on how well that’s working out. Anyway, most of my blogging energy has gone to that project, and big fucking thanks modern world for making me write that sentence. Gross.
In other news, I’m still into nails. I started with pearlescent yellow but immediately moved into the hard shit: safety orange. Safety orange got me a lot of notice and compliments, but I foolishly went for pinkish red as the follow-up, and then I got sick of going to Funny Nails in the basement of the Dobie Mall (those of you who know Austin know the prolific sadness of the Dobie Mall, and can accurately imagine the extra sadness of its basement, and for those of you who don’t know Austin, it’s a mall below a teal highrise dormitory with a food court, an Army recruitment center, a tanning parlor called “Tan It All,” and Funny Nails). Sure, it only costs ten dollars to get your nails done at Funny Nails. But maybe it should cost more than that, you know? Also, the last time I went, the dude chastised me for smoking so much. But maybe he was right, because my right index finger is a mess o’ tobacco stain. Anyway. I invested in a cuticle shaper and a cuticle nipper and some topcoat so I can do my nails at home now. Last week I painted them coral to match my one pair of high heels (P.S. I’m trying to learn how to walk in high heels based on an abortive attempt to audition for America’s Next Top Model, more on that some other time) which are coral. This week they’re bright yellow, which is nice except I suspect it will succumb quickly to the inevitable nicotine staining. I’ll probably try to do something special for graduation next week, like etch James Michener’s likeness into them.
Speaking of which, graduation is next week. I am basically right now a MASTER OF FINE ARTS. Let that sink in for a minute. It still hasn’t hit me, and the future is scary and uncertain. I’m waiting to hear back from residencies I’ve applied for. They say “no news is good news,” but in my case I think that probably means it’s only good news for the makers of Bulleit Bourbon. Until I know what happens to me next year, please don’t ask me what I have planned for next year. I have no plans for next year. Except punching you in the throat if you keep asking me about my plans, which do not as of yet exist.
Except for WORKING IT, which I plan to do every day.
The motto for 2009: GRIND TO SHINE.
