Like most Sundays, I woke up in a bad mood this morning. There’s just something about the whole routine of Sundays that rubs me the wrong way. And it’s days like today that convince me almost completely that I am *not* going to Japan first, and will end up in NYC as soon as I can afford to go. Why? Because days like today I absolutely cannot stand the thought of being here any longer than is abosolutely necessary. Days like today I hate this house, I hate this state, I hate this town, I hate everything about being stuck here without any options available to me whatsoever. Maybe later today when the whole of America is devoting itself stupidly to that collective whoring out of the American nation called the Superbowl I’ll go out shooting somewhere. Not really sure where, though. That’s another thing – I don’t think I’ve ever lived in a place that so completely underwhelms me in terms of photographic possibilities. I’m sure it’s just my attitude, but I look around, trying desperately to get excited about shooting here, and I simply cannot find more than a tiny bit of visual inspiration in the world around me.
Meanwhile, our connection here still blows wholly and completely. I’m writing this entry in a text editor to be uploaded later because not only is the amount of time I can be online currently limited, but even getting connected in the first place is apparently asking too much of AT&T. The system is constructed in such a way that it is totally biased against Macs. On a PC, dialing up and connecting isn’t a problem. On my Mac (and don’t blame this on the computer – it’s the fucking dialup service), though, it takes a bare minimum of five failed attempts at connecting before the connection decides to come out and play nice (sort of). On the worst occasions, it has taken me upwards of TWO HOURS to get connected. I’m sure many people would just say “to hell with it” long before that, but if you know anything about me at all, you should know that when something like this comes up, I don’t let it drop.
I’ll say it again – there’s a reason my parents have periodically referred to me as Bulldog.
Yes, I’m just in a bad mood. But so fucking what? I personally think it a bit much of the world to expect constant pleasant moods from me. I’m not always happy, and I refuse to cover that up, pretending that all is hunky-fucking-dory when it very well isn’t. The world needs to reconcile itself with the fact that humanity is collectively pissed off.
