Books and Fears

So, I'm at work. I've been working non stop since Monday and I'll have no day off until this upcoming Tuesday. I'm really glad to be making some cash to go towards schooling and lifing and whatnot, but I am extremely tired. I really want to fix my tattoo but Mathew needs new shoes and no one else can get them for him. Dad doesn't make much money and Mathew doesn't really talk to mom so I told him it would be a bit asshole-ish to ask her for anything.

I already scheduled my classes for the summer and it added up to 13 credit hours. Thats too many. Thankfully half of them are art classes. However, these art classes are going to be 4 hours 4 days a week for 12 weeks. I guess its a good thing because it'll prepare me for whats to come. I'm kind of rusty and I usually only "art out" excessively about every few months. I basically get restless and paint 2 or 3 things, then stop for a good amount of time. I'm kind of glad I'm forcing myself into this. I'm so excited and a little bit wary.

I applied for housing at ASU about a week ago, shit is starting to look real. I feel kind of alone on my excitement because people usually do this their senior year of high school or just not at all. I'm really stoked for when Rachel gets her acceptance and then applies for housing as well. She'll be staying in freshman dorms but it'll still be really fun. Also, Colin got the CA position, so there is another buddy of mine I will have with in walking distance. Next year is going to be amazing. I'm so excited to meet new people and launch into this passion I've had for so many years. It kind of sucks, telling people youre an art major, I feel like I have to state a bunch of disclaimers because I know they don't consider "art" an actual major. I don't really care though because nothing could bring me down on this.

So, I went to the Tempe library and got a library card. I tried to check out this one book Colin wanted me to read, but it was already checked out. So, I walked around and checked out four other books. I've always wanted to read Lolita but have never gotten around to it, so alas, that was apart of the selection. I also found I had a lot of time still left on my hands until work, and an excessive amount of money in my bank account, so I ended up just buying that Miranda July book. I still don't know how I feel about it. Its not really what I expected from the excerpt I read, but I'm giving it a chance. It seems a bit irrationally crude in some places and it pisses me off the way Palahnuik pisses me off. But, I'm starting to think my adversion to this sort of things is just a defense mechanism. Shit is life, I need to see the brightness in it all rather than disillusioning myself. I guess thats what a part of growing up is. Especially when you've been exposed to too much disgusting shit at such an early age. Its like..overcoming fears or whatever. I keep trying to look up shit to try and validate problems with life and nothing to seems to satisfy me. I guess its like trying to understand "the meaning of life" or " how did the world come to be." Its what it is, if you keep trying to understand it, you'll fucking go insane. So I guess I kind of admire these people in a standoffish sort of way. They see whats there, and they talk about it with out limits, then they dissect it and see how it effects rather than how it came to be. I don't know. I could be full of shit.

I just keep talking too much.