I was on an upswing, I swear. I don’t really know when things went wrong because whenever I look back on my life things always seem to have waxed and waned, swerved and coasted, dipped and dived—it’s never been an even flow.
Usually my writings do not include me—chalk that up to journalism training, or my obsessive need to categorize and organize and separate and stack my thoughts. Either way, this section will be where I can vomit my gnarled, and sweetly personalized, ramblings.
Was that CONCRETE enough? Maybe it was a little too ABSTRACT. Can you critique my off-white eye crust brought on by lucid dreams in Technicolor? “What in the hell am I trying to say?” “Nothing, you’re dead.” *sad face*
OK. Seriously, though. I’m trying to make sense of these projects while listening to some records I scored from the Main Street Collectors Mall & Soda Fountain in Milwaukie, Oreogn.
God, I love that place. Faded Maxfield Parrish prints hang on walls near the ceiling, bearing price tags that are too high for any potential buyers. Corny toys from every era litter nearly a third of the store, while the rest is a hodgepodge of antique furniture and clothing leftover from some crone (probably), stupid dishes, ugly knickknacks, costume jewelry, dusty records, and too many other pieces of junk that I love so much, but not enough to remember them.
Now that I’ve finally journeyed past the mountain-top hurdle of writing my first entry on my personal website, it’s time for me to get cracking on posting something on my baby, Random Stuff on the Street.