26 and pissed.

Hello blog:
I'm 26 [read: old, washed up, wanna-be man], and this isn't Julie typing.

How did you all let me get this old?
I'm still smoking, and drinking, and working a shit job.
I'm close to having my degree, but close isn't good enough.

But enough negativity...
I just like to bitch sometimes.

So birf-day happened on the 29th of April. Came and went with no real black eyes or feathers in my cap.

I was on a week [read: 9 days] vacation. Just went back to work last Monday.
Over my little stay-home-from-work stint we made lots of fires in my new fire pit. Cooked food in/on my new BBQ grill. Played a whole lot of NBA Jam in the shed. Good times.

Friends and family thought it would be nice to have a party for my b-day, and I agreed after some thought. So Julie and I spent a lot of time making our yard and house look nice, invited a bunch of folk over, and the rest was history.



Blurry L to R : Fred, Conner, Tracey, Shannon, Carl, Kalli, Sophia



Line of chairs.



Fred Man-ing the grill.




Julie + Me.




Another baby Sophia and her mommy Stash.





It was my goal to record some new 'Matilda' [read: solo music project] stuff but it just wasn't in the cards. I had to download a new recording program, and it wasn't jiving with my computer.
So then I wen to Radio Shack and spent 45 dollars on different cables and cords and connectors to try and rig it all up, and instead of working I just spent money on shit I didn't really need.
But it wasn't all bad.
In preparation of recording I got a bunch of new musical ideas bouncing around in my head.
Put those down on cassette tape and stored some in my loop pedal for a later date.


To wrap up my vacation, me and Julie and Danny played Clue a bunch of times. I lost every time, and Julie almost won every time.

Set-up action!



By the way:
She's on my shit list for being so damn good at Clue.

That is all.