Obligatory Holiday Well-Wishing

Happy Yule.


Eat Drink And Be Merry, but try not to puke on the carpet (or pee on it, like my Grandpa's dog).

Altar

Sunn 0))) rules.

HEED ME, BITKh.

To move forward, you hafta to let the past lie. You gotta set it down. Put it in a box, put it in a closet, and keep walking.

Friggin' Snow.

Seattle to Bellingham is about a 90 mile drive. It took us EIGHT HOURS.


...


But hey, at least the snow's pretty.




And here's the brave little truck which, despite the battery dying during the four hour standstill between exits 240 - 242, got us through the hell-drive safe.

AND THE SENATE.

To Mr. Santorum, especially, a heartfelt goodbye.

In the house.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaa.

NO MORE FOOD.

On the Eve.

Cannibal Ox.

Mmmmmmmmmmm, The Cold Vein.

Man, i'm not very consistent with this thing.

This is slowly but steadily turning into a photoblog. At least, when I remember to update the
damn thing it is.

Today I learned that blogger can thumbnail images for you, and all of my previous photoposts became stupid. How frustrating.

Anyhoo, pictures, mostly from Discovery Park:

Skyline

Messed around with 8 and 15 second exposures. Thus, blur.

Discovery Park, 6/3/06

I have an archaeology final in 45 minutes. Until then, here are some pictures.

The End is Nigh

Went back to fisherman's terminal. Took better pictures. Remembered to resize them this time.

Docks.

Went to Fisherman's Terminal.



Met a Kitty.



Looked at Boats.

Bison are the best ruminants.

Damage, Inc.

Old Metallica is like a balm for the soul.

"Orion" is my nonverbal mantra.

kore wa, muzukashii desu.

For as long as I can remember, people have told me how great college was. Someone would be over for a family dinner, and eventually the subject would arise, and all of the adults at the table would get the same misty-eyed look and begin to mumble vague stories and chuckle. Over time, the university developed into a semi-mythical place in my mind, a golden Elysium of opportunity and joy, where every wild desire could be met and tamed. And so, in that context, I keep wondering, what the fuck were they talking about?

Had their lives reached such a pinnacle of mundanity that, in retrospect, these years seemed like fun? Was it just the fog of nostalgia, ascribing to these times a sense of wild purpose which they did not, indeed, possess.

Or am I some kind of aberration? Should I be having the time of my life right now? Is it by my own obstinacy or some other flaw of character that I'm not enjoying myself? I've been here for a year and 2/3rds now, and I've met maybe three people I've connected with. I hold a strange, leering contempt for the vast majority of my peers. The next time I hear some Abercrombie-vested girl at the gym talking about how she "tried a keg stand and vomited but it was still soooo fun and oh shit, are you going to Zack's on Wednesday?" I'm going to jump off of a fucking balcony.

But that's really not the whole of it. More than anything it's this feeling of a profound lack of purpose that I can’t' shake. I feel like I’m just floating here in the Bellingham miasma, serving some kind of allotted purgatory before I can go out and actually be in the world.

Is it really just me? Empirically, the answer seems to be no. Most of my friends who I still see in Seattle are just as miserable as I am. Ironically, all they seem to want to do is get out of Seattle, and all I want to do is get back.

Dete Kudasai!

In retrospect, that was somewhat of an odd place from which to take an eight month hiatus. Hmm.


Since then, not a whole lot to report, really. I've found myself at home a lot lately. Maybe it's a sign; Bellingham is trying to tell me I don't belong there. Or not.

Here are some pictures I took: