We've Got Nothing Better To Do...

Shooting the picture myself from the other side does little to disguise the fact that I spend far too much time sitting in this same chair, in front of the same notebook, with the same things on TV night after night. However, like drinking, spelunking and philosophical conversations, it's really only troublesome from a behavioral psychology perspective if one does it alone.

Off-Center

I feel a bit ridiculous posting this late, but I couldn't get to sleep feeling like I'd already given up. The picture kind of mirrors the way I feel about this project at the moment... no pun intended, of course. So far I'm not thrilled with the results. It's self-reflective, sure, but it's off-center, out of focus and ultimately the only thing that matters seems to be the camera. Hell, I can't even look myself in the eye. I feel as if I'm standing next to the shower curain of pointlessness.

Er, sorry. Metaphors seem stretchier at this time of night. I didn't mean to break it, really. It was an accident. Jeez. Forget it, I'm going to bed.

Drunken Smile

Made a last-minute decision to see The Monads, Bob Log III and Scott H. Biram at Off Broadway last night, or allowed it to be made for me. Topher was going anyway, and I didn't really have anything better to do, but balanced against Sunday evening laziness it was still a close decision. Eventually I decided that I needed to use a different background occasionally for my daily picture than the chair in the corner, which tipped the scales in favor of going along; it seemed easier than carrying all my crap into the basement.
The Monads were totally not the band I was expecting, but they were pretty cool nevertheless. They're certainly the best local bluegrass punk outfit I've seen. The really impressive act was Bob Log III, a one-man band, death cyclist and born showman. I like to think that under that helmet he looks like David Carradine from a bad '70's movie, but perhaps he just wears it because it drives the ladies wild. Getting two women to sit on his knees while playing the kick drum is not just an impressive feat of seduction but also of rhythm, but the real coup is live Boob Scotch (NSFW video). By the time Scott H. Biram came on, I was going to need something with a stronger beat than his peculiar brand of psychotic hellbilly gospel to keep me moving, so I spent the bulk of the show outside with a PBR and a cigarette.

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Somebody used to tell me all the time, "You have a cute smile when you're drunk." I'm still not sure I see what she meant, unless by cute you mean 'slightly goofy.' The vague look of dementia around the eyes may be due to the shot of absinthe I had, or it may just be the onset of a serious psychiatric problem. I'm also not sure if I'd prefer to believe that my face is that shiny due to the little bit of drinking I did or the little bit of dancing I did. Maybe its just bad lighting, or bad skin care.

Zero Day

Before I looked old and scraggly. After shaving, just old. Of course, waiting to take the picture until moments before bed doesn't help, and doesn't bode well for the success of this project. Gotta be more on top of things.

Still, the goal I set for myself was to get a picture before crashing for the night, and to get it posted by the next night, and I've accomplished that much at least. It's a bit early in the game to start kicking myself over the small failures and near misses. After all, I have to have something to talk about next week.

So anyway, today is Zero Day. This is the baseline upon which I must improve what I can and make peace with what I cannot. Staring at these daily photos will force me to either improve my self-image or work to improve myself. At least, that's my theory. We'll see how well it proves out in practice.

Every Story Must Have A Beginning

Since I first started trying to maintain a blog, way back when I had free time, I've been planning on doing the picture-a-day experiment on myself. I've had a fair number of justifications for this plan, but they really all boil down to the One True Reason for all my internet adventures: I want to learn how to better fake narcissism.

I'm sure that as time goes by, you'll all hear plenty more of my philosophical musings on why I'm torturing myself, not to mention my Loyal Readers, in this most nefarious way. For now, however, I just wanted to warn anyone who happens to still be following my lately-derelict personal blog that they should set their browsers to refuse images from this URL for the foreseeable future.

I'm calling this shot Day -1. It was taken 2008.08.08 by Topher, and showcases what happens when I spend about a month ignoring the basic tenets of personal grooming. Part of the reason I'm starting this project now is so I can have this picture right at the beginning of the set; hopefully I can use it as a reference to remember why I need to take better care of myself.