I must admit I'm losing interest in this weblog. I've been reading too much Baldwin; his essays are so overloaded with heavy subjects and grand disquisitions that it makes me uninspired to come here and write about the roach that crawled in my car while I was driving tonight, or anything of that sort.

I've left out a lot of the larger issues I wanted to address in these posts over the summer, the three main ones being: (1) Describe what it was like in downtown S.A. when the Spurs won the championship and the strange relation between sports and race, (2) my reaction, or lack thereof, to my first and so far only one-night stand, more specifically, not so much the night itself but some generalized realizations I came to, or thought I'd come to, only now to realize that I don't know what to make of it all, if anything, and (3) my weird introduction into the working world and to "real" adults through my office job, which ends in a few months.

I have never been able to bring myself to really sit down and hash all this out, and all of this has been weighing on my mind a lot recently. I finally realized this was hardly the place for it; I'm not quite sure why I ever thought it was. It just takes too much time to be honest, accurate, and lucid with these things. For those of you who saw that most recent drunk post, you see what happens when my confusions and frustrations surface in hyperbolic fashion thanks to alcohol. I keep feeling like I bounce between two extreme voices, one talking only in the most impersonal, abstract terms about current events, the other a sloppy catharsis of my life's confusing inanities, the trivial things every person goes through in daily life, but which I can't seem to grasp or master or even influence.

At least I've got my photography. And my resume, which twinkles a little more after this summer.

Congrats to all my friends who've gotten new jobs, grants, opportunities, etc. recently. I hope the trend spreads to the rest of you less fortunates.

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