Well....

It's my birthday still, just barely. Thanks to everyone who wished me a happy one. There should be some kind of goofiness going down in Austin this weekend to celebrate. I'm thinking Dog & Duck on Saturday night, so my brother, who will be in town, can also attend.

Since no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to string together two paragraphs that I like outside of work, I'll record here in bulleted form the state of my life. It's something I did last birthday, albeit in verbose narrative style. I'll probably enjoy coming back to this one year from today.

Let's tally:

— This is my weekly routine: Work, Flickr, Work, Flickr, Work, Midnight Basketball, Work, Flickr, Work, Austin, Alcohol, Breakfast Tacos at Mi Madre's, Basketball, Alcohol, Lazy Sunday, Back to Temple, Flickr, Repeat

— I like my job, but I don't love it.

The days when I end up in places I'd never expected or talking to people I'd never otherwise encounter, those are the good days. The days when I'm basically someone's PR-by-proxy bitch, those suck. Currently, I am good at descriptive features, even though every one feels like a failure when I turn it in because I know the incredible amount of material that gets left out. Readers don't seem to notice. I still haven't figured out this whole investigative journalism thing.

— I don't hate this town, but I want out.

It's a small town. There aren't a whole lot of people like me around to begin with, and everyone I meet, whether at work or at basketball, is in a much different situation in life than me. And there ain't shit to do here.

— Sadly, basketball is the love of my life.

It is my physical and emotional release. It is the only thing that gets my heart pumping or that can make me feel really low (when I play like a chump, as I did tonight). Twice a week, every Wednesday and Saturday, and I'm happy. It's hard to explain to people who haven't played sports all their life why little meaningless games are so important. The rock-solid Spurs and resurgent Breakfast Tacos also help while away those idle hours.

— Give the above, this will shock you: I haven't been on a date in about two and a half years.

Not since Julie during one of the shortest and most honest relationships in my experience — which is probably why it's still my best. As I was telling Amanda, it seems like these days, with the paranoias and hang-ups I've encoutered in people my age, if you want to date someone, whether seriously or not, there is but one prerequisite: you must casually claim "I'm not really looking for a relationship right now." That, unfortunately, is a dating scene that I am just not cut out for.

— But being on my own ain't so bad.

Except when I'm in the presence of a hot girl. Or a happy couple. Or some nights when the dull, distant, incessant horn of a passing train makes Temple feels empty and desolate. But otherwise, I make due (to be honest) with the porn I have.

— That said, I miss my friends.

Ah, Austin.

— There's no way I thought I'd end up here one year ago.

I will probably be able to quote this verbatim 365 days hence.

I need to get to bed, so I guess that's it. I will give one parting salute to Flickr, which has made the past few months unexpectedly productive as far as photography has gone. Unfortunately, it has also killed my blogging and freelance journalism. But I've gotten plenty of good clips from the Telegram, so I'm not too, too worried about that. (I would like to figure out what to do with this interview I conducted with former Congressman Chris Bell shortly before the election. Any ideas?)

You'll notice, though, that I've added a Flickr "button" on the side bar, which should feature my five latest photos up top, and if you scroll down, ten randomly selected pictures from my pool, which now numbers about 600 – 650 public photos. I imagine that if I were to ever get caught up with all my old stuff, including my old photo albums, I could easily hit 1,000 pictures before Spring Break.

Anyways, below is a collage of the folks who came out to my birthday dinner last year. Looking at them and how they've changed or departed really captures just how much happens in one year.