roman and i went to a BBQ out in oakland tonight. it was good times! we had bought a 25-pack of hot dogs, because adam, the bbq host and current member of DESA (and former member of Link 80) had requested that we did… so wat’d we do? we bought the largest pack of hot dogs that safeway had to offer. we’re nice guys, so we figured hey! let’s buy enough for everyone to enjoy!!!
funny how life works sometimes, because when we got to the Q, it turns out that three quarters of the gathering were vegetarians.
in a big scramble to get our money’s worth, i wolfed down probably 5 hot dogs before i just started feeling like a plastic sack full of puke that had been sitting on a warm radiator all afternoon.
adam is an INSANELY nice guy. his apartment that he shares with his fiance’ is SPRAWLING. i dared not ask how much rent was, but i am willing to bet that it is marginally cheaper for what it’s worth in Oakland than, say, my neck of the woods here in San Francisco. his friends are all super neat people, be it his fellow bandmates in desa, their girlfriends, or chums of the band. and to cherry the top of the pile, BILJANA was there by some random chance!!! i hadnt seen biljana in over a year probaby.
through it all, there was just something odd about being there, however. roman is happily taken, so he didnt really care all that much, but being the lone single dick there amidst all these SUPER happily taken couples was a bit overwhelming. it kinda made me miss being in a relationship, which is a rare occurence nowadays.
soon enough i felt like i was in a tv episode, and my inner monologue was machine-gunning, going off on some tear, griping about the ins and outs of relationship and social etiquette, not unlike Sex and the City or Californication.
roman and i particularly hit it off spectacularly with a visiting Canadian couple. the chick was smokin hawt, and the dude was world class and a total standup guy. it was really fun getting to know them and shoot the shit, but i found myself getting a bit mopey at moments internally, bitter that this awesome dude had an even awesome-r girlfriend. it pretty much got exacerbated when he PWN’D me at Wii Tennis. i screamed inside.
this guy gets the trophy, AND the girl. thanks for nothing, life.
i can’t say too much shit about him at all, seriously, cuz he’s a really rad guy. and yes, the ridiculousness of the Wii Tennis thing is intentional. but man, what i wouldnt give to go out on a decent date or somethin.
funny how life kind of becomes a movie/tvshow/comic book when your passions become increasingly involved in such medias.
**segues into comics class**after the party and driving back, roman wanted to drink some more (haha) so we ended up back at my apartment, where i just quietly sifted through my old comic books, letting nostalgia sink in for a few hours. it was a good trip back down memory lane to those lazy afternoons after dicking around at San Jose State, combing through every cubbie hole comic book store that Santa Clara county had to offer and looking for back-issues of Scud the Disposable Assassin.
but this time around, there was something different about all the comics that id grown to love. i appreciated (or in some case, suddenly criticized) them on a whole new level, and commented aloud to a very drunk Roman about how certain books have kind of lost their charm due to mediocre pacing, writing, or page composition, but how other select issues have simaeltaneously become even more gorgeous to me for the exact same reasons as the bad ones became worse.
at the end of the day, these classes i have taken at Academy are really enriching, but i definitely want to keep myself honest and modest. i cannot even imagine myself becoming a total snob, like just because i’ve got an official piece of paper that says im an artist doesnt mean i am on some higher eschilon of credibility than everybody else. it frustrates me sometimes to listen to everyday people talk to me about how they want to be artists but then get intimidated around me and feel like they have to gush about how im the true artist and that they could never do what i do.
honestly, that is probably the #1 thing you can say to me that will really get me irritated. first of all, i am NOT a “true” artist. in my eyes, EVERYONE is has the artist inside, it is up to them to express themselves. art to me is the ultimate form of SELF expression. it is not something made to be pleasing to anybody else. sure, i know how to draw a fucking naked woman in 5 minutes, and yes i know every complimentary color scheme there is, but FUCK!!!!
think about you, whoever you are out there (im talking to non-artschool folks), the ones who LOVE and APPRECIATE art. the ones who are not BOUND and CONFINED to the rules that have been bestowed upon people like me!! your minds are free!! you can literally draw squiggly lines all day on a paper bag and be happy with it!!! it may not mean shit to me, but the fact that you emoted via pen touching surface, that is ART.
so seriously, everyone stop flagellating themselves, go out there and just make some fucking art! think of it this way:
THE LAST FUCKING THING YOU SHOULD BE CONCERNED ABOUT IS WHAT ANYONE ELSE HAS TO SAY ABOUT IT.
February 13th, 2008 | bbq, beer, hot dogs, life, misc., music, relationships