Do you remember when I wrote a post about how I couldn't find any blogs to spend advertising dollars on because I was basically just cooler than everyone and no one could possibly be as much of an asshole as me so why should I ever bother spending money on Passionfruit Ads?
Here's a reason: because I still want new readers Here's another reason: because people can like cute sparkly PoSiTiVe ViBeS and still also like me when I'm being an asshole
PS being an asshole is not cool, but that doesn't mean you can't still love it. I love lots of uncool things; for example, Sheryl Crow.
Here's what came out of that post: me buying an ad anyway, on The Nectar Collective. Also me starting a series of posts for other assholes, because I am my target audience. Also I'd like to say hello to the readers that came here via The Nectar Collective, because there are surprisingly a shit ton of you guys.
Why the fuck did I feel it was necessary to drop money on an ad for a blog I've barely even been updating? Great question. I don't know. Probably because I'm an idiot with my money. Maybe I'll blog about that next, if I ever get around to it.
It's mostly time that's been keeping me from posting more. XYZ just moved to Santa Monica, which means now I can walk to work. It takes me about 20 minutes. The new office is beautiful and I feel so creatively motivated there that during my lunches I've been drawing instead of blogging like I used to do in the Beverly Hills office. I deleted 4 blog drafts when I logged in today. They were terrible and/or blank. I never write as well when life is just happily coasting along because I don't need to work anything out in my head. My best work is done when I have to analyze and observe.
What do I blog about when I have nothing to analyze? I mean, nothing, clearly. I've thought about sitting down and posting playlists at the very least, but the stuff I've been listening to lately has been so embarrassing that I don't know why I'd bother lol. So I just say nothing.
(Assholes listen to the Spice Girls and The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh on Spotify)
Pep and I have vowed to go somewhere each month. January's trip was to East Jesus/Salton Sea. In 2 weeks we're taking a 5 day vacation and spending Valentines Day road tripping through Nevada, Utah, and Arizona (!!!). March's trip will be to the Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve. Not sure about April yet, but May will be San Francisco for his brother's graduation, and June will be Buffalo so he can meet my family/Amanda and they can meet him.
(Assholes blog about travel plans)
I don't feel like I did very many things in 2014. Maybe it's because I spent 2013 going everywhere and when 2014 rolled around I couldn't mentally/financially afford to do it again. Maybe I did a lot but just wasn't focused on what was actually going on around me. I've been known to do that. Either way, I'm ready for another year of new places, especially if it means going with Pep. I painted him a big portrait of Tom Waits for his birthday over the weekend and he promptly hung it up across from his bed, so now he gets glared at every morning and night. We have a lot in common, but Tom Waits is probably one of the most important things. Tom Waits is just important altogether.
(Assholes blog about how in love they are and don't give A FUCK how many people are bothered by their constant happiness, because no one should ever have to apologize for being happy)
Very early Sunday morning, I scared myself awake from the worst dream I've ever had. And I mean the worst. I won't go into detail, but holy shit. Even thinking about it now, I instantly tear up. I've dreamt of loved ones dying before, and I've even dreamt of my own death. It's always kinda scary and sad, but this was so different. There was no death in this dream, only an exhausting, neverending attempt at preventing it or catching it before it was too late. It was just terror and madness and powerlessness and it felt like it went on for hours. I would pay anything to forget it. Has anyone else had one of these before?