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ManCrush (who is a straight attorney my age who works near my desk and likes to be awkward buddies with me and for awhile had a man-crush on me, hence the nickname) is at a Hootie and the Blowfish concert tonight. Do I also need to tell you that this is the guy who tried to tell me he "grew up in the Bronx" when really it was Manhattan? Or would you have guessed something like that already?
Today has been a busy, but good day. I crammed my morning routine into 90 minutes and managed to have enough time to cut my hair and shower before![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
foxycoxy came over to the house. We biked down to Humboldt Park and saw the press conference given by Elvira Arellano, who announced she's going to D.C. next month to pray and fast in front of Congress, so that if she's arrested, it can be done in front of the people who are supposed to have helped her by now. I'm paraphrasing a longer and more moving speech.
Afterwards we biked up to Kuma's and had a drink and a burger and discussed oppression, and pedagogy, and the pedagogy of the oppressed. I spent the afternoon running only TWO errands, instead of four, because the traffic was so horrible, plus the car was having problems starting each time I parked. I got home and my glasses broke, so now I have a piece of a paperclip holding them together. I barely made it to work on time -- I didn't even bother to put on a real shirt, so I'm here wearing dress pants, dress shoes....and a grey undershirt. It kinda looks okay. It kinda also looks like the gayest outfit I've ever worn here.
One of my errands was taking my first box of records to Dusty Groove. He only took about 1/3 of what I had, but I made $104 on them, which is perfect since I was hoping for $100. Even better since he didn't even take all of them, so I can now make the rounds to Reckless and others. When he handed them back, he even said, "you have some really good stuff in there. Even though we don't usually carry some of it, I would have bought it anyway except we're so backed up on vinyl." I have sold music and movies and books several times in the past, and I have never ever been complimented on the things they passed on. They always seem perfectly content to tell me "yeah, we don't need these." So it made me I think I can still make pretty good money on the remainder of the box. Especially since the money from today is already spoken for, as I just remembered that I need to send a check to my therapist.
It's also not that much cash when I think about the amount of money I initially paid out for all of my records in that 2-3 year period. I spent a LOT of money on music, in my quest to be a DJ. One year I collected receipts, for tax purposes, and I think it was about $2,000. One year. And that was a year that I DIDN'T buy any equipment. (Remember my Akai MPC3000??) And so when I got in the car outside of the record shop, I thought about $100 is only a fraction of what I initially spent, I started to cringe and feel regret and anxiety, except then I just stopped for a moment. I did become a DJ. I've done some strange gigs, some fun gigs, hell, I've even played music while MC Lyte was next to me in the 'booth', and it never turned out exactly how I thought, but I did do it sufficiently enough to say, ok, I've done this, and this is not how I want to both earn my income and spend my creativity. Next life choice. If I'm letting go of all the physical evidence of it, I can let go of the mental baggage too. And just enjoy the few hundred bucks I'm getting back now to pay off some bills and remove some of the stress of my current life, without resorting to digging up old stress.
Besides, I'm not getting rid of ALL my records. I still have my absolute favorites, those most meaningful and most beloved and worthy (even if not collectible). Including RZA's Bobby Digital which I rescued from the box, mere moments before loading it into the car.
Today has been a busy, but good day. I crammed my morning routine into 90 minutes and managed to have enough time to cut my hair and shower before
foxycoxy came over to the house. We biked down to Humboldt Park and saw the press conference given by Elvira Arellano, who announced she's going to D.C. next month to pray and fast in front of Congress, so that if she's arrested, it can be done in front of the people who are supposed to have helped her by now. I'm paraphrasing a longer and more moving speech.Afterwards we biked up to Kuma's and had a drink and a burger and discussed oppression, and pedagogy, and the pedagogy of the oppressed. I spent the afternoon running only TWO errands, instead of four, because the traffic was so horrible, plus the car was having problems starting each time I parked. I got home and my glasses broke, so now I have a piece of a paperclip holding them together. I barely made it to work on time -- I didn't even bother to put on a real shirt, so I'm here wearing dress pants, dress shoes....and a grey undershirt. It kinda looks okay. It kinda also looks like the gayest outfit I've ever worn here.
One of my errands was taking my first box of records to Dusty Groove. He only took about 1/3 of what I had, but I made $104 on them, which is perfect since I was hoping for $100. Even better since he didn't even take all of them, so I can now make the rounds to Reckless and others. When he handed them back, he even said, "you have some really good stuff in there. Even though we don't usually carry some of it, I would have bought it anyway except we're so backed up on vinyl." I have sold music and movies and books several times in the past, and I have never ever been complimented on the things they passed on. They always seem perfectly content to tell me "yeah, we don't need these." So it made me I think I can still make pretty good money on the remainder of the box. Especially since the money from today is already spoken for, as I just remembered that I need to send a check to my therapist.
It's also not that much cash when I think about the amount of money I initially paid out for all of my records in that 2-3 year period. I spent a LOT of money on music, in my quest to be a DJ. One year I collected receipts, for tax purposes, and I think it was about $2,000. One year. And that was a year that I DIDN'T buy any equipment. (Remember my Akai MPC3000??) And so when I got in the car outside of the record shop, I thought about $100 is only a fraction of what I initially spent, I started to cringe and feel regret and anxiety, except then I just stopped for a moment. I did become a DJ. I've done some strange gigs, some fun gigs, hell, I've even played music while MC Lyte was next to me in the 'booth', and it never turned out exactly how I thought, but I did do it sufficiently enough to say, ok, I've done this, and this is not how I want to both earn my income and spend my creativity. Next life choice. If I'm letting go of all the physical evidence of it, I can let go of the mental baggage too. And just enjoy the few hundred bucks I'm getting back now to pay off some bills and remove some of the stress of my current life, without resorting to digging up old stress.
Besides, I'm not getting rid of ALL my records. I still have my absolute favorites, those most meaningful and most beloved and worthy (even if not collectible). Including RZA's Bobby Digital which I rescued from the box, mere moments before loading it into the car.
