I had been thinking about creating a new layout for this blog for a while. Part of me considered using my ninja web skills, which have been rusting in an outdoor tub somewhere, to come up with a completely new design. Of course CSS kicks my ass every day and then makes me eat my own vomit. So I decided to go the easy route and use a free template and then all I did was tweek the code a bit. That is what this is. And I kind of love it. If you know me well enough, you know my preferred design aesthetic is grunge. The kind that looks like I made it with my own two hands. But in reality I never got my hands dirty and the only tool I touched was a computer mouse. Maybe the keyboard. MAYBE. Actually, no. Throw in the keyboard. I'm more fond of it than the mouse.
Anyway, if you did not know that, then you are in luck. Because I now work a lot. A LOT. Yay for my bank account and yay for my stomach that can now eat organic food. (Which I had last night at ZPizza...the jury's still out on that one.)
So along with this newly minted blog template will be some commentary on some projects I've worked on. Remember that music video with Meredith in it? Well I'm gonna tell you all about it in my next post! So if you're like "How did he...?" You'll know. And I'll be good and label everything. Cos yeah, I do quite a lot of different types of work so if you're only interested in graphic design, you'll get that, only video - hey that's there too. I know January is over now but my own "New Year's Resolution" has really been to work more. Yes. It was.
when can i live like it's 1934?
it's christmas day and i've eaten nothing but cream cheese spreads and ritz crackers and i'm blogging. obviously it's been a rather uneventful holiday. and instead of spreading christmas cheer throughout, i am busy reading more sad sad news on the recession and politics. why can't i ever get enough?! the election is over! why must politics consume my life?
because i am a mexikennedy. there is your answer. i am a humble public servant who spends days and nights worrying about the poor. it's true. i make myself sick with worry.
there are times when i refuse to worry about the unfortunate, though. when i eat and when i shop. all other times i am free to debate with myself the positives and infrequent downsides to socialist policies and the crazy crazy crazies of conservative limited government trickle down economic hoohas.
i have to come out and admit that this does not mean i'm gonna go under bridges and pass out sandwiches and give hugs to hobos. no. not at all. i said i worry. and worrying takes a lot of energy out of me. and don't dare you invade my space and my me time during the eating or shopping. what better way to make me feel bad about myself and my "luck" and lose the sympathy i hold.
i prefer to help through my talents. like blogging and writing and maybe graphic design...oh and work. i am a humble public servant.
but for the life of me, i cannot seem to grasp this whole recession other than the general depressing feeling. like will there be a tomorrow? what in my house can i barter? should i buy land in china now? there's no urgency to scrape and save. i've been spending money like it's going out of style (and really it is. dollars are the new pennies. drop 'em fast kids.) and now i'm all excited about the dropping real estate prices because it means that yes, maybe i can afford a house within the next year. and screw whoever says you need to have actual savings and a deposit to do that.
with that in mind, i am still filled with worry for those who do not share my talents and luck. what will people with no skills and education do? should they buy land in china now? and when i encounter some of these people i can't help but feel awful for the fact that i want to cover up and disappear. true story - on the way to the mexikennedy estate i stopped at a truck stop in new braunfels for my 3rd bathroom break and it was filled with all the characters of my worrisome dreams: the working class, the uninsured, and the immigrants. yes, it just so happened that a charter bus from mexico was making a lunch stop. at a truck stop? yeah...see?! this is why i worry! what will we do when the mcdonald's dollar menu becomes too costly?!
and as i stood in line trying to pay for my gallon of mountain dew and wheat thins, i was surrounded by poor white people with bad teeth and enormous truckers in flannel. and some of them were there doing their christmas shopping. at a truck stop? yeah...see?! my stomach is in knots by this point! and here i am in a peacoat, banana republic jeans, a gap scarf and polo and puma shoes. the people in front of me made returns to pay for a tray of chocolates, two toy cars, and gas. they made returns. at a truck stop. it didn't help that making a return takes forever and is quite a complicated process at a truck stop and every time the other register would open, one of my favorite people would cut around me. it was the longest i've ever stood in line feeling like a spoiled rich kid.
maybe no one paid attention to me or thought badly of me, but i could feel their disdain. they knew i wanted a bottle of purell to douse my body in but did they know i'm sick with worry? do they know i carry the weight of the world between my shoulders? do they know how much i envy the blue collar characters on tv and in movies? if only i were content with having little and living a simple life. i won't hold my breath. instead, i'll continue my worrying and look into this 7 acre spread outside of Lanzhou.
because i am a mexikennedy. there is your answer. i am a humble public servant who spends days and nights worrying about the poor. it's true. i make myself sick with worry.
there are times when i refuse to worry about the unfortunate, though. when i eat and when i shop. all other times i am free to debate with myself the positives and infrequent downsides to socialist policies and the crazy crazy crazies of conservative limited government trickle down economic hoohas.
i have to come out and admit that this does not mean i'm gonna go under bridges and pass out sandwiches and give hugs to hobos. no. not at all. i said i worry. and worrying takes a lot of energy out of me. and don't dare you invade my space and my me time during the eating or shopping. what better way to make me feel bad about myself and my "luck" and lose the sympathy i hold.
i prefer to help through my talents. like blogging and writing and maybe graphic design...oh and work. i am a humble public servant.
but for the life of me, i cannot seem to grasp this whole recession other than the general depressing feeling. like will there be a tomorrow? what in my house can i barter? should i buy land in china now? there's no urgency to scrape and save. i've been spending money like it's going out of style (and really it is. dollars are the new pennies. drop 'em fast kids.) and now i'm all excited about the dropping real estate prices because it means that yes, maybe i can afford a house within the next year. and screw whoever says you need to have actual savings and a deposit to do that.
with that in mind, i am still filled with worry for those who do not share my talents and luck. what will people with no skills and education do? should they buy land in china now? and when i encounter some of these people i can't help but feel awful for the fact that i want to cover up and disappear. true story - on the way to the mexikennedy estate i stopped at a truck stop in new braunfels for my 3rd bathroom break and it was filled with all the characters of my worrisome dreams: the working class, the uninsured, and the immigrants. yes, it just so happened that a charter bus from mexico was making a lunch stop. at a truck stop? yeah...see?! this is why i worry! what will we do when the mcdonald's dollar menu becomes too costly?!
and as i stood in line trying to pay for my gallon of mountain dew and wheat thins, i was surrounded by poor white people with bad teeth and enormous truckers in flannel. and some of them were there doing their christmas shopping. at a truck stop? yeah...see?! my stomach is in knots by this point! and here i am in a peacoat, banana republic jeans, a gap scarf and polo and puma shoes. the people in front of me made returns to pay for a tray of chocolates, two toy cars, and gas. they made returns. at a truck stop. it didn't help that making a return takes forever and is quite a complicated process at a truck stop and every time the other register would open, one of my favorite people would cut around me. it was the longest i've ever stood in line feeling like a spoiled rich kid.
maybe no one paid attention to me or thought badly of me, but i could feel their disdain. they knew i wanted a bottle of purell to douse my body in but did they know i'm sick with worry? do they know i carry the weight of the world between my shoulders? do they know how much i envy the blue collar characters on tv and in movies? if only i were content with having little and living a simple life. i won't hold my breath. instead, i'll continue my worrying and look into this 7 acre spread outside of Lanzhou.
attack of the shooting star
here is the video i made with meredith. the song is called "attack of the shooting star" and it is on marc schulz's album "look both ways." enjoy.
24
as is my style, my 24th birthday had to come in phases that took an entire week. well sort of. on wednesday (my actual birthday) we went to the lovely restaurant, uncorked. i had so much fun and i'm so happy my friends showed up and had some eats and drinks with me. if you're extremely interested, photos will be on facebook soon.
on friday, aka halloween, i dressed up as speed racer and with jake met up with austin and billy & gretchen. they deserve a single name like brangelina. maybe betch? grilly? meh, betch.
anyway, when the night started, jake and i got an awesome parking spot for free somewhere on 13th street.
but travis that means you had to walk all the way to 6th? trust me, it was awesome and definitely beat sitting in traffic trying to get into a parking garage. downtown was way crowded and people didn't wear very many impressive costumes. in fact, that's the void i filled. in my speed racer costume i became a local god. a celebrity if you will. drunk fratties and nerd boys alike yelled "speed racer!" as i walked by. i could have dealt without the fratties knocking on my helmet since it was not a real helmet and so they were pretty much banging on my skull. but that is the price you pay for fame. considering there was a horrendous speed racer movie out this year, i figured more people would have been wearing the costume, but no. i was the lone speed racer.
as the night wore on and the exclamations of "oh my god! it's speed racer!" became the standard, i found myself getting drunk with power and fame. i started out awkwardly reacting to my fame with "....yay!" or "...woooooo!!!!" when approached by fans. i soon began shaking hands, waving, and patting people on the back when they came up to me. i even became barack obama a few times saying, "we did this together!" "no one can take this away from us!" "this is about you!" etc.
we had initially planned on going to the och since i had received an email invite advertising free admission to their costume dance party. when we showed up, the crabby old drag queen at the door informed me it was a $10 cover for those 21 and up. so i said, "fine, we'll go next door." and she said "just so you know, that's the vip line next door." it looked like a long line but obviously it was the place to be and plus, had she not gotten the memo about who i was? how dare she insult me that way! and to top it off, she didn't even offer to let us pay the vip rate of $5 since no one else was going into her club of lame.
as we made our way over to rain, we realized the line went around the block. defeated, we made our way back to normal 6th and headed to the soho lounge. they had a long line too. this time i was not going to be handled like a second rate trick or treater so we hurried to the front of the line.
soho was so packed that the bouncer could only let in a person for every person who exited. after a few minutes, he let betch and austin in leaving jake and i outside. he turned to me and said, "these other two guys have been waiting here longer. i'm just gonna let them in next and then you."
to which i replied, "but i'm speed racer."
he looked me over and said, "yeah...i'm gonna let in these other two guys and then you."
at least i was getting somewhere.
on friday, aka halloween, i dressed up as speed racer and with jake met up with austin and billy & gretchen. they deserve a single name like brangelina. maybe betch? grilly? meh, betch.
anyway, when the night started, jake and i got an awesome parking spot for free somewhere on 13th street.but travis that means you had to walk all the way to 6th? trust me, it was awesome and definitely beat sitting in traffic trying to get into a parking garage. downtown was way crowded and people didn't wear very many impressive costumes. in fact, that's the void i filled. in my speed racer costume i became a local god. a celebrity if you will. drunk fratties and nerd boys alike yelled "speed racer!" as i walked by. i could have dealt without the fratties knocking on my helmet since it was not a real helmet and so they were pretty much banging on my skull. but that is the price you pay for fame. considering there was a horrendous speed racer movie out this year, i figured more people would have been wearing the costume, but no. i was the lone speed racer.
as the night wore on and the exclamations of "oh my god! it's speed racer!" became the standard, i found myself getting drunk with power and fame. i started out awkwardly reacting to my fame with "....yay!" or "...woooooo!!!!" when approached by fans. i soon began shaking hands, waving, and patting people on the back when they came up to me. i even became barack obama a few times saying, "we did this together!" "no one can take this away from us!" "this is about you!" etc.
we had initially planned on going to the och since i had received an email invite advertising free admission to their costume dance party. when we showed up, the crabby old drag queen at the door informed me it was a $10 cover for those 21 and up. so i said, "fine, we'll go next door." and she said "just so you know, that's the vip line next door." it looked like a long line but obviously it was the place to be and plus, had she not gotten the memo about who i was? how dare she insult me that way! and to top it off, she didn't even offer to let us pay the vip rate of $5 since no one else was going into her club of lame.
as we made our way over to rain, we realized the line went around the block. defeated, we made our way back to normal 6th and headed to the soho lounge. they had a long line too. this time i was not going to be handled like a second rate trick or treater so we hurried to the front of the line.
soho was so packed that the bouncer could only let in a person for every person who exited. after a few minutes, he let betch and austin in leaving jake and i outside. he turned to me and said, "these other two guys have been waiting here longer. i'm just gonna let them in next and then you."
to which i replied, "but i'm speed racer."
he looked me over and said, "yeah...i'm gonna let in these other two guys and then you."
at least i was getting somewhere.
electric feel
according to GQ's guide to the 21st century gentleman, not everything is blogable. and they're right. in fact, my life as of late has been pretty low key and uneventful. well some things i can't blog about happened. but if you're my friend and reading this, chances are i'll either tell you or have told you about these things.
in other news, i have a to do list.
a. re-learn the guitar
b. re-write Aside
c. begin writing Near with ryan
d. write a short
that's it. i've decided to start vlogging. so my next installment may be live! somewhat...
in other news, i have a to do list.
a. re-learn the guitar
b. re-write Aside
c. begin writing Near with ryan
d. write a short
that's it. i've decided to start vlogging. so my next installment may be live! somewhat...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
