Yesterday I read the news. Bo Diddley is dead at 79. Obama finally wins the nomination. Outside the rain rains. Big heavy sheets and it’s not cold so I leave the balcony door open and listen to it. the metallic pluck of occasional drops on the railing sounds like a typewriter and makes an excellent backdrop to whatever music I have on (Her Space Holiday – Thanks Mellen). I’m writing an entry as placeholder… because while there’s big news in the wider world, there isn’t much to speak of in my little secluded nook. The Hip Replacements played their first show ever at Clap last Saturday, and things went swimmingly. The after-party was phenomenal, the dancing n DJing… I woke up with a crick in my neck from bobbing my head so furiously. We’ve had a couple offers for other gigs already, which I’m sure will be fine. I’ve also got an offer on the table for an acoustic set at Bubo, which I think sounds fun. Yes, yes… it’s all fine n dandy isn’t it? I run, I play guitar, I teach. The end. I’ve never had an entry like that before, right? I’m bored. Christ, I’m just tired of it already. I’ve accomplished so many of my big goals (even 2 months no smoking now!) that it feels there’s nothing left to do. I’m running out of ways to fill the long, mostly empty days. I’m running out of ideas for my lessons too, and the thought of another 365 days of making/doing them fills me with a kind of exhausted dread. This isn’t my line of work, goddamnit. This feeling too will pass, I know. It comes, it goes. But today, or this week, rather, I just want to get stateside, hit the ground running… I want vibrance, culture, cussing, drinking, lewdness, and a decent live show to go see rather than having to put em all up myself for better or worse. Today, at least, I want OUT.