I got a call from a financial aid advisor
“So and so said that you wanted me to call her.”
“Yeah, I had a question for her — I think that I asked her to call me back, not you.”
“She asked that I call you back because last time you became… agitated.”
“Oh, I become agitated whenever I talk to anyone from Onestop or financial aid.”
“Uh, did you have a question that you wanted answered?”
“No, it’s been like a month, and I forget now.”
It HAS been a month. Really, I should just randomly call every day to spew invectives at Onestop, the financial aid office, and the office of the president. All I want is timely and correct information about classes, financial aid, and how I can continue to attend the University. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
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This was the assignment with which I had the most trouble, but the problems were almost entirely conceptual. I either had ideas too large for three weeks of shooting or they refused to jell. If you’re interested you could ask, but most people would rather hear dick jokes from me.
This project covers the streets that I travel every day. My new neighborhood is the dangerous and urban Minneapolis I’d wanted when I moved to Minnesota from Iowa almost twenty years ago. This concrete landscape is a home on another planet. Will these sights survive the encroaching gentrification upon whose wave I am riding?
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Somehow I became a semi-professional photographer. I’ve shot a handful of weddings, as well as events and products for work. I wish that I would have had my 20D a year ago. Anyway, you can find bits and pieces of my photography in the various places that we advertise on campus.
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Contrary to the opinion of my father, my birthday was the 14th of August. Oh, the estrangement is not over you bastard, it ain’t over.
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I told you that Alec Soth has a blog. He posted about the bridge thing, so I started to leave a long comment, but then I remembered that I have my own blog, so rather than stop up his works, I’ll stop up my own.
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I’ve been so dramatic lately that you’d think I was a theater major. I’ve been forgetting my true purpose: posting random images for you, the viewing public, to enjoy in 400 pixel glory.
Case in point, hydrangeas and a bee:
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paul: what are you like 63 today?
me: you’re as bad as my dad
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My therapist recommended that I “try something different.” I’m taking his advice and buying some Zubaz, because you can’t rock a creepy moustache without Zubaz. I had to add both “Zubaz” and “moustache” to the spelling dictionary in Firefox to write this post.
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