Carpentry and Managing Life

Have you ever forgotten your charger cable somewhere you knew you wouldn't be for another day and not found out about it until you were halfway through watching Shakespeare in Love for the third time in the last week because that's the only thing that makes you happy nowadays? Have you ever tried writing a heartfelt blog post addressing things that have been making your soul heavy but you can't fucking focus because you're typing it out on your goddamn phone BECAUSE YOU LEFT YOUR LAPTOP CHARGER AT YOUR PARENTS HOUSE AND WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME RIGHT NOW I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY FOR ONE FUCKING MINUTE IS THAT TOO DAMN MUCH TO ASK!?!

Yeah, I haven't either, all of that seems really foreign to me too. Anyways, sorry about the blog entry being a day late, I'm sure no one's tracking these but still, I'm sorry to me. Sorry Dylan, you'll get it right next week. I really am upset that I wasn't able to write an entry yesterday, I was doing really well and had a cheery disposition about life because I had finished another poem and gotten past a really tricky part of the Christmas present I'm making for my parents. Today however I feel low. I didn't do much of anything today, which I think is due to the fact that I smoked pot last night, something I've cut way back on but am drawn to again now that I have nothing to do for the next two weeks that requires any form of brain power. It's also helping me deal with the fact that my Dad's cancer is getting worse which is in turn making me depressed which is making me want to lay around in bed all day and think about the one person in the world who could make everything better and in doing so make everything worse. Mostly it's the pot though. It doesn't solve anything and it doesn't even make me feel good anymore. Nowadays all it does is make me numb enough to survive the time between everyone else going to sleep and me going to sleep.

I don't know how well my dad's doing, I sure as hell don't know how well I'm doing. The only thing I know right now is that I'm going to finish my big family christmas present tomorrow and music made by women is at its core better for mending a broken soul. Maybe one of those isn't entirely accurate, I've been on a real Ingrid Michaelson kick lately, so sue me. I want to go back to being that idiotic fool I normally am, the one who gets yelled at for playing tag in the rehearsal hall, or runs headfirst into something stupid just because it'll make for a good story later. I just can't seem to shake this funk I'm in and it's making me do really stupid things that cause more cringing than laughter.

Look at the poor whining artist who can't even let himself complain for a single blog post on his own website without mockery. Boo-Hoo!

Do you wanna hear about this big present I'm making? Okay! I'm building my parents a cornhole set. My family calls it the bean bag game, but most people know it by its gross porn sounding name. For those of you who don't know what that is: tough. Go google it or something. This set has been a plan in my mind since I started working in the scene shop at my University because my extended family owns two sets and we always play them at the two houses where they reside. My Uncle's Dad who I will call my Granduncle simply felt like making them when he saw an ad for the template in some old timey magazine. He gave one to my Grandparents and kept one for himself. Now my uncle has a set and my Grandma has the other, that's all just a reiteration, the importance is that my Grandpa and Granduncle were handymen, they knew their way around a workshop and could build anything for their families at a moment's notice. I'm not saying I am that person in my family, I'm pretty lousy when it comes to non-artistic endeavors, but if I could just make this one thing with my own two hands...

Well, at least I'd feel in control of something, which if you've noticed a theme here would be a big step up. I've got the frames built and now just need to put the plywood siding on that makes the wooden triangles become the game some of us know and love to get drunk playing. I'm scared of the making the circle that the bean bags go into, but I'm sure I'll be fine. If not I can always just go buy another sheet of plywood and start over. 

That's enough for now. I may not see you next week as exactly as I'd like, but you'll still be getting your weekly update before the week is up. Until then...

Dylan Zucati