2012/01/05

I Sang In Your Home

I am a singer.

I am tearing up from a combination of coughing too hard and listening to music that matters to me. It's past my bedtime. I spent the past two days in Batesville, Ind., with my dear friend Andrew Cambron. We ate buttery food and drank Budweiser, watched an IMAX movie and played Xbox, and drove for some time while listening to Slim Shady. Today I spent several hours training for my semester-long stint as an IDS editor. After the meetings, I went home to get dinner and visit with my beautiful family. After that, I cleaned my bathroom (now to be shared with Sara Jones). Then I spent a few hours writing and illustrating for Friday's paper.

I usually don't write such matter-of-fact posts, but it feels nice after writing with a deliberately colorful voice for an audience outside this blog.

Kanye has been tweeting non-stop for a few hours now. I always getting excited by his enthusiasm, his burning a fuel for my own fire. Who knows what I can accomplish with that in my engine? I have the power to get up from under me.

This is an extraordinary time in my life. Everything is changing.

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