Printer Jams (And Other Relatively Boring Late Night Thoughts)

This is probably really stupid, but I always feel like an accomplished human being whenever I replace my printer cartridge without fumbling around in there for an hour or getting ink all over my hands.  I've always felt that printers were probably put on this earth to personally torment me.  The one I have right now seems to like me most of the time, but I have a long history with printers that live to eat my important documents.

I've contemplated starting a rapping career and basing the beats off of the sounds from old school printers.  I'll call my first album "Printer Jams."

Maybe that will be the thing that I become famous for.  Okay, going down in history as "That White Chick That Raps Over Samples Of Printers" would be slightly tragic.  But it would be better than never being famous at all.  But maybe I could get an appearance on "Oprah" out of it.

I know she's retiring soon, but I still fantasize about going on her show.  I watched this video today and it only increased my fantasies:



Yes, it's true - I want Oprah to scream my name. 

(...On her television show.  Get your mind out of the toilet.)

I'm probably going to have to settle for dancing with Ellen DeGeneres.  Which is not as great as having Oprah yell my name, but it would still be pretty cool.  Though I haven't watched Ellen's show in a long time and I heard a rumor that she doesn't make her guests dance anymore.  Disappointing. 

Look at me - counting my chickens before I even know if my hens are capable of laying eggs. 

I don't really have a need to be famous anyway.  I just want to be able to make my music, share it with other people, and maybe even be able to live off of it.  That should be do-able, right?

My E.P. is still in the works.  I think it's going to have five tracks.  I'm quite proud of my titles (some of which have very little to do with the lyrics they're associated with):

1.  We Don't Know How It's Ending
2.  Something Wrong With Me (Part Two)
3.  Notes From My (Nonexistent) Confessional Booth
4.  Greatest Thing Since Yesterday
5.  TBA

That's right - I'm still trying to figure out Track #5.  I've been leaning towards sticking a ballad in there to show some range, but I have such a love/hate relationship with my ballads.  Mostly because they are ballads.  I hate admitting that I am capable of writing things that are slow and emotional.  Which is silly.  Some of the greatest songs in rock and roll history are ballads.  It's a mental block I need to get over.

So I think I'm going to record a slower track called "Mice and Men" if I can stomach it.  I worked on it today and finally quit because I couldn't get the piano part to sound right.  I even took a break to eat a frozen dinner and blast some classic Mika for inspiration.  I'm sure my neighbors thought something was wrong when they heard "Happy Ending" and "Any Other World" being blasted on repeat. 

Anyway, I'm totally babbling.  And I'm not even babbling about anything that interesting.  I've had so much on my mind lately and yet all I can muster up for a blog post involves printer cartridges and my E.P. that you're probably all sick of hearing about (but you are all going to get free downloads of it, so be excited).

I think it's time to put my accordion case in front of my door and fall asleep.  Yes, I have been sleeping with my accordion case in front of my door ever since the maintenance man barged into my room last week.  If that's not neurotic, I don't know what is.  It's just one of many signs that it's time for me to make other plans and move on to the next part of my life, whatever that looks like.  I'm not entirely sure what direction this sitcom I'm living in is supposed to take.  I guess I just have to move forward in some direction and find out.   

More relevant and interesting stuff to come, I promise.  Gold star if you made it through this one.  I have a sneaking suspicion it's a little bit snooze-worthy.  Ah well.  Not all of my posts can be stories about ex-drug dealers flying through open windows.

Goodnight, amigos.