Using money depresses me

I know just about all of it has to do with the fact that I can be a cheap motherfucker from time to time.  Often times I feel like I have to tell myself that it’s okay to spend money that I’ve saved up for the occasional splurge, vacation, emergency or rainy day.  I’m pretty sure I get my reluctance to drop large sums of money from my own fairly financially conservative family, and it doesn’t help that given some of the circumstances of my parents’ divorce, there’s an expectation of my sister and I that we’re going to have to help financially support both of them at some point, when I’m struggling on a fairly consistent basis to keep my own head above water.

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5% of a gallon

Whenever I go to a gas station, I sometimes glance around at the pumps around me to see what the previous customer paid for their fuel.  Most of the time, it’s so I can see how many people paid out in nice perfectly round even numbers like $20, sometimes $10, and even the occasional $5.  Once I saw one pump actually sitting at like $165, which meant that someone with a Hummer or a Land Rover must have filled up all 40+ gallons of their tank with high-octane at the same cost of what a Sega Genesis, an extra controller and Ecco the Dolphin cost me when I was in the sixth grade.

Twenty bucks I can understand, and to some degree I get ten dollars, if they’re like a teenager or someone who probably still either doesn’t have enough disposable money on hand, or just can’t afford more.  Anything less than $10, and I’m often curious to how pointless it kind of is to even roll into the gas station in the first place, because even if they had pretty fuel economic vehicles, they’re guaranteed to be back in a day or two, tops.  Way, way less if they had like a Ford Explorer or any kind of six-plus cylinder vehicle.  Obviously, I don’t know these peoples’ financial situations, and such implications mean they can’t be too well off, but I’ve seen my share of people in some pretty luxurious cars also doing the whole “pay for less than $10 worth of gas” thing before as well.

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Complexes

Lately, I’ve felt like drawing. This may not seem like a big deal, but it kind of is to me, because I haven’t really done much drawing in quite some time. I just haven’t really had any motivation to do it.

Sometimes I wonder if the people I know are aware that I used to draw quite a lot when I was younger. With the current company I keep these days, I can’t say that I’d be surprised if there were people that were unaware of my more artistic childhood, given the fact that most of my current hobbies and interests revolve around sports, athletics, physical fitness or things like reading books or playing video games. But the truth is that I used to draw a whole lot when I was much younger.

Whether I was any good or not is completely subjective to the eye of whomever is looking at anything I’ve drawn, but as is often the case with lots of artistic types, I can’t say that I’ve ever really been that satisfied with the things I’ve drawn in my lifetime.

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SDCC: Parting Thoughts

To me, posting all of the photos from Comic-Con is what officially makes Comic-Con a thing of the past now. Memories and faces, old and new are all viewable to all eight of my regular visitors and the rest of the would-be inquiring internet. I’ve shared most of my thoughts about the experience as a whole, and people I’ve photographed may or may not be pleased with the pictures of them that I took.

But before I shift my focus towards back to what lies ahead, I had a few more sporadic thoughts, opinions and words I’d like to get out before I officially close the book on the whole SDCC Experience and try to get back to somewhat of a regular schedule.

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SDCC: The 2013 Review

As the months turned into weeks, and the weeks narrowed down to days leading up to my first Comic-Con, I didn’t really know what to expect. Typically, I don’t go to any conventions with a whole lot of expectations because I am pretty boring like that, and I tend to prefer to let things happen as they come, and to simply roll with the punches. The only sentiment that I was really forewarned about was to prepare for lines, and lots and lots of lines.

To cut to the chase, I can say that I had a pretty good time out in San Diego, and Comic-Con itself was pretty worth it. I’ll admit that there was a moment in which I grew exasperated with the incessantly endless crowds and I thought that I wouldn’t want to come back, but as the convention went on and I figured out how to cope with, and avoid them, that sentiment dwindled. I’d consider going back again if the opportunity presented itself.

The thing is, this is not going to be a review where I gush about how Comic-Con was the greatest experience of my life and how that it was the best convention evar. In the grand spectrum of things, I had a good trip, but I don’t feel the need to sugar coat or not mention the things about it that are worth mentioning, good or bad. Which is kind of another way of saying that I did have some gripes, but I’m going to try and be as eloquent as I can when addressing them. But really, there was a lot to like about the event as well.

This is pretty much going to be a verbose post with a whole lot of words, so if you’re waiting for the rest of my photos, I’m still working on them, and they’re going to take a little bit more time.

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Well, that was predictable

I was watching a baseball game when suddenly the scores ticker at the bottom of the screen turned red and started scrolling “GEORGE ZIMMERMAN WAS FOUND” and I mouthed the words “not guilty” before it slowly scrolled out the words “NOT GUILTY.”

My first thought was curiosity of when the first rash of race-related protests were going to start.  When the game ended, I switched to FOX News and CNN (yeah, I know, they’re not exactly the most reliable news outlets but I don’t really know of any others, nor did I really care that much to inquire), and sure enough the protests were already in full swing, and naturally it wasn’t so much about George Zimmerman being found not guilty, but about how the black man was once again wronged.

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Thoughts about Great White Flights

When I was sitting at a table waiting for my breakfast in Jacksonville, I was looking through some visitor guides, and the local weekly rags.  As nerdy as it sounds, this is something that I don’t mind doing, because it kind of gives me a little feel of what kind of community I’m in, and occasional good ideas of things I could do, especially in areas where I have no idea of what to do.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that anything that looked remotely appealing to me, whether it was a show, an event, or a restaurant, always had the same conclusion: go to some place not in Jacksonville.

Whether it was one of the numerous beaches that are due east of the city of Jacksonville, or frequently otherwise St. Augustine which is supposedly 45 minutes south of Jacksonville, just about anything that seemed hip or interesting was outside of Jacksonville itself.

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