An Afternoon Stroll to the Library

An Afternoon Stroll to the Library

The other day, I walked to the Perry–Castañeda Library (PCL) on UT campus. Twenty minute walk from where I live. I don’t think I’ve ever been inside that building. Curiously, I’ve lived a great amount of my little life walking distance from the University of Texas, and have hardly ever gone there. I guess it’s kind of normal as I am not nor have I ever been a student at that university. And not so strangely, I’ve always assumed that UT is mostly for the students who attend classes and the professors who teach them, as well as the army of folks it takes to administer to the campus and those two groups. What I didn’t know is that the library, probably the best library in the city of Austin, is open to the public. Isn’t that cool? So why would I take on such a journey in our balmy 95+ degree Central Texas weather? A couple of weeks ago, I met a friend of a friend of mine who works at PCL. She’s a librarian, and she is in charge of a tiny little corner of the this massive garguantan library (6 floors, each of which is hundreds of thousands of square feet, massive is an understatement). The five hundred square feet she is in charge of is called the UT Poetry Center. It’s tucked away in a massive study room where what seems like thousands of tables are gathered as well as a couple of computer labs, each furnished with hundreds of the latest fastest best computers available. There, in a corner as if an afterthought, a...
Day One Without Facebook

Day One Without Facebook

9:10 Well, we have arrived. It’s Wednesday morning. Off into the abyss I go, into the darkness that is life without Facebook. Four or six weeks, I don’t know yet. I haven’t disconnected my account yet. I’m thinking about it. I’ve been threatening to leave since last week, and now is the day that I must do it. So I will. 9:18 It’s done. Deactivated. They keep all your information, so it really doesn’t matter. I can come back right now, or in three months, and my page will be as I left it. Wonder how long they keep people’s pages? It’s like people who die. That drives me nuts. Once they find out that somebody is dead, that page should go down. I remember a few years ago, I was like, hey wonder what happened to so and so? I clicked on my friend’s page to see that he was still on FB, didn’t read his timeline, and sent him a message asking him where he was living these days, and that I was thinking of driving up to Waco, that we should hang out. Anyway, a day or so later, I got a message from his ex-wife informing me that William had passed away several months before, that they were keeping his page up as a reminder of his life. Since then, every time somebody dies, I’ve noticed their FB page stays up. What the fuck? How am I suppose to remember who’s dead or not? Some of these people I only know peripherally. In my case, I’m still alive, however if I die in the next...
The blog entry where I drop lots of names

The blog entry where I drop lots of names

The road is where I am meant to be. That’s where I am the happiest. The biggest issue I faced while zigzagging through the Southwest and California was money. Sure, I sold a few books, however friends and family were the ones who kept me alive. They gave me money, food to eat, places to sleep and shower. Y’all are amazing! Thank you! That’s not a sustainable as a lifestyle. While in California, I tried to settle down, sending out lots of job applications. Nothing came of it. At some point while living on the farm, I had sold a few books, and some of my biggest supporters gifted me with some substantial gas money, I decided it was time to go home. My old job took me back. Yeah! My first day back, I had ten bucks in my pocket as the entirety of my estate. I lived in my RV down the street, used the porta-potty in their parking lot in off hours, and took showers at Barton Springs. I spent tons of time looking for a place to live. I’ll spare y’all the details. These last few months have been difficult. I’ve moved to brand new places without any money before. However, moving back to a city that I know as well as I know Austin, was strangely not just difficult, but in many ways painful. So, fuck it! My Daily Reminder: I am much better off today than I was six months ago. Here’s a short list: I moved into a tiny apartment where I lived ten years ago. It is located two blocks from...