Black Lips - Modern Art

Though their sound has matured, black lips will always bring me back to the simpler glasshouse days.

the light that never goes out

I've been moping around for the past two weeks since my better half left for his internship in one of the coolest cities on the planet. Pathetic as it may be, I've literally done nothing but indulge in my very own pity party. Yet, this is NOT solely because I feel lonely as hell, deprived of the company of the one once attached to my hip, but that I failed to score a single internship I applied to, leaving me without an agenda for this long summer in the boring suburbs of Los Angeles. Whether the companies found a more qualified (read: MBA-holding) candidate to fill their $15/hr vacancy, or the internship was altogether retracted because of management issues, my persistence was no match, nor was it ever a contender. Just as I was about to admit defeat, my baby sent me this kicker as a sweet nudge to 'cheer the fuck up.'

It's a long speech, but the meat of it is this: "It is our failure to become our perceived ideal that ultimately defines us and makes us unique. It's not easy, but if you accept your misfortune and handle it right, your perceived failure can become a catalyst for profound re-invention." Conan instilled in me hope, and hopeful is definitely a step up from dejected.