The Definite Maybe

The Goodbye Post

2007-04-16T02:21:00.000-07:00

"And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings."

I'm not happy.

Personally, professionally, and any other -ally you might think of. I'm just not. I feel very tired, very stalled, and very lethargic in my lack of complacency. There are so many things that just don't seem to be going right, and what I'm doing isn't helping. Rather than continue to calibrate and skate through the days, I'm making a full scale adjustments. I'm turning the levers and pushing the buttons and hopefully heading in a new direction.

I left Vegas, where I had an amazing time, and realized I didn't want to go back to my "real life." It's not because I spent three days doing nothing but driving and enjoying myself, and work was the last thing on my mind. It was because I felt like me, the me who can just be me, for the first time in a while. I liked the freedom to be myself and to have fun whilst it happened. Maybe that's my fault for posing and posturing here, but it wasn't something I was even conscious of until I had extricated myself from this place.

When I got into town I just kept driving until I hit the ocean. I parked my car by Ma'Kai and walked down to the beach. I stood there, watching the tide, alone with my thoughts and the promise of whatever lay beyond that dark horizon. I watches as waves were born in parts, meeting in the middle. I watched cares melt away and wondered why I spend so much time cooped up in offices and apartments. I'm paying a price for living in Los Angeles, so I may as well make the best of what it has to offer. I need to get a bike. I'll ride it down to the beach more often.

Walking away from the sounds of seashells, I wondered to myself. I wondered if I'd have the balls to leave LA if I spent the next year making the most of it and still didn't like it here, or the life I was living. I moved out here in August of 2003. If I can't accept the best and the worst it has to offer half a decade later, I think I might have no choice but to pack it in. There are plenty of other options out there, and a writer can work from anywhere as long as he has a place to write and some inspiration after all.

Speaking of writing, this will be my last blog entry for the foreseeable future. This is one of the bad habits I've fallen into, chronicling every day, every bad feeling, and trying to capture every moment. The moments pass, as we've already discussed. I don't need them all preserved in poorly written recollections on the Internet to remember them. It's not like remembering and describing captures what they really are or what they really mean. I remembered what I said, about moments, way back in my blog. I wrote, "This moment is infinity, and it's getting longer." I don't know exactly what it means, but I know what it meant at that time in my life. I don't want it to have the same meaning anymore.

So I'm not going to blog. This is a crutch I need to live without. It feeds depression, and I'm not going to give in to that trap. I'm not down for that cause any longer. I'm not going to hang out online. I've already given up myspace, but I'm not going to hop on IM either outside or work. Too many opportunities to screw things up. When I get bored and want to do something lame and potentially hazardous to my mind, I'm going to do one of two things: Write or go to the gym. Both are good for me in different ways, and if I do either enough, it will pay big dividends.

2007 has been a really shitty year for me. We're exactly three and a half months in, and already enough things have gone wrong to last the entire year. I've been through the ringer, and we still have 8.5 more months to go before I can get things on track for the next one. I need to salvage what I can right now and not look back. I'm going to try and live a real life I enjoy. More doing things, less Internet. Some other changes are in store as well, but we're still working out all the details.

I guess that's it. I haven't explained things nearly as well as I would have liked, but this is me writing to me, so really I'm the only one that needs to understand. There are hundreds of thousands of blogs out there. Feel free to find a much better one to get your fix if this one never starts up again.

Thanks for reading. Have a nice life.

On the Road

2007-04-13T09:56:00.000-07:00

I'm hitting the road in a couple minutes. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.

Bye.

Glutton for Self Punishment

2007-04-13T00:07:00.000-07:00

I wish I knew what was wrong with me. I really do.

I was set in my ways. All I had to do was keep my head down, mind my own business, and avoid certain dangerous traps. Well, one dangerous trap, an interest in someone else's life, and poking my head out later and I'm kicking myself. What is it about this girl that I can't shake? Okay, don't answer that. I can name too many things, and we would all be here a while. Why do I always slip up on Wednesdays and Thursdays?

I guess the problem for me is that I've been using music as a major crutch for me. And it's been good. My walk on Tuesday night with nothing but the iPod was an emotionally cleansing experience. So I hear this song tonight in an unexpected and dangerous place. And my heart skips a beat. Literally. I was just so damn shocked. I was typing and saying things I wasn't meaning to say. Don't get me wrong, it was nothing inappropriate or out of line, but the timing wasn't exactly right. And I said these things, and then walked into the hallway. I had a chat with my roommate about sports and Lost and a few other things. I went in the bathroom for a minute, and when I came back, I was cursing myself for being stupid.

The music was different. I wasn't different, but I felt different. And so did everything else. So now I'm kicking myself wondering why I make the same mistakes over and over. And while when I look in the mirror (literally) and have a realization, I can't believe in it a few days later. Or maybe why I should stay the hell off the Internet exhausting ways to pass the time when I should be finding a more productive waste of my time.

I can blame the music this time. For tricking me into thinking something, and for the fact that there isn't a song that matches up with my exact situation or mindset. There are songs in the vein and the mood and the style of what I need, but lyrics or situations are added. I'm not scorned, just broken. The song I'm writing is called, "I Opened the Door to My Heart (You Slammed it Shut)." It's a misleading title but the lyrics tell my tale. They'll confuse some other lost soul one day when the Rectum album gets released ("Damn Near Killed 'im" - In stores never).

***
So I'm headed to the Vegas in the morning. Gonna see some shows and hang out with Jordan. I'm going to have to do this trip on the cheap side, because all my money (literally) is earmarked for my IRA since I didn't remember to contribute earlier. Well, I figure the me 30 years from now will appreciate this sacrifice and the slight interest charge my AmEx will accrue before I can pay it off. Anyhow, I'm looking forward to it. Quite a bit, more than I have anything in a while (with the exception of The Lookout, which I was stoked for).

I would love to leave my computer here, but I'll need to check and make sure my priority book for the week goes out, so I'll need to be reachable and able to view things. I really hope I don't do anything else stupid while tethered to this keyboard. Knowing me, I'll find a new way to screw up. I'll probably end up posting a pic of my genitalia (which does not exist) and have my blogger account get deleted. Years of life gone.

But that's kind of the thing about life. You live it, living for every moment of every day, but you can't capture a moment. Every moment you love, hate, or are any emotion in between is fleeting and gone before you even realize. Sucks for the good ones, but is the only way to cope with the bad I assume. And you remember one of my favorite quotes, right? "“One minute was enough, Tyler said, a person had to work hard for it, but a minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection” Perfection is this ever-changing monster you can never attain, and when you get that moment-- *poof* It's gone.

I've had some moments. Or maybe I should say I lived through them. I'd love to get a few more going pretty soon. Because this moment I seem to be stuck in is the opposite, and it's lasting much longer than I would like. What was that thing I once wrote when my blog was interesting? Something about this moment is your life, and it's lasting forever. Wish I could remember.

Apparently I gave Cov some good advice a couple years ago when she was in my shoes. I said something about how one day she would wake up and miss missing him. Man I wish that was me right now. Because missing the person is much worse than missing the feeling. Especially on fucking Wednesdays and Thursdays. I'll be fine for the next five or so days, and then Wednesday night I'll be having a hard time again. Come on empty advice I had no business giving... Kick in for me.

Stupid moments...

Friends Across the Globe Converging

2007-04-12T19:08:00.000-07:00

If I can survive out here until August, two people I like and respect will be moving to Los Angeles.

Mike from NCSA is moving out here following a summer of post-graduation whatevering.

Alexander from Atlanta via NCSA is coming following whatever crazy travels have taken him to Peru and who knows where else.

I admire both of them immensely. They're both better people and definitely better filmmakers than I. I'm proud to call them my friends, and I'll be happy to hang out with them in this, the city what swallows souls.

*

2007-04-12T01:23:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went to dinner. I ordered the wrong chicken with my chicken curry, but I still enjoyed it. Tali's storytelling got even better.

I came home to an e-mail from Signe that told me Kurt Vonnegut was dead. There are not words.

He will be missed.

Fast Ended

2007-04-11T00:19:00.000-07:00

Well, Passover came and went. And while I didn't go to a Seder, I did follow the general rules of keeping Kosher for the holiday for the full eight days and nights. Which brought us to tonight, and time to break the fast.

I was supposed to hang out with Tali, but she was busy not eating sushi and talking down a half-shaved 300 lb. beauty queen from doing anything drastic while watching American Idol. I thought about heading to the Oyster House for some tasty food and beverage choices, but passing out during the Braves game (we won, again!) meant driving to Studio City and consuming alcohol probably wasn't the best idea. So where to eat I mused...

I was deciding between deli or Italian (ptew!) food, when I settled on going to Jerry's Famous. Seeing as how it's a short 1.72 miles from my apartment, it seemed like the perfect walk. In shorts. But seriously, I type this to you completely in earnest. There's definitely something to be said for a really great walk. It's almost cathartic, allowing you to purge whatever is on your mind and focus on nothing but the journey and the zen-like state of getting there.

It helps when you have the right soundtrack. I grabbed my iPod, which was half charged and not updated (definitely not with the 40 sad songs I got yesterday), but I did a quick search and threw on the T's. I hit play and let it rip in whatever order the player saw fit. Man, I don't know why it wasn't working the last time I listened, but this was the perfect set for my trek. I was struck by how simple, at least in lyrics, a lot of the songs were. Very little was hidden in metaphors or similes; it's just honest and from the heart. I'm not that hard to please with music. Don't suck, and make sure it's pleasing to the ear, or at the very least interesting. Sure, it's indie pop music (an oxymoron, I'm aware), and that's the reason people delve into cliches when they try to explain their lives, but it's necessary for the good of those not smart enough to express themselves when left to their own devices.

Jerry's - tongue and chopped liver on sour dough. Unintentionally brought to me as a triple decker sandwich. Any bread is good bread when you've been without. Diddy Riese - chocolate chip cookie and mint chip ice cream sandwich. Rob - stuffed.

It was a good walk. Despite a voice mail setback earlier in the evening, all was right with the world. I was moving fast, listening to the soundtrack of my moment, and even managing the occasional smile. It's funny. I do see the world differently now. There's less general disdain for random people, I no longer find absolute misery in public solitude, and I feel like my outlook has changed so much. Maybe it's her doing, maybe it's maturing, or maybe it's the drugs. I don't know, but it feels good not to despair.

I'm doing well. One foot after another, one day at a time. I sound like an alcoholic, but I'm already recovered. Just one more thing to do, and all is right with the world.

***
Apparently I passed the test. Go me.

(I'll tell you what this means if and when anything comes of it. Otherwise, ask the only person who's online more than me.)

6 Weeks

2007-04-09T22:01:00.000-07:00

Man, how time dies.

I'm doing well, all things considered. Except for the mania which has marked my recovery process, I'm functional, capable of smiling, and more bored than actually upset most of the time.

If I had to give an estimate, I'd say that most days I'm 84% recovered. I don't think I'll ever get to 100%, at least not until everything is said and done, but I'm shooting for 99% pretty soon. I'd like my friend back, and I think it's necessary to be in that 99th percentile before that's a good idea.

Busy Day for ATL Sports

2007-04-09T19:10:00.000-07:00

My little bar atop gmail kep distracting me with tails of woe from the homeland.

1 - Harrington joins Falcons as backup to Vick.

2 - Hampton has torn tendon.

3 - Hawks suspend Smith.

Okay, so #1 isn't woe, but it was a distraction.

The Rest of Sunday

2007-04-09T03:15:00.000-07:00

I watched the premiere of Entourage, which they're actually calling the second half of Season 3, ate sausage and matzah for dinner, talked with my roommate, watched two more episodes of Raines to catch me up to speed, crawled into bed and watched The Terminal which kept me up until about 3am. Then I had to respond to a facebook message from Michelle, which asked me to respond to an e-mail from her on January 23rd. Before any more time passed, I did. And now I'm wondering if I can wake up in 3 hours and 45 minutes (7am) to go for a jog.

Life... It goes.

Worries

2007-04-08T21:11:00.000-07:00

When a relationship ends amicably, or at the very least without incident, most people assume both people go through roughly the same grieving process. They get sad, run the gamut of emotions, and generally miss one another. At least, that's what we assume. What if only one person misses the other?

It's a terrible thing to think, but the idea popped into my head tonight. What was supposed to be a leisurely stroll to Walgreen's to satiate my sweet tooth suddenly turned into a walk that got evil thoughts in my brain. I just kept thinking about how alone I feel right now dealing with this, despite the aid of friends. Then I wondered, would it be easier if I knew she was doing the same? Sure. But what if she isn't? I don't need her to be as sad or as miserable or anything like that, but I need her to feel something. And I know she does, but how crippling is it to think that someone in the same position might not be?

Which of course led me to less crippling but equally sad thought number two. I'm going to be replaced. While we've both stated that continuing this friendship is important, we've just as decisively put a stop to it "for now." There's no communication, and thus, we're depending on other friends for friendship. So first I'll end up replaced as her best friend, and then later as the man she loves. I don't need both per se, but I'd sure like to hang on to at least one of those. I can't imagine Los Angeles without her, because I know what it was like for the 15 months before she was even in my life, and the following 10 before I started getting to know her.

This time thing sucks as, because it's such the double-edged sword. It's necessary, but it's a slippery slope between enough and too much.

What I Did When

2007-04-08T17:44:00.000-07:00

Thursday:
Phil sent out an evite in the morning inviting everyone (all the TC related people) to go see 300 at the Century City Mall by the office. One response reminded me that it's never too soon to know nothing about someone.

I had an impromptu lunch with my boss to discuss the future. It got me excited, and took my mind off of things. I was pumped, making notes, thinking, and trying to put things in motion. Then I was at work after everyone at the office left, and Blond and Sarah showed up. We walked up to the mall where people were enjoying drinks at Harper's Happy Hour. I told the waiter, "I'll have nothing," a few more drinks were drunk, and we headed up to the AMC.

300 was really good. It's a disservice to call it MTV done right (stylistically), but anything that hyper-stylized in order to be edgy is going to beg some comparisons. Really enjoyable, really visceral, and really satisfying. I have to say, there were 2 or 3 times in the movie where my "Aw shit..." reflex took over and I just watched in awe at what was happening.

Somehow we had timed things perfectly and the movie got out a little bit before a showing of The Lookout was scheduled to begin. I looked every employee right in the face, convinced Blond and Sarah to join me, and then walked right into the other theater. It didn't matter that everyone spent ten minutes talking in the middle of the lobby. No one was going to mess with us, because this is LA after all. And then a manager walked into the theater with a flashlight. He asked the girls in the front row for tickets and ID. And then he left... "Is anyone else's heart pounding?" Sarah asked. Yes, I answered, but not much faster than usual.

The movie was really good. I was psyched by the premise, the cast, and the filmmaker behind it. It did not disappoint. Scott Frank needs to write and direct more movies. Joseph Gordon-Levitt is solidifying his reputation as one of the best actors working right now with seemingly every movie. In the young category, he only has Ryan Gosling to compete with. Ultimately, his only downfall will be going for the big pay day or never aging. I'd compare him to a darker Johnny Depp with less eccentricity in his characters.

Friday:
Over 11 hours at work, and then I went home. I was supposed to be meeting Tali, my Internet friend whom I'd never met at some point, but she was busy blogging or something. She's in town for a filmmaking thing, and so she has all these responsibilities for it. Anyhow, I finally headed out just before 9 (I think) and picked her up by The Bridge. She wasn't intimidated by the fact that my car hasn't been washed in almost 500 days, or that I could be a complete psycho. You know, because I'm not.

Even though she had already broken Passover, we agreed that we would try to eat somewhere where we could follow the rules. I figured we could find somewhere in Westwood, so I drove to the Village and found parking almost immediately. We walked around a little while so we could see our options and so she could say she'd seen it, then decided on Damon & Pythias - Food For the Gods. Yeah, that's the name. You'd think it would be Greek based on name and architecture. It's not. I think she had a barbecue chicken salad, and I had a southwest steak salad. Pretty good stuff.

But the question on everyone's mind is... Was this girl crazy or what? Nope, she's totally normal, well adjusted, and someone I wouldn't mind hanging out with if she lived a little closer than Miami, even if she does get cold too easily. And, she's an excellent storyteller.

I drove her by the pier and Santa Monica and down toward Venice until the roads got crazy. She thinks I'm much less shy/depressed/depressing than I seem online. Then she was gone, and I went back to my real life.

Saturday:
Fox Saturday Baseball fooled me by beginning their broadcast at Turner Field in Atlanta and then showing the Dodgers game here instead. Can't really remember all of what happened. I read three chapters of How to Make Money like a Porn Star! I set up my XBOX 360 in the living room on our new old TV and hooked it up to XBOX Live, and downloaded some demos. I should really own more than one game myself and get all my borrowed crap back to people. And I need to buy Crackdown, because it kicks ass.

I watched the Donnie Darko Director's Cut which seemed to add about 3 meaningless scenes and a bunch of transitions. I can't help but think interlaying text over Donnie's eye didn't make any sense. It's still good, but the original is cooler. All the added stuff would have worked fine as part of the bonus features.

More blah during the day I'm sure, made sausage and had matzah for dinner. Note to self, protein tastes much better in milk than water. Much better.

I tried to watch Slap Shot as I went to sleep, but I was too tired from doing nothing all day.

Sunday:
It's only 6, so my day is incomplete, but here goes anyway.

Woke up around 10:30, and peed for about six minutes. Um, I got out of bed first. I put on what I can refer to here only as self-help videos on my laptop when I got back into bed. They're not, but it's a byproduct of watching them I guess. The Braves kicked it off early, then beat the Mets while I checked the score online. Guess who's in first place?

Ate some food (matzah, in case you were wondering), played some more game demos, came in here and laid on the bed. That's pretty much half of what I do now. I put on my iTunes, play some music, and lie on the bed thinking of nothing and everything. Sometimes I sleep, other times I just lay there.

Today I tossed and turned, trying three different pillows. None of them helped me escape the sad realization I came to. Damn... So close. Better luck tomorrow. I'm a mess.

Then I wrote a blog.

Happy Easter, gentiles.

Seagull

2007-04-06T02:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Seagull,
I wrote you a letter. I'm not sending this letter because I don't want to burden you. If you decide you're up for it, I think it might be good for you to take a look. I'll try not to send without your permission.

Respectfully,
-Beagle

Assistance

2007-04-06T00:58:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you talk to exactly the right people.

You don't always hear the things you want to hear. Sometimes it's the last thing you want to hear, but it's what you need to hear. Luckily, in the process of talking to the right people, you learn things that help you to deal with whatever you hear.

Thanks to everyone who helped me out. You've been invaluable during the last few weeks. Thanks for just being there.

Frustrater

2007-04-05T00:40:00.000-07:00

Why does everything end up the same? The same thoughts, the same conclusions. The same feeling, which is not feeling. I'm tired but unable to sleep, because every day is blah. Blah blah blah.

SSDD, for lack of a better term.

I just need one more thing to change. Well, maybe two things. This time zone isn't working for me, especially if games go to extra innings.

Somebody, please help.

Not a Robot, Apparently

2007-04-04T19:39:00.000-07:00

So the good news is, I'm not broken.

Waking up this morning, I realized I do have the capacity to feel. Well, feel something other than comfortably numb. The catch is, I may need to be asleep to do it. After waking up, I had the distinct aroma of sadness and disappointment in my brain.

I could remember two dreams, both involving some of the same characters. In one, a happy meeting occurred, plans were made, and then I was stood up. I paced back and forth in my room, only it wasn't my room. It was sort of the generic room I think of when I think of high school romance. It was the room I pictured Sarah writing Dave the letter I once read about her disappointment when the phone rang and it wasn't him. It was my room emotionally, but it wasn't a room I've ever lived in. I paced back and forth, back and forth, looking at my cell phone, making calls, and being annoyed when it went to voice mail.

And here's where things get fuzzy. I don't remember waking up until I was actually up this morning. So I think I actually must have fallen from one dream to the next, like crashing through one of those paper walls they have in certain Asian countries and ending up in a totally different place. Brian and Paul Rothstein were there. We were in someone else's large house, maybe a mansion, and Brian was opening boxes addressed to me. They were filled with comics, among them the Ennis/Robertson joint, The Boys. A young child, I think a girl, was asking questions about the books content, and for us to explain the word shit to her. Paul did his best, using dream magic to somehow shift the word from shit to shawl, and explain that it was used to cover certain parts of the body in inclement weather.

Then the puppet show was about to begin, and more spectators filed in. I was surprised at who showed, and I meekly said hello to them. There was a beat, and then someone began chastising me. They began with, "Even though you've been nice lately," which I didn't know what to make of, and then things got worse. I don't think I heard more than a line or two, and nothing was particularly vitriolic, but I woke up sad.

I woke up sad, and this made me happy. I was happy I could feel, and sad because of what had transpired, and what does that say about my subconscious if I'm standing up and being rude to myself. Then I was numb again, because I realized this hadn't happened, and that it was merely a dream. And maybe if I can convince myself that all bad things occur within dreams, even if I don't mean to, I'll be trapped in this state forever, floating through my days.

Intellectually I still feel. Emotionally, I'm detached. I want the worlds to merge again. I wonder why this is happening. I wonder why I couldn't remember I was in Seattle for three days until I looked on my blog to find out what I did this weekend. I need a time machine. Or a fast forward button. Just a one time thing. Get me back to the real.

Passed Over Seder

2007-04-03T20:50:00.000-07:00

I didn't go to a Seder last night or tonight. As penance, I'm doing laundry.

In addition to being in my numb funk, I've been thinking about why I always feel like I'm getting nagged to do the things required of me as a Jew whenever there is a holiday. Why does no one question the fact that I eat meat and cheese together (bathing a cow in its mother's milk), or that I do work on the sabbath. What makes one holiday more important than another, especially when I've been taught that Shabbat and the high holidays are the most important.

Right now, I don't feel as though religion is that important to me. I believe that faith, belief in something, is much more important than following the strict dogma imposed by religions. Religions provide a template for how to live your life. I live my life the way Judaism taught, as best I can. If I'm being completely honest with myself, I should actually say as it suits me. I'm not perfect. But then again, neither is religion. It can be perverted, and often is. Nothing is a greater sticking point for people than what they believe in their souls. It's the reason discussions of politics become so volatile, and the reason religion is often tied to politics.

I believe in many of the things Judaism has taught me. When you get right down to it, I believe in its commandments and its rules. But I don't believe that I must follow everything exactly to the letter. I believe that if I believe, and follow the blue prints for how to live my life as a pious person, I don't need anything else.

One day I'd like to get into a rhythm of going to services. I'd like to make sure I don't skip out on holidays, and I definitely want to do the occasional Shabbat service. But right now, religion isn't what's important to me. Maybe that makes me a terrible person. But one must be true with one's self before he can think about anything bigger or beyond.

Status Report

2007-04-02T23:08:00.000-07:00

Dear faithful reader,
this entry marks #375 for this iteration of my personal blog. It began shortly after a drunken phone call from someone I would later love. Questions were asked, and could not be answered, and I needed a change. The idea was to present a me to the world that was less pathetic, less self-important, and more interesting. In the 375 posts since 8.30.2005, I'd like to think I've accomplished this more than I've failed.

So who am I now? I can't answer this question. 5 weeks ago I knew exactly who I was, what I wanted, and roughly where I was headed. Ever since, things have gone wacky. In the past few days, it's almost as if I'm having an out-of-body experience. I'm literally seeing everything from an outsider's perspective, watching myself act. Everything is strangely detached, like some turned the reality in reality off. Imagine flying over your world, watching it all, but being above the cloud layer where you know nothing can touch you.

I don't know how I feel about anything right now, because I'm not really feeling. I hate certain people (artists), but that seething isn't there. I know there's supposed to be some pain in my heart, but I don't feel it. I can think about it rationally, but on a purely gut level it doesn't exist. Did I suddenly reach a zen-like state through meditation I'm not aware of? I'm at a loss to explain any of it, but I know that I'm confused as all hell. Maybe it's the fact that I've been sleeping on my amazing pillow top mattress, which was vying with some heavy competition at the hotel in Seattle, for weeks on end now. I don't know.

I was having a hard time not furrowing my brow today. It was a stretch just to explain how I wanted to look. Normal brow, even tempered. I found the key walking home from work. I smiled, knowing endorphins are supposedly released and that they would be bring me some modicum of happiness, so that maybe the scowls would stop. And what did I realize. It worked. Walking down the street, a stupid smile on my face, I felt better. Just because you have nothing to smile about, it doesn't mean you shouldn't. And I don't think until earlier tonight I had ever had a thought even remotely that cheery without a reason.

So I'm sitting here, my stomach churning, begging me to open my gullet, and I'm just here. I'm in the moment, and out of the moment, James Blunt cooing softly in the background. It's Passover and I'm not going to any Seder services. My hair looks damn good, and nothing makes sense. Am I so miserable that I've snapped and become calm as a Hindu calf? Am I actually blissful? Maybe I've finally learned to stop sweating the small stuff. That might explain this sudden and strange transformation.

I've made so many changes of late, and I wonder if that has anything to do with it. To those looking from the outside in, they're largely imperceptible. As I've said, it's more calibration than outright changes (hair being the exception). It makes me laugh. A week or two ago it would have made me sad. These tiny tweaks, adjustments to the world around me, and now I'm feeling like a totally different person.

I just wish bliss came with purpose, which I don't really have right now. I want a time machine. Not sure if I want to go backward or forward, but I'd like the option to escape the now. It's true what Favreau said. You miss the pain. Maybe it's the meds. Maybe it's the friends. Maybe it's the music.

I don't need life to make sense. I just need a direction and a kick in the ass. This is my status report. I hope you're content.

Thanks for reading.

Their Time?

2007-04-02T18:59:00.000-07:00

The NCAA Championship game just went to commercial, accompanied by the music of Plain White Ts. It was the first track off their last album, Every Second Counts entitled "Our Time Now."

I was a little surprised, but good for them. I'm a big fan, and I've been listening to them a lot lately. Congrats, boys.

***
I'll have another post later tonight. It will be #375, and I'm calling it Status Report.

I'm Thinking About Bells

2007-03-30T23:11:00.000-07:00

Typing this from my hotel room in Seattle. There's already a workblog entry posted that detailed most of today's events.

Uneventful flight, scary cab driver to the hotel. Although, he was nothing compared to cinder block lead foot man. The courtesy shuttle driver from our hotel that took us to Marz liked to floor it. And it didn't matter if he was going 8 blocks or 8 feet between stops. He was on his way like he couldn't wait to get there. He also had a hard time finding the hotel, despite me giving him the exact address. "I've never approached it from this angle before."

Lunch was fun. We probably walked the wrong way from the con. Instead of rows of restaurants (which were there, but unseen if we went the other way), we found a million places selling kitchen equipment and furniture that looked like restaurants. But they weren't. A sandwich place had wait staff that yelled at us and dropped lettuce. A Greek place had a shattered front window and no customers.

We ended up at a Vietnamese place where I ate Pho. Michael wouldn't try the fish sauce that came with his dish. I'm disappointed in him. Although, if you get in close (or you get the raw stuff), it does smell like the stuff that comes out of Pete's butt when he gets too excited. Pete is my dog back home, so no cause for alarm. Anyhow, the food brought back memories. I try not to think about things, but I do. Every day is a step, this was just a rockier one. And also, I need to know how to order what I want, instead of guessing and hoping for the best. I think I did okay today, but this is just one meal. I need a guide I can keep in my wallet.

I think the real test for me is what I do as I pass all of these gift shops. I'm in the habit of buying bells. But not for me. So I'm not sure if I want to pass up this trip to the Pacific Northwest and not get one. I know what it says if I do. I know what it says if I don't. But here's the thing. Do I know anything? I think there are multiple readings based on whether or not I buy a bell in Seattle. We'll see how it goes.

I know, much of this I shouldn't be writing about. But I'm tired, so I gave in. Sue me. Go read someone else's blog if you don't like it.

Out the door @ 5am

2007-03-29T23:44:00.000-07:00

I have to be ready for my shuttle in just over 5 hours, so I'm going to transfer some files to my laptop, gather some cords, and hit the hay.

All in all, today wasn't a bad day. I had a major slip, but that's because sometimes the unexpected happens. Anyhow, here comes a 3-day distraction.

As mentioned on the workblog, I'll be spending the next 3 in Seattle attending the Emerald City Comicon, along with some of my cohorts on the creative side. It's my first trip to the Seattle area, and I'm looking forward to it. Apparently there's a needle there.

Have a good weekend. I'll try to post something while I'm gone, but these things tend to get busy.

Adam Church is Dreamy

2007-03-29T17:25:00.000-07:00

Adam Church is my friend. Sometimes he's funny.

This is one of those times.

***
I'm going to experiment with video a little bit more in the coming weeks/months. Not sure I can stand to look at myself, but I like the idea of staring into a tiny black square and saying the things I normally say in word format. I'm considering attempting something at the con this weekend for the work blog, but it will be totally unplanned, so the audio may be whack.

Addendum

2007-03-29T03:06:00.000-07:00

I should also add that I'm no longer wasting time on myspace and facebook, because they are a waste of time, and detrimental to my desired mental state and future progress.

New Directions

2007-03-29T02:19:00.000-07:00

So I've been blogging pretty much nonstop since I got back from New York. Longtime readers will remember one of my last posts over at Trivial Consequence 2.0 from my xanga/lj days, wherein I discovered a website which noted a correlation between the depressed and journaling. It was sad to think that all my rantings were merely the way in which many depressed folk got their rocks off. I knew it was therapeutic, and cathartic, but the article claimed that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy in which the journaling merely strengthened the depressive state because that's what it dwelled on.

So I did a few more posts, tidied up, and moved to the wonderful world of blogger, bringing what I hoped was a new spin on my life to The Definite Maybe. Problem is, I'm not happy with the last four weeks here. It's sad, and pathetic, and whiny. And I don't like it. This blog isn't supposed to be exempt from that, but it's not supposed to be consumed by it, and representing it every day. I've had a reason. More than one if you count me being sick too. This break up has wrecked me, and for every good day, there's at least twice as many bad. There's been plenty of fodder to feed the cycle. One friend told me she really liked a recent post because of its honesty. It said exactly what I was thinking at the time, but it followed 25 that were exactly the same but lesser.

I got an e-mail this morning, and I got angry. I responded, there was a response, and I responded again. I've been trying to talk with Annie for so long after some initial contact in the days following the break up, that I don't even know what I wanted to say. So today I said goodbye, and that I didn't want to bother her anymore. I sent her a long e-mail. I tried to say everything I've been wanting to say to her in a dialogue, but in monologue format. I hope I got it all out there. It was the honesty I was searching for in these blogs, but it felt better here. She said thanks, and reiterated that in time we'd be able to get our friendship back. And while I'd love for it to be more, and I told her so, that's the most important thing for me.

No more tags with Annie, heart break, or the like. I have to try and move on, and constantly talking about the same thing day in and day out isn't helping anything. Rest assured, it's on my mind. Not a day goes by that it isn't front and center. I spend the quiet moments wondering if only I had done this, or that, or... And it's a terrible feeling. To think, if only the many small adjustments I made in the few days following the breakdown would have been enough. If I had had the balls enough to try a little harder without saying, "I'm trying, but I may not be able to do it." The pessimist in me shoots down everything. I'm trying not to look at things as shit, or something that could turn to shit, before I even try it. I'm trying a lot of things, many of which she tried to get me to do while we were together. It's not that I didn't try, but I never went 100%. And now, it all seems so easy. Why didn't I make these calibrations? How different would things be if I did?

The thing that upsets me most, when I think these sad thoughts in the quiet moments, is that I'm not sure I ever showed her how much I appreciated her. I tried to tell her, and I tried to show her, but I don't think it was ever enough. For everything she did, for everything she meant. She deserved better. I'm not saying that she deserves better than me (she does), but she deserves better than the me I gave her. And the kicker is, four weeks later, these little calibrations, I feel like I'm so much better equipped to give her that, but it's a day late and a dollar short. And it's not that she's moved on, and screw me, but she's moving on, and she's living her life.

I have to try and do the same thing. Take every day one day at a time, and make the most of it. I can't think about future things. I can't look at a calendar and say, "On this date, everything will be fine." It's like an alcoholic - one day, one step, one choice at a time. I want to get to a point where we're good again. And if the only way to do that is apart, so be it. Her happiness right now means more to me than my own. Go ahead, cry that single tear. I'm selfless that way. Maybe that doesn't show enough value for myself, but right now I'd rather worry for her than me, because I know with isolation and escapism, I'll eventually be okay.

There was an odd moment tonight. We went to Ma'Kai to celebrate Blond and Sarah moving to LA. While I could trace the genesis of my relationship with Annie to a number of spots (two restaurants in which I accused her of liking me with the aid of alcohol, a garage, the spot of our first official date), there was one place where it became real. Yes, for those who can still remember the first sentence of this paragraph, that would be Ma'Kai, where we shared our first kiss, a week before our first date. On the drive over, I was thinking about how the west side has so many memories of us, and the things we did. I got sad. Even as I entered Ma'Kai, knowing she wouldn't be there with us, I got sad. I looked at the spot where it happened. I got sadder still. But at some point during the night, I turned and looked again. And I smiled. And while I had been thinking how sad all of these memories were for weeks now, I had an epiphany. These weren't sad memories. These were great ones, filled with happiness and love, and a few others that made those moments even sweeter. And while it hurts to think I might not be making any new ones along the same lines, I've got the old ones. And I wouldn't trade them. Not for anything.

So the point is, I'm going to try and push this thing in a new direction. I'm not saying I'm going to get happy and upbeat, because while that may have lasted for 468, there was a damn good reason it did. But I'm going to not try and pawn off my depression about this on the rest of the world. I've written enough, and I've said my peace to her. I've talked to enough of who I believe are the right people in my life to have gotten the right kind of advice (thanks everyone who helped). I'm ready to let her go, and give myself a shot to really do it. It's still not what I want, but it's what's needed. I can live with that.

So say goodbye to the emotionally crippled boy who lost his first love and never saw it coming. He'll still be here, typing these words and having trouble getting to sleep without his thoughts drifting to her, but it's not going to be something he talks about. I've said all I need to say, and I've said it to the person who needed to hear it. So now that everything's been said, let's find something new to say to everyone else.

Mega

2007-03-28T10:47:00.000-07:00

I really wanted to win the lottery last night.

My goal was to take the money, retire my parents, and pay myself a little more than what I'm salaried at now. Then I could lounge around all day, being a pessimistic jerk, and pretending to write. I would be independently wealthy, and an aspiring writer. And if I failed, I'd have a safety net. My parents would be set, so I could just move in with them.

I didn't match a single Mega Millions number. That's the third or fourth time in a row that's happened. I'm beginning to think quick picks are for suckers.

Yeah, I really wanted to win the lottery. The pessimist in me says I lost the lottery. But I don't think you can call it losing unless you're the guy responsible for paying the winner his $60,000,000.

I hate carrots

2007-03-27T20:29:00.000-07:00

I do. Really. That's why I fill a Ziploc sandwich bag to the brim and eat them whenever I buy the industrial sized baby carrots from Costco. Look at me hating them.

Also, Master P was at the office this morning. I don't even know if he made anyone say "Ugh," since I was in about a half hour late.

Paralysis

2007-03-27T11:13:00.000-07:00

You know that feeling you get when you're going through all the early stages? Some people call it butterflies. Others say there stomach is all whoo. I had that feeling for months on end. In fact it was never completely gone, no matter how comfortable I got with Annie. There were always moments where things were new and exciting and my stomach went all whoo.

Last night I was watching The Black Donnellys, which is getting less and less interesting by ten minute chunks. I was so bored that I grabbed my computer and brought it out to the living room. In between responding to work e-mails, I went on myspace and denied some porn site chicks from being my friends, then quickly got bored. So I went on facebook, and accidentally clicked on some pictures. Well, I clicked on the pictures on purpose, but I didn't know what would be in them until I was clicking through.

A few pictures in I was happy. I saw her smiling the way she used to. The way she used to smile that gave me the butterflies. As I got deeper, I saw a few more things. I didn't really know how to feel. But that feeling in my stomach came back; the fluttering. The problem was, before it was a feeling of joy. It was the feeling of new and exciting. It was the feeling of some of the happiest moments I can remember. But in this moment, it was the opposite. It was the feeling of jealousy and even abandonment.

The show ended, and I couldn't find anything to take my mind off of this feeling I couldn't shake. It was a feeling that made no sense, representing two distinct opposites, and culminating in me being utterly confused. I tried to find someone to talk to. I went online. The world was quiet. I scrolled through my phone book. No dice. I couldn't figure anything out. I moved to my bedroom, started my iTunes with (+44) and let it rip. I lay there, fidgeting back and forth, trying to get comfortable enough to not be uncomfortable. Finally, my mind spinning, I found myself on my back, staring straight up at the ceiling.

I was paralyzed. Mentally, physically, I couldn't move. I just sat there, Mark Hoppus quietly singing into my right ear, and I didn't know what to do. Eventually I fell asleep. I woke up several times in the middle of the night, unmoved, my stomach feeling the same. The only thing different was the band playing in my right ear.

Finally I woke up this morning. The last thing I remembered was a dream I had. I ran into Annie at the mall food court. She was sitting there, and I thought she waved when she saw me. I approached and was about to speak when she started talking to Lauren Deason, a girl I went to school with from Austin through Dunwoody. I haven't spoken more than six words to her since sixth grade, but somehow she was hanging out with my ex at the mall, and with eery timing. Annie gave me an odd look and started to say something about me to Lauren. Then she looked right at me while speaking to her and called me "greezy." I know, I'm probably one of few people I know who says the word greasy as greezy, but this is what happened in my dream. And I wasn't even pissed off though. I didn't call her a bitch or respond. It was in this moment that I think I became lucid, and all I wanted was to wake up. I hated the fact that she was being mean to me. That's not who we were, and it's not who we're going to be, regardless of whatever form our friendship takes going forward. I hated that she was being mean and sniping me, because it wasn't her. I wanted to wake up to a world where things skewed a little bit closer to normal.

Instead I woke up to the same world I had left a few hours earlier. I could move, and I could get out of bed, but my stomach still felt the same. The feeling subsided when I worked out, but as soon as I was done, it was back. If I can spend literally every second of every day being distracted, I know I can be fine in no time. Otherwise, I don't know how to shake this feeling.

Speaking of feelings, what's with the cyclical self-sabotaging nature of my coping mechanism? One day I'm okay (the entire weekend), and the next, I'm miserable, lying on the bed with confusion in my head and unable to move, listening to music I can't hear and thinking about things I don't understand. Why can't I get okay, keep moving forward, have the occasional I remember when... and then just plow forward? It's more frustrating when debilitating, but I don't want any more nights like last night.

The best part of all of this is that I keep finding a new thing to say, "The worst part of it is," or "The bitch of it is," about. Today it's that I missed out on that last night with her. I came home from New York, and I was jubilant. I had this really busy 5 days in New York, I was tired, missing her, and all I wanted to do was see her, then fall asleep with her in my arms. She robbed me of that. And maybe the worst part is that she broke up with me in bed. I was unpacking, and she laid down on the bed, asking me to join her. The one place I was looking forward to lying next to her, content, was the place where it all went bad. I lost that final moment of serenity. So I've been lying in this every night for 29 nights, and I'd kill to have that one lost night back, and 28 of what followed.

The worst part of all this is the question that popped into my head last night, lending to my paralytic state. When I talked to Church about the, "I want some things to change, but I don't want you to change for me," reasoning, he calmly replied that it meant that she didn't like the person I was. She wanted me to change, to be a different person. She respected me enough to understand that wasn't who I was, but it is what she wanted. So here's what I asked myself last night, over and over until I fell asleep. Did she ever really love me, or did she just love the me she thought I could become? The fact that I have to ask this question sucks. I know what this relationship felt like when we were happy. It's not a realistic question. It's unfair for me to even put it online, knowing she might read it or someone might mention it to her. But I could never explain my depression, or the way my brain works. And it kept putting this question in my head as I tried to fall asleep, butterflies in my stomach, pain in my heart. It's not that there's any truth in it. It's just the possibility that there might be that stings like a bitch.

I've still got this feeling in my stomach. It went away when I was in a meeting for a few hours today, but as I soon as I got back behind the computer monitor, it creeped on slow like a beat up car idling down the street toward some far off destination.

Best Weekend in a While

2007-03-26T00:44:00.000-07:00

Like the title says, this was a good one. One of the best weekends I've had in a long time.

I feel like I'm finally getting my shit together. A lot of the things I had been wanting/needing to do are finally done, I got to reconnect with an old friend who helped me see a few things I wasn't able to see on my own, and generally my disposition is sunnier than it's been since The Office started airing repeats.

I feel good. Maybe it's just because I worked out today. Or maybe it's that Costco's expansion of the rotisserie area preventing me from getting chicken didn't bother me at all. Maybe it's the drugs. Point is, I'm making strides in all the right directions right now.

I'm reading, my mind is on point, and I'm quickly training myself to think in new ways. In the last 11 days I've been slowly training myself to be a better person. I'm no longer just myself. I'm becoming my best self. If it sounds like I joined a cult, I didn't. I can promise you that I was pissed off for a good chunk of Friday night, I'm still lethargic most mornings, and I'm as ornery as ever. But there's this potential, and I can see it. Not just for me, but for things in general. I'm not walking around with blinders on, crying in my cornflakes and doing the woe is me bit.

Four weeks ago tomorrow I got dumped. Four days ago I still thought it was one of the worst things that could happen to me. And while meeting Annie may have been one of the best things that ever happened to me, it's not the best thing that's ever going to happen to me.

Tonight Was...

2007-03-22T02:20:00.000-07:00

Tonight was weird.

I've been having a bad week at work. Forget my freelance writing, my day gig has been frustrating. As in, punch the wall, kick a cat, run into the courtyard screaming, "FUCK!!!" frustrating. Chaz was tired of my stupid face looking angry, and I was tired of not being drunk. Thus, the idea of going to happy hour was born.

Cut to later in the day, happy hour is on, and Chaz, Phil, and I head up to the mall. When we get there, we're greeted by the company of Kari, Taysha, and Annie. Yes, that Annie. It was the first time I had seen her in over three weeks. The last time... didn't end well. And it was okay. I tried to be social enough that people couldn't see I was uncomfortable, but I'm not sure it happened. I'm also not sure she looked at me for more than two seconds, but that could be because I was doing the not looking thing as well. It felt awkward for me, even if it wasn't for anyone else.

I've been pushing the friends thing a little harder of late. She's been pushing the time thing. I understand both, but I still miss my friend. And it's not that we didn't talk tonight, but we didn't talk tonight. It was being around one another, and hanging out with our friends, but the seating arrangement was different, and the connection was different. There were no smiles, no asides, no conversations.

I miss her smile. I didn't forget that, but it's nice to be reminded that it wasn't all in my head. It's a nice smile, more than just teeth.

Don't worry, I'm working on it. With the aid of friends, family (thanks, Steph), and alcohol, I'm on my way. But just like she can't set a time frame for us being friends again, I can't set a time frame for being completely okay with this.

***
Oh, I almost forgot. I made a deal with Taysha that I can't be mean or give her a hard time for a whole month. All she did was eat one tiny piece of beet. I think I got hosed on this deal. All I'm saying is, watch out for 4/22.

Away Messages

2007-03-21T14:23:00.000-07:00

I can't remember the last time someone quoted me.

I don't really use AIM much, except now with my Adium for work I sign on. So I was talking to the lovely and talented Miss Sarah Cov today, and she quoted me.

"Well, you know me. I'm not one for the meaningless."

Take a Break They Tell Me

2007-03-19T20:58:00.000-07:00

The best part of my day is working an 11 hour day, after having worked long hours all weekend, and then having to do laundry.

Laundry, I'll best you yet...

***
I've seen that ad where this married couple gets a new washer and dryer and now the husband loves doing laundry, whereas he used to avoid it like the plague. I smell a rat.

Unhappy Endings

2007-03-17T01:37:00.000-07:00

I never knew what I was missing until I didn't have it anymore.

For the longest time things were the same. Then I had a last call to the day. I miss it. Some days more than others, but pretty much every day. It was the last thing on your mind when you went to sleep. It was the first thing on your mind when you woke up. It wasn't even real, just a feeling that things were good, and when you woke up, they'd still be the same.

Now I drive home alone, go to sleep alone. I miss that moment, which I didn't even have for years. It feels like something I lost, but I barely ever had it. I miss that feeling of completeness at the end of every day.

I'm moving on, but there's still some hurt when my mind wanders.

Yesterday's Best Conversation

2007-03-15T06:55:00.000-07:00

C: Tell him about the incident.

R: Nah, that's alright.

C: Tell him.

R: Well, I got kicked in the balls.

C: He got kicked in the balls by a woman.

R: And then I took the picture.

F: You know, I got kicked in the balls by a woman once. I called it divorce... And it lasted for six months.

R: You win.

Of course, what I should have said was... Do you have any pictures?

Scrubs S7 - A Definite Maybe

2007-03-14T20:05:00.000-07:00

Here's a link to an article that says with Braff and the hospital (yes, the location) already signed on for at least one more year, Scrubs looks certain to be renewed.

However, it might be on ABC instead of NBC... Click the link, and ignore the Law & Order stuff.

In other Scrubs news, it will be switching time slots with 30 Rock, coming back later than planned with new stuff and airing at 9:30 beginning May 19th.

The Perils of Myspace

2007-03-14T19:34:00.000-07:00

I've been stalking on myspace since the line went dead.

I'm completely gone, except for two mentions in the miscellaneous text. First I was out of the top friends. Even when it doubled in size, I was still gone. Then came the revised 'about me' which cut my one mention out like a cancer. My photos dwindled to one, and now none.

It's like I never existed.

I don't want her out of my life, just out of my heart. It's still too raw not to hurt.

Wishful Thinking aka Daydreaming

2007-03-14T00:55:00.000-07:00

There's been no communication in four and a half days.

I half hoped book club would create some reason for us to talk. Instead it's just turned me into a pathetic idiot who spent all night not getting any work done while holding out the possibility that there might be something good to come of tonight. A phone call, an e-mail, or (in my head) a visit on the way home. I wanted you to show up. Even if you didn't come in, or you yelled up to me from the locked front door and then left. I wanted to see you.

Instead I sat here all night, hope in my heart, truth in my head. This blog is my mouth piece, because you don't need to listen for me to be heard. These last two weeks, when I was sick, I really could have used my best friend. Instead we grew further apart because it was too hard to pick up the phone or type me a message.

I'd like to think that more of me has moved on. But everything from the dreams to the daydreams to my choice of music tells me otherwise. I am a sad and lonely mass of pathetic. Every time I think I'm okay, I'm reminded that I'm not.

I sigh a lot now.

Goals

2007-03-13T23:29:00.001-07:00

I want to be quotable.

I find myself endlessly fascinated by the power of stolen words.

Setback aka When I Dream, I Dream Well

2007-03-13T11:20:00.000-07:00

Most days I wake up and it hurts a little bit less. Every day the sting doesn't sting so much. Except for this morning and Saturday morning.

When I dream, I dream well. It's the kind of dream that's so vivid, you wake up and everything's a disappointment. I don't know how everything gets to be the way it is in the dreams, but in the moments I dream until the moment I wake up, it's real. Sometimes it's better than real life, other times worse. But there's always a profound sense of being cheated when I wake up somewhere else, as someone else, in a different reality.

Saturday morning I woke up with the strangest feeling. Annie had called me late and asked me to come over so we could talk. I went over to her place, and she decided to take me back. We fell asleep and when I woke up, the first thing she said to me was, "What about Jordan?" You know, my friend who stayed at my place over the weekend. It seemed out of character for me to just leave someone alone at my place and just take off, but whatever. And then it hit me. Not only was I dreaming, but this hadn't happened at all. I woke up on Saturday morning, alone in my bed, as single as I was before I hadn't gone over to her place.

The same thing happened when I woke up this morning. I had been dreaming. We were in some field and we were talking. Not the kind of field with flowers and daisies, but one of the overgrown sporting fields at Zaban or somewhere similar. At one point she told me that she loved me as she continued to walk, not facing me. I stopped her, turned her toward me, and asked sincerely, "Really?" She smiled and said yes. And I knew things would be okay. At least until I woke up, alone in my bed, as single as I was before she told me she loved me.

So generally I'm dealing with this, but those two dreams have sucked royally. Tali quotes the age old adage, "The only way to get over someone is to get under someone else." It's obvious from my dreams that I'm in no hurry to do the latter, but it would be nice if I could get a little closer without the setbacks to the former.

In other news, I've been writing some great pickup lines.

Robin Levin

2007-03-13T00:45:00.000-07:00

How confusing would it be if I dated a girl with that name? Damn you facebook for even making me realizing female me's exist.

Movies - Is this Work?

2007-03-13T00:14:00.000-07:00

Not sure where I'm supposed to file this post, as technically it could go on the workblog, but it's about something I aim to do (see movies) independent of my writing them. This is me the film fan fawning over future features.

So anyway, I don't watch movie trailers as much as I used to. Recently I've been able to catch up on a few, and so here are my highlights with quick commentary as to what I'm looking forward to seeing. I'm a bit behind on movies (300, Black Snake Moan, Reno 911: Miami) so I've just listed upcoming stuff here.

The Good:
First Snow - 3/23 - This one might need to be filed in the next section. Guy Pearce makes interesting choices, and this looks to be another one. The team behind it is an unproven one for me, but the trailer is solid and so is the hook.

The Lookout - 3/30 - This is Scott Frank's directorial debut, and with the familiar crime setting, shades of noir, and a hint of Memento, I'm all in. A favorable review in today's Variety doesn't hurt its standing either. The two leads are awesome as well.

Fracture - 4/20 - It will be better than Instinct, of that I can assure you. Gosling is my ace in the hole right now, and Hopkins is usually enjoyable. If the mindfuck of the central case pays off, and the love interest/boss isn't as superfluous as she seems in the trailer, this could be a good one.

Hot Fuzz - 4/20 - After watching the trailer, I'm a little surprised that this is being done the way it is. Instead of the Reno 'everyone is an idiot' route, they decided to make Simon Pegg the alpha dog of cops. Gotta tell you, it looks damn good. And past performance says we're going to laugh more than twice. At a minimum.

Snow Cake - 4/25 - Chances are I won't see this. It reminds me just a little of other movies such as Love Liza and some things I've written myself but with older characters. Alan Rickman is awesome though, and this played some festivals. I'm sure it's good, but it's likely too small to be anything but a rental 3 years from now.

Waitress - 4/27 - The nice thing is that despite similar themes, this is nothing like The Good Girl. This is smaller, more intimate, and earnest.

Knocked Up - 6/1 - If this isn't the best comedy of the first half of the year, I'll eat something that rhymes with my shorts. Judd Apatow brings it, and he's bringing half the cast of Undeclared with him. I've already pre-ordered my tickets. In fact, I'm in line now. Bring food. And blankets.

Talk to Me - 7/20 - Don Cheadle is in a movie. He has an afro and he says words. That's it.

The Wishful:
Reign Over Me - 3/23 - If there's a movie with more potential pitfalls in the execution right now, I can't think of it. I'm there for Don, but 9/11 sap or bad Sandler could scare me away.

Peaceful Warrior - 3/30 - No idea if this is any good, but it has all the potential in the world. And Nick Nolte is really making a go of it after having fallen very hard off a very fast-moving wagon.

In the Land of Women - 4/20 - Is it wrong that I really want this to be a solid movie? Most people saw Garden State and told me it was the kind of movie they always thought I would make. I gotta tell you, the initial set-up of this movie is pretty what I write every time out of the gate. Yes, that makes me boring, but can it be a boon for this movie? It's got the Kasdan connection, and Jake's got some skills. Also, the fact that it's written and directed by a man means that if I like it, I can still lay claim to my testicles.

Sunshine - 9/14 - Danny Boyle and Alex Garland team up again, this time to reignite the sun. No idea if this will be any good. At all. The trailer has me going, "Well, Cillian Murphy can narrate," but I don't have much to go on other than that. Big if movie, but my money says it's worth a watch.

The Bad:
Seriously, I'm not even going to get into this. You know what's bad. You know what's out there to turn a profit, not to attempt to be anything more than a ticket seller. Let your dollars do the talking and boycott shit. It's the only way to stop it.

Weekend Magic... (Magic... Magic...)

2007-03-12T00:45:00.000-07:00

What better way to take my mind off the erosion of my relationship than by having one of my oldest friends come to town for the weekend?

I've know Jordan since first grade. Other than a bunch of Jews, I haven't known anyone that long, and I certainly haven't kept in touch with them. Jordan and I have maintained a relationship lately because the west coast is rather far from Atlanta, so there aren't a lot of old friends popping in for a visit. But whenever he needs a break from the Vegas, Los Angeles is a short road trip away.

He had a free weekend, I was supposed to be writing, and so we decided to hang out. He came in on late Friday night and we got dinner at C & O, a haunt I had only taken the ladies. We ate in the Rat Pack Lounge and had some excellent meals, replete with Killer Garlic Rolls before we headed across town for some cheesecake action at a local LA haunt, The Cheesecake Factory. Not sure if you guys have heard of it, but they have at least 30 varieties of cheesecake. We ate, discussed the age and desired occupation of the waitress, and then called it a night. He had dutch apple streusel, and I chocolate peanut butter cookie dough. We talked for a little bit while I got him set up on the couch at my new apartment, then hit the sack.

A late morning later, and he was off to the Museum of TV & Radio and Venice Beach, while I would brave the perils of a flashing cursor and try to write something. He got everywhere he was going. I got frustrated, went to the office, got frustrated, came home and fell asleep listening to music by Say Anything.

When Jordan got back, he was kind enough to let me sleep in for a minute while I entertained him with episodes of The Office on my MacBook. But once the television was over, it was time for shined shoes and fancy suits. And, of course, a Viagra tie. We were headed to the most magical place in all the land. The Magic Kingdom.

Hold on. That's not right. We were headed to the Magic Castle... That's a horse of a different color. You see, Jordan is a magician. He's been doing magic for as long as I can remember, transitioning from simple magic tricks to complex illusions and mentalism. He currently works in and around Vegas, and alongside Jeff McBride, who is no slouch in the magic world. The thing about the Magic Castle is, you have to be a member to enter. Otherwise, you don't pass go without an invite from one. Luckily, Jordan is a member, so I was able to both get in, and save on parking.

We saw the magical stylings of Jonathan Pendragon, in his first show back since a freak arrow accident, and Jon Armstrong, whom a friend of Jordan's from Vegas knew, so we were able to hang out with him before his show. They were both in the Close Up Gallery, which only seats about 20 people. We also caught shows by Nathan Kranzo and Aye Jaye and co., as well as various whoevers in the downstairs bar area. The Castle was more crowded than usual, so we spent more time in line than anyone was expecting, but we had a great time anyhow.

The crown jewel of the night was of course the arrival of one of the biggest celebrities known to man, Mr. Mario Lopez. We were there when he walked in the door. We even saw a show in the same theater as him and his very attractive lady friend. It was breathtaking to be so close to A.C. Slater, and live to tell the tale. If only photography was allowed in the castle, I might have quite a souvenir to show you fine folks.

After all of the magic happened, Jordan and I split and went to Mel's. We were definitely the only people wearing suits, and we were among elite company not being stoned for our 1:30 am meal. I had an amazing waitress, who after I said, "Keep the water coming," replaced my tiny water glass with a man-sized one following my second serving. Apparently a trio of ladies at the table behind us were vibing on us, but my wing man and the only person facing them, Mr. Jordan Wright, failed to point this out to me until we were pulling away in the Maxima. As we were ready to turn on Sunset, three brunettes with legs for days crossed in front of the car. Only then does Jordan tell me they were staring the whole time, not just when we walked in. Thanks... But seriously, at 2am (or 3 depending on who had already changed their clocks), Mel's is the home to much ladies with attractive qualities. I know this because I was sober and still impressed.

Anyhow, a short ride later, which may or may not have involved an impromptu rendition of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air theme song, we were home. We walked in to discover that the time change had already magically taken place, and it was almost 4am by the time we got to sleep. I, of course, having only seen a few hours of magic during the evening, made Jordan show off his skills. He literally read my mind with one trick, which was good enough for me. It was magic... magic... magic...

When I woke up at 3pm today, Jordan was gone. It was just like magic... I knew where he went, since we had discussed it the day before, and he left a note to say thanks for the crash pad and good times, but still... I closed my eyes last night and he was here, and when I opened them... He was gone. If that's not magic, I don't know what is.

It was a good weekend. My writing getting screwed notwithstanding, I had fun, got my mind off of my biggest problem, and caught up with an old friend. I would have been happy with one, but throwing them all together, plus magic, means this is one for the books.

468

2007-03-09T15:53:00.000-08:00

468 days. 1 year, 3 months, and 11 days. Roughly 11, 232 hours. Or 673, 920 minutes. Hell, we can get to seconds. Around 40, 435, 200 of them. That's how long my relationship lasted.

It's easy to put that in singular tense because there are no others. 22.5 years, only one relationship. It's weird to think about what a small percentage of my life that is for it to have mattered so much. And just as quickly as it began, it ended in just a few minutes as well.

I had just come back from New York. Before the sickness, before the problems adjusting to Pacific time. I was smiling and happy to see her, and she was breaking up with me. I hadn't even unpacked my things. She came over, stepped on my heart, and left me to pick up the pieces.

To be fair, she wasn't malicious about it. She told me I had become her best friend, and that she loved me. She cried while it was happening, which eventually provoked the same response in me.

I spent the next however long until now dealing with being sick at the same time as I was supposed to be dealing with being heartbroken. Maybe I was sick about the heart ache. All I know is that I found something else (being sick) to throw my attention on, and for a few days it worked. Until, that is, when I realized there wasn't a good reason for us not to be together. Then I got annoying, asking questions that couldn't be answered and telling her I wasn't going anywhere. She couldn't answer and I couldn't understand. What a pair. It's probably a microcosm of our relationship, but I'm not far enough removed to judge much of anything right now.

Eventually I saw the answers weren't coming. Much as I wanted them... Much as I needed them. I wasn't going to get anything other than what I had all ready heard. It's not enough for me, but I suppose I have to be okay with it. So I apologized for being annoying, said goodbye, and hung it up. My relationship was over, and me saying it wasn't, saying I was willing to do whatever it took... None of that mattered.

468 days. That number doesn't appear to be going up. I can't just sit here and throw empty questions against the wall. It's time for me to move on. And maybe that starts with admitting that I failed. Maybe it starts with getting depressed and worrying about ending up old and alone again. I don't know what the future holds. Not how many days, not how many loves, not how many failures or successes. But I do know that it holds a tomorrow. Every tomorrow is a sunrise away. Just as the sun set on this relationship, so too will it on this misery. And maybe then I'll be a little bit closer to being whole again.

Bye, Annie. I hope you figure it all out.

Developing

2007-03-04T21:51:00.000-08:00

I have to say, this has been an interesting sickness. I've run the gamut in terms of symptoms, ailments, and whatever else happens to sick folk.

So while my nausea gave way to fever which gave way to sniffles to body pain to overall cold to sore throat to spitting up brown and red organisms to coughing uncontrollably, now my left ear is all sorts of stuffed up. I've tried everything from homemade vaporizer (me with a towel over my head breathing hot water) to trying to blow out my own eardrums, all the way to nasal spray and Sudafed, it's likely I've developed an ear infection.

So, at this point, I feel totally fine, I just can't stop these super violent coughs and my left ear feels like someone filled up part of my head with water. But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

It's been a really bad week, and I'm anxious to start the next one tomorrow by catching up on work, putting sickness behind me, and by keeping my personal problems buried in the personal drawer. Here's to tomorrow.

***
Ironically, I spent most of today in bed watching Day Break, which is essentially the story of a man just trying to get to tomorrow. It's a good show, and a damn shame ABC didn't keep it on the air. Luckily, the entire series is available for free online right now at dynamic.abc.go.com.

Wacky Day

2007-03-03T21:37:00.000-08:00

I woke up at 3am, hacking as usual. Amazingly, I had gotten almost 3 hours of undisturbed sleep prior to this with my elephant-sized wallet between me and the pillow top mattress. How any can fall asleep with clothes on is one thing, but with this thing digging into your ass cheek... I was amazed.

What was different about this wake up was the intense pressure in my ears and sinus cavity, and the fact that swallowing was now a chore not for the weak at heart. I took a Sudafed for the pressure and somehow managed to get back to sleep. I actually had my first semi-decent night of sleep since Monday.

I can't stand not being able to swallow. Like any porn star worth her weight in silicone, this is something I need to do. Think about how often you swallow. Maybe every 30 seconds? Once a minute? I don't know, but it's a lot. And imagine it feels like a tiny gnome is karate chopping you in the throat every time you do. He's tiny, but skilled. It hurts.

So my dad tells me to find an urgent care center and just get seen. Make sure I don't have strep throat or mono. Interestingly, I think my sister ended up with mono recently. I'm searching online because I can't find a phone book, and it's increasingly impossible to find who outside of ERs have Saturday hours, take walk-ons, etc. I exhausted a few avenues worth of people locally, then call my parents back.

Eventually my mom tells me about this place in Pocoima. I know, where the hell is that? It's next to Panorama City, but I only know this now. She's found a place that's built almost exclusively for the uninsured. Now I know what you're thinking. He's young, healthy, his parents are doctors... Of course he has insurance. I did. But now I don't. For about six months now. But earlier in the week I applied to Kaiser. Problem is, if you don't get an application in by the 20th, it takes an extra month or so. So instead of active soon, I have to wait until April 1. So me and the illegals are in the same boat as regards insurance.

Anyhow, she sends me the link to the website. Dr. Arani Medical Clinic. Just click through everything to see the awesome English grammar and spelling used throughout. Nothing instills confidence like a wordsmith doctor who charges $20/visit and works in Pocoima. They're open until 5, and other than my throat, I'm feeling pretty okay. Even my sinus pressure is gone, way after the Sudafed should have worn off.

Later I'm in my room watching Day Break on ABC.com, and I start coughing to beat the band. I'm really letting my throat have it, and I realize that for $20, I'd rather be safe than sorry. So I make the trek up to Pocoima, where people apparently forgot about putting addresses on buildings. I finally found the place, and went in a back door down a long hallway. It's the only suite open in the building, and there are several other people, all looking slightly burned out or beaten down, waiting in the waiting room. The receptionist gives me a quick speech that sounds as if that fairly lady from Scrooged went monotone and read the mission statement off of the Arani Clinic website.

I'm not sure their claim about fifteen minute waits is wholly accurate, but I left my watch at home (didn't want to give anyone the wrong impression that I might have health insurance) and I was drifting off in the waiting room. A nurse took me back, got some vitals, took my temperature with what I can only assume was a suction cup. Then I was taken back to an exam room to wait for the doctor.

In the exam room, there was a giant Claritin poster all in Spanish, and Dr. Arani's tip of the day:
1. You cannot tell if a person has HIV just by looking at them.
2. You must wear protection all the time. Some of the time does not work.
3. The only way to prevent STDs is not to have sex. If you must have sex, make sure you have sex with a partner who does not have any STDs and is not sleeping with anyone else.

I wondered if I should have tacked on with STDs to the end of #3.

The doctor entered and asked what was the problem. A quick look at my throat, a quick listen to my chest, and then some tapping on my forehead. "Do you have any strange pain when I do this?" I have no idea what this was supposed to accomplish, but I told him no. I reiterated that I wanted to make sure I didn't have strep, but he was all set. He informed me he would be prescribing Augmentin and Guafenesin for mild bronchitis, and that I should drink lots of tea and chicken noodle soup.

At check out I called my mom to ask if I needed these meds. She's a doctor, and she told me what I had would work just fine. Take that nearly free clinic! I payed my $20 fee for the whole visit (not a co-pay), left the clinic, and proceeded directly to get lost on the way back to the highway. The problem was that the directions on the site were loose. No mileage, no explanation that the road you exit on and turn right on isn't actually the road you think you're exiting on. After some time traveling in the wrong direction, I made a phone call and high-tailed it home after a visit to Ralph's for more chicken noodle soup. That Healthy Choice version was the worst thing I've ever eaten.

I think that's all the wacky. But if I come up with anything else, I'll be the first to know.

Frustration

2007-03-02T23:06:00.000-08:00

It's only been four days, and I hate it more and more each night.

I anger myself to sleep, when I can sleep at all. I'm still sick, of course, so my nights consist of more hacking than sleeping. Good news is, the mucus finally turned closer to white, so I think that means something is passing. But anyway, four days...

I'm just so frustrated because there's no timetable, no guide book, no road map. I'm just out here, flapping in the wind, missing so much of what I had just four days ago. I want it back. I want it back now, I want it back tomorrow, I want it back whenever I can get it back. Because this sucks.

This is scenarios in my head and anger over the whys and depression and four days ago I had none of it. This isn't what I wanted.

I really hate this.

Incompetent

2007-02-28T21:51:00.000-08:00

I worked up the body heat and the desire to go to the store for tea and soup. When I was leaving, it occurred to me that we might not have a can opener. A few minutes later I stopped off at the drug store to get a thermometer and a can opener.

I get home and try to open my soup. I can't get the can opener to work, only to create a tiny puncture and then go nowhere. This is what I get for relaying on the $1 model. To be fair, it was all they had. So I look in the drawers and what do I see? The exact same can opener owned by roommate. No shock there, but it didn't work either.

Now I'm sitting here, having eaten 2 hamantashen all day long, and I can't even open the food I bought.

I guess maybe it's just tea and honey for me tonight. The best part about that is, I don't drink tea...

Sickly

2007-02-27T23:04:00.000-08:00

I woke up feeling sick, and it just got worse.

I sat at my desk for an hour or so, pacing myself and trying not to vomit. My throat was sore and I couldn't eat. The trash can nestled comfortably to my left blocked my drawers, but it was the only way to keep from ruining what's generally a nice office. I had to put my head down a few times, and take some hard swallows. I hate being sick, which is why my body is nice enough to not let it happen too often.

Walking to work probably wasn't smart. By about noon, I began turning up the heat in my office. The chill air blew right through me, putting my bones on edge. The walk back was interminable, a half mike of small steps, shivers, and ice cold water in a small Styrofoam cup.

I'm not happy, I'm not healthy, I'm not wealthy or wise. If I could go back to six days ago, I don't know if it would change anything. Sometimes these things just happen. I just wish maybe I had seen the signs. I wish maybe there was something more I could of done.

I am a train without tracks.

Also, my back hurts.

What a Difference a Day Makes

2007-02-27T03:43:00.000-08:00

Things started out well enough for me on Monday.

Following an exhausting but generally successful and entertaining weekend, I woke up early with my alarm. No snooze involved. Somehow the phone had vibrated itself off the night stand and directly beneath the middle of my bed, but other than that, things began without a hitch.

We took a Suburban to JFK instead of a taxi, which was much more comfortable, and we got there in plenty of time. After breakfast I took care of some last minute business, and we boarded our plane, nothing left to look forward to but missing ladies and warmer weather. All in all not too shabby.

We got in, got picked up, and eventually I got back to my apartment. Then certain things transpired. I tried watching The Office and Scrubs, which I missed on Thursday due to "socializing," to try and cheer me up, and while I actually managed to laugh out loud at an early bit in the latter, it was no use. I went for a walk to try and clear my head. Up to Wilshire, over and up to Westwood Village, down to Pico and Westside Pavillion, then back to my place. Not sure how many miles, but more than I planned on doing. I even meandered so much that I reached the door at Cold Stone at 10:02, just 2 late to fatten myself up eating comfort food.

The end of the walk was unbearable. The crossing lights turned against me, and it just kept getting further away. In those last moments I wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. It's not that I love New York, as I could never live there, but here just didn't feel right. I wanted a change. I wanted something. More than that, I wanted to be home. My feet still aren't 100% recovered from standing on concrete all day long for four days.

In any event, things transpired, and I went for a long walk to clear my head. Then I passed out early and woke up just after 3. I wasn't sure what day it was or if I ever needed to wake up again. And what really confused me was the rain coming down outside my window, steady and loud. 4.5 hours ago I was coming home on foot. Now it's pouring (for LA anyhow). Technically these are two different days, but what a difference...

I feel like being listless. I'll be at work by 9am, if not earlier. Sometimes I really do still hate it here.

New York City

2007-02-21T20:41:00.000-08:00

I'm in New York on business.

The last time I was here was when I came to visit Fuad Faridi after he moved to Fairfield, Connecticut. I took an entire disposable camera roll in FAO Schwarz. It was an outdoor camera with no flash. None of my pictures came out.

I've learned a few things since then.

26:23

2007-01-30T18:35:00.000-08:00

That's what my phone said after hanging up with Comcast.

I moved. I wanted to cancel cable and leave the Internet at my old place. Oh, excuse me, Time Warner. They were happy to disconnect when I emphatically told them, "I don't need TV." They don't have to know I was lying. So I wanted to cancel one service and keep the other.

"There will be a $16.99 fee assessed to your account to have someone come out and filter the line and pick up the equipment." I'm not under contract, free to go as I please, and yet they want to charge me to stop something. Pay money, get less. I reasoned, I told them it sounded like their problem, and then I said, "Here's the deal. I'm not going to pay the fee. If I was delinquent on my account, you would just shut it off. I'm asking you to shut it off, and you're trying to squeeze me. I'm not gonna pay it. It's $17 worth of principle, and I'll fight it as long as I can. I'm not paying to get less." He kept repeating the company line, and then I busted out my self-The Office reference when I asked if this was addition by subtraction.

Anyhow, just know that you have to bitch and moan with these people. Don't take no for an answer. And the supervisor will always make you wait on hold. They're trying to smoke you out. Don't let them.

Boycott Comcast/Time Warner.

In other news, we have an appointment to get service at the new place with Time Warner at some point next week.

The Problem with Two Alarms

2007-01-24T23:47:00.002-08:00

I'm a medium sleeper. If you wake me when I'm in it deep, chances are I'll mumble something completely coherent but nonsensical and not remember it an hour later. Alarms wake me up, but I have no problem hitting the snooze and moving right back into the world of Mr. Sandman.

I'm also one of the lucky individuals who has come into possession of the Radio Shack Super Loud Alarm Clock. Before I found this item, I considered getting those light dimming or bed shaking alarm clocks. After I found it, I realized it was a moot point. This sucker has it's own built-in speaker just for the alarm. I've never seen anything this size for an alarm clock. Anyhow, it's awesome. Since I moved into my current apartment (not the impending new one), I've barely used this alarm. You see, I hate it. More than I've ever hated any other alarm. It's impossible to sleep through. It will wake you up. I also keep it across the room.

To make a boring story short, I set it to go off this morning. It went off. So did the the trusty standby, my cell phone alarm. And while it would be easy to say that between the two, I would definitely wake up, I learned something. If you have two very effective alarms set for roughly the same time, you're much more likely to snooze (and I'm talking hardcore snoozing here) than you are if you only have one. Because you're not likely to oversnooze both. One will have to wake you up.

This is a dangerous game we play with our alarms.

I Had a Good Weekend

2007-01-24T23:47:00.001-08:00

They don't always start off when you begin Friday evening by heading to the airport. But this one did.

On August 3rd or so, I got a call from Colleen. We've hung out a couple times since high school, but she usually goes to camp in the summers, so it's been a little while. Anyhow, she told me she was coming to LA for the night, and asked if she could crash at my place for a few hours on her way to Australia and New Zealand. Problem was, I was in Chicago. And drunk. It was very likely I was drunk and she was headed to Los Angeles. So the fates didn't align for this round, but fear not she told me. She'd be back for a night in January, and she'd need the same favor.

Cut to almost six months later. I get a post on my facebook wall (yes, I'm everywhere). The CW is back, and she's headed to LA in a couple. Or maybe the next day. My time frames are off and it's late. Anyhow, it's Friday night and I head to pick her up. Traffic is surprisingly not awful for a change. Still, driving at LAX once I get there is a lot like driving in Mexico. Which I've never been to, but I hear stories. Plus, I was strangely picking her up from departures, and I went to arrivals the first time around. Heading in the wrong direction and then pulling a major U-turn is always fun when someone is standing outside and waiting for you.

So I pick her up and we head over to Costco to get gas. I like to show people a good time, and I know all the right places. We met up with Annie and deliberated over where to eat. We flipped a coin to decide whether we would stay in or go out. The coin landed heads, meaning we would cook something at Annie's condo. She gave me a look that said, "we're going out," so I picked a number one through three corresponding to three different restaurants. 3 said Colleen, and away we went. A few street over and south to gr/eats. That chicken curry is damn good, and the paella is killer.

After that Colleen and I headed back to my place, where re reminisced. It's weird looking back on the way things were. You spend all that time thinking that high school and your friends from that time are so important. It's the be all and end all of your world, with only an eye toward college as some distant monolith in the future. I haven't had the opportunity to catch up with too many people. In Atlanta people usually want to get drunk or do some other sort of time-consuming activity. And people don't come out to LA, with the exception of Michelle sophomore year, and Jordan over the summer. I've been here 3.5 years, and I've only had three people come to see me. Never would have thought that would happen in high school. I thought somebody (Dave...) would come out. People always talk about how cool it would be to visit, and all this other stuff, but no one actually makes it out. It's less than 5 hours on a plane, and Airtran runs sales all the time.

We were interrupted at one point by a neighbor from the silent apartment next door, asking if they were talking too loudly. She was drunk, and just wanted to make sure they were being respectful. Never expected that. Soon after, we finished talking and I left my friend to freeze on the couch. Ladies schamdies, I've got a pillow top mattress, which I never thought I could have.

The next morning we woke up and went to Canter's. At some point in the middle of the night, a 6' 5" friend of Church's took residence on an air mattress, also in the living room. Anyway, from the restaurant, where neither of us bought Lox, I took her to the Wilshire Grand hotel. Did you know Los Angeles had a park with a decent looking late and paddle boats? Me either, but I found it on my way down. Consider that place marked for a date.

The shuttle was late picking her up from the hotel. How she found a shuttle service that picks you up at a hotel in Los Angeles and takes you to one from another chain in San Francisco, I have no idea. When they were five minutes late, she started calling. Turns out confirming a day before is no guarantee the driver won't not show and go along on his route. Luckily, no one polices the parking in front of the hotel where arriving guests and taxis pull up. I had offered to stay, so I was able to wait it out with her until the guy showed up almost half an hour late.

After that I spent the day running errands, which means I bought food. I don't buy much of anything else these days, and yet I manage to accumulate stuff. It's everywhere, and it's not edible. Sunday was a nice day of relaxing after a near spat. We watched football together, which was a nice change of pace for me and the girl who likes romantic comedies.

Let me wrap up yet another boring entry by saying that I had fun this weekend, saw an old friend, and spent time with my lady friend (LF, get it). All in all a good one. I have a lot more of those than I used to. And these blogs keep ending happier. Am I really this much happier, or am I compartmentalizing better? I'm thinking the former.

Dammit, I just did it again.

Snoozer

2007-01-22T07:56:00.000-08:00

65 minutes.

That's how long it takes for me to wake up, even with an alarm. Sure, I woke up before the first alarm. But only by 15 minutes or so. And sure, I set a second alarm when I hit snooze on the first. But over an hour later, that's when I grabbed glasses and sat up for the fist time.

It would be one thing if I was still going to bed after 2am every night. But I was asleep by 11:40 last night. I shouldn't be going to bed at a decent hour, getting a decent night's sleep, and then snoozing so that I get my recommended daily allowance of 8 hour sleep. It's not right.

I need to get out of bed now. I need to get to work. I have a lot to do that was supposed to be done last week. Such is the way of things.

Sometimes the Shrimp is Only Semi-Edible

2007-01-17T00:23:00.000-08:00

You're all set to eat your egg roll. She tells you it's better than the ones you had last time from the same place. These have shrimp in them. A whole shrimp. And, oh yeah, they might not be de-veined.

Long day today and likely another one tomorrow. I'm headed to the new apartment in the evening to sign the lease and probably drop off a deposit. That'll be fun. It will give me a chance to meet the new landlady, and if she's anything like how she sounded on the phone, she's leaps and bounds better than the last two. You know, between all the steps up this place is from the previous LA homes, I'm starting to understand why you have to pay a little bit more for quality in your apartment. I don't get why that price point starts so high, but I understand its value.

What's up with TV? Nothing promising in mid-season and spring replacements. Maybe they're just not airing yet, but no one is doing a good job telling me about it. At least ABC put their money and their mouths behind The Knights of Prosperity. I just didn't care when it actually came on. But everything else... It's a lame time waiting for all my shows to come back. I supposes I could be catching up on the geek shows I let fall by the wayside, but I'm busy trying to live and work, strangely in that order.

I have awesome pictures of Church looking stupid on my computer. Scripted is the best documentary that almost seems so well cut it's a mockumentary ever. Really, I need to get my SC short films up online. Solid gold for those who can't tell the difference between 24k and Pyrite. Or those that enjoy the films of Jan de Bont and Brett Ratner.

Gearing up for a big birthday bash this week. Just wish I could remember who it's for...

Can't remember if there was more I wanted to say. Things are good pretty much all around right now. Things are actually set for a while with the exception of my car and the specifics of the impending move. I'm happy, can't complain, and genuinely look forward to each successive day. I guess that's really all you can hope and ask for. I just wish I was sardonic and snarky like I used to be. Then this blog would really be fantastic.

I'm out of cottage cheese. I miss it, but only when it's curdles pass through my mind.

Recapo de Weekendo

2007-01-15T00:58:00.000-08:00

Nothing much happened.

I was supposed to write. Instead I punched someone and got knocked out. Then I killed zombies. The word smelled like cigarettes and I wore socks and sweatpants to sleep. It was still freezing.

At one point I opened the sliding glass door to the balcony and turned on the main fan unit. This lasted ten minutes before I started whimpering and screaming.

I threw some things away looking for something else. I didn't find it. I got some phone calls. I made less than that.

I'm going to work tomorrow even though it's a holiday. I hope the rest of the office shows. I might wear sweatpants. They're the only thing save the scalding hot streams of the shower that are keeping me warm.

I miss comfort and clean air. I found the Mattress King's card. My bed is covered by things I didn't throw away earlier. I wonder if I should sleep on the floor, and if the floor will smell like smoke.

My alarm goes off in less than 6 hours, and I'm not the writer I want to be.

I Must Have Forgotten

2007-01-09T20:37:00.000-08:00

I love cottage cheese.

I don't know how long it's been since I had it last. Damn shame I ate my last bananas today, or I could toss one in here with it. But seriously, no more cottage cheese droughts. This is damn good food I plan to snack on more. As an aside, I'm eating it now as an appetizer for my meal of leftover Thai and mini beef burritos.

When I bought the cottage cheese at Trader Joe's, the talkative man in front of me in line asked me if I liked their brand. I replied that I had never had it, but assumed it would be good. He agreed, and told me a story about how his mother had pulled a fast one on him as a child. Until he was older, he had a different definition of macaroni and cheese than the rest of us. It seems his mother would make the macaroni like normal, cooking the noodles, but when it came time to add cheese, she wouldn't opt for cheddar cheese. Instead she would add in cottage cheese and serve as normal. It sounds a little strange, but in theory and having just finished a bowl of cottage cheese, I think it must be yet another delicious way to make macaroni and cheese.

If that man spoke with a lisp or walked with a limp, I would have pegged him as a sex pervert. Instead he's just the nice man who told me stories of strange macaroni and cheese in the far off land of Berkeley.

What's the Word?

2007-01-07T21:58:00.000-08:00

The other day I bought lunch for Phil and myself at Coral Tree. While I was waiting to order, a tall man in a trendy jacket was getting upset at the employees while holding a coffee. As I was leaving the food court, I saw this same man sitting in a chair, holding his coffee and smoking a cigarette. He was blowing smoke up and away from him with a disdain that could only be called "cool." That's when it hit me. This man was a strange version of Bruce Campbell. That is, if you hated Bruce Campbell's stupid face and wished harm on him for the way he smoked. This was following my sightings of Scott Caan, Dave Annable, and tonight a girl I thought was Ruthie from 7th Heaven. I'm into the non A-list.

I've been playing a little bit of Madden 2004 this weekend. Yeah, I'm up to date. All the playoff ball and bowl games have gotten me in the mood. I think I'll buy Madden 2007. Maybe. Anyway, the '04 Falcons can't win a game. From insane interceptions cum fumbles cum opponent TDs to inexplicable 4th and inches ball spiking. I don't know how I do it, but I find new ways to lose. One more game tonight to see if I can turn it all around. Like the 2007 Falcons are hoping to do under newly announced head coach Bobby Petrino, formerly of Louisville fame.

Also, I think using a Wacom tablet and pen without a mouse for months on end at work has given me mild carpal tunnel. My hand either hurts, tingles, or some combination of the two at various points of the day.

I'm four chapters into Robert McKee's Story. So far he's taught me nothing, and I'm wondering if it gets better. Plenty of writers I respect have endorsed the book, but I'm wondering how many more have condemned it. Stephen Gaghan certainly has, and he's actually the reason I didn't get past page 43 the first time I tried to read it.

Annie and I went to see Children of Men. Let me first say that it's the third movie I've taken her too that she's gotten sick in. Not for the on-screen content, but for the extensive use of handheld camera. In any event, the movie is amazing. Flat out, the best thing I've seen all year. I was actually upset when the credits rolled and I discovered it was based on a book, as I was ready to give all the credit to Alfonso Cuarón. It's an amazing work of passion and visionary filmmaking. I don't know if it's flawed or not, because right now I can't think of any. This is what movies are made of. This is what movies should be.

And Miami Vice is the red headed stepchild of Hollywood. It's a movie better than most typically churned out Hollywood fare, but it's not a good movie. The talent is there, believe that, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired. There's no emotional resonance, and the story seldom comes full circle to give you any insight. It's not a thinking man's movie, but it leaves so much unexplained that you halfway expect it to be. There are two scenes where you see just how badass the leads are. But in 2 hours and 20 minutes, that's hardly enough. And the fact that the plot hinges on whether or not they're in too deep undercover that they might be going native... I never for once believe that, despite who's sticking it to whom. It just doesn't work. Michael Mann can and will do better. He's an action master, but the story and characters don't hold up. Hard to believe considering it's built on the ashes of a successful TV series.

Oh, I got the apartment. The kickass one super close to work. Rejoice. My roommate just walked in, so I should probably talk to him about our move out situation. Anyway, I've got somewhere to go that doesn't suck. I'm also not paying nearly as much as I could be, even though it's substantially more than what I'm paying now. I'm excited. Not about moving, but about being moved in and living somewhere much nicer than where I do now. And quieter. And not smelling like smoke. I swear you would have thought someone was standing in my living room holding a lit cigarette with how bad it was when I walked in after dinner tonight.

That's the word.

Lost and Found

2007-01-06T13:42:00.000-08:00

There was a time when I rarely logged in to blogger.com. I didn't need to. I had the awesome ability to blog directly from Word or to e-mail in my posts. The only time I actually logged in was to post pictures or when I was feeling lazy or something.

A few months back the e-mail option started bouncing. Not sure what happened and I never looked into it. And I'm not sure why I don't use Word anymore. But that's all beside the point. The point is...

One day more than 8 months ago I tried to blog. It was useless, but I was on campus at SC and between classes or finals or something I was between. The e-mail option wasn't working, or I wasn't done, or blogger itself was failing. It's been saved as a draft in my gmail for that entire time, and I'm sick of it. I present to you, the lost entry from The Definite Maybe, originally dated 04/27/06.

More Comparisons to Kevin Smith

We just screened (or is it aired?) the radio play a friend and I did for my audio class.

Surprise, surprise, someone said that for the first time she realized I sounded like Randall from 'Clerks'. Interestingly enough, he doesn't remember it but when I first met the guy I did the project with at the NCSA summer film program five years ago, he called me "The Next Kevin Smith" as I was leaving the campus. At the time I thought it was a good thing, and he (Smith) a good filmmaker, but years have wisened me.

Anyhow, my last day of classes ever is going rather swimmingly. Let's hope it keeps up for another five hours.

Hope you enjoyed it. I know I'm indifferent.

Moving

2007-01-04T22:39:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm not yet, but my car still is, so that's always good.

The other day I found out that I had not one, but two potential roommates. Whereas on Tuesday night I was looking at a single, suddenly the world opened up to me. On Wednesday I went to look at this really great place practically walking distance from work. The size, the quality, and the price are all right. Even so, I might not get the place. I have to be deemed the best possible roommate (I'd be taking over half the lease from one of the guys), so who really knows what will happen. I just compiled another list of links from Craig's list because one can never stop looking in LA. Stupid LA...

Once I get my apartment situation sorted out, I can begin to think about my car. I've been getting quotes from CarsDirect.com just to see what's offered. The dealers basically match the price on the site, and the site itself can get you a car too. When I figure out exactly how much I have to spend, I can stop shooting for the moon (who really needs leather, navigation, and smart key on a new car). Now that I just sunk $500 into my car, I'd like to think I could wait another six months or more and be able to put a few more Gs down on whatever I get. I think I've pretty much narrowed it down to a new Camry or a pre-owned Lexus.

Last night after checking out the apartment I went down to Annie's parents for dinner. It was a much smaller affair than when I normally head to Irvine, as it was just the immediate family (including her sister and the baby), not the 9,000 aunts, uncles, and cousins that normal make every dinner an event. It was quiter for one. I could feel imaginary eyes staring at my hands as I fumbled through dinner with my chop sticks. Oh, wait... Those were my eyes. I'm not bad with them, I just have some trouble with very large, very small, or overly slick things.

Tonight was dinner at Gyu-Kaku, which I had never been to before. Not bad at all. Although, the vegetable platter is apparently a big waste of money. Following that, we decided to indulge at Cold Stone. Despite the allure of a seasonal pumpkin ice cream, I went with the old stand-by, Cake Batter. I have yet to find a better ice cream.

I had a rough day. That was the reason we even went out to dinner in the first place. But my night ended amazingly with a nice dinner with the lady, and new episodes of Scrubs and The Office. I didn't realize they were back until a few minutes before they were on, so it was a welcome surprise. Both were good, although I feel like Scrubs may have lost a bit of its luster. I hate to say it, and I still really like it, but the love I feel for the show doesn't seem to be there for me right this minute. Still time to get better though. Last season needed a few episodes to warm up, and we're not that far in just yet.

Anyway, nothing to exciting just yet. I'm just settling into the new year and trying to figure out exactly the way things are all going to work out. New responsibilities, new quarters, new rides. But some things stay the same.

Broken Dreams

2007-01-03T11:44:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a dream. It seemed so real, but when I awoke, it was gone. Like it never even happened.

Then I got an e-mail from Annie asking if we won the lottery. We had played four quick picks for the MEGA Millions game, which was up to about $87 million on Monday night. And then the light went off. Holy Shit! You won, remember?!? And then I recalled what had happened. I had won the lottery. I remember it so clearly. Sitting there as they announced the winning numbers, and watching in disbelief as mine were called one after another. I remember thinking in my head how it felt right that I had wished for this to happen, and then it did. It felt right; justified even.

But then the rest of the dream flooded back into my brain. I had thought I had won the lottery, but I got so excited I didn't check the MEGA number. It spells the difference between Jackpot and scratch-off winner. The dream kept going, and dream logic sank in. I couldn't read the number on the ticket or the computer monitor. All I could read was that the prize was almost nothing if I didn't have that number. A few hundred bucks, the same as matching a few numbers with the MEGA, but missing out on the grand prize.

So I went online in the real world and checked the lotto numbers. I read each number aloud as I scanned all four lines on my ticket. Zip, zero, MEGA's stingy with dinero. I didn't match a single number. I had been so close, and yet... It was all a dream.

Ominous Beginnings

2007-01-01T10:20:00.000-08:00

They say all's well that ends well. Here's hoping the new year ends better than it began.

My night was going great. Good food, good friends, and good fun. We rang in the new year and everything was... good. Really good in fact.

We got home and got ready for bed. I lay in bed for a few minutes, an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I thought I was just full, so I went to the restroom to, um, evacuate my fullness. And so I did. Then I tried the whole sleeping tip again. I lay there, thinking all was well, and wondering why my stomach was suddenly feeling worse. There was a churning I couldn't shake in the pit of my stomach. So I evacuated again.

I came back in the room and my lovely girlfriend asked if I needed any Pepto Bismol? Maybe. "What does maybe mean?" she asked. I went searching sans glasses in the drawer under the sink, but came up with nothing. She helped me look at that point, and we quickly came to the conclusion that we didn't have any. Then, she did the improbable. At 2:30 in the morning, she offered to go to the store and pick up some medicine for me.

As she gathered her keys and put shoes on, I prepared my altar to the porcelain g-d. As I heard the front door close, I quickly pulled the bathroom door all the way shut. I felt it coming in, so I hovered above the bowl and I mimicked what should have been happening. Several aborted heaves later, part of the old year was brought to the future, 2006 merging with 2007. Again and again for about a minute or so. I felt better, but still not 100%. I decided to brush my teeth, because I knew someone special would be returning, and even if there wasn't to be any kissing, no one wants that taste hanging around. Then I waited, sitting on the closed toilet, the sink, and the floor for Annie to return.

And then my amazing girlfriend came home with the Pepto chewable tablets and helped calm my aching stomach. I got to sleep, freezing my ass off in the ever inexplicable Los Angeles winter, and sleeping for the umpteenth night in a row with my neck at a terrible angle. Annie has offered to get me a neck brace to sleep in since I've been in pain after I wake up each morning.

So 2006 ended really well. The opening minutes of 2007 started the same way. But 2 drinks, a stuffed lobster, mashed potatoes, steamed veggies, and an amazing brownie later, and we hit a little speed bump. I'm still on the road. The train is still on the tracks. Hell, Tech is beating West Virginia 14-7 right now. Anything is possible.

Happy New Year, and fight on Trojans.

2007 Begins

2007-01-01T01:23:00.000-08:00

Twice last week a lesbian in a Hyundai Tiburon stole my parking space at my apartment.

The police won't respond to my calls to ticket the vehicle because I don't have a local LA number.

I ate pork on X-Mas eve at Brian's mom's house in Long Beach.

Annie, Chaz, Taysha, and I went to the Oyster House for New Year's tonight. Phil's hand was heavy but fair as usual.

Here's to keeping resolutions. Here's to a bigger and better 2007.

Aimless

2006-12-14T02:37:00.000-08:00

Not sure why I'm still up.

I went to see The Holiday earlier with Annie. It was definitely a little cheese and a little estrogen-centric, but sometimes it's nice to buy into the fantasy. It's nice that they try to remind you of what a magical place Hollywood was and the way movies were. For two hours I took the ride, which is enough. Not great, but better than average is tiptoeing ever closer these days. Cameron Diaz has a wide mouth. I mean, seriously.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm a liar. I want to improve. I want to be a man of my word. But something about me refuses to change. Or maybe it's just really slow. If we want to believe in happy endings, let's just say I'm improving one tiny piece at a time.

Did some holiday planning tonight. Not sure any of it will live up to my expectations, but we'll see about that. I was considering going home for a few days since the office will be closed, but I decided I was going to stick around. She gets back on Christmas day, and then... Well, wouldn't you like to know.

So like I said, I'm not sure why I'm up. Nothing I did today couldn't have been done tomorrow during waking hours. And it's not like I haven't been tired for hours. Even if my download of Day Break were done, it's not like I'd be able to stay awake for it. FYI, Friday Night Lights and Day Break are the best new shows, followed closely by the flawed but always Sorkinerrific Studio 60.

Anyway, I was up, I blogged. Happy? As always, we'll try to do better going forward. Holidays always bring out the blogger, don't they? And considering I'm alone for a while starting this weekend, I've got to do something to occupy my time. Well, other than work.

And also FYI, I am now 5'1" and weigh 85 pounds. My figure is all the rage these days.

Right Now

2006-11-30T02:16:00.000-08:00

It's freezing in my apartment.
I didn't win the lottery.
I went to Costco.
I'm in love.
I work. A lot.

message from Dina

2006-11-27T17:54:00.000-08:00

Hi
I am single and I dont wish to be...my ideal companion is someone who is
active but also likes to relax and wind down when we want to be alone...I
can sit and cuddle up with someone and watch a movie or simplly read a good
book or get into deep conversation with the right person...
I enjoy going out with friends and like romantic dinners and evenings out
with that special someone...finding that special someone is always more
difficult than it seems.
I have some questions for you if you want to get to know me closer:
* Why are you interested in Russian lady?
* Would you like to correspond or to talk by phone?
* Have you ever been to Russia?
* What is important for you in relations and am I right for you?
* Are you interested in serious relations with Russian woman?
* Are you planning to visit Russia?
I will be waiting for your reply to
mailto:Dina@newbridegroom4russianladies.info
I'm not sure what else to write here...I could be boring you with all this
dribble...so I will cut it here for now...Maybe you will find it all just
too much and wished I had not replied to you..
I hope to hear from you.... Dina

This is Love

2006-11-20T10:47:00.000-08:00

From a google talk chat earlier:

drive safe sweetherat

not sweet rat....sweetHEART

She knows just what to say...

One Year Anniversary

2006-11-19T23:54:00.000-08:00

The 16th of November marked one year of dating for the lovely LF and I.

I've decided in honor of that occasion, and the fact that this is a few days late in coming, I will officially out the woman I love by name. It's Annie. For the few of you who know nothing about me, now you've got a name. The rest of you, carry on about your lives.

Anyhow, we celebrated Thursday in a very odd way. We went out for drinks at Harper's so Chaz's girlfriend could celebrate leaving her job. They've got an anniversary coming up too, but they're nowhere near as awesome as Annie and I. They never had secret two letter codenames for either of them. Anyhow, some people from both company's (ours and hers) met up and we had some drinks. Then we went off to do cute couple things together.

Problem was, we couldn't find the car. Not sure how long we walked around, but it felt like forever. Maybe 15-20 minutes. It was long enough to take the wind out of my sails, and make me very tired. We got into a little thing before eventually going out to eat at the spot of our first date (one booth off from the original...). It was tense for a second, but then things got all lovey dovey again.

Later she gave me presents - a new blue shirt and a kickass jacket that she thinks makes me look like Luke. I don't buy it, but it does look pretty good on me. Plus, it's warm but not heavy, so I can wear it around LA most days. Well, not when it's like today, where we're setting record highs in November...

So what did I get her? Well, that night, all I did was buy dinner. She didn't want me to, we argued, but eventually I got to pick up the whole tab myself. Men 1, Women -0. Anyhow, I didn't show up empty-handed. Nor will I be showing up to my grandma's house in Ohio for Thanksgiving empty-handed. I'm bringing Annie along, and she's really hoping that time moves quicker even when it's colder in Ohio. We're flying out just after midnight on Tuesday night and we don't come back until first thing Monday. She'll be fine though. She's already met the family, now she just needs to impress everyone when she's trapped in the house of my mother's youth. For almost a week straight. With no other Asian people in sight.

Sometimes folks, love will find a way. This is one of those times. I'm really looking forward to it. I've never brought a girl home, and these are the disastrous times that always inspire movies, but I'm staying positive. After all, we're in it together.

***
Friday was a fun day of work if work makes you want to hurt people. At night we (she and I) took Church out for a belated birthday dinner at Koji's. Shabu shabu is delicious, and I would do it more often if I were made of money. Great food, but the night ended early as everyone went separate ways. Church went to see Casino Royale (which he would return from after 2am and wake me up with his loud talking), Annie went home, and I went to my computer where I finalized a beat breakdown for the rest of my OGN.

***
Saturday saw me writing furiously while Ohio State knocked off Michigan, USC kept its title hopes alive, and the Hawks... Well, they just didn't have another overtime in them, losing to Miami in the extra period. I went over to Annie's where I made her dinner (frozen food!) and we watched Monster House. My second time, her first. Not sure if I did any writing there or not.

***
Sunday brings us up to date for the blogging. Woke up and wrote a few pages. Then went to Dim Sum at CBS Seafood with Annie's family. It's always about 20+ people, and this was no exception. My first real dim sum experience, and one I'm not looking to repeat any time soon. The food was good, don't get me wrong, but it was also heavy as hell in my stomach after.

After that I went home, got stuck on the same level of Red Dead Revolver I've been on for a while, and finished up my writing. I wrote a lot this weekend. For more (maybe...) info, check out the work blog. It was good though. I was getting worried that I would crap out and my guaranteed dates (the ones I set, not my editors) would disappear like the original ones did. No worries. In two weeks, another script. Some free time during Thanksgiving will hopefully ensure that, but for all I know I could be cramming 22 pages in after I get back from Columbus. It's all plotted out though, so it should go fairly easily.

Tonight I made ravioli and watched television while deleting myspace non-friends. I have nothing of substance to share with the world at this time. I've written a lot, and this is just more. Good day, and hopefully I'll see you all tomorrow.

Intruder!

2006-11-16T08:42:00.000-08:00

I just spent six minutes digging an eyelash out of the top of my right eye. The damn thing had been in there for over 9 hours, but I couldn't even see it last night. Someone should invect iTweezers, or an iVac.

Hey, I had to start blogging again at some point...

Positivity

2006-10-25T00:02:00.000-07:00

A girl I once knew once said it was the key to reality.

Lately it seems like the possibilities excite me, but not the actualities. Everything is a constant waiting game for the next big disappointment. I'm finding the flaws in everything. I just wish I could not be so underwhelmed by everything. Maybe it's just that I'm too critical. Maybe I'm just too jaded. There are plenty of things I enjoy, so it's not like I've become a dissociated nihilist, but it sure feels that way sometimes. I'm the guy constantly nonplussed by what impresses everyone else.

I'm not a snob, I guess I just never let myself lower my standards about anything. If it doesn't blow me away, chances are, I didn't enjoy. Well, it doesn't take an aphorist to tell you that there's hardly anything that does blow me away. Even The Departed was just a remake of a movie I had already seen, damn good as it was. I hear nothing but great things about an upcoming comic, I read it, and find myself saying, "Well, there were some good parts." It's like I have to defend things in my own head to bring them above the mediocre level.

I don't even know what I'm saying. It had been a while, as is the M.O. of late, and the second line of this entry came to me driving north on Fairfax. Maybe it's just frustrations at work I didn't even think about in an otherwise fine and dandy work day. Maybe it's just me getting antsy before my vacation (which will be a working one for reasons I'm not at liberty to discuss).
Some things are good. I'm sick again, for one. My girlfriend, she's sick too. I even let her spend the night here last night since she moved over the weekend and doesn't have a bed or anything set up. The experiment didn't end well when she woke up, grabbed her things, and left before 6am. I didn't go back to sleep either.

But as for the good things, we're in love... That's the one thing that doesn't underwhelm right now.

Half

2006-10-19T11:46:00.000-07:00

That's what I ate this morning.

Half of a bagel. Half of my intended breakfast. And on a related note, if one eats half of an everything bagel, does that mean you've been cheated out of, well, everything?

I was walking to the car, three bags hanging from me, two halves of a bagel on a paper towel, garden vegetable cream cheesed up. I unlock and open the front door, reach into the back and unlock the back door. I go to open the handle and somehow launch the top half of the bagel, cream cheese first into my car/window. This would be bad enough, but my car hasn't been washed (I think) since my first date with my girlfriend. We're celebrating our 1 year anniversary next month. There's no way in hell this bagel can be salvaged. I toss it at the mocking BMW across the alley, then drop my paper towel after using it to "clean" my car.

And this is how I start my day.

Remind me to have Church take a picture of the hole in the wall where the A/C unit used to be.

Worst Blogger Ever

2006-10-10T12:46:00.000-07:00

It takes, I don't know, 15 minutes to do these normally. I'm going to venture that that's even on the high side. It probably takes me five to ten minutes for the average blog, longer for the longer ones. Or the emotionally painful ones.

Anyhow, I've been remiss in updating. Here is my attempt in a stolen moment at work to jog my memory and fill you in on what's on my mind.

Today:
The alarm went off. The only problem was that it vibrated instead of screaming at me, and I woke up around 9 instead of 7:15. Fielded a bunch of e-mails and then hopped in the shower. Ate a frozen cookie dough Pop-Tart on the way in to work. As I got there, I threw everything over my shoulder grabbed my frozen Thai food (which will be eaten hot), and saw my Strawberry yogurt, the aperitif of my breakfast, crash onto the garage floor with a splut. Come to think of it, I think there's still some yogurt on my sandled foot.

The rest of the morning involved me doing marketing work, design, image wrangling, and very little editing. It's been frustrating to say the least. As I'm typing this, I'm engaged in a Google Talk chat with a certain blogger of some repute. You might know him as Chesterfest.

Monday:
It started out like any other morning. I had a swig of my girlfriend's lemon cleanse drink (sweet and spicy, whu???), no traffic on the way to work, and only about four e-mails in my inbox. It then proceeded to get screwy as nothing went right at work, closed door meetings occured while I watched Sunday's episode of The Wire over the span of several hours.

I made it home at a decent hour and convinced Church, suffering from sick, to go on a run with me. Curson to La Cienega. It's about 1.2 miles each way, so call it 2.5 since he was sick and it's the first exercise I've done in a couple months. I'm even thinking about running it again tonight, but we'll see. Wednesday is a definite. Consider today a definite maybe...

The third episode of Heroes was written by Jeph Loeb and confirmed one thing for me: The show isn't going to surprise anyone. The plotting is fairly standard and straightforward. The best parts for me were the randomly inserted girl at the bonfire who came out of nowhere, the fact that every teenager on television will at one time rape or be raped, and the how-can-it-be-this-emotionally-flat scene between Greg Grunberg's character and his wife. Also, does anyone else find it hilarious that the man whose thoughts he couldn't read is black? Does that mean black people have nothing going on up there? That's what I'm waiting for someone to read it as. If In-Sink-Erator can sue NBC when someone puts their own hand down the disposal and it gets mangled, Jesse or Al can surely jump on this one.

Finished off the night with Studio 60, still my frontrunner for best new show this year. I'm not watching much else (fell asleep on the semi-interesting Kidnapped pilot last week), but it's a bare field. What happened to originality? What happened to me getting excited? Brothers & Sisters is one of the best shows I'm watching, and I barely care about it or its characters.

I tried watching an episode of Battlestar S1, but I was too tired. It's going to take me forever to catch up and not have it spoiled.

Sunday:
This was a fun day. Woke up in Irvine, where I spent Saturday as well at LF's parents' house. I remember waking up several times, but not actually getting out of bed until I was good and slept in. We had brunch with the family, which consisted of Pho, although mine had different noodles so technically it's a different dish. I don't know.

We took LF's car, a mid-size sedan over to the Palazoo to pick up a TV stand she bought off of Craig's List. We almost took the van, but no, we measured and it would fit. Well, if there were no doors and we lived in a perfect world. We tried and tried, finally realizing there was no hope of fitting it anywhere without taking the legs off. Of course, it's Ikea, so no regular tools come into play. No simple screws, only hexagonal sockets... I ran home to my apartment while she waited in a hot parking garage with no cell signal. Church told me he had tools, but was sick and near-delirious when I actually got to the apartment. I grabbed the tool bag and a crazy screwdriver thing I have and headed back. We eventually took the legs off and shoved the thing in, shredding car parts as we went.

Back at her apartment, getting it out was no easier, and there was plenty more shredding. We finally got the thing into the apartment and both of us wanted to pass out. Except for the one of us who isn't me. She wanted to go to Barney's Burgers and treat ourselves since the day was kind of rough. I wanted to rest, but I agreed that we deserved to relax in front of curly fries.

On the way there, I managed to slam my week-old watch into a newspaper dispenser, putting two new dents in it. I wanted to cry. The day wouldn't end, nor would it get any easier. I didn't want to eat. But then, you know, curly fries showed up...

Topped the night off with ABC television and being very tired. Plus a leftover cookie from Saturday's trip to Mustard (a restaurant, mind you. I still hate the stuff). Mmmm...

***
I think that works for now. Consider yourself updated. Next time, tune in for words on The Deaparted and The Last Kiss, if I can still remember enough about the latter.

Strange Child

2006-10-04T15:42:00.000-07:00

Bubble wrap is my Pokemon. I think I get the allure now, after making this connection.

Floating

2006-09-27T08:45:00.000-07:00

I get a weekly e-mail from a couple of the studios about job openings. I always give them a look just in case they're searching for a 5'8" Jewish kid from Atlanta with a crumby beard and afro. They never are.

Today's listing caught me off-guard though, ranking one notch below fluffer in the awesome job title ranking: FLOATER.

It don't get no better than that...

My Late Night

2006-09-23T04:28:00.000-07:00

It's Friday, and you know what that means. Recluse time!

I left work around 6:15 or so and drove home. By somewhere in the early 7 range, I was passed out.

I woke up a few minutes after 10pm, followed by calls in rapid succession from my girlfriend and a drunken Church on his way home.

I had breakfast for dinner at 11pm. A few moments later, some people I have no dealings with entered my house and drank wine before leaving.

At 1:14am I got a call that I answered quickly but still showed up as a missed call from my lady. At 2:40 we finally caught up with one another again on Gmail Talk.

At 4am I opened the bathroom door and inquired as to why Church was trying to beat up the walls.

At 4:27am I'm finishing this blog, turning on It's Always Sunny... and trying to sleep. We'll see how it goes.

In between all of this I read comics and watched television, but I suppose that doesn't make up for the fact that I'm not going to Rosh Hashana services tomorrow or Sunday. I'd like to be a better person and a better Jew, but in the end I'm still quite selfish.

Bladder

2006-09-21T03:28:00.000-07:00

I am constantly amazed by how much urine the human body can handle.

More real blogging at some point. I've seen a movie or two and done some stuff. You'll read eventually if I remember.

What kind of movie will WANTED be?

2006-09-15T13:11:00.000-07:00

Newsarama had an interview with James McAvoy, recently cast in the lead as Wesley Gibson.

This is my favorite part:

Timur is incredible. He’s an evil genius. So I am just putting my ass in his hands and hopefully he won’t bullocks it.

Locked In

2006-09-14T02:10:00.000-07:00

Today was okay. Solid day at work, and some progress late on my book.

Anyhow, it almost all went haywire. After stopping by Brian's to drop off some drugs and pick up some cash (in our world, that means DVDs and cash, respectively), I hit up the library to return the three books I rented a while back. I only read one, The Human Target, a Lew Archer Novel by Ross Macdonald. Great book by the way. It's a wonder so many people try to imitate the pulps and just come off as cheap spoofs. The good ones aren't as over the top as the remakes, and they're so much better. The cleverness, as pointed out by Church, comes from their lack of cynicism.

Anyhow, I returned the books and was perusing the DVD section when I got a call from LF (who I'm pretty sure can be named at this point, right Lauren Fitzsimmonsteinberg?). She wanted me to see if they had a particular book in. At that exact moment, I realized my pockets felt light, with a touch less jingle to them. I didn't have my keys. My mind whirled. Had I dropped them in the book return? In the parking lot? Worse still, had I locked them in the car? If it's the latter, the irony is always doubled because I have keyless entry, with a keypad, but it only pops the trunk and lowers the windows. Er, window at this point. Holy shit, I can't believe I didn't remember it lowered the window until right now.

I keep a spare in a hidden place somewhere in, under, or beside the vehicle, which I was pretty worried wasn't there. Well, it was and I got in no problem, but I can't believe I forgot about the damn windows. The hell is wrong with me? I went out to the car and found my keys sitting on the front seat, all the doors locked.

Eventually I went back inside, put holds on several books by Douglas Rushkoff and the one LF asked for. Then I met her at her place for early Christmas and Daphne's. Good food, good times, then back home where I passed out, and the work blog fills in the details.

Oh, my chocolate milk was delicious. Strangely, hours later, I'm thirsty again...

Magic?

2006-09-13T21:08:00.000-07:00

Here's a rather interesting clip from America's Got Talent. I've never seen the show, but based on this and the Hasslehoff factor, I can't see how anyone can miss it.

Nice clip, eh?

The Slumber of Tiny Giants

2006-09-13T02:24:00.000-07:00

Some nights you set out to do the impossible.

You come home, do your thing for a minute, make some dinner and finalize the plan. My plan was Nip/Tuck and then doing some work. Didn't work out that way. I think the snoozefest that was the second episode of Standoff did me in for the evening. I put it on as background noise and decided to check out the second issue of Gillen/McKelvie's fun magic/music comic, Phonogram. Well, by the time I was about 80% through the issue and realized that the hostage negotiators on crapfest 2006 were fucking with a disgruntled air traffic controller, played by the guy from some movies, Carnivale, and Lost, I was done for. I could not stay awake. I struggled through the last few pages, and not because I wasn't enjoying the book. I only partially blame the latter because it deals with magic, and as we all know, sometimes works of art/magic can be more real than reality, with powers to alter our world if done correctly. (Yes, we all know this.)

Anyway, I woke up for an LF phone call that I quickly gibbered through. I'm not sure I said a single intelligible thing, and I think at one point she took pity on my speech and allowed me to resume sleep. It must suck to call a confused sack of tired and not get a single word out of him when you've barely spoken all day. I mean, when I call my boyfriend, I expect him to chat me up for a minimum of three minutes...

Even in advance, I knew I was tired. I set an alarm so's I could wake up for the encore Nip/Tuck, but no dice. All I did was turn off the alarm and keep sleeping until a little after two when the gunk in my eyes and the sound of intruders in my apartment (actually my roommate and the guy that used to live in my room) woke me up. Two big glasses of water, an e-mail to the lady, and this later, all I want to do is go to sleep and not toss and turn for hours.

Here's to football.

***
On a sad note, it appears official that the Braves will not win their division for the first time in 14 years. It was an amazing streak that I was glad to be a part of (I played on the 1993-1999 Braves championship teams), and we're not likely to see another run like it. Well, maybe we'll start another one next year, but who knows. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of the Braves' lives.

Don't Call it a Comeback

2006-09-12T02:05:00.000-07:00

It would be easy for me to say, ignore the last few posts. Easier still to say, forget I said anything, and try to forget it myself.

The fact is, yesterday happened. I can't get around it, and I can't avoid it. But I'm not sure I'd really want to. Right now it's a blemish on an otherwise amazing relationship, but maybe it's the kind of thing that helps get you to the place where you need to be. And I'm hoping that's where we are now, or at least where we're headed.

At some point today I came to a decision. I didn't need a week, a month, or a year. I needed about a day to realize I wasn't thinking about things from the right angle. This wasn't some fly by night thing I did because it was fun. This is love. I'll be damned before I let my own insecurities stop me from trying. I don't know how it's going to turn out. But I think I've realized I'm okay with that.

This is something I want. And she was willing to give me a second chance to not be such an idiot. So there's that. She must be very forgiving.

Anyhow, things are back the way they were about 40 hours ago. It was a shitty day, and it made some things clear to me. I know what I want. I don't know if it will turn out that way, but I need to stop worrying about that a little less and living in the moment a little more.

Sorry for the false alarm. I don't think you'll need to worry about another one for a good long while.

(Sorry to all my loyal readers who might have expected a better post. I'm just not sure I have the words to waste on getting it perfect. I've got other things, like life, on my mind.)

Dreams on Hold

2006-09-11T07:30:00.000-07:00

Dreams about the past and the present. Work, school, and family all rolled into one. The transmogrification of wonder into fear. Resentment and unclosed flip phones. Del Taco and a lack of coherence.

I just want the small text to make sense. Our dreaming lives and our waking lives colliding in door slams.

Stated

2006-09-11T01:42:00.000-07:00

Finished watching Garden State.

I think that's just the fourth time, but it might actually be the fifth. I can't tell you how many people have gone, "I saw this movie and it reminded me of you." I'm not sure what parts, considering it isn't a jerk or overly sarcastic, but I get the whole Jewish guy from the East Coast bit.

It was supposed to cheer me up. It made me smile, even squeezed out half a chuckle here and there, but it's a tougher task than I think the movie is equipped to handle. I'm not sure what I need other than time, but I've been trying to find it by ever so slightly tweaking my MySpace and facebook profiles. The latter you can probably see everything I've done thanks to the new stalker feeds. The former is a little less drastic, but whatever.

I don't really want to go to work tomorrow. Sure, I've got an iTunes full of Emo, but I'm not really ready. I didn't have the great wallowing day I probably should have taken. I spent most of the day sitting here wondering what would take my mind off the situation. The situation, I should mention, that I created. More or less. It probably didn't help that LF and I started talking again via e-mail not hours after things went paused for a minute. It's a good thing, definitely, but it doesn't help in the taking your mind off category.

Anyhow, more TV than crappy FOX starts starting this week, with the majority kicking off the week after and in October. That will be something distracting if things continue on their current trajectory. Or I could continue immersing myself in work.

I wonder if I should have watched Ghostbusters instead. There's no connection to anything except the glory days of my youth with Paul, Josh, and Zach (who can be seen on myspace).

Time for sleep. I've got a book to kill tomorrow.

Broken

2006-09-10T18:14:00.000-07:00

That's me. That's us. Right now, it's everything.

I'm doing the best I can to take my mind off the situation. Of course, that's impossible. Or it would be if my roommate wasn't being annoying right now. But other than annoying bass coming through the walls, my thoughts are on one thing.

We got in a fight this morning. It's happened before, but it won't happen again. At least not for the foreseeable future. That's because today, for the first time in 299 days, I'm not a part of something greater than myself. The hope for a better tomorrow, the hope I had this morning when I woke up and every day for the last 299 days, is gone.

I broke up with my girlfriend.

That's really all you need to know, and all I'm comfortable sharing. I'm not happy about it. I'm not going to be okay for a while. And I hope she's doing better than I am, and I wish her all the happiness in the world.

I loved her. I do love her. I will continue to love her. I don't know how much time either of us need, but I hope that we'll be able to continue being friends. Before she became the woman I love, she was my friend. At some point she became one of my best friends. That's not something I look at lightly, and not something I'm willing to turn my back on.

I keep racking my brain trying to think of something that will cheer me up. Short of rewiring my brain to think differently and erasing today from the record books, I've got very little. I look at my movies, trying to find one that will fit the mood and not simply remind me of her and the times I've given up in the future. It should fall to pop music to bring me up, but I'm not sure if it's a Counting Crows or Death Cab mood, so all I've settled on is playing Apple Shampoo by Blink 182 once and watching football. The latter slightly ironic since it's partially to blame for what started us fighting earlier.

Today is a bad day. Yesterday was a really good one. I have no idea what tomorrow holds.

I wish I could explain to you how special this girl is, or what this relationship meant to me. I'm just not that good a writer. Trust me when I say that I'm forever changed because of who she is and what she means to me.

And that's all you need to know.

Standoff

2006-09-07T17:14:00.000-07:00

Since they scrapped the name Primary, the better name for this stinker would be Stand Back.

I know a guy who knows a guy whose name is Tim Story. Thus I like Tim Story because I hear he's friendly and personable and his handling of certain issues on set and off are what landed him the Fantastic Four helming gig. That was the number one movie in America its opening weekend, and even if it didn't last, that counts for something. Anyway, this guy, Tim Story, directed the pilot of Standoff based on Craig Silverstein's script. I couldn't believe how bad it was.

Church, who I made watch it, and I at one point started ridiculing the thing because it was the only way we could keep from turning it off. We kept doing the SNL/MadTV "On FOX!!!" voice because we couldn't help ourselves. The show was awful from the get-go, and the piss poor music and editing didn't help. Also, they made Ron Livingston look like the last person he wanted to be was Ron Livingston. Not to mention, as hooks go, there is none.

I read the script in advance. I didn't think it was hot fire. I heard they were doing it for $14-$16 million and I vomited. Twice. Honestly, I'm worried for TV when this is the best they can do. We'll always have comics I suppose.

I Don't Need You

2006-09-03T12:31:00.000-07:00

Blue October - Hate Me

Sing along here.

Lyrics Lost

2006-09-03T12:20:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to figure out the name of this artist song, but my memory this morning is failing me.

I heard it on when I was at Best Buy yesterday and then some dude in Hollywood had it blaring from a car last night. Something about "When I'm at war with myself, you try and stop the fight..." Problem is, that search keeps bringing up U2 and anti-Bush/war songs. Not exactly what I'm looking for.

I'm sure it's on the pop stations, but I think I've heard it on Ethel, so maybe only on the new rock channels. I don't know, but any help would be appreciated. I wish I could describe the singer, it's almost whispery, like he needs to clear his throat, but that's not wholly accurate because he isn't whispering.

L.O.L.

2006-08-30T03:22:00.002-07:00

The best part of today wasn't coming home and passing out for like four hours. No, it was definitely earlier.

A couple weeks ago I saw the cutest little old lady at the mall. She's about 4'4" tall, takes three inch steps, and is about 95 years old. Well, on the way back from getting food, I was telling Chaz this story. As we got closer to work, I was off making jokes about something stupid (he thinks I'm funny), when he goes, "Is that her?" I spin around to see a tiny Asian lady in a bonnet taking the world's smallest steps. "I thought it was her," he said. "I was thinking in my head that no one could be as short as you described, but then she matched the description perfectly..."

Made my day and his. I really do just want to pick her up and carry her wherever she's going.

Not Blind?

2006-08-29T08:37:00.000-07:00

I know I didn't sleep in my contacts.

When I went to put them in this morning, they weren't there. I blinked for a second and realized my vision was already clear. What manner of witchery is this? I thought. I guess sometimes you're just on autopilot when it's not quite 11am...

Weekend Wrap

2006-08-28T23:45:00.000-07:00

Really great weekend.

Got a little work done, had a little fun, ate way too many egg rolls. You know, the usual. The worst part of my weekend was the whole premature evacuation from the 405 North coming back from Irvine yesterday afternoon. Traffic slowed so I got off on Sepulveda and planned to take it north. Problem was, it was gridlock from the moment I got off the ramp. Something bad was going down.

After 20 minutes and less than two lights, it all became clear. A fire truck blocked two of three lanes on the road just in front of Fox Hills Mall. As three became two became one, we inched up the road. As I passed the fire truck I saw the commotion. A motorcycle had been run over by a sedan. No sign of an ambulance or the biker, except for a helmet over by where police were talking to a man and a woman. Really put a damper on my happy mood.

***
Tonight a spider tried to attack me. I can't find him now, but I'm worried he's going to follow me from living room to bedroom and bite the hell out of me. Like my landlady's dog. True story.

Best part of tonight, other than having the freedom to use this laptop in any room, was the Entourage finale from last night, which I incidentally watched on my computer, in the living room. I really thought they were going to cop out with the ending, but as it loomed closer, you knew there was only one way things could go, and that's how they did. Bravo on a season as strong or stronger than season 2. Not sure how the first was so weak, but this thing definitely hit its stride after the first season ended.

No comment on the Emmys. Scrubs and AD were snubbed, but at least they got nominated. I couldn't tell you who won half the awards even though I watched the whole show. 24, Mrs. Harris, and the like. Yeah, yeah... Other than a couple cool new shows like Daybreak, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, and nothing else I can think of, what's on tap for the fall season in the way of new TV? It's been about three or four good years of progressive television, and I'd hate to see them get stale like the movies.

Anf for those that don't believe in The Wire, Stephen King gives the fourth season his blessing in the back of the latest Entertainment Weekly. Take that.

Asleep in Irvine

2006-08-27T00:52:00.000-07:00

I really need to get my sleeping habits in check.

I fell asleep on top of a woman during Iron Chef America. Michelle would never let me get away this. Either part really.

The Makings of a Perfect Day

2006-08-26T10:29:00.000-07:00

I don't ask a lot.

I mean in terms of what the perfect day for me would be. Waking up when my alarm goes off, or even naturally when I was supposed to. No craziness with getting the hot water started, and my sink water wouldn't taste like metal. Breakfast would go off without a hitch--

Oh, wait. That's the problem already. I know I had a box of Cracklin' Oat Bran. Looked a lot like this:

Yeah, I ate from it twice. It was something I wanted to eat as part of my breakfast this morning. But, try as I might, I can't find this box anywhere. Where did it go? Why does it have to be $6 for the world's smallest box? What the hell, people?

I Hate Comcast

2006-08-25T09:48:00.000-07:00

You know the best part about having high-speed Internet? When they cut it off three times in less than a month.

Due to various snafus, my automatic payments suddenly started going to my old account #. They changed the numbers when I moved from metal town to Hollywood. Anyway, things got screwy and they cut me off back when I was in Chicago. We figured out that the payments were credited to my old account, so they were going to transfer it and turn me back on. Done.

Then Monday, when my phone is busy dying, they do it again. Of course, I can't actually call Comcast Billing from my phone. Because I have a 404 number (anyone trying to discern my digits, you only have 999,999 possibilities to go through...), I am automatically blocked from reaching my local Comcast Billing folks. The weird part is that I don't get put through to the Atlanta people. It just tells me to hang up and call 1-800-Comcast, the number I tried the first time. I had to cross the street through all this construction and call from a payphone in the middle of the summer. Tail end, bit me. While I'm doing this, my cell is beeping at me, warning me that it is soon to die. Then an artist from the Chicago show calls to remind me that he's outside the building, waiting for a tour of Top Cow. I have to hang up after getting put on hold for like 15 minutes and go back to the studio. Cut to an hour later, and I'm back on the phone. We get my service back on (although Church can't figure out how to properly reset the modem and router), and the guy sends an e-mail to Comcast Bank Services to get things sorted out.

This morning I wake up and my Internet is dead. I try calling, and again, cannot get through. I sneak into Church's room and steal his phone while he's asleep. I eventually talk to someone who informs me that there is no direct billing number, my account has been cancelled due to nonpayment (again), and that there is no second account number associated with my account. I call bullshit on everything. We go around and around and finally discover that while Billing to Banking Services to credit my account, they instead issued me a check for three months worth of bills and cancelled my service... I'm going to kill someone. She tells me there is no way to reach Banking Services. Not a phone, not an e-mail. There's a fax. I don't have a fax I tell her. Then I call customer service at this place insane. I tell her to turn the cable back on so I can pay online, and that I want to talk to a supervisor. I'm on hold for a while, getting pissed, and then the same lady informs me that she can't find a supervisor. She then asks me if I want to pay part of the bill, since she can only turn it back on for 24 hours. I tell her I'm not paying, because they charge you $1.99 to make payments over the phone. "Well, sir, if you pay by credit card I can wave the fee." You know what? Fuck it. I'll pay whatever. She starts asking me how much I want to pay right now. Whatever it takes to get it turned on, I'll pay it. Now I have to wait for this check and hope they're not lying. Assholes.

Stupid fucking customer no service. I couldn't even get a supervisor on the damn phone. How pathetic is that. And I can't even call during the day when a supervisor should be there because I'm not so sure I can reach anyone via phone. I shudder to think of the people who have cable, Internet, and phone lines with Comcast. The horror...

And the best part is, they're not even Comcast anymore. All this bullshit started after they apparently became TimeWarner Cable. Chuckleheads and a half.

#300 - Verification

2006-08-25T00:13:00.000-07:00

Yep, this post is all about one thing. Proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that my landlady is a worthless bitch who hates me for no good reason. I hate her for being useless, old, and foreign. She's probably one of those aliens that keep on ruining our great nation. Anyhow, I give to you pictographic evidence of just how dirty my A/C unit was when she told me I broke it...

Prelude to Embarassment

2006-08-24T21:43:00.000-07:00

Why is this image an omen of things to come?

Well, Jordan Wright, my close personal friend and all-around magiciany guy, pulled a rabbit out of his proverbial hat in the form of three very old photos. This one I'm not counting because it's only in the neighborhood of four plus years old. This is us outside of, I believe, the Georgia World Congress center. Anyhow, it's after high school graduation. We were both happy, but apparently I couldn't find the camera.

Once upon a time my name was Robby, and facial hair was the last thing on my mind. Stay tuned...

Gone Missing

2006-08-24T00:30:00.000-07:00

So where the hell have I been?

Getting a nose job apparently.

The answer to that is on the go and very busy. Last Friday I took the plunge and put my money where my mouth was headed. I walked from work to the Apple store and asked the first person I saw, “So, if I want to get a computer, do I just tell you?”

Knowing exactly what I wanted seemed to throw the poor guy. He was all ready to tell me how great having a new Mac would be, but I was already drinking that particular Kool-Aid. So I bought the MacBook 2.0 gigahertz Intel duo-core processor model. That’s a laptop. It’s also white, not the cool black one. I can’t seem to justify spending an extra $200 for 20gigs of hard drive space. Neither could Booch, so I feel safe in that decision. I left the store more than a grand and a half down, before I realized I just couldn’t walk away. I walked back in the store, right up to confused clerk and chastised him for forgetting to upsell me. I wanted the Apple Care protection plan, but he didn’t even mention it. One more thing I had to pay for tha day...
Apple was kind enough to offer rebates on both a printer (I’ve already got a laser, but this has a scanner) and an iPod, so I bought both. It’s a big step for me, having never owned any iteration of mp3 player to now being a total hipster with a 30gig video iPod. I love it so much I haven’t even taken it out of the box. I was sitting at work on Monday and wondering to myself, “What the hell happened to that iPod I bought?” I found it later that night.

Anyhow, Friday ended with a deficit in my wallet and some drama on the personal side. I won’t go into that, but I spent the night angrily setting up the computer. I was at work until very late, I think about 10, but I can’t be sure right now. I kept working on the computer once I got home until my eyes were blurry. The fact that my eyes get blurry by 10am should not indicate at what time I finally retired.

Saturday was a lot of reading, and more computer crap. It ended with a very serious discussion and a viewing of Don Roos’ Happy Endings. The movie was okay, the talk was better. Instead of New Wave influenced intertitles, it was frank, ugly, and necessary. Sometimes things derail just a little bit. It doesn’t mean anything is really wrong, but it does mean that if the car keeps going down that road, it’s going to eventually get lost. I really wanted to make some sort of analogy about a roller coaster car bending the actual metal of its track, but somehow car came out. Go figure. Anyhow, it was one of those warts and all conversations. I’m pretty sure I was scowling the whole time.

This is not me scowling...

Before I forget, earlier in the day I made the mistake of informing my landlady that my air conditioning unit was broken. She followed me to my apartment and started yelling. This immigrant had the gall to insult me, my mother’s child-rearing skills, and general decency. She told me I broke the air conditioner and that I would have to pay to fix it. It’s so dirty that it won’t work.

I was going to upload pics here, so play along... Yeah, I can see just what she means. The fact that we haven’t dusted in a few days really must have gummed up the works. Seriously, I hate this woman. And apparently, she also hates me for no reason.

Sunday was the day to end all days. Deuce deuce in the house. My birthday, August 20th. Began the day with LF and breakfast at Coral Tree Cafe. I had a Breakfast Burrito, she had the St. Tropez breakfast panini (the one with the chicken sausage). Delicious food, but the highlight had to be the little girl sitting at the table to our left. She’s going to town rubbing spreading a chunk of butter all over her syrupy pancakes with her bare hands, but then she turns it up a notch. She grabs bacon, throws it on the pancakes, and picks it all up with her hands. She starts eating this sticky, gooey, fatty concoction with her bare hands, pad of butter and all. Awesome.

My lady arranged for some friends and us to go to Castle Park in Sherman Oaks for mini golf. I love mini golf. Hardly ever do it, but I always have a good time. Well, I should say, when I play decently, I always have a good time. Nobody wants to be the guy shooting an 8 on every hole. It’s just sad when that happens. I ended up with a fancy schmancy hole in one on one hole, and defying physics when I had a ball leave the course later on. Still stayed par when I played from the rough. Ended with a 51, tops in my group and tied with Taysha from the other. I don’t know how that happened. I mean, she’s black, has a silent Y in her name, and is a woman. How did I not win? Doesn’t she know I play for keeps? This course was on the weak side compared to the place I went last time in Atlanta, but I had a really good time.

From there we adjourned to the Oyster House, home to Phil Smith, when he isn’t designing the hell out of trades. Good food, good drinks, and good friends. Plus the Jew in me will pipe up and remind you that I didn’t have to pay for anything. Well, I’ve got a good woman to thank for that. She picked up the tab for the whole table. After that she and I took off, dropped Church at home, and then promptly passed out prior to the clock striking 11. Don’t know what happened but we were beat.

Monday I began my entire week as acting EIC. If and when I get around to it, I’ll have some details on the work blog. Monday night was spent cleaning my room. Before that, I managed to leave my laptop at work and spend about fifteen minutes turning around and going back to get it. Who knew, I actually have a floor? It’s been a trying week, and I’m really doing a lot of work, and a lot of trying to stay just in front of the eight ball. No idea what happened yesterday, but I spent the better 90% of my evening gathering songs. I wanted to make a new mix CD for my girlfriend, mainly based on singles from Ethel (my XM radio station). I think it’s a pretty good CD, but I gave it to her tonight and she hasn’t listened yet. We’ll see.

Tonight was free Daphne’s (thanks birthday club) and Broken Flowers. The movie didn’t go over so well. We have differences of opinion/perspective on how to watch movies and the order in which information should be presented. Nothing too big, I just need to be more clear about where I’m coming from. I understand her perspective, it’s just so on the opposite end of mine. We’ll find a happy medium soon.

Anyhow, it’s half past midnight and I’m typing this in Pages (Apple’s version of Word) on my new computer. Six days in and I still love it. I just need a laptop bag and this will have been a great purchase.

Test

2006-08-19T11:17:00.000-07:00

This is a test of the emergency blogger widget system.

Had this been an actual blog your face would be tingling in all the wrong places.

Clarett is Mafia

2006-08-17T21:17:00.000-07:00

I told you before, Maurice Clarett, disgraced former Buckeyes RB and failed Denver Bronco, doesn't need to keep proving it. He's a gangsta. True dat.

Well, I was wrong. It turns out, not only is he hard, but he's bankrolled by the Jewish Mafia and possibly has a hit out on his life. I can't write this, but it's all detailed here.

There's a story in this somewhere... I should probably finally watch The Last Boy Scout to make sure it isn't the same thing. I know that's American Futbol and suicide, plus a Wayans, but it's nice to cover your bases.

Intermission

2006-08-17T18:02:00.000-07:00

Seriously, how hot is that mannequin?

Season premiere September 5th @ 10pm on FX.

Bothered in Baltimore

2006-08-11T13:07:00.000-07:00

Another day, yet another city.

Does it bother anyone else that airlines now refer to you as a customer instead of a passenger?

Randoms for the Morn

2006-08-10T10:21:00.000-07:00

1. Driving to work this morning, I paused at a stop sign just longer than usual. A woman walking her two dogs bent over and reached between the hind legs of the larger dog. Then it dawned on me. This woman is catching poop with her clear plastic glove on. I'm all for curbing your dog as I don't want my New Balances ruined, but I'd rather pick it up off the ground (preferably with a pooper scooper) than have someone shit directly into my hand.

2. The street sweepers, which I've seen less than half a dozen times since moving to L.A. have the steering wheel on the right side. British style. They're not exactly postal workers, so I'm not sure I get it, but I would love to turn some crazy limey loose on the streets of Los Angeles in one of those.

3. In my building there is a father/son dentist's office. Today I noticed another person's name on the door with the same last name. It would be normal, except it says Attorney at Law right beneath. Again, maybe this is just me, but I would never go to a dentist with a track record so bad he had to have a lawyer on staff. Nepotism be damned and all that.

4. The Iron Fist figure from the recent Marvel Legends assortment has a piece of the giant Apocalypse figure you can build by collecting the whole line. Explain to me why Iron FIST doesn't get one of Apocalypse's arms. I mean, a leg is just not a fitting body part for this man to be packaged with.

As you can plainly see, I'm trying to compensate for the havoc con season wreaked on this blog by filling it with pasty white fluff. Speaking of which, if that script is online, it's genius. Best man vs. inanimate food object two pager ever.

Liquid Warning

2006-08-10T07:04:00.000-07:00

They did it again!

How do people always manage to call me just two minutes before my alarm goes off. Don't they know I get up at 7? It's just two minutes... It' can't wait?

This morning twas my sister, warning me about increased security measures at the airport. She already missed her flight because of it, and now she's standby on a booked flight. Apparently something happened in London last night and now no liquids are allowed in carry-on bags. Not even toothpaste.

"What time's your flight?"
10.
"At night?"
Yeah.
"You might want to get to the airport around lunch time..."

I'm telling you, man... One thing after another.