grr, arg

hey kids...this page is a-movin', for reasons to be explained in its new home. if you got here by way of my profile, Storey's page, Transmission, or the film-guys forum, check there soon for updated links. if you got here in any other way and you want the new URL, drop me a line.

this is gonna be a long one

So I know I haven't properly updated in a long time. And a lot has happened this past week that I want to write down before it slips away. So here goes...

city of angels

I spent Friday evening hanging out on Third Street in Santa Monica. Yes, it's kind of cheesy and the crowd is at least half tourists and college students. But it reminds me of Harvard Square, so I love it. There are always tons of street performers at night, and it has a fantastic independent bookstore, Midnight Special, that I've been going to every time I've visited LA since I was about ten. I was debating whether to go see the Minus Five show or not, and I'd spent almost thirteen hours nonstop in the office, so I pretty much just wandered around in a haze and managed to get lost in a three-block area that I know very well. I kept thinking I saw people I knew, but I never did. It's like everyone in LA is an almost-doppelganger of someone I went to school with. But I always figure, if I was going to run into someone that I actually *did* go to school with or something, it would be on Third Street. So I keep on people-watching nonetheless.

On my way back to my car, I passed a doorway with two homeless people sleeping in it. On the trash can next to them, someone had placed a fresh orange and a plastic baggie with three bagels in it. It made me think that there really are angels in this city after all. Which is wonderful, but a little sad at the same time, because (and this is all because I just finished reading Philip Pullman's incredible His Dark Materials trilogy), I think of angels as not fully real, incapable of true human interaction.

Okay, that's enough for now...it's 6 am and I've been at work for over half an hour already. I need a nap before the day actually starts. But check back, cause the best is yet to come. *g*

there is literally no one in the world that I don't hate right now

Props if you get the reference.

Today started off badly when my contact was fuzzy the entire drive to work, got exponentially worse when I arrived at work, and hit rock bottom when a "friend" told me he wasn't up to dealing with me anymore.

I'm feeling furious and frustrated and lost and everything in between. I feel like I'm playing dodgeball against the whole world and everyone has an endless supply of balls. And now I just hate myself for that metaphor.

so turn on the sky, let it hear what you're saying

That particular Dar song always makes me think of fall, and walking through the trees in between the science quad and where Ford Hall used to be, and the leaves turning to gorgeous fiery colors, and the sun shining, and wanting to skip class or work or rehearsal and just walk to the river and follow it out to the harbor. I've been listening to it a lot lately, to remind myself that despite the unchanging weather, it's autumn now.

I can't talk too much about yesterday's anniversary. As much as I like to be detached about it, and as much as I genuinely loved and admired and respected what The Daily Show and The Onion did a year ago, the truth is that if I allow myself to fully think about that day, and not cut myself off halfway, I start to cry. There's a lot more I could say, but it's late and I want to be able to sleep tonight. Which is self-centered on the one hand, and yet on the other hand, presuming y'all really want to hear me talk about 9/11 is also kind of self-centered.


One the third hand (shut up), aren't online journals just inherently self-centered?

Anyway, now that we've established that I can't avoid making it all about me, this past week has been very conflicted. Between the High Holidays and September 11, I feel like this should be a much more solemn time than it's been. Yes, I spent my drive to work yesterday listening to Kevin and Bean's sound-bite-montage segments and crying my eyes out, and yes, I called my Nana because I was thinking of her, and yes, I spent a lot of my day wondering if I should move to Washington and try to do something more meaningful with my life, and yes, I realized I should go donate blood again. But I've also spent a lot of this week goofing off--talking to my friends when I'm supposed to be working, obsessively watching Friends, reading silly magazines.

Then again, even as I write this, I'm realizing that this past week was also filled with some intense, scary moments as well. So maybe it's been more balanced than I first thought.

Or maybe I'm just on crack. To be honest, my thinking (and quite obviously my writing as well) has been all muddled ever since I started thinking about 9/11 again. I think I need to go curl up with my teddy bear now and stop thinking about it all.

And to think, my goal in starting this, back in the day, was to help me develop my comedy writing skills. Way to go, me. (And Murray.)

all the little ants go marching

There are ants EVERYWHERE. It was one thing when they were just in the kitchen, invading the cereal every other day. But now they're in the bathroom, and in the bedroom, and in the computer room. I'm gonna have to cut this short just because it's hard to type and brush ants off my legs at the same time. :::shudder:::

Anyway, yes, I'm alive. It's been a really busy couple of weeks. I had a great weekend that began with breakfast with Daniel and included drinking beer with Korbi on Tobey Maguire's balcony, and ended with being an extra in the short we were PAing for. (I also got to make faces at Robert Downey, Jr., give gum to Amanda Peet, and talk to Tim Roth...but lest you think I've gone too Hollywood, the aforementioned breakfast was still my favorite part of the weekend.)

I went with QofMush to a fantastic Irish bar that had a great jukebox and Harp on tap and good fries and a very east coast atmosphere. I saw ActorBoy again, but after the ensuing weeks of never hearing from him (despite a retarded fax and even more retarded voicemail message), I think I've given up on that front. I saw him on TV yesterday, and instead of the usual feeling of surrealness, I was just like "stupid BOY" and changed channels.

I went to Disneyland with Mush and Mel. They convinced me that the SoCal annual passport would be a worthy investment. Which it is. If I go to either park more than once in the next year, it'll pay for itself and then some. But mostly it just leaves me with this constant temptation. Like, today, I don't really have plans, I'm burned out on the roommate search, and there are a lot of things I need to think about and sort through. So what better place to do that then on Space Mountain? *g* Mostly I just want to see the fireworks, though.

The roommate search. Ah, the roommate search. I don't want to say much now, because I'm afraid of jinxing it. But I found the perfect apartment on Friday. It's on the top edge of my price range, but it's by far the coolest place I've seen. Of course, if I end up living with other people, and they end up reading this page, I'll have to take this down. ;) So keep your fingers crossed that the roommates choose me, and then I won't have to tangle with the evils of blogger any more than necessary.

Okay, between the ants and...well, really, it's just the ants. But I've got to leave. Peace. (And l'shana tovah!)

Grrrr...blogger, are you working?

You know, I do have a domain name just sitting there...maybe it's time I coded my own damn blog.

on my way up north, up on the Ventura

So I have a lot to write, for once, but alas I'm up far too late and am way too tipsy to do so. I should have been asleep hours ago, but despite three and a half beers, my newfound insomnia remains in full force. So I'm sitting here, trying to download an unbroken copy of the new Tori song, and checking out the pretentious-yet-amusing super-secret Daniel-and-Afsheen project (no, it's not gay sex...that's not super-secret anymore, right guys? *g*)
I'm starting to get annoyed with this download. I'm guessing, given what I know about the Strange Little Girls CDs, that it's some sort of weird anti-piracy thing keeping me from hearing the whole song. Fuckerrecordlabels. Don't they realize that I need to hear the song before I can go to sleep?
I'm serious, sometimes I just *need* to hear a song. It's a very distinct, specific craving, and most of the time it'll drive me nuts if I can't find it or it's unreleased or what have you. Do any of y'all get this way, too? Or am I just crazy?

lazyhead and sleepybones

So I haven't updated the past couple of days because I haven't been doing a damn thing except work and sleep. The annoying thing is that nearly every night, I'm there for an extra half hour or hour doing nothing, just waiting for the Skipper to dismiss me. With my commute time being what it is, those hours really add up. At least I have the internet to distract me now, but still.

I always hate when journals are boring. And now I've done it myself. Something exciting needs to happen...

BOO!

There, did I scare you?

me + the internet = no love

So when I log on to blogger, the page says "Welcome, Ordinary!"

Aw, thanks, guys.

all in the family

Y'all, I'd like you to meet my friend Afsheen. He's always funny, almost always a great person to talk to, and occasionally makes me feel like a big psycho freak. Like tonight.
Anyway, just saw Bottle Rocket, which is a great movie. And it has my favorite shot of all time in it (when Luke Wilson is crawling up the ladder through the hole towards the end). So go watch Bottle Rocket. It's a lot more fun than listening to me bitch about Afsheen. ;)
Hey, if you want cranky, you're gonna get cranky, bucko.

(I really do love Afsheen. He's my favorite Atlanta Boy. But sometimes even one Atlanta Boy is just too much. *g*)