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Notes from Tampa

2007-01-28T03:34:00.000-08:00

It occurs to me that there are a lot of things that I proclaim to not understand. Why women where those ridiculous looking sweat suit outfits, why no corporate chain of eateries can actually COOK their own food instead of microwaving it, why the idea of sizes of items have been abolished for kitschy little, “love it, like it, gotta have it,” descriptions, etc. Like I said, a lot of things make no sense to me.

One thing you will never hear me proclaim lack of understanding for is the death of any my relationships. It’s pretty much the subject where I will wax poetically or practically about facts of the entire experience and how the writing was on the wall. Even my friendships never really erupt with some semblance of confusion and anger. They pretty much follow Kurt Cobain’s advice and fade away. This can be somewhat problematic.

Awhile back, I decided that I would put a moratorium on friends that really tended to drag me down. Lifelong, supportive people could stick around, but I would do little to befriend truly problematic associates ever again. The reasoning was that they tended to always make it my fault for why our friendship was strained. That I started to distance myself from them, cared very little for their problems but demanded time for my own narcissism, and rarely made time for them among my life. Also, I could be mean. Now, here’s the rub: this was all true. Still is. Awhile back, I became friends with a guy named Arun. He was the couch-surfing, alcoholic madman of college days past and was also always the smartest guy in the room regarding advice on silly problems. The facts were all he cared about and he would objectively lay down a law that you would be stupid not to obey. Sometimes I hear his voice when I offer similar advice. Regardless, Arun once asked me why I gave a shit about people that caused their own problems and demanded sympathy for their own mess. Why was it MY job to be that ever-present shoulder? I said, “that’s what friends do.” He laughed as if I’d just said the single most naïve statement ever. He never did provide an answer to his own question. He just said, “you’ll figure it out.” I did.

The fact is that friends are there for each other. When you need a ride to a doctor’s appointment, an ally after a break-up, or even just a quick monetary loan. Friends are supposed to be there when it counts. Enablers, on the other hand, are supposed to be there 24/7. Being a shoulder to cry on is being an enabler. Especially when these people who demand to know, “what you think they should do,” ignore you and follow their impulses and then demand you not tell them, “I told you so.” Enablers are supposed to be emo yes-men that give you sympathy without pity and a sense of companionship to wallow in. Friendship is about being there for someone. Enabling is about condoning lunacy. Einstein once said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.” Eventually, I’d like to not be right when I say, “don’t date your co-worker,” or “that girl sounds insane. Don’t sleep with her.” I’d like these people to come to me with happy endings instead of solemn expressions of “I should have known better.”

In the end, no one is right. I’m not some guru or genius. I’m rarely even all that bright myself with my own decisions. I screw up just as much as my contemporaries. I’ll freely admit this. I’m in no way the smartest guy in the room. Just the one that tends to be trying to burst a bubble I’ve been in before. I’m just passing on words handed down from my father, from Arun, the Law, Big Gabe, Will, whoever. No one can know all these people and no one could have received their advice when I’d almost made similar experiences and had them stop me. That’s all good advice is: you repeating the words of wiser people. You should always listen to the descenters. Another great quote, “if you’re dumb, surround yourself with smart people. If you’re smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you.”

Long time, old girl

2007-01-28T03:17:00.001-08:00

Let's talk about heartbreak, shall we?

The last year has been quite an experience all around. Degree, Career, New Apartment, New Friends, So On...

The one thing that hasn't changed is that empty inevitable feeling after the crushing blow of love lost. That never changes.

It's been awhile since I've posted. A really long while. In that mean time there've been a few lovers that have been worthy of mention and we'll touch on them here since the latest of them has left my apartment in tears after a notice of eviction from our arrangement by her.

First came Geek Queen. She was actually a really fun, smart, and truly amazing conversationalist. After many attempts at forming some sort of relationship of a sexual nature, we settled on friends as a better idea. The period to decide said arrangement was arduous for me because I genuinely thought her to be an amazing person at the time. In hindsight, I agree that what we have now is more beneficial and satasfiying to what the two of us need right now. Suffice to say, that at the time of dating her I thought her to be the most interesting person I'd encountered thus far.

The next contestant on this little game show was the Prodigy. I refer to her with all affection as someone who I genuinely hope takes care of herself but I can only see hardship in her path ahead. There was a drastic age difference between us but we still managed to find a way to talk about our fears and dreams with a sense of knowledge and charm. Sometimes I think our time together was her vacation from her self-destructive existence, but I'm a hopeless romantic, so who knows.

Last and most current is the Islander. This one I truly loved but never felt all that comfortable with. The most recent contact we've had is her teary eyes staring me down with pain and confusion as she attempted to articulate how no relationship would work for her in her current place in life. Suprisingely, I shed no tears and had no anger nor bitterness. I'd seen this coming from the moment we'd started officially dating and had acknowledged that this wasn't the usual negativity and pessimism, but rather me recognizing signs of the inevitable.

The common link between all three of these latest loves is their age group. All are at least five years my junior and all are in college while I've since graduated and put distance between the chrysalis period that those years define in one's life.

The Roommate pointed out that maybe my attraction to this type of girl lies in my own awkwardness with my current situation in life. While the job is still going well (promotion, office, raise, coworker friends, etc) and the apartment situation is great, my 26th birthday is fast approaching and I'm still no more comfortable in my own skin than I was on my 25th. Things have begun to slow down and consistency has started to settle in and the person I look at in the mirror is becoming more familiar, yet I still don't know who he really is.

Without that connection, it's understandable why no woman could make that connection as well.

I'm not in the least bit hurt or embittered towards Geek Queen, Prodigy, or Islander, but I wish that at least one of them had been close to the one. Here's to the ever continuing search...

One Month Later...

2006-09-16T20:41:00.000-07:00

So it's been a month since I've posted. Why? I write all fucking day long and for some reason writing about spas in Austin, Texas or revolutionary new concepts for coffee shops makes me apt to find something else to do at the end of the day that doesn't involve typing. Call me crazy...

What's in the news? I love my job. Not to the point of orgasm, but pretty close. I feel fulfilled at the end of the day that I've done good work and that I'll be working towards a career as opposed to a paycheck.

The new apartment rules, by the way. Don is an excellent roommate and an amazing cook. All in all, I'm sitting pretty and enjoying myself.

This is mostly a calming feeling associated with having had a very relaxing weekend of good food, good company, and good times whereupon I get to hang out with my friends and not worry about anything. I'm not broke, I'm not stressed, and I'm not unhappy.

Regardless, I'm pensive. I still stare off into nothingness trying to figure out the meaning of life and living.

The Moss job is working out. I still write for Sequart.com (believe it or not). I enjoy movies, concerts, and comics at a low low price of nothing and I have an ensemble of eclectic characters that I shall share here:

Jake: What can I say about Jake except that he's a pretty rad dude. An amazing photographer and an all around decent individual who is honest, loyal, an dependable. These are qualities that I think pretty much personify the term "dude" so I'm not just usually it casually.

Don: Roommate and renaissance man. Seriously, the man can do no wrong. Cook, musician, writer, painter... I hate him. He's just too cool. I will say his obsession with sarcastic puns and plays on words can drive me insane, but hey, he's funny when he does it. Plus, he makes dinner.

Christine: The infamous barista. She's just a godsend of a friend. Reliable, an active listener, wise beyond her years, and very very fun to hang out with. Plus, the complete lack of sexual tension makes it so nothing could ever fuck up this happily platonic male/female friendship.

Jen: I really dig this girl. She's honest, outspoken, and literally on her own plane of existence and not in an annoying way. She's just a very LIVING person.

Meredith: Seriously, a girl so cool, I think I accidentally made her up. An uber-hot, sarcastic, witty, and intelligent geek who is never, ever what you think she is. Always cool.

Alisha: Adorable is the only word that can describe this coworker of mine. Not only that, she's just very, very fun to be with and always tends to light up a room.

Alissa: Although I've known her for a year, she's become like a little sister in the last few months. Good soul, kind heart.

Justin: We were ok friends in school, but now that we've both had our fair share of bad times, he and I are on similar wavelengths of the absurdity of society.

Ashley: One of my friends from PSU who stuck around, she's smart, funny, and can knock a few back with the best of'm.

The usual band of brigands still bandy about: Will, Karl, Sanelle, Bentley, Meg, Kevin, and Jeff are still around and we all still hang out and catch up. The above are just the new blood and the people that I get to hang out with on a daily basis.

*New Chuck Klosterman book. I'm in heaven.

*I'm up to... 3 trades a week, so Sequart.com column should be well and regular from here on out. This brings us to...

*My writing for MossLive will be available at www.mosslive.com for consumption. My Pete Yorn coverage is up right now and coming soon, my Pennywise interview and concert report.

*New Sequart.com column is up! Finally!

*Only working one day a week at the video store: Thursday. It's just hard to throw it in during a long week of work. We'll see how long I can keep it up.

Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in awhile... Well...

First Week of Work

2006-08-19T17:16:00.000-07:00

Well, I have a real job. Weird.

For the record, I now work for a business plan writing company in Portland's burgeoning and affluent Pearl District. It's within walking distance of my current apartment and my new one as well. What do I do there? Well, I write sections of buisness plans for start-up companies. They're training me in all of the sections so that I can eventually edit a team of my own by the end of my ninety day initial run. It's actually a great job. I get paid to be a writer and the staff is full of really chill people.

The best part is that now I'm able to finally be financially independant and secure in my station in life. At least for the next year. It's a good feeling, althought it allows me to reflect on other things in my life that I've let slip to the wayside. We'll see what happens next.

The world keeps on spinning...

Where you been?

2006-08-14T01:41:00.000-07:00

Where have I been? Thinking. Thinking a great deal.

It's been awhile since I've updated the page of thoughts and quandaries and mostly, I've been just too busy to care. The other reason is that I've had so many things on my mind that I really felt that if I shared in this venue, I'd regret later. So, I've refined the thoughts a little. We'll see if it comes out right.

Look, I'm an insensitive dick. I know this. I'm tactless and a prick and I really just say what I feel when I feel it. Let's face it, as a friend of mine said today, "While you piss me off, at least I always know where you stand." It's true. I don't put up a front. I don't lie. I let you know what I think of you as much as I can.

In the past, I've offended and hurt a lot of people many different ways. I used to consider an ability to overanalyze people to their barest weaknesses as some sort of gift and I flaunted it. Recently, I've revised that ascertation to something that's more along the lines of futurism. I make assumptions based on limited evidence of behavior and I'm almost always wrong RIGHT NOW. Down the road, who knows. Most often, when I make some jerkish statement about someone's character, it comes true to a point. Not enough to say I was right, but enough to say I was close. I'm arrogant because of this. The question is, if this is a weird coping mechanism that I've developed to deal with people and uncomfortable situations or a symptom of something greater?

I've spent some time with some younger people recently. People in their late teens early twenties that were friends of friends. Watching them interact and have conflicts was interesting for me because I remember when my friends and I started to feel trapped by that situation. At some point sitting around reminiscing about a few years ago without making new memories or progressing at all will cause an environment rife with resentment. I wonder if these people will end up where I am today, deciding what's more healthy: the friends you've had forever who have trouble letting the past go or the friends of the present who know the person you are now and appreciate you for that.

It's a sick conflict. Do you resent the past because it never evaporates or do you embrace the present because it is the world where you exist? I heart thinkies, don't you?

Other updates:

*new job starts Monday. I think I'm going to be ok.

*I'm moving to NW 23rd. Another building my dad built. Neato.

*That last post? All resolved. Time heals all wounds.

*If you haven't rented Brick, Inside Man, or V for Vendetta then you apparently have greater things to do with your time... like cancer research or volunteering at homeless shelters. Glad to see you enjoy philanthropy.

This is me angry/hurt/upset/pissed

2006-06-27T14:37:00.000-07:00

As I post this, I am seething. Like, rage. I'm also extremely disappointed and sad. You think you know someone, you think you can trust them... and that all can go away with a sentence. In an instant, the depth of their character shows through and you see them for who they truly are. There's a quote somewhere about how people really only show their true colors. Not that everyone is selfish underneath, but that image they put out? It hides something. Maybe a sad, lonely person or a dark angery person, but someone vastly different than who they walk around as 24/7.

I was going to move into a house at one point this summer. Some people who I'd been associating with for the last few months and I had all talked about it and seemed not only a viable, but fun idea. Cheaper rent, great area, good people, so on.

That was not meant to be. As the dragging on of finding viable housing started to take its toll, one of the members of this enclave started to act... different. Moody, pissed off, vague, and distracted. It came out that I'd pissed him off somehow. Heh. This happens a lot. I'm just one of those guys. One of those people even. A long time ago, I had to make a concession that to be liked and to be true to myself could not occur at the same time. I am who I am. I don't try to offend, but hey, get mad at me? I'll apologize. Not enough? fuck it. I can't be perfect. No one can. I'll take the highest road possible, but that's all I can do.

I steeled myself to be able to talk to this person and take whatever I'd done wrong and be ready to sincerely offer up my humblests so that they'd let it go. Turns out, I really hadn't done ONE thing that'd pissed them off: He had a list.

Now that's just ridiculous. All this time, that person has been keeping track of EVERY action that I've done to get ammunition to get up in my face about what a, "bad person" I am. Apparently:

"I don't appreciate the way you treat women"

Seeing as how the majority of my friends are girls, that's kind of ridiculous. I've never cheated on a girlfriend, struck a girlfriend, or kept secrets from a girlfriend. Yeah, I'm a fuck up and yeah I've torpeded my fair share of relationships by being selfish, needy, and neurotic, but this is just out of left field for someone who has only known me for a few months.

"You're abrasive, loud, and obnoxious."

Have you never been to the video store? Seriously. Next.

"I don't trust that you're not going to try to steal my girlfriend."

Slightly sad and pathetic, right here. First of all, LOOK AT ME! I'm a semi-employed 7-year later college graduate of PSU who reads comics, watches movies, and gets his jollies debating the finer points of mainstream pop culture while being completely unable to hold his whiskey. You're right. Total threat. Right here.

"I'm guessing you get all of these characteristics from your father."

Note to all concerned: NEVER, EVER bring my family into it. I bitch about my parents and sibling constantly. I'm allowed. 25 years and counting of dealing with them. You are not unless you want all of your teeth to suddenly resemble the decorations on your christmas tree after you tripped and fell into it.

There's more, but it's not worth mentioning. It's just more insecure babble that pretty much states that they're a little person with big issues.

See, that's not why I'm upset though. Fuck that person. Remember? High ground.

What has totally broken me is that their significant other, someone who I had started to truly become great friends with, is now forced to no longer hang out with me to appease the other person. That's what I'm disappointed about. That's what makes me sad. You think you know where you stand, and in a flash... The people you lay your trust upon can show true colors. True weakness. True lack of character.

I'll regret this post in a few months. Hence the lack of names or sexes.

I just needed to get out the crappy feeling inside.

End of an Era

2006-06-17T02:30:00.000-07:00

We're winding down on the end of "Mikey's College Experience" within the next 8 hours or so. How does Ye Olde Slacker use these last valuable ticks of the clock? Watching bad action movies and blogging while enjoying the end of a Marathon Taverna induced buzz.

So to recap:

About 7 years ago, I graduated from West Linn High School and packed my bags for Linfield College intent on studying creative writing and doing very little involving my good old days. I really just wanted to move on from Jen, the HS drama, my folks and their insane situation, my sister's shadow... y'know. And what happened? I made good. Editor of this, program director of that, columnist here, DJ there... and like THAT it was gone thanks to my fears of success. Yeah, it's easy to say it was April or 9/11 or whatever, but chances are that the depression that started kicking in that junior year at Linfield was something that was due to just not being able to see anything through to the end. The same thing happened at OSU and almost happened at PSU. The closer I get to the prize, the more I'm afraid of it. I mean, what happens next? What do I do once I get a hold of a degree? What do I fucking do then?

Tomorrow they say my name and I walk across a stage and Lisa Deadly, Barista, Sanelle, Will, Kevin, Baker, my folks... They're all going to see me do it. Sunday, drinking will occur with the friends of the past and the friends of the present... Wow. S'just been a long time coming, I guess.

It's weird to think that I'll be graduating with friends from high school, watched by my friend from Davis, CA (OSU era) and my friends from Burnside (PSU era). If I could have gotten Karl to attend, the circle could have been complete. Alas, serendipity doesn't always bend to our wills.

Other tidbits...

I'll be posting on Sequart again soon. They're still eager for me to write for them (despite a month's absence due to final term mojo) and I'm thinking about making a portfolio of my samples to send to other websites.

I still rule the video store. Well, not really, but tonight especially saw me in my zone. Working with the Irish Rocker, Not-gay-Josh, Ali Cat, BTK, and (shudder) Carrot has never made me feel more like I have some of the best clerkin' skills at the old HW. A customer even came up Carrot and said, "Hey, I heard that this guy (me) is the guy that knows all about movies." Carrot begrudgingly replied, "Well, SOME people say that..." I don't know why the guy has to be such a tool. He must have a brain parasite that constantly screams pretentious drivel and awkward-silence causing randomness into his ear... Aw well. I always do better with a nemesis, anyway.

I hate job-hunting. I hate temp agencies. I hate time cards and tax forms and interviews and, "if we could hire you right now, we would..." I loathe all of it. Whatever gets me through the day...

I'll be posting grad pics as soon as Barista takes some tomorrow.

AGAIN! Party at the Bitter End on Sunday the 18th, 7pm. Attendees? Dennis, Pete, Will, Baker, Sloth, Kevin, K3hl, Karl, Jake, Rose, Barista, Sanelle, Lisa Deadly, Kevin, Rachelle, Burton, Jamie the Bartender... and my Dad.

Last but never least: I'm trying to get in on a house that would be a dream coup over in Ladd's Addition. I need a couple of roommates. Interested? Hit me up.

Short post during an all-nighter...

2006-06-13T03:59:00.000-07:00

We're winding down on the end of the collegiate experience for good ol' Mikey. Lord, how did we get here?

I'm typing this at 4am on a Red Bull and coffee binge. I have another paper and one more question on the take home final to go. For some reason, this gets harder the closer I get to the finish line. It's almost like I don't want it to end. When it does, all I'm left with is the degree and the memories (which have been great), but then what? Where to next? Job prospects seem to appear for me and then just as quickly evaporate. I'll get called out of the blue for an interview, kick ass at it, have some spotty communication with the HR rep... and then nothing. Suffice it to say, I can't keep up working at the video store. Night jobs are offcially NOT my thing anymore. I need my life back.

Right now, with news of my building going condo, the inevitable move has to commence... AGAIN. I hate moving. I hate packing, throwing out stuff I can't fit, folding clothes, cleaning floors, begging for help from friends and family, and then spending the hottest day of the year unloading it all into a new place with LOTS of stairs (always stairs... so many...) and having to reaquaint myself with a new home. There's this one quote in Garden State about home which I don't feel like citing here, but it basically states that home doesn't exist except in memory of the past. No matter how hard I try, the only home I've created is this city. That's why I stay here. It's my home. The whole damn place. From the comic book store to the Chinese restaurant, Sushiland and Powells, the video store and the Bitter End, Coffee House and Music Millenium... This is it. No matter how many times I bounce around from place to place, the city stays with me.

Jake, Christine, Sanelle, and a few others and I are trying to swing a 5 bedroom house in a really nice part of town. The price is perfect and would allow me to get a handle on my finances once again. Oh who am I kidding, I never have a handle on my finances...

Rats. I've killed enough time. Back to work...

Party at the Bitter End. Sunday June 18th, 6pm or so. We've sorta rented the bar. Come buy drinks for Kevin, Baker, Emily and me. We've earned it and the drunken thanks and hugs of love for all of the support that people have given us will make it all worth it. I'm going to try to get my dad to come. This time I'll actually know he's there when I'm drunk off of my ass.

Scooby Doo, Where Were You?

2006-06-06T14:38:00.002-07:00

Honestly, I really wanted to put off posting until I'd graduated/gotten a job/had actual news to report. The fact of the matter is that I don't think that's exactly wise. Mostly because this is sort of therapy for me and to avoid it might actually be a bad thing on El Braino. So, here we go:

*Sexual Assault and the Evil Myspace (not that one has much to do with the other) and the End of Relationships As We Know It:

Since January of this year, four girl friends of mine have been sexually assaulted in some manner. Whether by someone they thought was a close friend, a stranger, an awkward situation gone awry, or just plain rape, this is insanely disturbing. It is said that one in three women have been raped or sexually assaulted. That is even more insanely disturbing. How does this happen? How can men be THAT retarded as to think that "No" means, "Oh, ok, instead of just being nice, I'm going to throw you against the bed, pin you down, and fuck you until I'm done and then leave you as mess and go relax and watch Sports Center." What's even more insane is that I have more friends that have been straight-out raped than girls I hang with that haven't. None of these girls share anything in common. Manners of dress, beliefs systems, recreational activities, nada. They're completely different people and yet they've all got this ONE thing in common. Currently, a girl I met last summer has been posting on her blog about her experiences being raped and the supporters of her experience in dealing with it have dubbed her a "survivor." I'm not sure how to take that label. She didn't survive it, she endured it and is now dealing with it. I just can't the image of a Holocaust Survivor when someone uses that label. Those are survivors of the worst variety because they lived through literal Hell and came out alive. I'm not a woman and I've never been raped, but I would say that the label of "victim" isn't appropriate, but there needs to be a better label than "survivor." They're not surviving the experience, they're surviving the fallout. The inability to trust people, the recluse behavior, the fits of depression and emotional outburst, etc. I'm not one to hand out labels. Maybe someone has an idea. It just makes me sick that it's come to this; that men can't take "no" for an answer and feel the need to just fuck'm until they can ignore the tears. I'm well aware of the occasional misunderstanding, but I've seen my guy friends get too drunk to understand the No means No vibe. It's a disturbing conundrum to think that you could be interacting with three women in a day and one of them has been raped. What the fuck...

*Myspace.com cannot stay out of the news. This is mostly because Myspace.com is another babysitter for the nation's youth that has gotten out of their control due to lack of understanding. First it was television and how parents would just plop their kids down in front of a glowing box and go about their daily self-involved crap. Then, one day, they saw some news story about what was on TV that their kids were watching. Violent programming? Sex on sitcoms? WHAT WHAT WHAT? How dare they! Next up was the video game revolution. Seems harmless just letting kids play Pong and Mario Bros. all day, right? Not with those evil Mortal Kombat games around, no no. Ripping out spines and burning alive ninjas is not the Christian way! This must be dealt with as well! Now, we're in the Myspace.com era. Oh dear god, will the news ever end their long-running story. Guess what? They're are sexual predators, identity thieves and prostitutes running around seeking to harm your children and they're all on Myspace.com!!!! Ok, for a second, let's stop and think about this for a second: if people would just take better care of their relationship with their kids, there would not be this problem. Fundamentally, this is the issue. Parenting sucks 'cause it's so damn hard. Gotta actually talk to your kids, be interested in their life, not judge them on their mistakes and disappointing behavior, actually keep track of them, sheesh!

*So a couple of people I know who were very much in love and were engaged and due to tie the knot have broken up just last week. I have a hard time really believing in relationships all of a sudden. I mean, by no means was this couple the perfect couple, but they were so in love that the codependance issues seemed to almost be moot. I just wish I could have a concrete example of a decent couple with which to believe in. The problem with coming from a divorced family has always been that the model for your own marriage usually comes from your own parents and if anyone who reads this knows mine, that's probably not going to work so well. Just a random thought.

I hope to get back on the horse of posting soon. I just really want to be talking about the good things instead of the bad. I know there are some and by no means am I sitting around mopey and depressed, but I really need a change that I can get excited about. Here's hoping.

Science of Sleep

2006-05-04T15:25:00.000-07:00

Find your own pose!

Heartbreak and ham sandwiches

2006-05-02T15:29:00.000-07:00

I love alliteration. Can I just say that? Right off the bat? I <3 alliteration.

Since the last time I've written, I've been doing a great deal of soul searching. Events that were going on around me were dictating some intense sensitvity and since I'm one of the most insensitive people I know, it was required for me to get back to the drawing board of what I really feel.

What is the nature of love and companionship? Is there a difference between the two? In the end, what's the most important thing for us, as instruments of breeding and fucking and fucking shit up, meant to do when it comes to finding a parnter in the great drama?

Recently, I went out with a good friend of mine, and hashed it out with them about relationship issues. In fact, just singling out this incident would be silly. I've had this conversation with a great many people over the last few weeks since returning from the adventure that was NYC. Regardless, combining all of the data accrued from these dialogues leads me to one conclusion: The secret to MY happiness in love (I have no idea how to save the rest of you poor fuckers) is finding a person that compliments and challanges me without ever acting superior or naive. Sounds simple enough, but I don't think I'm even close to being able to accept that these qualities to exist in a person of the a fairer sex that is in my league. Again, don't come down on me for claiming that "leagues" exist and that there's no way to cross social barriars and let the geek get the girl or the introvert to find love. The idea of "leagues" exists in the mind of the protagonist, first and foremost. It's my responsibility to break down this boundary because I'm the one who doesn't have the confidence to deny its existence.

The problem with being on your own and watching your friends and loved ones get paired off is that you go through a process. It's actually a great process. You learn how to be by yourself and how to survive with people you care about at your side and how not to feel totally abandoned and alone. You begin to rely on yourself for sustainabilty and become just a little more true to your emotional nature and personality.

I don't enjoy dating all that much. I'm a guy, don't get me wrong, and I love to have a roll in the hay with a pretty girl just as much as the next hedonist. I like getting a flirtatious conversation going with a complete stranger and I always like getting a phone number at the end of a party. The thing is that dating sucks. If you're not doing it to find a soulmate (which is sort of like fishing while blindfolded) then you're doing it for sex (which is sort of like sticking your dick in a dozen beartraps praying one of them doesn't shut on you). Neither really appeals to me. I don't want to meet my next girlfriend through some set of pre-existing step by step instructions for happiness.

This all sounds very emo, I know (did you forget what this blog is called again?). I'm mostly just venting about recent epiphanies and ponderings. What really makes a great relationship? What really makes a good partner? What should we be doing differently?

To answer my own rhetorical questions:

Good relationships have honesty and communication. There is tension, but not a negative kind. There is intimacy and there is chemistry. There is a challange to always keep it alive. Dead relationships agknowledge that one of you is settling and one of you is bored. Love doesn't exist when it's just with one person and their fantasies.

Good partners are not static. They're always themselves and they're always being true. A good partner shouldn't question what they're doing from the eyes of their lover. They should never feel bad for enjoying something that makes them happy. If they're a crack fiend? You except them for being a crack fiend. They should only compromise in a confrontation, but should never compromise who they are. If you've ever said, "I love XXXX, but I wish they'd..." then A) you're a bad parnter, and B) they're not right for you no matter what you say.

We, as the single whiny masses of heartbroken bemoaners should be doing one thing and one thing only:

WORKING ON WHO WE ARE

If we're not ready to accept ourselves as comic book geeks and pot-smokers, sci-fi nerds and NASCAR fans, loudmouth jerks and super-sensitive introverts, then no one will ever be able to accept us.

I was out once with a group of people at a bar. There was a girl who I didn't know who had joined us. After a few drinks, roundtable discussions started about dating and finding people. She pointed out that if I wanted to find a girl I shouldn't go out in a super-hero t-shirt to do it. I replied to my friend that if she wanted to become a trophy wife then she should lose about ten pounds and get a tit job. The point here is that I go out in a t-shirt and jeans with the intention of having a good time with friends, not picking up chicks. I would never want to date anyone that couldn't accept me for who I am; no one could.

In the end, do whatever makes you happy and hope that someone will one day appreciate you because of those things and vice versa.

Where did all of this come from? Just had a lot of time to think, s'all.

I'm alive, I swear!

2006-04-16T17:21:00.000-07:00

Been busy. The state of the union is that I MUST focus on this semester in order to graduate on time and without incident.

Work at the video store progresses. I have returned to my city to find it just as I left it and slid right back into my life without being culture shocked from being in NYC. S'not like the place was Europe or anything, but there were moments when I was worried I might try to catch the subway to get to campus on time.

Just trying to get through the day.

Other news:

*Column should be up on www.sequart.com by tomorrow. Please comment. It makes me look good.

*Started hanging out with Justin from West Linn High School again. Of all the people I'd see wandering PSU campus, THIS guy. S'nice to hang out with him again. 6 years can change people.

*Still working on finding post-graduatation work. It goes slowly.

*I <3 Comics.

I <3 Steve Wacker

2006-04-01T13:41:00.000-08:00

So this trip would not be complete without a quintessential "Mike event" that I can talk to people about til they finally go, "Dude, you've told me this story, like, a million times!"

First, some back story:

"52" - A hugely ambitious comic book project by DC Comics (of Superman, Batman, et al) that attempts to tell a story of what happened in a missing year of their continuity through a weekly comic book. What's so ambitious about that? It's a weekly freakin' comic book! In this day and age of talent delays, where some books have 9 month gaps between issues, the idea of committing to a project like this is, probably, insane. DC, though, decided it was just insane enough for them. With four writers, a rotating team of artists, and central cast of no-name heroes, it's going to be quite the experiment. At the helm of this boat? An editor by the name of Steve Wacker. My new hero.

"NYC Kelly" - Yeah yeah, gimme shit about her being my dream woman or whatever. Regardless, I've had a great time hanging out with my sister's very good friend while I've been here. She's witty, charming, self-effacing, and uber-talented. Since this isn't a Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks movie, there were no magical revelations, but so far, we had fun being friends.

The Story Begins!

I'd read many articles about "52" over the last few months due to my obsessed and morbid interest in the probability of its success. Every time a bit of news dropped, Wacker was somewhere in the background, being painted as a silently stressed-out editor who may have bitten off more than he could chew taking on this assignment. Whether this was true or just being played for laughs, was trivial to me because when I'd briefly interned at Dark Horse, I'd been privy to how insane an editors life could get when working on a monthly book. I could only imagine what Wacker was going through. During a spate of momentary "Mikey has a wild idea" insanity, I called up NYC Kelly and had the following dialogue:

"We should bring Steve Wacker flowers"

"Who's Steve Wacker?"

"The editor for '52'."

"Ha! So we should send them?"

"Nope. Deliver them. To the offices. In person."

She couldn't resist. We worked out the specifics of where the offices were in relation to the subway routes and how to coordinate her meeting up with an out of town friend with doing this as well. Every few minutes of holding our freshly bought bouquet of lilies, she'd look at me like, "How are we going to do this again?" "Trust me." I'd nod.

The DC Comics offices are located in the heart of Manhattan at the 1700 Broadway building. They are under tight security because, essentially, it's a Time Warner building. People can't just wander up and pretend they're supposed to be there. Security is kinda intense for a comic book company. We walked into the lobby and up to the front desk and asked if we could get these flowers sent up. Since we weren't a florist or delivery service, the guard was pretty much not about it at all. He did say that if someone wanted come down from upstairs and get them, that'd be kosher.

I called 411 and talked to the receptionist at DC and told her I had a flower delivery for Steve Wacker, but someone would have to come down to accept it. She said we'd send someone in a few minutes and Kelly began to get pretty freaked out. What the hell were we going to say?

Harvey Freeman, Steve's associate editor, came down and introduced himself. We explained that we weren't with a florist or a newspaper or were insane (that took the most convincing), but that we were just two fans that had read about "52" and thought the guy deserved some booze. Since we were too cheap for booze, we got him flowers instead. Harvey thought it was a pretty funny story and asked if we wanted to present them to Steve ourselves. I professionally and calmly responded, "Hey, sure, if he's not too busy." Kelly, at this point had stopped talking.

Harvey took us up to the editorial offices and we proceeded to locate Steve. He was in the copy room making roughs of "52" and seemed pretty tired. Apparently we'd made it just in time. He was getting ready to go on vacation THAT day and would've been gone for the remainder of my trip. He was pretty impressed and thanked us then asked if we wanted to see the book. Kelly still couldn't talk.

Wacker led us to his office and quickly cleaned up some of the spoiler-worthy pages for "52" and his other books and then asked if we'd step outside for just one second while he took care of something. We complied and stepped into Harvey's office and completely geeked out on his collection of vintage DC posters and autographed Eartha Kitt photograph. Steve called us back into his office and introduced us to the man he was on the phone with: Mark Waid. Mark Waid was the former writer of "the Flash," my favorite DC character and wrote one of the seminal DC graphic novels, "Kingdom Come," and also helmed my favorite run on the "Fantastic Four" while he was at Marvel. Suffice it to say, now we were both speechless. Mark was completely friendly and amiable and one of the most genuinely nice creators I'd met since Geoff Johns. Steve let us listen in as the two confirmed which DC characters would be getting origin back-ups in the "52" comics. It was a rare treat. After the call, Steve asked us where we were from and what the heck we were doing here. Kelly explained she was a musician and I was forced into admitting I was a writer (she describes this moment as having to kick me into admitting it). The three of us talked for a few minutes and I asked if I could get a few pictures. Steve complied and then asked if we wanted and free stuff? He gave us each three graphic novels from DC and his card if we wanted to email him sometime.

1. I am SUCH a geek

2. BEST COMIC BOOK MEMORY EVER!

3. In the end, no matter what else happens, totally fulfilled by my visit to NYC and a great experience with NYC Kelly.

Dancing with myself

2006-03-30T22:29:00.000-08:00

New York has been pretty great, so far. Hanging with the sister is pretty fun. I've taken some great photos and I've discovered what REAL comic book shops are like (i.e. super megastores packed with interested people who have to form lines that queue they're so long). Tomorrow, I'm going to try to see the DC comic offices, the MOMA, and my sisters play (i <3 musical theater) and then see my grandparents this weekend.

I will say this, though: I had an experience that pretty much made me pretty confidant. I won't go into to too much detail, but it didn't involve a success of any kind of trivial nature. I didn't win money or get praise, or get laid. I didn't fail, either. I just had a series of events that made me stop and go, "y'know what? i really like who i've become. fuck anybody that has a problem with that." I'll work hard to show them my good sides, but if they don't like me, i'm not upset. if they don't want to date me, then i'll leave them to their opinion and still treat them with respect. if they don't want to hire me, then i'll take what i've learned from this experience and move on.

This is not a post written about anyone specific or to anyone specific. I didn't bomb my job interview or ask a girl out and get rejected or get in a fight with someone over something. I just... realized that I'm not a person who should obsess about what others think of me (ok, who out there wants to be the first to go, "dude, i've been fucking telling you that for years!") I like me. I like who I am and what I have to offer. Those that can't appreciate that choose not to and that has little to do with me unless I'm raping their grandmother and poisoning their dog at the time.

I'm Mike. Hollywood. Mikey. Jackass. He-of-the-Mighty-Man-Bag. Take your pick. If you choose to associate with me or date me or employ me, that's great. If not, I don't cry about it. I give a smirk, look away, and nod. Then... I walk off humming Billy Idol and move on to whatever comes next.

Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once awhile, you might miss it.

Have I told you the downside yet?

2006-03-22T14:13:00.001-08:00

Sometimes people tell me I'm a really cool guy and a great friend. Yeah me! These words of encouragement are always nice to hear because, hey, who doesn't love words of encouragement and ego stroking? Or stroking of any kind for that matter?

Last night, I sat on the fire escape over at Barista's apartment with her and talked about my feelings of inadequacy. This is actually a continuous topic of conversation between us mostly because she is very, VERY easy to talk to. She's not judgmental, she's very thoughtful and compassionate, and always an active listener. It reminded me of how Will and I used to talk, and seeing as how my being a tactless bastard earlier in the night had led me to seek out Barista for confessional time, irony was not lost.

Let's get one thing straight about me: I have a mouth that is not wired correctly with my brain. I have ALWAYS had a problem saying what's on my mind before thinking about it. It was so bad in high school, that I was nicknamed, "Tyrant of Tactlessness" and it was probably a well-deserved nickname. I can't really begin to analyze the origins of why this was. I guess, I've always thought that levity was always something that could make people more comfortable. Scratch that... Make ME more comfortable. I have no idea.

Later on, when things started to get ugly in my life and the people around me started to get ugly as well, a dark side of my personality started to respond in kind to any taunting in good fun from friends. I turned into an asshole instead of a jackass. On the one hand, I was sick and tired of taking shit from everyone all the time. I hated it. I wasn't in a good place and here were my friends making fun of me all the time because I wasn't as smart as them. At least, that's what it felt like. It dredged up years of dealing with that from when I was in grade school and never could respond. So, there I was and it was happening again, and I decided I wasn't going to fucking take it. So I didn't. This led to... trouble.

I'm the guy people always feel secure talking to. I'm the guy that offers up decent advice. I'm the guy that always seems to be around when you have your breakdown. I know about the dark secrets in practically everyone's closets. It's a crazy situation to be in when I'm a naturally defensive guy. I've been picked on forever and by everyone, yet still I'm given the keys to the missile silos of the stuff they don't talk about at parties. In some ways, it's a testament to how much they trust me. Which makes me wish I didn't feel so small and betrayed when I'm made fun of. It's just a reflex, I know, but it ends up making me feel bad about myself all over again.

So that brings us to last night. There I am, and Will and I have recently sorted out some of our differences of character, and what do I do? Make a slack-jawed comment that I regretted the moment it escaped my lips. It was one of those moments where you wish you could pull the words back inside because you know you were a moron for saying it.

Frankly, the asshole is no more. He left awhile ago. The tactless guy, though, he's still here. He's always trying to stop himself from being a jackass. He's constantly trying to think before he speaks. It's not easy. This isn't a random occurrence. Two weeks ago, I embarrassed a friend of mine at a breakfast spot. A week later, I did the same thing to a customer at the video store. Every so often, it just happens and when it happens around my friends, I feel doubly terrible.

I'm not the asshole who does it all in malice, but I'm still working on the absent-minded side. I guess, I'm apologizing in advance and reapologizing to those I might have hurt.

You can trust me. I'm still the same old Mikey. Sometimes, when I'm not thinking, I try to be funny and say something insensitive instead. If this results in people having trouble trusting me, I'll understand.

You're more than welcome to just do what another friend of mine did in response to this, though, and punch me in the stomach, nod, and say, "Yup. That worked. I feel much better." I'll mostly likely be buying the drinks after that.

Platonic - 14:1

2006-03-18T02:44:00.000-08:00

So I have this shirt. Joey and I were at the Ceder Hill's Crossing mall awhile back and he suggested, in jest, that I get a t-shirt made that advertised my constant platonic friend status. I go, "Dude, why not?" Lo and behold, I throw down the bucks and now own said shirt. Kellan and Will, while digging the joke, abhor me ever wearing it in public because they're of the mindset that if that's what I'm advertising, then that's what women will assume I've set myself up for.

The thing is that I both loathe and love platonic female friends. On the one hand, Lisa Deadly and Barista are great friends that happen to be girls. There's this thing where it's like brothers and sisters and that we look out for each other and not judge each other. An aura of safety exists there where you can count on them to be loyal and understanding and vice versa. Other people who work well in this catergory are Butterfly, Bartender Rose, and, on occasion, Irish Kelly. It's a very healthy scenario that yields a friendship that I look forward to having.

Problem is that it's super hard to come by without falling into some carefully laid "traps" that can spring up. This is in no ways indicative of people's character and I'm not trying to engage in women bashing. No one means to be this way, it just happens. The thing is, that sometimes women can end up using us nice guys. We're eager to be there and be the helpful person, but let me tell you: we hate having to listen to the B.S. about men when we're right there. There's always an inherent attraction in these situations (usually on the guy's side), but friendship usually wins out. I've got some friends that have had this help start everlasting friendships just like mine. The thing is that when this process takes too long, or isn't an honest process, the girl can sometimes take advantage of a vulnerable guy's giving nature. It's unintentional and no one gets any blame here, but... It sucks. It can make men very wary to enter into these relationships because it can make a guy feel used (women, too. I'm not trying to be sexist) and adverse to having platonic female friends.

Over time, the whole "When Harry Met Sally" line about men and women being unable to be friends because of sex can come true. It has the tendency to fuck everything up and should be avoided at all costs. I like to think that these friendships could lead somewhere positive. That being friends with someone of an intimate, trusting nature could lead to a great relationship. Who knows? Sometimes it can work, but I've never been comfortable enough to explore it.

I guess, the point of all of this is that I've been exposed to many of these situations and gotten some truly great friendships out of them. The common difference? Honesty. If both people are honest upfront and throughout? Good results occur. If either side isn't or masks honesty with a confused, "I'm not sure what I want" then nothing can work out well.

Things to keep in mind in the new year...

Back to the grind...

2006-03-12T17:19:00.000-08:00

So I'm hopefully graduating in June... Hopefully, if I can survive this and the next term's worth of class and work. Right now, I'm trying to get my feelers out there to find gainful employment after I get out. Apperently it's not THAT hard, since all of my friends have found jobs, but it's going to take LOTS of work that I'm just frankly intimidated by.

In other news, I have confirmation that the column will be up this week. Right on schedule. Comment if you have an opinion. Also, come by the video store and hang out sometime. If you call the comment line and give me props, it'll apprarently get me promoted. Be serious, though, and actually have an account there ;)

Had a really nice Friday night that I'd like to say was made possible by some good people that I'm glad I got to meet this year: Ashley ("Hat-trick") and Christine ("Barista"). While I hung out with them seperately with Joey being the hold over from both events that night, he commented that I have a knack for finding super-cool platonic girls that are actually fun without being emmasculating. I think that's important.

I'll be off to NYC in T-minus 15 days. If you want souveniers or pictures of certain things, let me know. I'm going to go super-tourist. Comic book stores, night spots, sight seeing... the whole she-bang. My sisters direct quote, "I'm going to show you why this is the best city in the world." You're on.

Theme song for the moment...

2006-03-10T00:25:00.000-08:00

"Aside" by the Weakerthans

Measure me in metered lines, in one decisive stare, the time it takes to get from here to there. My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I got for free; I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely. I am so much better than I used to be. Terrified of telephones and shopping mall, and knives, and drowning in the pools of over lives. Rely a bit to heavily on alcohol and irony. Get clobbered on by courtesy, in love with love, and lousy poetry. And I'm leaning on a broken fence between Past and Present tense. And I'm losing all these stupid games that I swore I'd never play. And it almost feels okay. Circumnavigate this body of wonder and uncertainty. Armed with every previous failure, and amateur cartography, I breathe in deep before I spread these maps out on my bedroom floor. Leaving. Wave goodbye Losing, but I'll try, with the last ways left, to remember. Sing my imperfect offering.

Happy Birthday, URP, to me...

2006-03-07T15:52:00.000-08:00

SO! Lessons learned on this, my 25th Birthday? Never accept shots from my friends. It's like I'm a prefrosh at a frat kegger and some guy gives me a red cup with a floating tab in it and the next thing you know my skin looks like its melting. Dear god... Whiskey is the devil...

I will say that I was totally impressed with all of the great friends of mine that managed to make it out. If you showed up and I was a loud, intoxicated lunatic, I apologize. Blame Karl, Will, and Kevin. I don't remember anything after the first double shot of Johnny Walker.

Thanks to Tana, Erin, Jill, Doc, Burton, Caitlin, D, Karl, Kevin, Dani, Brent, Nicole, Will, Desi, Jake, Emily, Dennis, Abel, Kellan, Joey, Joelle, Gator, Kathy, My Dad and Dina, and anyone I forgot to mention. It was great to have so many people there that I could hug ('cause we drunks love the hugging!) and who will forgive me the next day.

In retrospect, 25 is a pretty scary age for me. I don't really have as much accomplished by now as I'd like to. I'm working on it, but it's an arduous pace. I bought Elizabethtown (SHUSH now, you naysayers!!!) and for some reason, I feel a very strong kinship with this movie. It seems to resonate a lot of feelings I have about my life. Plus, the plight of the main character is yet another one of my fears: That even if I become a success, I'll still fuck it up. You can never escape fear of failure. It's impossible, I'm gathering.

In other news: I'm heading to NYC in March/April for a week. See the G-parents, hang with sister, and put a face to NYC Kelly. Weirdness... I'm graduating in June. Twice the weirdness...

Ugh.

Hungry.

More to come at a later date.

DONT FORGET: March 14th or so, new installment of "Square Bound" on www.Sequart.com. I am a columnist, hear me roar.

Oh dear god... It's so true...

2006-03-07T13:33:00.000-08:00

cassella --

[noun]:

A person who falls into an outhouse and dies

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Non sono arabiato

2006-02-14T21:41:00.000-08:00

So I was going to write a post about how much I hate Valentine's Day and all of the bad experiences I've had with this holiday over the years. Then I decided that'd be just too bitter. SO, in a bit of irony I thought I'd write about another key event in American crime history, the St. Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Valentine%27s_Day_Massacre). Then I realized how that two would have just been bitter because, well, I'm celebrating the murder of gangsters on this "special" day.

I decided instead to list the movies that get me through these times of Hallmarkian monotony and basically just share with you what makes feel a little better about being alone. Again, not trying to obsess about the downer of this day or whatever, but I don't think people pay too much attention to those DVDs on the lower racks and sometimes, SOMETIMES, they're quite the aid in the dark times. I don't watch ALL of these movies every year, but I do enjoy one or two of them during the course of dark day.

Poolhall Junkies: Simply put, it's about pool sharks. Mars Callahan plays a hustler eager to get out of the game but lured back in to help out his screw-up brother. Callahan wrote and directed the picture which costars Chazz Palmenterri and Christopher Walken. The best part? Every actor in the movie does their own pool shots. While that may sound "who cares?" now, when you watch the movie, it's pretty amazing.

The Station Agent: Peter Dinkelege plays Fin, a dwarf who inherits a train depot in Newfoundland, NJ when his best friend dies. There, he meets Patricia Clarkson's Olivia, a mother who's lost her child and Bobby Carnavale's Joe who just can't stop being friendly. The three form a unique and very real friendship that we can all relate to.

Around the Bend: Josh Lucas, Christopher Walken, and Jonah Bobo play three generations of Lair men who must embark on a roadtrip after the death of Michael Caine, the patriarch of the family. The trio learn a thing or two about what it means to be a family and that you can't choose who your father is.

The Baxter: Have you ever wondered what happens to the guy who gets left in those romantic comedies for the main protagonist? Meg Ryan's fiance that she dumps in favor of Tom Hanks and so on? Well, this movie is about that guy: The Baxter. Michael Showalter plays Elliot Wendall Sherman, an accountant who likes the finer things like good wine and opera and is about to be dumped by his fiance in favor of her old high school boyfriend. How does Elliot know this? Because it's the story of his life as a Baxter. The humor is very subtle and may not be for everybody, but it's a great movie.

Layer Cake: Best action movie of last year. The Brits sure can make a great crime movie and they always wind up showing us how it should be done. Daniel Craig plays a drug dealer who's almost out of the game as long as he can survive this last deal. The directorial debut of producer Matthew Vaughn is simply stunning.

Changing Lanes: Yes, it has Ben "Ass-fleck," but it also has Sam "the Man" Jackson to balance it out. The story revolves around a chance encounter during a very important day for two strangers (Affleck and Jackson) that happens to send both of their lives out of control. A very good morality play with an amazing supporting cast.

Spartan: Proof that sometimes we Americans can also make damn fine action movies. Val Kilmer plays a special OPs agent who gets tangled up in a kidnapping of a high-placed government official. As he tries to get all of the facts he stumbles onto a conspiracy that threatens himself and anyone involved. Taut-action and David Mamet dialogue (that is sometimes a bit to get used to) make this a great movie.

Hustle and Flow: If Rocky Balboa was a pimp instead of a thug and aspired to be a rapper instead of boxer. That's essentially what this movie is about. Terrence Howard turns in an amazing performance as DJay, the aforementioned pimp with big dreams. The movie follows DJay and his friends as they cut his demo and dream of making it big. One of the best movies of last year.

Girl Next Door: Romantic teen sex comedies are a hard nut to crack. Remakes of classic romantic teen sex comedies are even harder, but this update of Risky Business that uses porn stars instead of hookers is not only fun, but has a lot of heart and ultimately that's what makes it work.

Sky High: Teenagers with superpowers who go to a special high school that teaches them how to be superheroes. Are there any questions why this movie cheers me up?

Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead: Long title, amazing cast, great movie. A crew of criminals who all need to just get out of the game are brought back together for one more job... that they screw up so immensely they're all marked for death. Jimmy the Saint, Franchise, Pieces, Easy Way, Critical Bill, The Man with the Plan, Mr. Shush... I totally dig this movie.

Updates

2006-02-04T02:19:00.000-08:00

So the first column should be up on Feb. 14th and I'm going to try to go for a monthly schedule where I publish a new column every FOURTH Tuesday. Fingers crossed. Again, the column is called "Square Bound" on www.sequart.com.

Lisa Deadly rolled into town tonight. She was greeted by Kellan, Dennis, and Abel and me as we all exchanged quips, beers, stories, and other substances to abuse. We helped her unload her car of some valuables that needed to be stored at my place until she could find permanent residence and get settled. All in all, we'll see how the weekend treats her.

I've finally hit burnout. Too much work, not enough sleep, very little social life, and no time for school collided last week and I ended up crashing for almost fourteen hours. It was just too much to handle. I talked to the video store and now I'm down to 7-11pm shifts for the foreseeable future. They just don't pay me enough to do more than that right now at the expense of school. I'll be spending the next few days trying to get caught up to refocus the term and not have to "salvage" anything, but get as decent grades as possible.

Will bought his new car and is quite ecstatic. Click his link to learn more.

Bentley is putting together a small Super Bowl party. He's quite ecstatic. He has not posted anything on his blog, so there would be no point to clicking his link.

Doc seems to think that something about my blog or the way I write would elicit the term "creative arrogance." I think that's what happens when Doc starts making up stories about having sex again. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Many other new developments, but I'm saving updates on those until any number of them start to show signs of bearing fruit.

:End of Information Stream:

Posting ain't easy

2006-01-31T02:06:00.000-08:00

So where have I been? Why don't I post anymore? Goddammit, favorites need to update regularly to stay in the rotation!

The thing is, I have recently gotten a new third job. There's the video store (Hollywood on 20th and W Burnside, come visit!), the office job (yeah, office assisstant, yeah), and now, my own online column. Yes, that's right. I'm going to be a columnist again.

The story goes like this: Awhile back, on the old, Powered By Pop Culture blog, I wrote a little post about graphic novels and their importance and history in the literary and comic book market. After awhile, it became really hard to make posts for this blog and my plans to continue writing for it faded into the ether. Then, one day, Breanna (friend from California), decided it'd be fun to Google my name and discovered that said post had been picked up as a newsitem on the Ait/PlanetLar (an independant comic book company that I'm a huge fan of) website under their "cool postings" links. I was amazed. On the same day, I stumbled on to a comic book website called SequArt.com. They're site seemed to deal with discussing comics as seriously as possible whether it was reviews, news, or critiques of current trends... and they were accepting submissions for columnists. I applied, got accepted, and I should be seeing my first article up there soon.

The column is called "Square Bound" and will deal with the emerging graphic novel "revolution" that seems to be enveloping comicdom. I'll post here as soon as I get a "print date" for the piece. From there, I'm going to do my best to keep a bi-weekly schedule.

Whose house? Run's house. I said, whose house? RUN'S HOUSE!

Tappin' the nostalgia vein

2006-01-12T16:38:00.000-08:00

Let's take a trip back in time to 1990. There I was, fresh off of the Batman movie bandwagon. Fresh-faced and dough-eyed little 9 year old with not a care in world except that suddenly, I thought that comic book superheroes were the coolest thing EVER.

A stroke of genius passes the minds of NBC executives and a pilot for a television series based on another DC Comics character is greenlit. The Flash is "racing towards primetime," to quote the advertisers.

Now, I'm not into the whole, "re-live your youth by buying retreads of old stuff" a la, Transformers reissued toys, the release of old cartoons like Rainbow Brite or Jem and the holograms as t-shirts and screen-printed hoodies, or brand-spankin' new Care Bear plushes... but one thing I will get behind is the retro releases on DVD. Let's face it: THIS is cool. So far on the old nostalgia wheel, I've gotten Magnum P.I. and The Rockford Files on DVD. The kicker, though, came a few months ago when WB DVD announced the release of one of their classic, but unappreciated and prematurely cancelled TV shows... The Flash. Suffice it to say, I've been counting the days.

So, here in all of it's glory, is the complete series of one of my all time favorite shows. Does the writing hold up? About as good as any TV show after the fact. Are the effects still cutting edge? Ha! Not by today's standards. Is there a definite, "not the right era" factor from watching a show from 16 years ago now? Just in the neckties and haircuts. All in all, though, the Flash wasn't great television because we know that's an oxymoron. The Flash was something special to me and continued to be throughout my growing up, whether it was the TV show, the comic, the cartoon, a t-shirt, or an action figure. The rub is that it STARTED with this little series that almost could.

So hard to say, "goodbye"

2006-01-10T18:59:00.000-08:00

It's been awhile since I've been good about posting here. I've hit the high notes of X-mas or New Year's (can't miss THOSE posts, y'know), but the usual barrage of sometimes useless, sometimes poignant, sometimes (rarely) thought-provoking posts have drifted off. Mostly, that's 'cause I'm just damn lazy or too busy. Also, I've just been devoid of anything that I thought warranted being up here. Until last Saturday.

I hate saying, "goodbye" to the point of avoidance. Let's just get that straight. No one on this planet who has any type of compassion should be able to say that they can deal with a close friend or loved one leaving their immediate proximity. If they say they can, run away from them. They have no soul.

Will is by far one of my closest friends and our friend, Nick, is one of my most important. At one point, I had to say goodbye to both of them in some respect. We went to different colleges for awhile. Will moved to Wisconsin. People can just generally move apart, socially. I have the utmost respect for the two of them and their feelings (despite what I may sound like in a social setting), so when someone that THEY care about leaves and I have to watch them deal with it, I empathize with them because it's upsetting them. On Saturday, they both said, "goodbye" to someone that they loved very dearly. Her name's Pauline.

Now, I know the girl. She's a mutual acquaintance, so it's not like I have no idea who she was or how much she meant to them. The thing is, when I heard she was returning home to Hong Kong (she's a Chinese citizen), it made me a little sad. She's a fun girl, a partier, smart, funny and she brings joy to some very close people to me. The thing is, she and I never got a chance to actually become anything other than our friend's friend. Just the way things work out.

As we stood there in the airport, a small group of friends of Pauline and Will, hugging, photographing, making jokes to add levity (that'd be me), I watched these people around me get very choked up. Now, I didn't get choked up. I don't know Pauline as well as Will and Nick, but I knew where they were coming from and there was this moment where we were all setting around a table in the food court and people began to get really choked up and avoiding talking or eye-contact. All I wanted to do was make a joke or splash water on my head or something to lighten the mood. I just had a feeling that that wouldn't have helped. I mentioned I needed to get quick drink and then started wondering the little mini-mall area of the terminal. As I meandered in and out of the shops I saw, I started to pick-up little items that I thought Pauline should have for her trip. Included in this mini care package was a copy of Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman, a pack of playing cards with pictures of Oregon on them, a bag of Almond Roca and a Portland t-shirt.

I have no idea what prompted me to do this, but when we were going around the circle giving Pauline that last goodbye hug, I felt like that was my way of saying, "I wish I'd gotten to know you better."

Happy New Year

2006-01-01T00:01:00.000-08:00

So here I am, drunk on New Year's Eve and left to recap the last twelve months while watching the ball drop and hanging with a few friends. Let's get to it, shall we?

*Broke up with Alicia. Didn't talk for 7 months. Saw her on the street on one of the best days of the year and decided, "y'know what? Let's call her."

*Moved out of Kevin's and into a studio downtown. Living behind a bar never really comes to your attention until you go in and everybody knows your name and, conveniently no longer cards you. I now live next to four bars, a coffee shop, a video store, two fast food restaurants, and an upscale bar and grill, among other things.

*Worked for Wells Fargo, quit Wells Fargo and got a job back at ye ol' Hollywood Video. Lord, how do I miss working there. We have 80k movies and I'm so happy to be there. Great staff, great customers (with the random idiots thrown in), and just plain good times.

*Went back to school and I'll be graduating in June and starting either a post-bac program or masters program in the fall (fingers crossed).

*What a year of movies. The ones that actually got advertising? Sucked. The ones that I had to actually research in order to enjoy? Rocked.

*Serenity. Firefly the movie. Nuff said.

*The wedding for Bentley and Dani. Rawk.

*Made amends with as many old "problems" as possible.

*New friends: Meg and Erin, Zac, Ali and Nick, K3hl and Amanda, Julie, Stacy, and Tana, Fallon, Annapurna and Emir, Alissa, Sierra, Dennis and Abel, and, of course, NYC Kelly. Plus, the return of Burton, Colie, Laura, D and, the most important return of all, Will "the Wolf" Myren. What a year for meeting new people.

There's a much longer list of things to be thankful for this year but I'm just going to say this: To all of those who aided and abetted to making this year one to remember. It truly was one of the greats and I feel (dare I even say it) blessed that I got to participate in 2005 with this many highlights.

Aud Lang muthafuckin' Syne.

My street

2005-12-18T23:40:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd take a moment and just sorta say thanks for whatever hand of fate stuck me on W Burnside as my home for these past (and forthcoming) months. With Burnside being the stretch of road the effectively links the entire city of Portland in one form or another and the section I live in being near a transit center and three bars... we get the occasional colorful characters... The majority of the upper NW and SW area is made up of late 20/early 30's gay couples, mid-20's hipsters, and PSU students who pay for mid level apartments in a nice area by working for the multiple corporate outlets (starbucks, cost plus, levi's, etc) and upscale shops on 23rd. The area is pretty diverse considering it being so close to the West Hills and downtown. Not THE picture of diversity, but not stark of eclectic feeling.

Regardless of all of that, I love it here. I've said that before (and I have of late acknowledged that I miss the East side a little) and I'll say it every time I have a morning like this one:

I woke up after an almost all-night bender with red wine and Xena episodes on DVD after closing the Ringside bar with one of my drinking buddies, Erin (of the aforementioned "M&E", Meg and Erin). After doing what Erin and I do best (making lists over happy hour specials and sharing war stories of dating and family), we went over to the Blue Moon, grabbed a bottle of their finest red, and kicked it at her place up on SW 22nd until we both passed out. As I left her apartment with a "terrific" pinot noir induced hangover, I stopped by the video store where I work to drop off my Serenity pre-street DVD and grab the last two discs of HBO's The Wire (one hell of a show). I chatted it up with a coworker, checked the schedule, and made my way out only to find one of my favorite bartenders (Jamie the Great) opening the Bitter End pub a little late (he too was hung over). I hung out with him while he opened the bar and he comped me some soda while we exchanged drinkin' horror stories. After finishing my last drink and wishing Jamie a good shift, I continued home down Burnside to the Portland Coffee House, on 19th and Burnside. This little independent coffee shop has always reminded me of an outpost of indy in the shadows of two(!) Starbuck's and a Panda Express. The staff don't know my name (they call me "Hollywood" because I usually stop in before/after a shift), but they have my drink down and there's rarely the need to actually order. I left, 12oz Cafe Mocha (with 2 shots) in tow, and made my last stop at the Marathon Taverna on 18th to grab some to-go lunch. Kathy and Gator were working. Kathy is THE coolest barmaid and Gator is the bouncer who never cards me because I go there too much. A burger and fries order to go later and I was home in my apartment just in time for the snow fall.

The point of that long and uneventful story is that I feel very at home on this street. Two bars where the 'tenders know my name (or face or whatever), a coffee shop with smiling faces and good drinks, a job that I spend more time in when I'm off the clock than when I'm on it and two "neighbors" that make every week nice with a night cap or a good show.

Can't beat it.

The true meaning of X-Mas

2005-12-16T11:50:00.000-08:00

Let's get one thing straight: I love the holidays and I hate the holidays.

First, why I hate the holidays: it's the only time of year I could be called an alcoholic, mostly because I temper any of my insecurities regarding family with copious amounts of booze. Although, from talking to friends and associates, this is apparently normal. The downside is that my father has apparently given up drinking, so I was the only one at Thanksgiving slurring my words while trying to ask what the soup was. The sad thing is that I never do this except around this time of year. I don't get hammered nightly, weekly, or even monthly. I know my limits and I usually have a beer or two. Rarely do I venture into the hard A. S'just the setting. Who knows the reasons, eh?

Also, I somehow manage to overdraw my checking account every year. EVERY year... Not this time, though... No, no. Gotta plan this time... *does the best Mr. Burns impression he's capable of*

Why I love the holidays? I do not know. I'll tell you this: I have been known to get festive. I love Christmas shopping, I'm more charitable, and I even curb the cynicism for at least six to ten weeks. The most common response to hearing about this change in mood is, "Well, that's bullshit. Why can't you just be like that all the time?" To that, I say, "Feh!" It's the holiday season. Lighten up and stow it. Just accept that once a year people can put their selfish, narcissistic feelings in their back pockets. Don't demand that they outright change because, frankly, who has? Ok, besides Scrooge.

Lately, I've been hearing something from people when they find out I've gotten them a Christmas present. "Dude, don't do that. I don't want to have to get you anything. I'm broke and I'd feel bad." Again, I say, "Feh!" I'm not giving you a present to get something from you. I know you're broke. I'm not doing this to get more gifts. If I wanted stuff, I'd just use the money I spent on you to buy the things I wanted. I love my friends, I love my family, and I even love my drinking buddies and co-workers. I have gotten these people gifts of my affection. I didn't spend fortunes or pawn my worldly goods. I just got them things I knew they'd like and hoped that they had a happy holiday. The only thing I expect to get out of it is the look on their faces. They're my loved ones and I am imbued with rightious holiday spirit!

Christmas has a bad rep thanks to consumerism overkill. Black Friday, sales galore, gift cards and shopping sprees... That's the bullshit of the X-Mas time. Sitting around at Shari's (for the umpteenth year in a row), exchanging gifts while our parents are all nestled in their beds, waiting for us to descend on their houses and eat their food and so on... Tipping whatever poor soul got saddled with the Christmas eve shift as much as we can... Remembering the times of laughter and love... That's the holidays to me. I hope others find as much or even half as much solace as I do in those little moments.

A merry Christmas to all and to all... well, yeah.

I'm a super-hero! Finally! Dad will be so proud...

2005-12-06T02:32:00.000-08:00

Your results:
You are Green Lantern

Green Lantern		85%
Spider-Man		75%
The Flash		60%
Superman		60%
Catwoman		50%
Iron Man		45%
Hulk		40%
Supergirl		35%
Batman		35%
Robin		32%
Wonder Woman		25%

Hot-headed. You have strong
will power and a good imagination.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...

Ahem! LIGHTS!

2005-12-06T02:14:00.000-08:00

So remember the last two X-Men movies? Lord knows I do. The first one was just plain bad, if you ask me. Almost Fantastic Four bad. The second one was up there with Spider-man 2, Hellboy, and Batman Begins as a way to interpret years of material into one film and make an entire audience feel entertained.

With averages like that, I'm curious as how this next sequel will fare.

Take a look for yourself. http://www.apple.com/trailers/fox/x3/

Comments if you have any.

P.S. That new blue, hairy guy? That's the Beast played by none other than Kelsey Grammer. Frasier's a superhero! I know at least that'll be cool.

The new Crusades

2005-12-01T21:37:00.000-08:00

I'm of the mindset that if pop music had been around in the middle ages, the Crusades would have been fought against people who liked Mos Def more than Talib Kweli.

Seriously, though. Music seems to be the center of much more conflict among people in society rather than religion. By making this statement, I know I'm opening myself up for a deluge of comments (meaning three) regarding how ridiculous a comparison I'm making. How could I possibly sound so uneducated? Because, frankly, I've seen it in action.

Throughout my life, I've heard debate after debate about the "accuracy" or "virtue" or whatever about whose religion is the "right" one or if being religious is something that denotes character or fanaticism or whatever. I went to a liberal arts college that used to be a Baptist school. Ethics class was always a blast. The thing is that none of the debates at this institution had the level of passion that debating the merits of Green Day's new album or if Iggy Pop was cooler than Jim Morrison or if Rap is really music. To see the veracity in which people can get into these debates, and I'm not just talking about just music elitists or punk rawkers, is a sight to behold. Obscenities fly, food was thrown, wars have been waged. All over pop music. These aren't the music elitists of "High Fidelity," either. These are just a random sampling of college kids enjoying lunch one minute and launching into debates that'd make Howard Dean blush.

What does this say, then, about the true nature of passion in pop culture?

Starting with, probably, the 1970's rock vs. disco battles and moving into New Age vs. Punk during the 1980's, a new level of fanaticism, a subtle level of infatuation, has permeated the zeitgeist of pop music. The genius behind this little war of the verbals is that people who normally don't get too into conflicts of the melodramatic variety can be seen throwing down the, "you better not have said what I think you've just said" gauntlet over something as trivial as the merits of the Ramones early works and how Eminem is no better than Elvis.

I don't think I've ever seen the same piss and vinegar thrown around when Fundamentalist Christians attack Buddhism as "idolatry" or Mormons and Scientologist defend their religions as anything but cults. The fans of the Sex Pistols degrading anyone wearing a Blink 182 shirt seem to get twice as vicious.

I'm not sure what it is. Maybe it's just that music is something that everyone takes to heart because of how it can remind us of our feelings and our souls or some such Dr. Phil moment. Maybe it's because there's a type of music for everyone and since you could say that since 95% of the population has a passion for music in some variety than 95% of the population can debate about it with passion. I love theorizing statistics like I've actually researched this...

I'm not trying to disrespect the passion of someone with the courage to defend their lifelong commitment to a belief by saying someone who likes Madonna a LOT is more determined to show their belief. I'm just saying that it's been a lifelong observation of mine that if someone really believes that the Goo Goo Dolls should have died in a plane crash instead of Lynard Skynard they'll argue it harder than someone who believes Christ really was the son of God. Unless they're a Pentecostal. Them people are damn scary.

I don't know about you, but I don't know if I could ever admit my fondness for Journey in public for fear of vicious reprisal. I'd tell my Grandmother that I thought Catholicism was a crock before I'd do that.

You're wrong

2005-12-01T02:52:00.000-08:00

Guess what? You're not as smart as you think you are. Seriously, I know this is hard to grasp, but you are not the comfortable, creamy center of your universe and you sure as hell don't have all the answers. Me? I got shit, so don't think I'm any better off.

That's the thing of it, y'know? We all think we know what we're doing to some capacity, especially when confronted about our decisions. In fact, that confrontation just hammers it home that you're right and they're wrong, because, dammit, they just don't have all of the facts that you did when you formed the opinion or made the decision.

I'm speaking to no one specific here, so no one out there get any ideas. What I'm getting at is that I've noticed when we let our guards down, listen to these people around us and start nodding in understanding, then maybe we can start making some decisions that don't make everyone nervous. Whether they be about college, grad school, women, men, jobs, whatnot, it's important to not mistake confidence in your convictions and your decisions for befuddled arrogance masking fear. We're all fallible and WHEN things don't go the way you planned (there is really no "if" in these realms, people, and that doesn't mean that it'll end badly), you're ready to adapt and shift into the next gear smoothly.

I know, off the top of my head, three very, very smart people. They're probably geniuses in their own right, but each of them has their moments when their confidence wavers. Rarely does it have to do with the fields that MAKE them geniuses, but when it deals with the situations that make them HUMAN, then they are just as stupid or smart as the rest of us.

Remember, just because you can recite facts or solve math problems or speak three languages does not make you smarter than anyone. In the end, you'll be heartbroken over a break-up or you'll miss the love of a parent when they dismiss you or you'll feel the pangs of failure when you don't get a job you got for. The "simple" people should keep that in mind, if they don't already.

I always think of the Fonz from Happy Days when I think of someone who has trouble admitting they're wrong. If you're unfamiliar with this reference, the Fonz was THE coolest cat in town and was always the smartest guy in the room about everything important (i.e. chicks). When those rare occasions occurred when the Fonz had made an error, he would be incapable of expressing his mistake in words. "I was wrrrrr... Wrroo... I was mistaken, Ritchie, alright?"

Well, keep that in mind. This isn't meant to humble the people who think they're smart. This is meant to remind the people who THINK they aren't that we're all the same when it comes to the important things.

New theme song

2005-11-29T02:34:00.000-08:00

In my opinion, Ally Mcbeal was a shit show. It was derivative of everything that made "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" great and the show focused too much on sex lives and the neurotic babbling of an anorexic. That's my opinion as a critic of television, 10 years strong.

Although, I will say one thing that David E. Kelly got right on this show was when Ally was in therapy for the umpteenth time. Her therapist's diagnosis for getting through her day was to get a theme song to dance to. I stand behind this idea one hundred percent. I've even made it my mission to make mixes to match moods and average days or experiences and even friends themes for when I have happy memories of them. Soundtracks are important in the cinema of living, y'know.

The current song that pretty much governs my mood is "Ashes" by a band called Embrace from the UK. On their website they've actually posted from a paragraph describing one of the critic's feelings on what the song means and I think it sums up better than I could for why it's great for me (and maybe even YOU) in this period of breathing as a biological Rube Goldberg contraption (read: "living"):

"As such "Ashes" is a valediction, which is a very odd thing to begin a record with. But it makes sense, given the talk of lines being drawn underneath things, because it's a song about taking knocks and transferring that energy into your own, about using mistakes and regrets to drive you forward. Which is apposite, because it fulfils so many promises at once that it seems destined to become a signature tune, and how many bands can claim to have written one of those for their fourth album? Mighty but not flustered, grand but not pompous, big without being long, anthemic without resorting to cliche - so many nails are being so firmly hit on the head with this song that it's a wonder why their strikes were ever off-centre in the past."

(I'm going to forgo posting the lyrics and just say that, if you're curious, "acquire it")

When/If you comment, please put what your current theme song is (if you have one).

Moving forward, looking back...

2005-11-28T01:09:00.000-08:00

The things that never change are the ones that really always make the things that flux even better. What I mean to say, is that while everything always goes through some sort of evolutionary process, becoming a higher being or organism, even just socially, it's those consistencies that really tie the package together.

Take friendship for example: No matter how much two people change, that constant relationship that two or three or a dozen people can maintain adds to the overall evolution of the person as a whole. Dynamics, roles, and even personalities can shift, but the very fiber that makes up a set of people in the limited confines that exist for a friendship can lend volumes of character growth.

Recently, Miss Marjie commented that, "All one must do to see the broad spectrum of humanity is look at Mikey's friends. You savers attract all kinds." This comment means a great deal to me because 1) Marjie obviously GETS me and that's important to me for a friend and 2) I work hard to assemble such an array and to have someone understand the purpose of such a motley crew is very complimentary. I don't keep people around for their uses or their support. I maintain these groups because they all work as one collective organism that can support each part at any given time. All of these people that I know are important to me, yes, but they're wholly capable of being supportive to each other. In the paths that I've crossed in these 24 years, I've met an assortment of colorful personalities and every one of them is unique. The only thing that they have in common is that they have integrity and heart. Every one of them. I don't care what they say, because I wouldn't involve myself with them if they didn't. Those two consistent qualities are what allow them to actually be a benefit to each other if/when they're ready to take that step and stop referring to each other as, "Mike's friends" and actually open up to each other.

I have a plan here, people. I'm manic and arrogant, but believe me, there is a method to this madness.

Hey, look! I'm on South Park

2005-11-26T03:13:00.000-08:00

So THIS is quite neat. What I would look like if I was a guest star on South Park. Don't know how they'd explain the beard, though...

Special thanks to http://www.planearium.de/flash/sp-studio.swf for their nifty little distraction.

Black Friday

2005-11-25T02:52:00.000-08:00

Lord, people are stupid. Think about it: For as long as we can recall, the day after Thanksgiving has been the busiest shopping day of the year. Hands down. Yet, still people head to the malls, the chains, the whatnot, packing the corridors and parking lots... all for a sale that lasts from 5am-noon. It's insanity.

Two incidences regarding this "Black Friday" stand out in my mind. The most recent was when I worked at Best Buy during the "Dark Period" that we like to call 2003-2004. Every employee in the store who didn't have a dying relative or was giving birth was assigned to work on that dreaded Friday. The craziest part, though? They made us run drills. I shit you not. Half the staff would line up at the front of the store and the others would stay in their departments. Once the exercise began, the first half would race through the store to grab merchandise and the second half had to upsell, direct, and maintain order of all of the chaos. It was utterly ridiculous. The crazy part came when the actual people showed up and we realized that the exercise was not for naught. Automatons duped by ads and sale prices showed up in droves and were constantly hounding us for answers regarding where the laptops were or if this was covered by a rebate. All I could think about was drinking myself to death.

The other incident occurred when I was a freshman in college. My friend Chris always loved to go off and do crazy activities for no apparent reason. This time? "Hey, I'm going to the mall. Care to join?" "Dude, It's the day after turkey day. EVERYONE is there." "S'the fuckin' point! You coming or not?" And off we went. Traffic was backed up to the main freeway and there was literally NO parking. Once we entered the mall, the walkways were so packed with people, you had to make sure you were focused straight ahead so you wouldn't get distracted and subsequently trampled by patrons. There was this bobble-head kiosk near the ice rink and upon close examination I noticed that all of the heads were moving. Every single one. I felt the railing with my hand and realized that there was a low vibration emitting. Now, I was a consummate mallrat at this time and had never, NEVER, seen this occur. It was terrifying. We were probably setting off the Richter scale on some small level.

So after all of this, I wonder why people bother? Is a deal on a pair of socks or computer game THAT important? Have we been duped that far by advertisements and sales that we have to follow a convention of consumers that we know to be manufactured?

In response to this and because of my own experiences in retail, there's a practice that I used to partake in. Since a few of my friends work retail and thus work this ghastly day of days, I've made it a habit for the last few years to visit them at work with "survival kits" consisting of cigarettes (if they smoke), starbucks giftcards, red bull, a good book, and a cheap DVD for when they finish. I don't know if I'll be able to do it THIS year, since having a car is required and I've parked mine for the time being (long story), but for those that I can visit, I'll do what I can. It's the least I can do for soldiers in an infantry that fights a grueling annual battle against an army of mindless attackers.

Semper fi, comrades.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

2005-11-23T13:37:00.000-08:00

So I still talk to almost all of my ex's. Seriously. With the exception, of like... one of them, I'm on speaking terms, cordial speaking terms, with all of them. I've gone to their weddings, had drinks, hung out, shared insights, and even become good friends in the case of one of them (ironically enough, we get along better as friends than when we actually dated. Whoo-rah to no sexual tension!). Lately, someone asked me what the hell was up with my doing that. See, personally, I think it's important to maintain some semblance of a relationship there; to show that it wasn't all for naught (especially if it was a deep or intense relationship). This SEEMS like something that is really only beneficial to me, though, so bear with me:

Last night, while at the video store, I was watching High Fidelity during the close. During the whole reflection over the main characters initial top five break-ups, I found myself identifying with everyone of these characters as if they were avatars of the female for a man to relate to as ex's. Archetypes, if you will. Now, granted, as a viewer, that's what's SUPPOSED to happen. This is a movie for men about relationships so, of course, the story and characters are designed to gain your interest based on your ability to say, "dude, I dated a girl just like that!"

So, based on all of that, why would I want to form any type of relationship with these women? What purpose could that serve? Shouldn't we both just move on and agree to disagree?

The best example of why I even "bother" with what some men I know consider a "masochistic exercise in futility" can be explained with the girl that I've actually become friends with, post -relationship. I've gone into the events of what happened between me and Kelly enough for everyone, but I will say that while we're much better friends then we were lovers, that experience allowed us great insight into the other's character. That insight, every once in awhile can be welcome when it's needed.

I've had other ex's approach me during times of crisis, reaching out for someone who knows their problems and I've done the same to them if I've felt comfortable enough with that relationship. The fact that you shared yourself, intimately, opened up to another person and carried on whatever type of companionship that occurred, isn't something you should just throw away. That'd pretty much say that you wasted time, she wasted time, and nothing was learned by either party.

That's the point of dating. That's the fucking point! Learning! Learning about women (if you're a woman or a gay man, learning about men), learning about preferences, attraction, sexuality, intimacy, likes/dislikes, whatever is needing to be discovered. Eventually, you'll find a mate or realize you're better off on your own. That's the beauty of it.

If we didn't maintain some semblance of communication with the past, then we'd just repeat the same mistakes. Believe me, I can think of about six women off of the top of my head who really don't want to see that happen again.

Helpless

2005-11-18T02:21:00.000-08:00

There's actually a really good reason for me always working so much and also never having any money (damn, compulsive spending...) and it's really simple: I'm a meddler. Pure and simple, a combination of arrogance and "white knight" syndrome compels me to "save" everyone from whatever might be going to cause them harm. I do it to those I call friends the most, and I'm not sure if it's an endearing trait or something that I should work on not doing.

Will likes to say that people will do whatever they want to do, no matter what you try to do to stop them. I've always felt that that was half true, but a time less quote that I've always stood by is, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." (Edmund Burke) Whether that need always apply in life, I'm not sure, but I'd hate to play the odds.

Lately, since I've taken on two jobs and tried to stay on task at school, I don't get to go out as much during the week as I'm used to. My friends are off doing their own thing and I'm stuck hearing about it a week later, third hand, wondering if I'd been there... would I have done something to stop them from doing something that might adversely affect themselves? It's not really my place, though. That much is true. So then the thoughts trickle down to my friends and family in other states who seem to have crisis after crisis. If I was there, if I was capable of being there when they needed someone, would I be able to help them?

It's like Jewish neurosis and Catholic guilt colliding all at once.

This was all on my mind today, while I manned the till at work. One of my coworkers asked if I was ok and I realized I had my "thinkin' real hard" face on. I shrugged it off and switched into my "manic clerk of all trades" mode. That's when one of my neighborhood friends showed up to rent a flick. I'm pretty good pals with her, but we haven't known each other all that long. I went out to the floor to say, "Hey" and I noticed she looked really upset. She asked me if I was going to be taking lunch soon, and I flagged down my boss and asked for a quick ten. Outside, she broke down about her shitty day. Dying relatives, incarcerated siblings, unemployment, and scary homeless dudes. I gave her a hug and let her cry for a few minutes. She asked if I needed to go back to work because it'd probably been more than ten minutes. I nodded and asked if she needed anything else. She smiled a little and basically said that my being there was enough.

I think in the end, that's all I can do. I can't hop in my car, drive a five hundred miles, and just remove my friend from a bad situation. I can't fly to New York and help my sister with whatever problems she's having. I can't stop my friends from getting pissed ass drunk and doing harm to themselves or others. Will's right: No one can do that.

I think, in a way, being raised on comic books lets me think that being there for every tragedy is possible. Ironically, the current writers of Superman and whatnot all try to hammer home that today's heroes realize that they can't save everyone. They just do their best and they tell themselves that has to be enough.

Same here.

Portland shooting, airborne prozac, your mom...

2005-10-26T13:22:00.000-07:00

Let's get down to brass tax here: Portland is the last place you want to shoot your movie. This is a message to all those filmmakers out there who are trying to figure out where to get a good deal on a nice looking city to have their movie take place and want to avoid another "Vancouver, BC=NYC" mess, a la "Fantastic Four." It occurred to me today that I cannot for the life of me think of a movie that was shot, on location, in Portland that was worth watching. IF it was worth watching, it didn't make any money. Prove me wrong. I'm curious.

So, my last post was too saccharine, even for me. What the hell happened? I was the bitter guy and now... Not so much. I'm not gleeful. Not joyous, either. The thing is, I'm not depressed. I'm not angry. I'm just "doing well" and I'm enjoying myself. This has been a great summer and has taught me a lot about being OK with who I am. Lessons learned. Less sweetness will follow.

Ever noticed you can imagine certain women as 40 year old soccer moms while talking to them? Not every one, but every once in awhile... Weird shit.

Random Thoughts Concluded.

Autumn Rain

2005-10-18T00:12:00.000-07:00

So there I am on campus today. I'm listening to some Elizabethtown soundtrack tunes on the iPod and just taking my time making it to the streetcar to get home, and all of a sudden... It starts to rain leaves. Literally. It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen in awhile. Subsequently, everything else went well after that. I got a job I'd been hoping for. I had a great conversation with some friends and loved ones. I saw Etown again, and loved it still. Other things also occurred today that should have set me off, but suprisingly, their happening felt planned; like they were supposed to unfold when they did. As I ran some errands later in the day, I decided to take a drive and the following song came on my mix. I realized I was happy for the first time in awhile.

From underneath the trees, we watch the sky
Confusing stars for satellites
I never dreamed that you'd be mine
But here we are, we're here tonight

Singing Amen, I'm alive
Singing Amen, I'm alive

If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died
And I'm singing

Amen I, I'm alive
Amen I, I'm alive

And in the air the fireflies
Our only light in paradise
We'll show the world they were wrong
And teach them all to sing along

Singing Amen I'm alive
Singing Amen I'm alive

If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died
If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died

And as we lie beneath the stars
We realize how small we are
If they could love like you and me
Imagine what the world could be

If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died

We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day, we'd see the day
When nobody died
We'd see the day when nobody died

Ode to Portland

2005-10-16T00:11:00.000-07:00

Where have I been? Walking the streets of this great town. I remember why love it every time I walk out my door and take look at a breathtaking view of a magnificent city.

To Jimmy Mak's Jazz Club, where the drinks are strong, the service friendly, and the live music something to talk about.

To Powell's City of Books, where every floor contains another publication you simply cannot live without and every once in awhile you stumble on a live reading that instantly inspires you to pick up a great read.

To Portland State University, maybe not the greatest learning institution in the land, but still a welcoming environment for continuing education.

To Saturday Market with its street vendors of foods you love and hand-made crafts you simply must take a second look at.

To dive bars and coffee shops, streets named Hawthorne and 23rd, districts of the Pearl and Hollywood, and discovering something new every time you think you've taken a wrong turn.

To my town, my city, the current love of my life.

The Old Guard

2005-10-01T03:15:00.000-07:00

So it's come to my attention that I've never mentioned the Old Guard before. I think a brief recap is in order.

Jon the Doc, St. Burton, Crazy Laura, Big Gabe, Andrew the White, Irish Devin... These were my best friends when I was fifteen. The twist was that they were all between 19 and 21. They were the best friends I'd ever had because they treated me like an equal and always made me feel like I was part of something bigger.

They've all hit rough spots in the last ten years or so. Some have had to face some of the most brutal trials that growing up can teach someone. The thing is, that like the soldiers of chaos that I knew they always were, they've all managed to walk the line and survive.

These people are the primer for how I always viewed friendship and they're the reason why I've been the friend I am to the friends that I have. It's been said that I bring people together who wouldn't normally have met each other. I learned how to do this from the best mentors an adolescent could have had. As an adult (or some semblance of one) I continue to learn what they've shared with me was the nature of friendship: people who find other people of similar interests and personalities and who, above all, stick together through everything that comes their way.

Trust, honor, integrity, and loyalty. S'what the Old Guard taught me. The most important part is that they taught me all of that first.

Salut.

My Brother, Will

2005-10-01T02:44:00.000-07:00

I've known Will Wolff-Myren for a very long time. That is to say, that I've known him seven years this month. The odd thing is that it feels like I've known him my whole life. Like from the crib.

Growing up, I always wanted a brother. I was blessed with an amazing sister and I love her dearly, but everyone else I know had a brother, whether older or younger, and I was very, very jealous. Older brother seemed like so much fun to have around. You could share the same toys, which meant you'd get twice as many Christmas presents. You'd have someone to watch cartoons with and play with on the playground, no matter what time of day it was. The best part, though, was that they'd watch your back and you could watch theirs. "Hey, that's my brother you're picking on."

I met Will during the months following my first break-up with a girl ever. There are many memories that peppered those first few weeks he and I and bunch of other colorful high school characters became friends, but the one that stands out is the day he came to pick me up to go to the mall. At the time, this was how I would spend my Saturdays: Hanging around the food court, loitering in the video stores, and browsing in the B. Dalton. Will had other plans.

"How would you feel about going for a drive instead?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied. "Where did you have in mind?"

"South." With that, he turned and walked out of my house with me racing after him trying to decipher this unique turn of events.

That day, we drove about fifty miles south down I-5. We talked about our parents, school, our friends, and, most importantly, women. He was by far the first equal I'd ever been able to call "friend."

Will's best qualities lie in two places: his mind and his heart. His brain processes images probably twice as fast as the normal person's does because he's not just taking in the information he's looking at; he's cataloguing it for reference. Every image he sees is beautiful or unique or fascinating, but above all, it's interesting. The advent of the camera phone made Will's mind's life a great deal easier because he now had a backup for the "hard drive" that was his brain. The downside to all of this has always been his solving of every day problems as if they were tech support issues. That's where his heart comes to play. The enormity of his willingness to embrace new people and new things has always lent a sense of compassion to every action he performs. He is incapable of feeling truly regretful about an action for very long. Every action has a purpose and everything has something for us to learn. Every person we meet has something good about them and something to offer and every tragedy can be salvaged. Maybe it's just the Catholic education or maybe he is a truly kind soul.

One of his most admirable qualities is his "fortune cookie" logic for human behavior. Just like Confucius, the dialogue he throws into the ring of conversation makes simple sense and always makes you think. He sees an angle you knew was there, but hesitated to look at because of whatever was stopping you. No one is a "bitch" or a "whiner" or a "prick." Everyone is equally guilty and equally correct in whatever they're saying or doing.

What became evident over time was that due to our similar upbringings, psychosis, and experiences, we were more like brothers than friends. This is not to say that we weren't great friends, because we were. It was the arguments and the confrontations that we had that made us brothers first and comrades second. They were the fights that brothers had. In its own way, that was better. Brothers don't like friends. Friends can hold grudges. Friends can just up and decide to cut you loose and be done with you. Brothers know that they're basically stuck with you and had better learn to look past what's making them angry in order to move on and not waste time that could be better spent having a good time.

I have two younger half-brothers now. I envy them because they'll get to grow how I always wanted. It took me eighteen years to find the long-lost kin that I'd always known I had.

Rain and Why I Love It

2005-10-01T02:37:00.000-07:00

I live in Portland, Oregon. People seem to label Seattle as the land of depressing weather, but they're just swinging with the popular vote. Portland has some of the longest running rain spells on the west coast and when the rainy season starts, it won't stop for at least six months.

I was standing at the PSU street car stop with a couple of people from my math class today and the raining was entering its thirteenth straight hour. You could tell the "born-and-raised" Portlanders from the transplants. We were the ones not even noticing the downpour.

The thing is that I've never hated rain. I've embraced it since I was a kid. I may complain out loud, but usually because I hate driving on slick pavement or with zero visibility. Rain itself is something that I respect the most about this city's weather patterns. It washes away whatever harshness may have been brought out recently.

Rain forces us to deal with whatevers bothering us. It's such shitty weather that it makes it so easy to just go, "...and now it's raining on top of everything else!" That's a cop out that so very many tend to use as their own personal chestnut of frustration.

The rainy days bring some of the best moments in my life. The moments that I smile at how great things can go. Now if I could just make it to my car without landing on my ass from slipping down my building's front steps...

The point of it all

2005-09-29T19:43:00.000-07:00

I'm standing on campus today, listening to a little Ryan Adams (Cold Roses, disc 2), and I look around and smile. God, I missed this. I missed constant interaction and participation. I missed being IN my city. I missed meeting new people and putting in effort towards something. Seriously, that's what's been missing: Purpose.

The majority of the summer has been spent reaffirmming standards. Standards for my personal life, standards for my professional life, and standards for my life's direction. Absent from many of my relationships for a very long time has been a sense of confidence about what I was doing. I mean, why would this would this girl want to go out with me? I had no idea why anyone would. Obviously, not the best way to go through a partnership.

So this is me and I'm putting it up here. It's been a long six months of soul-searching. Of reverting back into the well that is my brain. Facing my two ultimate fears: Failing and becoming a bitter, lonely bastard who resents everyone who does better than me. It's actually a double fear. That's why it goes on in a run-on sentence.

The thing is, (and this kind of peaked the other day when I was reminiscing with an old friend about something) it does me no good to be REMINDED about the past. I obsess about it enough for everyone. Every mistake, every regret, every wrong turn. They've all been run around and around the mulberry bush until the monkey took an aluminum bat to the weasel. Pop.

There's an affirmation that I use for myself now. It's not a mantra or a Stuart Smally-esque "morning-in-the-mirror," thing. I just close my eyes, put on a good song (whatever one has gotten me to warm up recently) and think about my friends and family. The Titanic Trio, the Toasters, the Old Guard, the Group, the Inmates, M&E, The Lifers, D&GEO, F.I.T.'s, and the Comic Shoppers. Lame names, (and none of them're actually called that) but this is the tapestry of people in my life that are always there for me and who I'm always there for. They believe in me and for that I wash away all the bitterness and spite. I focus, play it out, and remember why I'm doing what I'm doing now: Finishing what I started.

This is the guy I was five years ago. This is who I've always been, but forgot how to do it. Not to say I'm moving backwards, but imagine forgeting how to speak a language or ride a bike. I'm slowly sliding back into the world without a cloud of fear and frustration. I've got to say that I've missed it.

Here's to a grad party in June. Here's to spending even more time with my family on both coasts. Here's me wishing more good luck on the people that wish it on me. Here's to one great summer that was made possible by the best people I could ever know. In Sinatra's own words, "I did it my way."

*Slips on headphones, fires up iPod, starts writing about television and comic books and movies*

Wi-Fi-tastic

2005-09-19T23:24:00.000-07:00

As I write this, I'm lounging in one of Portland's premiere "scene" gathering places: Coffee Time. I hate it here.

So, you could ask, why are you there?

The answer? To be around the people. The people who play chess at midnight on a Monday, the people who smoke under hot lamps on the sidewalk while regaling each other with exaggerated stories of past deeds of fancy, and, above all, the people who actually ask the barista, "Do you have any organic milk?" I swear to god, I can't stand these people. The thing is, I don't really get annoyed by them as much as I'm fascinated by them. How do they survive daily perils of modern living such as careers or marriage woes or over-bearing parents?

Apparently, the majority of them are self-sufficient artsy fartsy types who think that everything that was indie yesterday is too mainstream today. Therein lies the one glaring flaw with Coffee Time and all of its brethren: They're part of a culture that has no idea what it is, wants, or aspires to be. This is nothing new when discussing whatever the hell Generation-with-a-letter-after-it we're in now, but having it thrust in front of you appears to only make it more glaring.

It might just be the Portland scene, but the arrogance masked as self-confidence and the outright fear masked as ambition seem to actually inspire me to show them one for. Not all that surprising, is that this seems to be a first date Mecca for a majority of twenty something's. The entire clientele who aren't regulars are all on some sort of "Blind Date" episode on pot. It's actually kind of cute.

I guess this rant has no point. I'm just writing about what I'm seeing and jotting down every immediate emotion that comes to mind as I observe the happenings. Nothing to be taken too seriously.

Salut!

2005-09-17T02:15:00.000-07:00

Those sentimental blog postings can always be a blight on an otherwise cliche-free work of the written word. The thing is that sometimes it's important to give that shout-out to some people that can truly make you remember that every night you have the chance, you should be living up what remaining time you have left to be irresponsible and fun-loving. This is such a toast.

To the "Toasters" and everything that they represent.

Jeremiah: Pure, unadulterated property damage and vodka-fueled mayhem.

Dennis: It's all about leaving an impression. However bad or good.

Kellan: If you don't introduce yourself, then how are they going do know how cool you are?

Abel: Dude, it's time to fuck this place up. Seriously.

Will: Calm the fuck down. We've not yet begun to drink.

A toast... to getting toasted. Because sometimes, partying in excess is nothing more than remembering how young we are rather than how old we are. Thanks for one crazy summer and many more insane times to come.

That old black garbage bag...

2005-09-15T13:54:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but it is impossible for me to give old clothing away. Scratch that: It is impossible for me to give old t-shirts away.

For awhile now, it's been brought to my attention that I have an unhealthy attachment to my past and everything related to it. Whether it is obsessing about a year where things were going perfectly (Sophomore year of college, 2000-2001) or of great moments in my dating history (The Cake concert t-shirt I bought for Amber that convinced her to go out with me), I am incapable of pitching it to the Goodwill curb. Why? I'm a revisionist and anything that seems to reinforce an altered view of my personal history is an ally that I can't seem to discard.

In theory, I should be cleaning out my wardrobe every five years, pitching whatever I haven't been wearing frequently or with love. The flip is that I would hate to lose something of such sentimental value as a t-shirt that seems to immediately resonate a period of happiness. So I simply set the shirt aside in a box and slide that box into the back of the closet to be opened again the next time I attempt to slim down my ample t-shirt collection. Maybe after a few years of this, I'll be mature enough to start discarding the jaded mess of nostalgia that I have chosen to hang in my memory.

Or I'll finally meet that "one superhero icon shirt for every day of the month" goal I set back when I was in college. Whichever.

"Wha' Happen'?"

2005-09-07T20:44:00.000-07:00

It came to my attention that I needed to split my blog up. Writing about my thoughts on pop culture and writing about myself were starting to become a little to... Inseparable. Now, there is "Powered by Pop Culture" and that will be where all of my posts concerning my interests and my reviews will be posted. If you'd rather listen to my pontificate and bemoan, you always know where to go. If not, "poweredbypopculture.blogspot.com" is where you should bookmark. Enjoy.

Happy Endings

2005-09-07T00:38:00.000-07:00

"So much for happy endings. Beginings are always more fun. True connoisseurs, however, are known to favor the stretch in between, since it's the hardest to do anything with. That's about all that can be said for plots, which anyway are just one thing after another, a What and a What and a What. Now try How and Why."

-Margaret Atwood
Happy Endings 1938

Is life about happy endings or just memories that could add up to a happy "so far"?

Dreams are something we strive for, but the greatest dream for anyone is a happy ending to their story. What always gets me in the end is that people don't really realize that life goes on. One needs to understand that life is a series of happy endings leading up to the happiest ending of all. Whatever happens, happens and then that's all she wrote.

How I learned to stop worrying and love the O.C.

2005-09-06T20:43:00.000-07:00

I can vividly recall the exact circumstances that led me to tune into the primetime soap experience titled, the "O.C." It was almost a year ago and I was reading a blog by Heidi McDonald, a comic book editor and commentator. Since apparently the show contained constant and slightly positive references to comic books, McDonald had started to run weekly columns reviewing the show.

The prospect of mainstream exposure for something that had always been a closet passion of mine slightly intrigued me. Also, subsequent information that one of the primary "O.C." writers was going to be involved in some upcoming comic titles that I was interested in reading continued to pique my interest. Thus, I decided to give the show a look. If for no other reason than just to know what the current pop culture impression of a "fanboy" was. Fortunately for me, my good friend, Kelly [see previous posts] was something of an "O.C." fanatic. Kelly knew the first season inside and out and had been following the second season religiously (right down to "Fight Club"-style rules of watching the show in her presence). Having someone who was up to date on subplots and characters was going to be a bonus. This, I thought, would allow me to study the show for my curiosity and not get lost in the myriad of melodramatic plot developments.

That night's particular episode was actually going to be about three of the characters trying to sell their own comic book idea to a major (and legitimate) comic book publisher. Elsewhere on the show, two other characters were breaking up while two female characters were hooking up. This is where Kelly was a big help. I had no idea what the hell was going on. From just the observations of a first-time viewer, The "O.C." was a cardboard cut-out teen soap opera, spiced up with for a jaded audience of teenagers with attention deficit disorder. I was wrong.

What I discovered was something unexpected: It turned out that the creators of the "O.C." had pulled one over on the Fox network. They had created a dramedy filled with well-written roles and winning dialogue under the veil of cliched primetime recycled "90210" plots and predictable, over-used cliffhangers. The actors and the writers of the show had crafted wholly watchable and engaging characters. No matter what else happened on the show, whether it be break-ups, ragers, infidelity, or maguffins, the moments where the players just got a chance to talk and interact with wit and charm, however briefly, made the entire episode worth watching. These moments could then draw you into the ham-fisted drama so you'd give enough of a care to "tune in" next week to find what "major" or "life-changing" moment of the season might occur. In short, the writing made you smitten with the characters and that kept you around past the teaser.

So what's it about? We'll start with Peter Gallegher since he has garnered some of the most acclaim that it has been bestowed on the show. This is due to his excellent portrayal of Sandy, the beleaguered patriarch of the Cohen family. He not only has to deal with his adopted son Ryan (played with brooding intensity by Ben McKenzie), a former juvenile delinquent that Sandy took in to try to help him have a future; Seth (played with rapid-fire geek exuberance by Adam Brody), his wayward, anti-social offspring who hates the plastic world of southern California and yearns for acceptance for his nerdness. Sandy's marriage to Kirsten (Kelly Rowan) involves him in all of the upper class drama of the community due to her coming from the affluent Nichol family. Also, her old high school flame, Jimmy Cooper, and his wife, Julie, are a constant cause of conflict. Marissa Cooper, their daughter, is the love interest of Ryan, while her best friend Summer is Seth's dream woman. That, in a nutshell, is the "O.C."

In short, nothing that television hasn't seen before. Some of the highlights of the interactions between these characters come from the relationship Sandy has with the boys, Seth and Ryan's dialogues about relationships, Summer and Seth's relationship ups and downs, and the marriage of Kirsten and Sandy. Everything they go through is to hold the family together. These interactions bring out the best in the writing staff and their ability to craft a scene with banter and
sincere dialogue that may not sound realistic, but is always charming.

But the comic book references? They are aplenty. Ryan and Seth, are actually well-portrayed comic book fans. Seth is rabid "fanboy" who rarely gets respect for his interests while Ryan is a passive aficiado who understands all of the trivia that Seth drops, but would never admit to being as into it as he is. Summer, Seth's love interest, has not only dressed up as Wonder Woman to try to win his affections, but has also shared a fan-favorite homage to Spider-man with a recreation of the upside-down kiss in the rain scene from the feature film. A previous character on the show, Anna (played by Samaire Armstrong), gave many rants about graphic novels versus comic books and even went so far as to make Seth a comic for Chrismukkah (don't ask).

Now, I'm just as cultured as the next 20-something, and would never recommend the "O.C." to anyone seeking quality television. I will, however, say I know why it isn't the blight on primetime schedules a la "One Tree Hill" or "Smallville". In their own way, Josh Schwartz, Allen Heinberg, et al and Ryan, Seth, Marissa, Summer, Sandy, Kirsten, Julie, and Jimmy are your corner bar's drink special. They're not good for you, and it's not even something you'd pass along to a friend, but it does make you feel good. When you're down, it's an escape that makes you feel a little better. Winning characters have this ability because they're almost like that acquaintance that always cheers you up.

Personally, I could care less if Ryan and Marissa ever got together or if Seth ever manages to make things work with Summer. These paltry little plot devices disguised as drama are not what makes this a worthwhile hour of TV. The characters, the actors, the dialogue, the sheer charm of the writing; this is what can truly draw you into this show. I'll continue to watch because just listening to them talk about these "events" is worth the black mark on my record of taste in entertainment.

It just occured to me...

2005-08-29T00:43:00.000-07:00

I've never been to Mardi Gras...

Thoughts on a genre

2005-08-25T20:04:00.000-07:00

It occurs to me that not many people are aware of the genre of British film known as, "gangster pictures." In America, we really don't have much for this genre. It gets folded into "film noir" or "action" or in the case of Scorsese or Coppola, "drama." Quentin Tarantino is probably the only writer director that has managed to rival the British gangster style with his mainstream work, and even then only with two of his films (Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction).

While we here in the U.S. may have seen some stateside remakes of classic imports from Great Britain (Italian Job, Get Carter, etc.), these pathetic "reinterpretations" are no match for the current slate of imports that are actually of the genre made by the team of Guy Ritchie and Matthew Vaughn.

To understand the appeal of this genre is to understand two problems that mainstream audiences have with the films when trying to view them: 1) the accents and the slang and 2) the complete lack of redeemable characters. These two complaints can be settled with the following rebuttals: 1) get cultured, you isolationist pricks and 2) welcome to the world of crime and criminals.

Given the fact that the actual concept of an anti-hero is lost on the mass audience, it doesn't seem to hard to grasp that they would have a hard time trying to figure out which character they're supposed to root for; trying to overcome the "lesser of two evils" approach to understanding. What should be kept in mind during the viewing of the British gangster genre is that, upon multiple viewings of the same type of movies, you'll begin to learn what is so fascinating about this particular type of film versus other action or dramatic pictures: criminals make better characters than cops. It's an unfortunate realization to come to in the current good vs. evil climate of world events, but, let's face it: the true depths of desperation and depravity that exist in the romanticized view of the gangster that was ingrained in cinema due to characters pioneered by American filmmakers during the forties and fifties. It has become slightly apparent that the British, while maybe coopting these archetypes, are almost taking them in new directions while American filmmakers are almost neutered to the idea of making a villain a protagonist.

That seems to be something that is lost in current crime drama, save for The Sopranos and the Shield on television, both of which are constantly under fire for there complete lack of "moral fiber" or "positive messages" from parent groups.

While viewing the latest offering from the U.K., Layer Cake, I was awe-struck at the level of depth given to the criminal underworld. It was almost a masterpiece of filmmaking... but then the reality sets in: you're dealing with characters that no one can support in a world populated by evil and the only thing you're hoping for is that the less-bad guys will be able to continue to profit from their dealings in drugs and violence.

If there is a more interesting two hours to be engrossed in, a genre more entertaining and stimulating, then please, speak up for that genre now. I don't think it exists in modern cinema.

the equation

2005-08-24T19:18:00.000-07:00

If we take:

and add:

mix with:

and throw in a dash of:

then maybe we'd be on the write track. Mixology for cynical romantics. Rah.

...Yup. Probably it...

2005-08-24T00:04:00.000-07:00

I know what it is. I'm in love with fiction. Romanticism is not a good constant. Let's see what we can do about that, shall we?

Thought Balloons

2005-08-21T15:03:00.000-07:00

I honestly wonder what would happen if everyone had their own thought balloons floating over their heads and only the illiterate would be unable to read minds. There'd probably legislation to control all of the "balloon traffic" that'd inevitable spring up. "Thought-proof" cars would be made to avoid decreased visibility during rush hour traffic. Hats to give each of your balloons different colors would be the talk of Europe, but fizzle out in popularity before really hitting it big in the US market. The United Nations meetings would need two sets of translators: one for what a representative is saying and another to read what they are thinking. The thought balloon fashion trend would be close to running out of steam until someone would come up with a way to give each balloon different text styles. Individuality restored to free thought, a boom would most likely hit where couples would not only meet and fall in love over what the other person thinks, but how they think in the same style. Of course, foreign languages would be "thought" in the right alphabet, but right when the UN budget is about to be broken due to double translators, special glasses will come out so people can read balloons in their own languages. World Peace and harmony will eventually occur twenty-two years after the thought balloon revolution hits its peak because everyone will have learned to avoid negative thoughts and in doing so, stop thinking negatively at all.

Some authors... sheesh...

2005-08-18T23:17:00.000-07:00

So the bitch of being someone with an overactive imagination and a love of certain genres of literature is that sometimes you just can't put down a good story. Whether it's an autobiography of a transvestite revolutionary or the six-hour version of Dune on a bootleg videotape, some of the smartest people I know have wasted entire days on getting through a single, enveloping story in one sitting. Me? I just blew four hours reading the new Alex Robinson graphic novel, Tricked. The story follows six characters and their peripherals as they all slowly begin to converge on the singular event they will inevitably share. The chapters descend instead of ascend to the climax of the book. Robinson, for those who've never heard the name, wrote the excellent and surprisingly well-paced Box Office Poison and his long-delayed follow-up, just like a musician trying to climb back from a one hit wonder record, has a degree of patience and growth that adds to his still constant grasp of dialogue, emotion, and terrific character studies translated to words and pictures. It's a good time.

Tricked is 19.99 and is the intimidating size of a small text book, but don't worry: there're plenty of pictures. It IS a graphic novel, after all.

Every once in awhile, it feels great to pimp this shit.

Here we are, born to be kings, we're the princes of the universe...

2005-08-15T00:36:00.000-07:00

I love that song. I miss being a kid and thinking that Highlander was the shit. Now, being this really critical movie guy makes me sit down and go, "well, that sucks. How derivative. Could they BE any less subtle?" I'm like Chandler if he was a Village Voice film critic. Shite.

In a sense, that's what we are, though. The "mispoche" that we've become. The "family we choose" as the Jews say. This group of people who bring something to the table and step up when it counts. In the end, we're masters of our own destiny (as corny as it may sound), but never a truer statement. We'll accomplish what we're capable of once we believe that we can do it.

So I've been writing essays again. I sat down and actually hashed two or three out. I'm debating posting them up here, but keep getting blindsided by two things: one, lots of typing, dammit. two, I'd actually like to make some type of collection of them and maybe submit it. If I do post them, I hope somebody gives me some power-ups and maybe I'll actually do it. Fuck that, I'll do it anyway.

{See that? Mid-sentence realization, right there. Gotta love writing from stream of consciousness.}

Living downtown now. Got my little slice of home in the NW Couch area. Living behind a bar, up from Powell's and down from 21st. I'm actually really excited about all of this. I actually start school again in a month. Since things are going so well, of course I've started to get all wacky and defensive again. *Sigh* Nothing if not predictable, my brain is.

I'm hoping this'll be the last 12am, random thoughts put to paper post that I do for awhile. While interesting to look back at, they're not all that interesting. It's mostly a chance for me to get my thoughts out on "paper" and see what I'm thinking.

I will say this, to end on a good note: I am not sad. I am not angry. I am not bitter. I am not depressed. All for of these things are very new to me in a situation like this and all self-deprecation aside, show that I'm growing. This is the good news. I'm excited about that.

Weddings

2005-07-25T18:40:00.000-07:00

So I thought I'd write something about the wedding party that pretty much ate up my life these last two weeks. The thing is that it was so amazing, so fun, so perfect and sappy and heart warming and boozed up, and high, and fueled by funkin'... that all I have to say is... pictures speak better than bad story-telling:

Many happy years for the lovely couple. Thanks to everyone who came and to every member of this whole fractured "family". We're it.

{Left to Right: Sloth, Kelly, Bentley, Dani, Kevin, Rachelle, Will, Lisa Deadly, Hollywood, JRobb, Kellan. Sitting: Sean and Emily}

Build a Better Mousetrap

2005-07-16T01:26:00.000-07:00

It's not like I only think about women, relationships, hating my job, and comics/movies. Seriously, I do have some, like, deep thoughts, man. Seriously.

About four or five times today, people I worked with asked if I was sad. Not, "are you ok?" but rather, "Why are you sad?" It made me uneasy. What type of vibe was I giving off that they just assumed I was miserable? Frankly, I don't hate my job. I don't even really mind it. I just don't like my boss. A lot. The job actually isn't that hard or painful or even boring. It's just the way that I feel things are run that make me not want to work there. This is why *gasp* I'll be quitting the bank soon. Once the wedding of Bentley has finished and Lisa Deadly is out of town, I'm back on the job hunt. I'll have moved out of Kevin's, be downtown, and pretty much be able to just stretch a little better regarding where I can go to seek work. Hope beyond hope, the car will be sold soon.

Here's the thing, if I could venture a guess as to why I might come off as truly melancholy: I think I get disappointed when I realize I don't have all that much control over where I've been and how I've gotten here. It's a weird philosophy to have when you look back over your life and feel helpless. It's weird because you have absolutely no control over your past. None. Obsessing about it only leads you in circles of frustration. The future is what you should focus on. If not that, then definitely the present. Letting the past govern you or your feelings seems to just "help" you make the same mistakes. That's just silly.

So next time you see me sad or you think I'm focusing on some silly thing from an eon ago that will never be changed (but WILL be repeated if I don't snap out of it), just slap me. Slap me hard across the side of the head. Just one good smack. If I get pissed at you, just say, "You were thinking about something other than bettering yourself. I could tell."

Singles

2005-07-11T22:43:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

Couldn't you have built me with an off-switch? Seriously, I talk too much. I talk past the point of no return. I just can't stop myself from listening to my brain. It just keeps coming up with ways to fuck me over. "Be afraid of this, be scared of that, LOOK! OVER THERE! FAILURE IF YOU DON'T ACT NOW!" It's like somewhere along the line, the wires of the mind that controlled bargain shopping and the synapses that controlled initial attraction got totally crossed and now I can't buy detergent worth a damn and can't not throw myself at a female in less than ten moves.

Yours truly,

Mike

P.S. Cameron Crowe is the official king of relationship and love quotes in movies. Rent "Singles" and you'll agree with me. That or demand your $1.99 back so you can just rent porn instead.

Couldn't God have made two?

2005-07-11T01:33:00.000-07:00

Why We Fight

2005-07-10T21:49:00.000-07:00

The mindset has changed.

After all of the work you put into something pretty much shows you it was all for naught, you begin to reevaluate how to perceive the principle of these... well, attempts at intimacy and friendship.

Many films and stand-up comedians have tried to hypothesize why men and women simply cannot be friends. The myth of platonic relationships seems more valid every day. Now, I'm not going to try to avoid sounding bitter here. I am, a little. The fact of the matter is that there are some x-factors in this philosophy. I have a few very close female friends, but frankly, I've either been attracted to them at some point or dated them and realized it worked better as friends or was never attracted to them at all. Why would you hang out with people who you didn't share interests or a connection with? And if said people were of the sex that you were attracted to, and there was a connection that existed, then wouldn't there be some type of sexual tension? Do you only hang out with men/women you don't find attractive? Honestly, this is just on my mind recently, so don't take it to heart and get all bent out of shape about it.

The last few months of singlehood have been pretty interesting. Not as depressing as I thought that they would be after being tossed out of the last relationship. The thing is that after awhile, it stops being painful. It just happens. You can still feel bad about it, and I will say that those days did occur, but the reality is that life moves you on so that you don't have to. I've had to face a great deal of things about my perceptions of intimacy and relationships that, frankly, I've been avoiding since I was 18. S'been... enlightening.

Is it just me, or are the two things that the general public, the average citizen, if you will, are most afraid of are sex and death? The two things that pretty much scare us the most are the act of expressing love/lust or ending our existence? It seems almost like we're so afraid of what will transcend us above our natural existence that we hide behind religion and escapism to be in total denial. We will all die and we will always want to fuck. This is the nature of life. The faster we learn this, the sooner we'll be able to talk about sex, frankly, and contemplate death without being goth about it.

These are the things that we fight about: Sex, death, sensitivity, loss, love, friendship, and the nature of relationships in general. Time to put up or shut up.

The World is a Vampire

2005-07-04T21:15:00.000-07:00

Actually, I'm not that big of a fan of the Smashing Pumpkins. Seriously, it just isn't my thing and I've always thought that Billy Corgan was a little TOO into Bozo the Clown.

"Stop thinking." That's what I'm going to try for awhile. It's like the Seinfeld episode where George does the opposite of what he usually does and all of a sudden becomes uber-successful. It's just sort of getting in my way and making me become obsessed with failure and what I've done wrong in my life.

I can't wait to quit the bank. I really can't wait to start school. I really, really can't wait to move downtown.

I think we're in for a change. A vengeful, violent, slaughtering of change that will take a slash across the last few months.

The world is a vampire, but that doesn't matter if you're a werewolf.

525, 600 minutes

2005-06-21T21:23:00.000-07:00

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Moments So Dear
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure - Measure A Year?
In Daylights - In Sunsets
In Midnights - In Cups Of Coffee
In Inches - In Miles
In Laughter - In Strife

I've never seen a production of RENT. There was a trailer for the film version (which looks great and I'm very interested in seeing it and/or the play) and the song, "Seasons of Love" was playing over the whole clip. It was really a great song and it made me think about what really can happen in a year. How do you measure a year?

It makes a good deal of sense. If I was to sit back and reflect on June of 2004, it would be a completely different world than this one. I didn't know Alicia, Kelly hated me, Will was moving away, I had nothing going on for me, I lived in my father's garage, and I wasn't even remotely happy with myself as a person.

To say things have changed is a pretty obvious statement. Here we are, not where we used to be. That's all the progress you need to make in a year.

The part of these lyrics that I honed in on was the part about HOW you measure that year. Do you measure them in the pain? Do you measure them in the nights spent out on the town? The days that you worked shitty jobs? The successes? The failures?

How do I measure progress in my own life? Obviously not by career or job growth, because that hasn't been all the that healthy during this time. Obviously not by finishing school, because we're just now getting around to that.

If I were to think about how I measured a year of progress, it'd be by the experiences that happen in that short time and what they mean. When your life gets too big to think about, what with feeling like you should be doing something else, constantly reveling in the mistakes and never moving forward, it's the little things that can help you measure a day or a week or a month in that year.

Right now, it's a conversation with Karl that let's me know just how good of friends we are. It's a night on the roof of a high rise with Kelly and Will, photographing an amazing, surreal storm over the horizon. It's a night on the town with Joey, picking up girls at bakeries and buying them coffee and losing to them at foosball. It's going to see Batman with my Dad, and feeling like we never stopped spending time together like father and son.

It's about the next step. That's how you measure the moments. One at a time.

Instant Pleasure by Rufus Wainwright

2005-06-10T21:47:00.000-07:00

I don't want somebody to love me
Just give me sex whenever I want it
'Cause all I ask for is instant pleasure
Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

You in the traffic for all eternity
How could that speed be where you want to be?
Said don't you really want instant pleasure
Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

Think that all these folks get laid?
Do it cause their pain is great?
What you thinkin' anyways?

If drinkin' coffee's your idea of really cool
You can't expect no crazy chick to notice you
Just sittin there dreamin' instant pleasure
Instant pleasure, instant pleasure
Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

If you want someone a friend to be
Guess you'll have to win the lottery
But till then repeat after me

I don't want somebody to love me
Just give me sex whenever I want it
'Cause all I ask for is instant pleasure
Instant pleasure, instant pleasure

Instant pleasure, instant pleasure
Instant pleasure, instant pleasure
I don't want somebody to love me
I don't want somebody to love me...

Into the Fire...

2005-06-01T23:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's about what you're thinking when you fall and hit the ground. The last thoughts to roll through your head before it hits the pavement... that's what really begs the questions. I have this theory that the afterlife is just a tapeloop of the final visions you have in your mind's eye before death. I don't think of this as hell, mind you, living out the rest of your existence in a constantly repeating loop of an echo... I think your life would continue in this fantasy moment from the final moment and for eternity. Think Vanilla Sky, but more Jason Lee and less Tom Cruise.

************************************************************************************

I realized after this amazing long weekend that two things matter to me: getting my shit together and the fact that I have an amazing band of friends.

The former sounds like something everyone says. "Gotta get my shit together about schoo/work/job/women..." It's true that it's way too often emphasized by the masses of 20-somethings that pontificate about their meandering existence... I was referring more towards dating and maybe trying to not be looking for anyone right now... at least not until I've, well, "Gotten my shit together."

Various experiences (not limited to this weekend) have shown me that my previous relationships were nothing, but utter failures largely due to the fact that I've lost a great deal of focus towards what I'm looking for in a woman. Even the amazing ones that I have the pleasure of dating, I feel I don't deserve. I force this horrible neurosis before them and they respond in one of two ways; try harder and fail or stop trying and getting while the gettings able to be blamed on me. Neither of these is something that they should be faulted for. If I could have gotten over some horrible insecurity that I was settling for them, I'd be able to contribute something to the relationship. My type of woman is something that I've only grasped onto the cusp of encountering and when the time comes and I have a smack of confidence about me, I'll be able to believe in myself enough to ask whoever she may be if she'd like to grab a second run movie and a cup of coffee with me.

As for the friends point... Saturday was nothing short of fantastic and almost brings me to tears thinking about. This is the first time in the history of my singlehood where my emotions post-break-up are not goverened exclusively by bitterness and lonliness, but by a sentimental appreciation and overwhelming love for the people that have truly shown that they care about me and are there for me when I need them. Whether it's buying me a case of beer or making some time to talk about what's going on with me or even putting me in my place so I don't let my miserable sense of self-defeating attitude corrupt what can only be referred to as, "that new better Mike that we're really getting used to having around." Between the benefits of Will challenging my negativity, the banter that Joey and I have made famous regarding ex's and movies and music, Kelly showing how much she lends to a group dynamic, Brent being more patient and open-minded than we deserve, Karl always up for anything even if he's sicker and more tired than he realizes, foosball games, dessert and coffee, the joy of tits, beautiful domicile rentals, annoying Saturday Market patrons, and toasts to the "next step." It's no wonder that I will wake up on a Tuesday morning and proclaim that we're "blessed" for having such a great time. I'm awash in an obnoxious sense of euphoric optimism about this group of people. I feel like all the time we've spent together has paid off... that we're finally that group of acquaintances that really loves to get together and just kick it and we all realize it collectively. That is a breakthrough that breaks through.

************************************************************************************

Batman Begins will rule.

Serenity will be just as amazing the second time.

Fantastic Four won't be that bad.

I'll love Mr. and Mrs. Smith more without a girlfriend.

That's it for summer predictions re: movies.

Kelly - The only real X-Girlfriend

2005-05-29T14:07:00.000-07:00

Previously on the OR...

Mike: "Say Anything, now that's a great romantic comedy. You should rent it."
Kelly: "I'll think about it."

M: "We should go out sometime."
K: "Yes, well, that'd be nice, maybe, yeah."

M: "Pretty girl...."

M: "It just isn't working out."
K: "But WE can work it out..."

M: "Kelly, this is Sloth."

M: "You guys would make a great couple."
K: "You wouldn't think that was weird?"
M: "Weird? Nah."

M: "I LOVE YOU! I CAN MAKE THIS WORK NOW!"
K: "Michael, it's too late."

M:"Friends?"
K: "We'll see..."

And that right there is the pseudo-recap for my temultuous relationship with Kelly Armstrong. Probably the number one thing that I always appreciate about this girl, during the times I dated her and the times we were at odds and the times currently, is the fact that she has one of most infectuously, unabashedly honest constitutions I have ever come across. Also, she possesses one of the biggest hearts.

My relationship with Kelly has always been one of insecurity and uncertainty. I wasn't sure if I loved her, I wasn't sure if I wanted to break up with her, I wasn't sure if hooking her and Sloth up was a good idea, and I wasn't sure if having her hate me for a year was not without merit. I was a bad boyfriend and a really, really bad ex-boyfriend.

The thing is that she is the number one person you want on your side, in your corner. She looks out for her friends, loves meeting new people (though she may not say anything that first time) and has a great deal of enthusiasm for new things and little misadventures. She'll call you out and tell you to, "get the fuck over it," but say it in such a way that you're not hurt or defensive. She's calling you out because she loves you and she understands your pain, but wants you to move on. Wallowing is for wallowers.

If I could only be on good terms with one Ex, if only one girl that I'd dated, loved, and lost could still be a close, best friend... I'd choose her. Not for any "un-requited, one day we'll get another chance" -thing (trust me, her and Sloth deserve eternal happiness), but because we know each other, trust each other, and, sometimes, even like spending time with each other.

And I said "big heart" back there? The biggest. Probably the only girl I know who doesn't hate other girls for stupid reasons amounting to petty jealousy. She treats everyone with love and friendship.

Oh, and she got me hooked on the O.C. Maybe for that... I don't really owe her.

Yes I'm from Portland

2005-05-22T22:16:00.000-07:00

About 24 years ago, my parents decided that having sex on the kitchen table of their little rented house in SE Gladstone sounded like a good idea. I wish I could have been in the room (outside of the womb at least) when Mom dropped the ball that Dad and her were officially expecting. Now, my mother's not the most rational person or the most level-headed so I'm sure that the revelation that they're were soon to be parents probably rivaled the death of a loved one in tears shed and screams uttered. My father probably thought that having a child with this woman he'd just recently married and nursed through a nevrous breakdown might have been the best way to keep his blushing bride on the the path to recovery and mental stabilty. Regardless, nine months later I was there breathing my first breaths of Portland air and promptly coughing a lot. That should have been a sign of impending addiction to a city that rarely returns the love you put into it. Living in this city at 24 with no degree and less direction is like dating a self-centered, naive slob of a woman that thinks she's modest when in actualilty she's the most conceited post adolescent ever to hit drinking age. Meaning, it's like loving someone that doesn't have the time to return it, but promises to get around to it eventually.

In a sense, it's why it's hard to find your way in this city unless you have money or a goal. Two things that not everybody in this day and age seems to have a surplus of. You make lists in your head of ways you think you'll be able to succeed (I've always like to refer to them as "hair-brained schemes") and when those plans have the tendency to eventually fail, you tend stop trying to dig your heels in to figure out a new one.

What I've always found hilarious about Portland lies in its constantly evolving identity crisis. Over in NW 23rd we have approximately twelve blocks of an attempt to copy the Beverly Hills coffee shop and high-priced cloth scene. Down in the Pearl District, it's basically the O.C. meets the club scene. Belmont, Hawthorne, and Woodstock are all areas of town where the hipsters have tried to carve out a niche of the city to call their own and make magazine covers and travel guides. The pattern here is that the city wants to be a less glamorous California neighborhood and citizen population that wants to be what Seattle and San Francisco have forsaken: a counter-culture paradise.

For every Bar 71 and Barracuda that seems to have sprung up, Pied Cow, Voodoo Doughnut, Dante's, and the Shanghai Tunnels still hold their ground as the actual places to patron on a Saturday night. The only difficulty that seems to be developing is that the two scenes clash in such a harsh light that it's almost like gentrification with the hip scene pushing the upstarts out to the outer rims of the East side to stake their claim. With the Pearl district firmly planting a flag that claims territory between NW 23rd and Chinatown (which is still a wretched hive of scum and villany, thank god).

The trick about Portland seems to be that you actually need a counter culture handbook in your own city. Chuck Paulanick's (?) Fugitives and Refugees is among many pocket guides that highlight hidden treasures that no one who lives here on a daily basis has managed to accumulate themselves over X number of years actually living here. The one thing you'll hear most from someone trying to partake in something new and trendy in this town is, "I just heard about this new ____" thus illustrating how no one just goes out and finds these places on their own: they just go read Portland Citysearch.

Past Poisons by Patrick Park (alliteration WOW!)

2005-05-17T21:45:00.000-07:00

I pull up your drive and I lay on the horn.
Cling to the bottle that’s keeping me warm.
Sweet whiskey Jesus I wish I weren’t born.
You get up to leave and you hear in the dark,
Those early evening arrows missing their mark.
‘Cause they’re out to get you, but they don’t have the heart.
You’re just another one of last summer’s dreams,
Your eyes are blue, and your seas are green.
Some small consolation you get for a while
So drink down your sorrows and their crooked ass smiles
If you want me you know where I’ll be
Putting past poisons gently to sleep.
If you want me you know where I’ll be
Putting past poisons gently to sleep.
There’s a fire inside that makes your blood run.
The lovers who love you smell your smoke from your gun.
You keep your confusion to your hell made for one.
You’re just another one of last summer’s dreams,
Your eyes are blue, and your seas are green.
Some small consolation you get for a while
So drink down your sorrows and their crooked ass smiles
If you want me you know where I’ll be
Putting past poisons gently to sleep.
If you want me you know where I’ll be
Putting past poisons gently to sleep.

I was almost good...

2005-05-17T02:48:00.000-07:00

"Actually, we're going out."

And with those words, I think I had my first panic attack since the Kelly/Sloth fiasco of '03.

Listen, these blogs are basically a place where people post what's on their mind and, unless worded carefully, can receive reams of shit for it. So I'll put this delicately: I have never been this hurt and it takes all I have (and about 8 hrs of OC dvds and Hefe beer) to be able to keep myself going into tomorrow.

There is one thing though and that's that I have the best friends anyone could ask for. Kevin, Will, Kelly, Lisa, Karl, Burton, Alex, Emily... All of you guys. You each have your own way of being there for me. After a shitload of sarcastic melodrama fiction I can say that I couldn't create the spirit of friendship that you as a group can heap on me.

Quotes of the day: "Y'know why they're called 'gay men?' Because they're happy!" - Me, "Every relationship consists of four people: the people who are in it and the people who are waiting on the sidelines for them to get out of it" - Will, "They're just life support systems for vaginas." - My dad.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled rants and nonsense writing.

well, that was fun.

2005-05-02T08:48:00.000-07:00

So I'm of the mind right now that hanging out with your engaged friends while single is the same thing as a recovering alcoholic spending six hours in a blues bar with a sign in front of you reading, "Rehab is for quitters."

This in no way is to be an afront to Kevin or Bentley, but seriously: if you've just gotten out of a 9 month relationship with a woman that you were, at one time, madly in love with only to watch it fizzle up towards the end, spending time with the "we just bought a house together!" and the "oh, you just drove 88 miles spend 6 hours with me before turning around and driving back!" would probably be a wholly masochistic experience.

Will and I had a couple of conversations on the subject between cavity inducing scenes of affection where we waxed realistically about how since the two of us both got out of confusing and slightly frustrating relationships, maybe we should A) just try actually dating for once, B) work on finding something we like in our lives that makes us happy that does not have breasts, and C) distancing our time spent with those in the Ozzie and Harriet in training sect.

Again, it's nothing personal to these four great people we know, but the difference between hanging out with Brent+1 and Kevin+1 and hanging out with say, Sloth and Kelly is that one set of people is wholly in love with their coupledom because it feels to them (and in all honesty, they're right about this feeling) like they're about to make a leap they are truly sure of regarding love and life and, for the moment, the promise of happiness and adulthood as a result leaves them in a euphoric state that is akin to rolling on E. Sloth and Kelly meanwhie, are the archetypical urban 20-something couple (this is only my head, mind you, so I understand if you disagree). They're two people, passionatley in love, yet very mellow about their actual relationship and their own directions. They're not hung up on their careers or their impending nuptuals (they're not even engaged yet and they've been dating for almost 2 years . More than Brent and Kevin), they're just enjoying the daily grind and the fact that they have a partner to deal with it with.

I think I'd like that.

Serenity

2005-04-27T01:10:00.000-07:00

http://www.hellmouthcentral.com/video/serenity_m480.mov

Follow my instructions: Right click on this link, Save target as..., Download to desktop, play with QuickTime player, lather, rinse, repeat.

The only guaranteed movie this year that will rule the board.

You can't stop the signal.

PS:
The abstract relationship issues previously referred to in this journal do not pertain to one person, but to the character of a book called Box Office Poison by Alex Robinson. Read it and you'll understand.

Feel this Post

2005-04-26T00:44:00.000-07:00

We all die alone.

See? Bummer, isn't it? Just the fact that that thought is free floating in the consciousness of the non-religious society is enough to make me go out and find Jesus in my couch cushions.

My bed is officially half-covered in crap again. That's usually the first sign that I'm single. The second is trolling the dating websites. The third is asking friends if they no anybody I'd like. The only difference between all those other times and this time? Well, actually, until today there was no difference. I've... already done all three of those things. BUT THIS TIME! This time, I had this realization. See, the depression and the loneliness collided, thus canceling each other out and, voila! I see the inherent flaw in loneliness and I see what it creates in me, thus making me appear so desperate. I see that the trolling and the begging only further a person that I really don't think I am anymore.

That's actually a good part of this break-up: It was the first one that didn't break me. I thought that was going to be Kelly, but instead... yeah... it was this.

Weird.

I'm seriously floating.

Bullet in the Head.

2005-04-25T00:26:00.000-07:00

I think that the real problem with this whole situation called the Mid 20's can be summed up in the fact that no one, ever, in their entire life, has any idea what they're doing. Our parents sure didn't and to this day, I've never seen parents that do. When you hit your 20's it becomes very apparent that you'll never be your parents, but damned if you can't believe how your parents aren't even the adults they thought they were when they lectured you on direction, responsibility, and ambition.

So far this year, I've seen a friend's dad fired from his comfortable, perfect, much-earned job only to be doing the same treading water, what now?, dance that we all do during unemployment. I've seen another friend who didn't really know his father that well get a sobering experience of living with him in his neurosis and psychosis and denial. I've seen another friend realize her mother is nothing more than her older sister, absent of any concern or maternal care that parents seem to unload on their kids when they need it and especially when they don't. These are just three people close to me, but they're experiences show me that when you hit your 20's, it can be all downhill emotionally even if it's all uphill direction-wise.

In other news:

Unemployed again. Fired from the temp agency, no less. No hard feelings, just a sore spot for the whole market. Time to put my face to the stone and do my own dirty work.

No more Alicia. At least not in the girlfriend catergory. It's been a long time coming and that's why I'm not too broken up over it. Maybe we'll be friends eventually. If Kelly and I can put aside all of the shit we put each other through, then I'm sure I can find some common ground with Alicia. Eventually.

Here's a tangent: Why do we allow the things we know we can't stand about a person to be masked by our undying, unflailing desire to never be alone? They're a slob, selfish, uninterested, narcisistic, but still, we look to their good points and say, "But I love them despite all that other stuff." It's a hard life to lead when everything falls apart around you and you have nowhere to go. I appreciate my friends for making this a transition that hasn't eaten me alive like so many others have.

Will: You're the fortune cookie giving me hope, false or not.

Kelly: You're always on my side. I don't deserve you.

Kevin: Best. Roommate. Ever.

Karl: The buddy I need in a pinch.

Jane: Still taking me back when I'm a total jackass.

Lisa: Just knowing you're there. That helps me more than you know.

That's what you need when the shit falls apart. Family. I'm sure I'll freak out eventually. Have some crazy manic episode and go shit-nuts about how I've landed in this crap situation surrounded by debt, unemployment and no idea what I'm doing. That could happen, or maybe this is when it'll all change. Will has a great job, so does Brent. They worked and slaved and tried as hard as they could and ended up with everything they needed. Who knows what'll happen to me.

Cheers. Peace. Fuck all.

So I died and came back to life... depressed still.. HA!

2005-04-06T23:50:00.000-07:00

Let's face some pretty obivious facts for a moment, shall we?

1) I still can't type worth a damn.

2) I'm still neurotic as fuck when it comes to women.

3) I will always have my friends.

So, here I am, single again. Alicia and I broke up... again... I think... we haven't really confirmed that... but I'm pretty sure and if it hasn't happened, it should. I'm usually only as miserable and confused as I seem to be lately when I'm single, not when I'm dating. Dunno what happens next.

I am...

2005-01-30T13:17:00.000-08:00

Which John Cusack Are You?

Alicia's reply

2004-12-09T14:55:00.000-08:00

People must be free to make their own mistakes.
Although your advice is given in honest earnest, and with best intentions in mind, no one's advice can ever substitute for the genuine learning experience of a huge screw-up. Granted, offering your best advice can free you from liability; if something goes terribly wrong, at least you did all you could do.
But it is important to recognize and appreciate "all you can do," and although part of being a good friend is offering your sincere suggestions, another very important part of being a good friend is sticking by your Tried-And-Trues through their largest mistakes, _and_ their refusals to take your good advice. A good friend will do what they can to steer their loyal compatriates away from harm; an excellent friend will still be there after the storm to bring their friend in out of the rain without condescension or reproach.
It may be tempting to withdraw advice entirely when it rarely seems useful or effective; but in many ways, the use of advice lies not in the issue it most obviously appears to address, but rather in the expression of care and concern from one person to another. Although advice may not be taken; it rarely goes entirely unappreciated. Advice is emotive; strong advice is passionate - and even if your subject believes you are wrong, he will surely believe in your best intentions... something that cannot be conveyed through passive agreeance. The advice-offer/rejection dance is a very special and privileged quality of a close and meaningful friendship, something that should not be forgotten.
In conclusion, please reconsider your decision to "not offer real advice" to your friends anymore; and for God's sake, don't lie and say that it isn't out of "frustration."
And post this on your blog if you please, because I think it is a useful piece of advice. (wink.)
Love,
Alicia

Why?

2004-12-09T13:50:00.000-08:00

I'm becoming more and more convinced that Ambrose Bierce was accurate in his definition of advice. He referred to it as, "the smallest current coin." What that basically means is that it's worthless. The penny has more value than advice.

Over the last few weeks, between my girlfriend and my best friend, I think I have shared my opinion about possible decisions, goals, and ambitions over 200 times. Now, the difference here is that in a relationship your significant other will stop for a second, think about it, and listen (because that's what makes relationships so great) and sometimes they'll even utter the words, "no, you're right." Friends, on the other hand, really don't like to do that. No matter what the sex, friendship advice is worth even less than Bierce's general definition of advice.

When someone doles out some advice, they do it for two reasons: 1) a self-righteous sense of "knowing better" or 2) a "been-there-done-that" type of scenario where one person knows what the other is going through from personal experience.

I'm of the mind that people should listen to their gut about 5%, their family 15%, their friends 30%, and common sense for the rest. The friends beat out the family because, let's face it, you hit a certain age and you realize your parents know jack and shit. Your friends are the people who are always there for you. They've known you for a long time, they've held your hand through ever rough patch and they are always, ALWAYS, in the business of looking out for you just as they expect you to do the same.

I guess what I'm trying to say... is that I give up. I know this sounds like something I've said before... I have... I just sincerely give up on giving real advice to my friends... They'll do what they want to, marry who they feel like, move to Hell and Damned, and not look back... I'll never be able to preemptively save them from a mistake or stop them from doing something stupid. For some people... doing something stupid is what they live for. The adventure of it all...

I'm not bitter and this post is not in anger or frustration... I'm just a little disappointed. The principle of the whole dynamic gets lost somewhere. Hm.

I really can't understand anything...

2004-11-04T23:01:00.000-08:00

So we'll get the election stuff out of the way post haste: Goddammit. Shit. Fuck.

Now, on to the rest of the world:

where have i been? hiding under rocks, closing the blinds, ignoring the phone... basically the funk. i hit the wall over working for my dad. it was a harsh realization and i didnt really know what to do with my life.... i mean, shit, who knows that? even at 45? you're telling me you have a grasp on your entire future right now? and youre sure? Nah. Liar. Relationships and jobs

So the thing is... that life likes to play cruel tricks on all of us. Christians call this, "the Lord testing us" or just part of his "great plan." Personally, that's a bunch of bullshit, but that's a rant for another time.I look at my friends and loved ones... I see the drama in their lives, whether it's real or imaginary... whether it's them dealing with their "relationship-problem-of-the-hour" problems or actually having a real crisis of faith or sanity. I have my own, but it never seems as bad as any of my close acquaintances, so I rarely try to make a big deal about it. I try to be there for them, though, because I don't want them to ever feel alone. It comes down to being a friend for the sake of being a friend, and not looking to get anything out of it.

Right now, I have this one friend, he's dating this one girl. I don't like her. In fact, I really don't like her. So I told him so. That's really all i can do. I do it as his friend, not 'cause I know whats best for him. I dont. I just have an opinion and I'm looking out for him.

This was a very... cobbled together post to get me back into the groove. very little beat... bad punctuation and grammer and spelling...

gr.

and another thing!

2004-10-01T11:15:00.000-07:00

This quote is so true. I watched the debates on Thursday night and this is exactly the feeling Alicia and I got:

"Last night, I'm afraid, the president looked like a man who showed up for a nine-minute debate and was terrified to find it was a 90-minute debate," said Sen. Patrick Leahy, D-Vt. "After nine minutes he'd run out of Karl Rove's one-liners."

Amazing. I felt like I was watching Student Body President elections back in High School.

Eat shit, Bushmen...

2004-10-01T10:25:00.000-07:00

Kerry Seen As Debate Winner Around World

By THOMAS WAGNER, Associated Press Writer
LONDON - Sen. John Kerry (news - web sites) scored points against President Bush (news - web sites) on the Iraq (news - web sites) war during their televised debate, but both men avoided the kind of gaffe that could be a turning point in the presidential election, international analysts and media said Friday.
Whatever the early verdicts were, one thing was clear: the debate attracted a lot of viewers overseas. In Europe, many people had to stay up past 4 a.m. to see the whole debate, and it was not even shown in some Asian countries until Friday morning.
In France and Germany, which opposed the Iraq war, Kerry's promise of a multilateral U.S. foreign policy was welcomed.
Germans could not help noticing that Kerry's stand on the Iraq war and his opposition to unilateral attacks is closer to Berlin's stance, Gernot Erler, a senior lawmaker with German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder's Social Democrats, told n-tv television.
In France, results of a pre-debate poll said nearly 90 percent of French favor Kerry, and one analyst said the reasons why are obvious.
"We are in a logic of 'Anything but Bush,'" Andre Kaspi, an expert on the United States at Paris' Sorbonne University, told the daily newspaper La Croix.
"There is no doubt that international support for the United States has fallen a lot in the last four years — in France particularly, but this is a global trend and it is also very strong in the Arab world."
During the debate, Kerry accused Bush of leaving U.S. alliances around the world "in shatters" and said that as president he would try to win more international support for the war.
In Russia, Italy and Sweden, media Web sites declared Bush's Democratic challenger the winner in the debate, but some said that may not be enough for a comeback in the polls.
"It wasn't a knockout victory, but Bush was groggy afterward," analyst Wolfgang Hansson told Sweden's leading tabloid, Aftonbladet.
Kerry "won more points," said Stephan Strothe, a commentator on Germany's N24 news channel.
"Kerry seemed to show that he had the stuff to be president. He had more facts in his head, and he was able to explain his position in Iraq," Strothe said. "He is back in the race."
London's Financial Times portrayed it as more of a draw, but one that did not seem to immediately benefit Bush.
"There was no single moment which sealed the debate for one man," correspondent James Harding wrote on the paper's Web site.
Citing early polls, he said Bush failed to put Kerry away.
Kerry claimed during the debate that Americans have been left with an "incredible mess in Iraq."
Bush said Kerry's varying positions about the war have left American troops wondering how they could follow him as their president.
Kerry also questioned Bush's handling of North Korea (news - web sites) and Iran, two countries suspected of pursuing nuclear weapons programs.
In addition, the two presidential candidates debated the situation in Russia, with Kerry saying President Vladimir Putin (news - web sites)'s crackdowns during the war on terror have been excessive.
In South Korea (news - web sites), analysts said the debate showed that Bush and Kerry both favor a tough stand against North Korea's nuclear weapons program. Experts in Seoul said the debate indicated neither would have much patience for delays by North Korea in dismantling its nuclear facilities.
Still, Iraq dominated the debate, and many see that as the election's turning point issue.
Christian Hacke, a political science professor at the University of Bonn, Germany, said observers must remember that opposition to the Iraq war is much stronger in Europe than in the United States.
"Many Europeans forget that there is a war climate in the U.S., and that emotion can be more important than reason," Hacke said.
"So while Kerry may have convinced the world, he may not have convinced the U.S., because words like 'determined' and 'steadfast' used by Bush play on the emotions of many Americans in this war climate."
Reporting from the debate site in Florida, the British Broadcasting Corp. headlined the analysis on its Web site: "No knockout blow."
It said Kerry struck "some serious blows against the president in his handling of the war in Iraq," but that Bush "didn't make any serious gaffes that could have left a serious opening for the challenger."
In Russia, analyst Alexander Kremenyuk said, "Frankly speaking, for an acting president, Bush looked quite weak. He was defending himself. He wasn't attacking much. ... At some points, he had to justify himself."
Some Asian viewers also saw Kerry come out ahead.
"I don't think President Bush did such a good job on the issues. He seemed to waver," said auditor Rob Liew, a critic of the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq who watched the debate while sipping coffee in Singapore.
Interest in the U.S. race is high in Asia, where countries such as Japan, South Korea and Singapore support the U.S. policy in Iraq.
China did not comment on the U.S. presidential race, but Beijing clearly is interested in the candidates' stands on Taiwan — a topic which did not come up in the debate.

Let's talk about Sloth...

2004-09-30T11:35:00.000-07:00

Sloth

I met Sloth about two years ago when I was in my exile in West Linn. I had moved back home and gotten a job at the video store with Joey being my boss. Sloth was friends with some of his friends... so on and so on. We bonded over comic books and movies and his hilariously sad personal life. His family was like some warped version of the Family Guy meets the Osbournes but Sloth's in on the joke. He's seriously the smartest person in his entire family tree and that is sad and incredible at the same time.

Sloth's story is a long one filled with half-starts and near misses, but my story with him mostly centers on him being a pet project a la Clueless where Alicia Silverstone tries to make Brittaney Murphy cool and popular. The only difference is that Sloth was already cool, I just had to let people know this. So I dragged him to comic book shows, midnight movies, and big Shari's sessions, always trying to get him to regale us with his hilarious anecdotes about dating strippers and nearly getting deported from Japan. The thing was that I could never figure out why any girl wouldn't be after this guy. He was talented, sweet, caring, and very funny. He was incapable of spite or bitterness, and he never let himself offend anybody. He wasn't ugly or gangly or scarred... He was Sloth.

Women began pretty much taking advantage of him after awhile. Two certain girls in particular, on two seperate occasions, used his emotions like bouncy balls ricocheting back and forth between liking him and just needing a shoulder to cry on and cuddle with, but at the eleventh hour not wanting anything to do with him. This infuriated me. Here was this amazing friend of mine who just needed a girl with similar interests and personality... enter Kelly.

The story between myself, Sloth, and Kelly is such old news and has been told so many times, that it's never worth repeating again, but I will say that in the end, they became an amazing couple and I'm very happy for them.

Sloth is by far one of those friends who rarely needs gratitude or vilifacation. He'll do something nice for you and then still do you a favor. He'll go above and beyond the request of a copy of a DVD and make you individual menus and sometimes even a cover. He'll remember movies you like and come up with something special that didnt take long to do, but has that whole "its the thought that counts" smell all over it. The thing is? He'll never ask a thing for it or anything. Seriously.

That's Sloth: a friend that can stick with you through anything, and never ask anything of you. He'll always be there to help you and you'll never use him... because he's just too nice of a guy and too fucking cool.

Thanks, man.

Spotlight posting

2004-09-30T11:27:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite comic book writers is a guy named Geoff Johns. One of the reasons why Johns has become so popular is his ability to handle large casts of characters and still make each one stand out and have an individual personality. His principle way of doing this in a serial format is having a "spotlight" or "profile" issue of the comic. One entire issue will focus on one villain or supporting character and will allow the audience to learn something about them that couldn't be shown in the actual arc of a multi-issue set of stories due to space or whatnot.

With that aside, I've decided to start doing little "spotlight" posts on the people in my life. This'll pretty much only occur when I have had some experience with them that made me go, "damn, that person is really great." So don't feel like, "hey, you never write about me" or "you wrote about her before me? You've known me forever." I'll try to use nicknames to avoid too much familarity, but y'know what? Fuck it. I'm not going to say anything that isn't true and I'm focusing on the positive, so no one should be offended.

Off we merrily stumble...

songlists

2004-09-28T17:29:00.000-07:00

Mix CD #1

1. Postal Service - Such Great Heights
2. Gavin DeGraw - Chariot
3. Dexter Freebish - Prozak
4. Ryan Adams - Rescue Blues
5. Bob Schnieder - Big Blue Sea
6. Remy Zero - Fair
7. Kim Richey - Can't Lose Them All
8. Alexi Murdock - Orange Sky
9. Josh Radin - Winter
10. Counting Crows - Holiday in Spain
11. Frou Frou - It's Good to be in Love
12. Joshua Rouse - Sparrows over Birmingham
13. Malcolm Mclaren - About Her
14. Jack Johnson - Losing Hope
15. Counting Crows - St. Robinson and his Cadillac
16. Shivaree - Goodnight Moon
17. The Who - Baba O'Reily
18. Eve 6 - Think Twice
19. The Cardigans - No Sleep
20. Say Hi to your Mom - But She Beat my High Score

Mix CD #2

1. Everclear - Songs from an American Movie Pt. 1 Intro
2. Reindeer Section - You Are My Joy
3. Mute Math - Control
4. Green Day - Boulevard of Broken Dreams
5. Third Eye Blind - Crystal Baller
6. Live - Out to Dry
7. Homeboy - Adorable
8. Smithereens - A Girl Like You
9. The Getaway People - There She Goes
10. The Wallflowers - Closer to You
11. Something Corporate - Drunk Girl
12. Shawn Mullins - What is Life
13. Mick Jagger - Visions of Paradise
14. Butthole Surfers - Dracula from Houston
15. Everclear - Unemployed Boyfriend
16. Matt Nathanson - Laid
17. Alien Ant Farm - Glow
18. Eels - Fresh Feeling
19. Rise Against - Swing Life Away
20. Kim Richey - A Place Called Home
21. Bob Dylan & Van Morrison - Crazy Love

Yeah... So I've become Mix Tape guy again...

Eclectic and unholy mixes of songs that string together emotion and sentiment and sometimes, just sometimes, actually sound pretty good. Playlists that make people cringe just looking at the titles and others sit there and go, "hey, i know those guys, but i've never heard of..."

Quote from High Fidelity:
"The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don't wanna blow your wad, so then you got to cool it off a notch. There are a lot of rules..."

So right...

Declaration...

2004-09-28T10:19:00.000-07:00

{Alexander Payne is one of the leading indie directors in Hollywood. His films include Citizen Ruth, Election, and About Schmidt. His style is considered the living description of "brutally honest" and is recognized as uncompromising. This essay originally appeared in Variety and was republished on www.joblo.com and is used without permission.}

Declaration of Independents

By Alexander Payne

At a meeting of non-aligned nations during the Cold War, Fidel Castro made the dry observation, "In reality there are only two non-aligned nations: the United States and the Soviet Union." I often recall that quote when asked about American independent cinema, for I think on one level the only true independents are Paramount, Sony, Warner Bros., Universal and the rest of the major studios. Say what you want about their imprisonment by corporate edicts and market forces; only they can make whatever they choose, and only they enjoy assured distribution.

Of course, "independent cinema" has come to mean so many things. Endless conferences and publications attempting to get a handle on American independent cinema -- what it is, whether it exists, whether it's dying or thriving -- dance around what for me is the central issue: that the source of the financing is unimportant. Cinema is independent only to the degree that it reflects the voice of one person, the director (in conjunction with his or her hand-picked creative team). Martin Scorsese now makes studio films that cost $100 million, and no one questions his independent credentials. And at Sundance we see low-budget features whose only message is "Hire me."

I want two simple things of our cinema -- that it be comprised of a large percentage of films that reverberate the voices and hearts of the filmmakers, for that is how film is always at its best. Second, I want a cinema that is intelligent, uplifting and human, and that serves -- as good art should -- as a mirror, not as an impossible or fraudulent consumer-oriented projection. After all, what good is a story that does not somehow add another piece to the infinite jigsaw puzzle that is human experience? What good is a story that does not somehow connect people?
As a working American director -- a Hollywood director, no less -- I resent the cleft between what we consider studio movies and independent movies. I want and expect studios to finance personal, risky and political cinema -- as they did in the much-vaunted 1970s -- and I am overjoyed because I no longer think this a naive dream. I think it's starting to happen right now.
For some 25 years we've had American movies but not movies about Americans. For 25 years we've largely been making not films but rather glorified cartoons which can be as easily digested in Omaha as on a bus in Thailand; films whose principal message is, We need your money to keep our stock price up; films that exploit banality and violence as come-ons to the lowest angels of our nature; films based on formula so they can be consumed as readily and predictably as McDonald's hamburgers. We've turned away from the need and utility of art in favor of impersonal product to maximize profits and at the tremendous, tragic expense of our culture. There have been many wonderful exceptions, but I speak of trends.

But look at this great year for movies! We have "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," "Maria Full of Grace," "Before Sunset," "Fahrenheit 9/11" and the rest of the documentaries in theaters, "Spider-Man 2," "Shrek 2," Tarantino, Alfonso Cuaron doing "Harry Potter." This fall we have David O. Russell, Wes Anderson, Mike Nichols, Steven Soderbergh, Brad Bird's "The Incredibles," Brad Silberling's "Lemony Snicket." Fold in the American distribution of Almodovar, Walter Salles, Zhang Yimou, and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. If they don't all turn out to be great films, at least we can discern a strong trend of cinema -- big and commercial as well as small and personal -- aspiring to be human, intelligent, respectful of the audience and director-driven. More big commercial films are being entrusted to stong and thoughtful directors, and more studios are planning their own versions of Fox Searchlight and Focus.

Why now? I see two obvious reasons -- the same that we saw decades ago. First, when the beast is dying, it seeks new blood. Maybe we can't point directly to a "Paint Your Wagon," but when studios offer up increasing numbers of big-budget dirigibles that tank, they look for solutions outside traditional decision-making boxes. And maybe we can't yet point to an "Easy Rider" or a "Midnight Cowboy" as a watershed film, but when "Fahrenheit 9/11" makes whatever it's going to make, or when "Lost in Translation" costs $4 million and makes almost $50 million, well, there are signs that, given creative control, directors -- many of them newer and younger -- might be in the best position to serve the contemporary audience.

Second, of course, the world is going to hell these days. As the saying goes, when small men cast long shadows, the sun is going down. Most likely things are going to get worse before they improve. When confused and troubled, people look to art in general and cinema in particular for context, for clues about who we are and where we've come from and where we might be going. Whether Bush and his corrupt gang are reelected or not -- and especially if they are -- these times ensure increased demand for films with human and political content.

Art is all we have to combat the fearsome, awful animal side of man that today controls events. To portray real people with real problems, real joys, real tears will serve as a positive political force, a force for comfort and possibly for change. With the inhumanity forced upon us by governments and terrorists and corporations, to make a purely human film is today a political act. To make a film about disenfranchised people is a political act. To make a film about love is a political act. To make a film about a single human emotion is today a political act. And bad things happen when good people fail to speak up.

Intelligence and humanity should not be "specialty" items. Imagination, artistry and risk-taking are as essential to big-budget commercial films as they are for the emerging filmmaker. Our studios may now wish to invest in a greater number of less expensive films and enjoy the profits of volume rather than always starving the small and medium films in order to feed the increasingly mercurial "tentpole" beast. And we filmmakers must be disciplined and keep our costs as low as possible in order to deserve the risks that define our finest filmmaking nature.
We have the potential for a new era where studios and filmmakers come together as they have not in a generation, and we have the chance to define a new age in a new century. I hope years from now my optimism will have been warranted, for I know that if our studios identify the signs and act, they have today the exceptional opportunity not merely to co-op "independent"

filmmakers but to assume themselves the mantle of true "independents."

I am...!

2004-09-28T09:30:00.000-07:00

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Purism

2004-09-22T13:02:00.000-07:00

I've been accused of being a purist. The funny thing is that I had to look that up in order to clarify what I was being accused of.

"pur·ist (pyrst)n.
One who practices or urges strict correctness, especially in the use of words"

It's interesting how this whole thing started... Pretty much I went passive/aggressive apeshit over the new Star Wars DVDs and was calling them a humongus waste of money and time. If anybody wanted to invest in their need to settle for whatever Lucas puts in front of them, then that's their business... Personally, I think it's bullshit, mostly based on the following quote from an interview he did with CNN.com:

"Q: Why did you rework the original trilogy into the special-edition versions in the late 1990s?

LUCAS: To me, the special edition ones are the films I wanted to make. Anybody that makes films knows the film is never finished. It's abandoned or it's ripped out of your hands, and it's thrown into the marketplace, never finished. It's a very rare experience where you find a filmmaker who says, "That's exactly what I wanted. I got everything I needed. I made it just perfect. I'm going to put it out there." And even most artists, most painters, even composers would want to come back and redo their work now. They've got a new perspective on it, they've got more resources, they have better technology, and they can fix or finish the things that were never done. ... I wanted to actually finish the film the way it was meant to be when I was originally doing it. At the beginning, people went, "Don't you like it?" I said, "Well, the film only came out to be 25 or 30 percent of what I wanted it to be." They said, "What are you talking about?" So finally, I stopped saying that, but if you read any interviews for about an eight- or nine-year period there, it was all about how disappointed I was and how unhappy I was and what a dismal experience it was. You know, it's too bad you need to get kind of half a job done and never get to finish it. So this was my chance to finish it.

Q: Why not release both the originals and special editions on DVD?

LUCAS: The special edition, that's the one I wanted out there. The other movie, it's on VHS, if anybody wants it. ... I'm not going to spend the, we're talking millions of dollars here, the money and the time to refurbish that, because to me, it doesn't really exist anymore. It's like this is the movie I wanted it to be, and I'm sorry you saw half a completed film and fell in love with it. But I want it to be the way I want it to be. I'm the one who has to take responsibility for it. I'm the one who has to have everybody throw rocks at me all the time, so at least if they're going to throw rocks at me, they're going to throw rocks at me for something I love rather than something I think is not very good, or at least something I think is not finished. "

Essentially saying that we, as the diehard fans who grew up with a film trilogy that was practically perfect as is, weren't seeing the WHOLE movie and therefore, we can't appreciate it the way HE envisioned. The problem with that theory is that the film is already engrained in society as is. This isn't like Donnie Darko getting released in 2001 and then having a director's cut come out this year. This is like if the Godfather came out with a redux and Robert Duvall was digitally replaced with Colin Farrell. It's not adding a couple of deleted or extended scenes or taking out a voice over. Blade Runner, Brazil, and the Abyss all added to the visual tapestry of their films by doing those things, making them much better movies. They didn't give Ed Harris more hair, or CGI Harrison Ford's car, or make Robert DeNiro three pounds lighter. Lucas, though, thinks that he's the God of his creation (y'know what? I'll give him that) and thinks that since special effects are at a point where he can do the things he wants now when he couldn't then, then by gosh he'll do it.

South Park did an episode on this when Spielberg botched ET a few years back. Their point was, "where does the revisionist mentality stop?" Maybe Lucas never liked using minatures and now that he can CGI the ships, they'll look better. Star Wars pioneered the use of miniatures, but future generations will never get to appreciate that because they'll never have access to the original films because it's too costly. THE FUCKING GUY OWNS ILM! I think he could swing this.

Two final points:

1) Every creative genius needs an editor. The Batman movies proves this. In the first film, Tim Burton was held back by the studio because they didn't want his "vision" to make their film unmarketable. You could say the movie was 75% Burton and 25% WB/Jon Peters. In Batman Returns, since the first movie performed so well, the WB took the reigns off and fuck all if they're still not kicking themselves. Mutant Penguin? Christopher Walken with a mane of white hair? MISSLE LAUNCHING AVIARY ARMY? The same thing happened with Schumacher. They were worried they'd lose money again, so they kept this new guy on a leash. Again, 60% Schumacher, 40% WB/Jon Peters. Made some cash, looked good, everyone had fun. Well, let'm have his fun with part 4. Dear god, I can still see the horror of Batman and Robin when I close my eyes.

My point? Maybe those cuts that were forced for time or continuity or pacing... maybe those limitations imposed on them because of special effects... maybe that all worked in the favor of the film and the director didn't even know it. We know that the film works now and if it didn't... we watch deleted scenes and then bitch and moan and BOOM a new edition with THE ALREADY FILMED scenes added in to add depth. No reshoots, no super-imposed Anakin head on "dude under vader mask" at the end of Jedi. Just edited a little to make it great.

2) The fat fuck is seriously a one hit wonder. Name the great Lucas movies since Star Wars. Go on. Howard the Duck? Radioland Murders? Did anybody ever wonder why he ultimately went back? Maybe, just maybe, he got tired of Spielberg making all of the headway in being one of the most prolific sci-fi pioneers of the 70's and 80's and went, "well, shit! i made star wars, muthafucka!"

Regardless... the mind behind Jar Jar Binks and Greedo shooting first... deserves no more of any of our hard-earned geek money. Go out and discover some new sci-fi instead of watching some watered down (but DIGITALLY REMASTERED!) version of your childhood favorite. What new sci-fi? No clue. I just remember a time before the Matrix when people thought nothing fun could come out of Hollywood for sci-fi fans. Before Pitch Black, before Sky Captain, before X-Men...

You can see where I'm going... Now... Get the fuck away from the shiney silver box...

So here we go again...

2004-09-21T14:26:00.000-07:00

I've noticed I start a good chunk of my postings or journal entries with "So..." Just thought that was funny.

So... Alicia and I are pretty much official now. Who's Alicia? Alicia is what happens when you don't believe in your own hype. She was friends with some of my roommates and about a year ago, she dated the roommate that just got moved out before I made my home in the house on Franklin.

She is very, very cool. The thing is she's not cool in all of those, "cool list" sort of ways. That list you make compiled from all of your crushes and never from your actual ex's. Pipedream or experience... the never ending debate.

In this case, I ended up with experience. Here's a girl that had a goal and followed it all of the way, on her own, and came out on top. She put herself through college when she was 16 years old and got a degree in Spanish. Then she went straight on to graduate school for information sciences. In a time when none of my friends, whether still in school, or successfully graduated, are doing anything productive towards their goals (sorry, multiple job interviews dont count) here's a girl thats kicking ass and taking names. And she does it without any arrogance. She's sweet and nice without being naive. She's supportive and caring without being clingy. She's realistic without throwing compassion out the window. The best part? She really likes me. I think that falling for this girl first, pursuing her in a totally passive fashion, on my own terms, and succeeding so successfully is something that I very much needed and the rewards are well worth the years of experience to get here. Who cares if she's not a comic geek or movie freak? We like the same TV shows, she reads tons of actual books, most of which are authors I like, and she's willing to go do practically anything. Our first date was a Hockey game, a french bistro, a dive bar, and Shari's for coffee.

Suffice it to say... if a job would just fall into my lap, things would be going perfectly. We'll see.

Why I hate IM

2004-09-17T19:23:00.000-07:00

The human speech pattern is an amazing thing. We, with our ability to communicate with our five senses, have developed conversation to such a degree that subtley, sarcasm, and innuendo have become commonplace among any social discussion. The advent of the internet, however, has seen the evolution of human interaction taken a couple of rather hazardous backsteps. While we are now capable of communicating with anyone in the world, perfect strangers or far off friends, we have managed to someone hide our voices, our personality-projectors, from this form of communication. The textual exchange has no innuendo, or subtley. It certainly doesn't have sarcasm. People readily take offense to casual conversation littered with slight jabs and sarcastic comments as if they were bond. It's incredibly easy to be misunderstood because your voices inflections are absent from the text in every way that counts and, to add insult (no pun intended) to injury, the sentence(s) in question are right there, spelled out on screen to always refer back to and remind the insulted of their anger.

Frankly, the whole thing makes me ill. We've spent decades, centuries, trying to develop forms of humor and sensitivity and subtley... to have it lost on some piece of crap "communication tool" marketed by AOL.

Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.

Think on it.

Inmates

2004-09-17T19:09:00.000-07:00

So i have friends. gah. believe it or not.

i thought, for my own personal edification, i'd write out the way things work in the social structure. that, and i have nothing to do with insomnia, so away we go:

The clique:

Lisa (aka: Deadly, Mona Lisa, Soul Sister): somewhere between big sister and drinking buddy lies this girl. skater, chef, med student, genius. if she doesnt know it, she'll teach it to herself. verbatim quote upon finishing the MCATs early: (highly intoxicated) "I'm not just very smart, i think i'm a genius!"

Jessica (aka: JRobb, Stabs): pure, unadulterated spice. a red-headed, irish Daria.

Brent (aka: Bentley, Supercop): a stand-up guy and a geek with a gun.

Kevin (aka: Spacey, Kitty): way too smart for his own good, but still a decent friend.

Karl (aka: Pimpke): ex-college roommate who didnt end up moving out on me. a rare thing. a first: a quiet guy who is not ashamed of his silence.

The peripherals:

Mike (aka: Sloth): Proof that friendship, real friendship, can overcome any obstacle. A truly decent, funny guy.

Marjorie (aka: Marjie): One of the truly beautiful people. Funny, amazing, and gorgeous. She'll deny all of this, vehemently, so don't bring it up.

Lawrence (aka: The Law): makes Luke Cage look like a pussy.

Joey (aka: Hackensack): the only christian who will talk to me. former co-worker from the video store days. my hetero-lifemate.

Emily (aka: Sparky, Trump Card): british badass with a heart of gold.

Rachelle: Kevin's girlfriend, but still a really good friend and fellow Kevin Smith lover.

Jane (aka: the Cap'n): the kid sister I never wanted, but a very good person and one I count as a close friend.

The Roommates:

Ethan: The denmother, keeping us all in line, putting out the fires and dealing with the landlords. The boss, but he'll never admit it.

Adam: New Yawkah, through and through. Law student and social butterfly, just keep your food out of his reach.

Craig: Handyman, laid back, muthafuckin' chill fella. Just does his thing. No apoligies.

Buddah the Cat: The cat.

Missing in Action:

Will (aka: Short-bus): When you coming home, buddy?

Arun (aka: Rocko): I hate you, y'know that, don't you?

Facts and figures 'bout the geek culture

2004-09-17T18:56:00.000-07:00

The Modern Comic Book Fan

Average age: 34

Gender: 87 percent male; 13 percent female

Residence:City — 48 percent
Suburbs — 38 percent
Rural — 14 percent

Education level:College — 45 percent
High school — 33 percent
Junior college — 10 percent
Post graduate — 9 percent
Grade school — 3 percent

Music taste:Classic rock — 27 percent
Metal — 16 percent
Adult contemporary — 8 percent
Country/western — 6 percent
Classical — 4 percent
Rap/hip-hop — 2 percent

Own a computer: 77 percent

Use the Internet: 86 percent

Own a home video game system: 68 percent

And how are they using the internet?

Like a scalpel -- 13%
Hunter/gatherer pattern -- 6%
Looking for news on the Legion -- 10%
Bendis-boarders -- 17%
Just jerking off like everyone else -- 54%

to guilt-ify or not to... damn, i can't create words worth a shit...

2004-09-17T18:32:00.000-07:00

Let's face one glaring fact together: I hate feeling guilty. It's in my nature to feel guilty because I'm constantly of two neuorsis: that I'm offensive and that I'm selfish. The thing about the offensive point is that I'm naturally a pretty sensitive guy (helps the intuition thing a lot), and I'd hate to offend someone because I don't like being insulted. Selfish? We're all selfish, so that's stupid to focus on... but I will, anyway.

I have this specific kind of sense of humor and a severe case of the "brutal truth" tendancies. I don't think it's healthy to take yourself too seriously when you're young. We have plenty of time to be an adult when we're adults. Pre-30? Just live and not take everything so seriously. If you're not being demeaning or cruel, or making a point to embarass them in front of an already stressful situation, then there is nothing wrong with taking someone down a few pegs. And when people come to you for advice, patronizing them with the candy-coated truth does nothing but further their problems by feeding them delusion.

Selfish? We're all selfish. I said that earlier. Me, Me, Me. Everything in our lives is about us. Our problems and our fears and our thoughts. That's what makes us self-aware. The trick is to notice the problems in your friends and loved ones even when you're having a bad day or riding on cloud nine. I'm talking about stopping your little power trip and going, "oh man, their day sucked. Hey, how are you doing?" It's all takes. That little moment you take to talk to someone else and ask how they're doing. Focus on them and if they're really as great as you think, they'll take the next moment and focus on you when you're down.

Now, this leads to my point. Guilt. Fuck you and your guilt. I don't feel that emotion. Honestly, it doesn't exist in me like the gamut of emotions missing in a sociopath. I'd feel bad if I hurt you, I avoid situations of mixed morals where I might do something I'll regret, but the vast number of people I know who use guilt as weapon, wheather consiously or unconsiously, can seriously suck it. Knew this person once... Hated being left out. So they'd just ride your ass about it when you did (even if you had just forgotten or were actually thinking about inviting them or whatnot) until you were supposed to learn to never leave them out. Thing is? I'd just mentally cross their name off. Fuck them and their guilt-tripping. It will get them nothing in my world because that currency is worth shit here. If you want to be included, if you want me to respect your feelings, if you want to be taken seriously... Grow the fuck up. Crawl out from the shell, step out of the closet, look me in the eye, and talk to me like a big person.

So many people want to be taken seriously... to be respected... but they have no idea what it takes... what it calls for... for a person to deserve that.

and on a lighter note: Bunnies. Discuss.

quotes to start off with...

2004-09-15T20:53:00.000-07:00

Heard on Scrubs:

"Relationships don't work they way they do on television and in the movies. Will they? Won't they? And then they finally do, and they're happy forever. Gimme a break. Nine out of ten of them end because they weren't right for each other to begin with, and half of the ones who get married get divorced anyway, and I'm telling you right now, through all this stuff I have not become a cynic. I haven't. Yes, I do happen to believe that love is mainly about pushing chocolate covered candies and, y'know, in some cultures, a chicken. You can call me a sucker, I don't care, because I do believe in it. Bottom line: it's couples who are truly right for each other wade through the same crap as everybody else, but the big difference is they don't let it take them down. One of those two people will stand up and fight for that relationship every time. If it's right, and they're real lucky, one of them will say something."

So in reality, what can we take from this quote? I mean, here we are thinking two things about love and relationships: that love doesn't exist, so we fake it or that it's a real thing that we are constantly in search of, but never really believe we've ever found.

Another little one liner i've gleaned from the media recently is the tagline for a movie called "Closer." The plot isn't really important, but the tagline in question is, "if you believe in love at first sight, you'll never stop looking." Essentially, it says that if you are a romantic believing in the idea of an instant chemistry, an insane romantic connection, than you'll never give up that search, even when you're in a totally great relationship.

I'm of the mindset that this is all true. Both the quote and the tagline pretty much filer into my perception on what's up with love in my experience. The fact is that I don't think it's possible for me to be satasfied anymore. I've loved one woman and she dumped me without any real cause... that was 6 years ago next month. She's married now and is living that happy homemaker life and I'm typing on internet blogs at 4am about how I can't just relax when I'm in a relationship of any kind.

In the end, there is no resolution this neurosis other than just faking it. Frankly, I've been getting by on an aloof nature and bitter cynicism that people seem to dig as part of my personality. Hey, look! It's Mike. He just needs to get laid, that'll cheer him up. He's never in a good mood. Does he even remember what it's like to have one?

The answer? Nope.

quotes...

2004-04-17T19:08:00.000-07:00

What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?

i probably shouldnt do this.... but....

2004-04-16T19:07:00.000-07:00

The real story:
Who am i?

You really want to know who i am? i'm the most honest person you'll ever meet. i can peel away everything about you just by listening to you and watching you for 15 minutes. i dont need your personal history to know that youre an addict or a victim or a fighter. i can do it by just looking in your eyes. and i hate myself for this ability. it has brought me nothing but pain, disappointment, and a life that has me sitting here while all of my friends are out fucking like rabbits or enjoying a stiff drink with mixed company. i dwell and stew in these feelings that make me have nothing but guilt for the fact that there is somebody for everyone, and in three months time... i'll have been single for a year. lonely single, not single where you can make due and get over it. not single where you work out your issues and write your life story or paint that portrait youve always wanted to. single where everything reminds you of every mistake youve ever made with a every girl who gave a second look at you. and thats really the thing, isnt it. no girl really takes two looks at me. they see me for what they think i am and then see the really strapping, confidant, hot guy next to me, and pick him. so what if he'll rape them, cheat on them, destroy them. they'll feel pretty and attractive. the fact is, that for someone who is not obese or acne ridden, or manic depressive, i'm pretty unattractive. and that makes me invisible. and that invisibility kills me. that haunting feeling of not really being there, of living between the grey and not being noticed. it breeds a sick desperation, one that eats away until you just want to lock yourself in a room and watch romantic comedies until you feel like theres hope. that When Harry Met Sally can happen. that, my friends, is hell. look at me whine.

shit.

ignore all of this. rantings of the funk.

met a "strange" girl.... nearly got killled by a russian... ONLY ME!

2004-04-10T19:06:00.000-07:00

So there i am in the shop today. working as i work and whistling and what not... and my manager calls me outside... he's having his 5th cigarette of the day (it is only 12pm, mind you) and he is asking me how the punisher thing i'm planning is going. as we're talking i see this girl across the street walking towards my store and i go "damn i hope she walks in here." and lo and behold... she was cute, kinda charming, little geeky (i'll refrain from pointing out how much of a geek, but it was endearing more than offputting), and just kinda... i dunno. so we got to talking and i asked her her name. she responds, "heather strange." now, this is the point where i'm thinking, "aw shit shes a total geek and this is like her gamer handle or something. and then she smiles and says, "seriously" and shows me her id. now, any other man would have talked a little longer, either invited her out, or at least gotten her number.... but i... i am a chicken shit. and did neither. hopefully she'll come back to the store... fuck. so then i get off work and go out with my friend nick up in vancouver. i pick him up and we're all out and about trying to find a movie theater. some russian punks in a tricked out civic start pacing me and getting on my ass and then its like i'm being chased and i'm fearing for my life. at one point the motherfucker tried to force me into the median blockade. eventually i get ahead of him and accelerate and try to get away, then we hit the stop light. he's behind me, he's out of his car, he's trying to break my window, he's inside my car, and he's beating the shit out of me. my jaw hurts, my car has dents and theres a shoe print on my window. i had to actually fill out a police report. i think they impounded his car, but have yet to actually catch him. fuck life. happy resurrection day. wheres my fuckin' candy...

I mean no offense to the ladies...

2004-04-04T19:05:00.000-07:00

I dont mean to offend any of the sensibilities of the women on this site. i really have no intention of trying to make myself out to be a judgemental prick (if you know me, then you are more then welcome to refer to me as such), but something bothers me about the ladies around here.
so, i've noticed two types of girls who go on these sites. 1) the spunky, wanting to meet new people, faked being 18 to get onboard show lovin' types or 2) the intellectuals/emo ladies (often multi-talented and full of wit and/or charm) burned many times by men they've thought were what would make them feel better about themselves.
its funny, but the first kind is often polite enough to reply or even give a conversation a chance. unfortunately, i hate feeling like a world-worn smarty-pants or a pedophile, so i tend to stay away from those conversations.
i just find it frustrating is all. this even plays true in the "real world." you meet a girl. you start talking to her and its obvious you are not someone she's going to give the time of day to. but, oh oh oh, that guy over there? the one that screams "cheating, insensitive date-rapist?" he's to die for.
Rune and i discussed this at length at the bar last night. beer was the instigator, but he refused to let up about the fact that its good that my standards are as high as they are, but bad that i look at every girl as some type of job interviewee and not just a girl with potential. being quick to judge, in his opinion, is what is keeping me alone. and having a specific type of girl already qualified in my head is what has lead me to such constant disappointment, because it should be obvious by now that i am in no way someone that they will conciously find attractive at first notice. if i want what i have always directed as my type, i'll have to play mindgames, because i dont walk, dress, or act the part of their ideal mate.
The Law, also had some thoughts on this. he pointed out that my trying to have a relationship with every girl i make it two steps with is just a little too much at our age (he's two years older than me) and that that obsession with the future keeps me from actually getting to know them in "right here, right now" kind of way. he's still in shock that i can't seem to find ANY girl and havent been able to for going on 9 months now. i just tell him that single is as single does and when it happens i'll be a lot more ready for it than when i was only single for 2 months.
Will just likes to point out that i'm a lot smarter about my tastes now that i've been burned so many times by the ladies or by my own actions coming back to haunt me.
frankly, i know i'd do better this time because after having one of those moments of clarity when you realize how youve fucked up so many times over the last year or so, you kind of have a handle on what you could do better next time and what you used to pride yourself on.
random thoughts. whoever actually reads this shit can take it as they want.

fired and then promoted... word...

2004-04-03T19:04:00.000-08:00

So there i am, just waking up one morning, and i'm like, "shit, i hate my job {at best buy}" I mean, i really hate it. no one that works there enjoys themself, the perks are impossible to take advantage of, and i've been told, in so many words, that due to my attitude i'll never get promoted past part time csr. nevermind that i have perfect sales numbers, i promote like a bastard, and i'm a master tasker, plus i'm the inventory king and can fucking find 600 missing pieces of a 1000 piece pull in only 45 minutes, nah. i dont smile enough. fuck'm.
i go in to pick Rune up a dvd, go talk to my manager, tell him i'm thinking about giving two weeks, and then i go home and get ready for work in two hours. lo and behold, when i get there, i'm told i'm no longer in the system, am off the schedule for next week, and am effectively fired, but they want to know if i'm still going to work that afternoon and if i'll come in on friday. suffice to say, we italians have tempers second only to the irish, so i told my supervisor "go fuck yourself" with the perfect shit-eating grin, received pats on the back from my peers (i am effectively the hero of two of them) and went straight for the comic book store. while picking up a book to cure my melancholy, i gave the ops manager of the store a call and told him my situation. in a flash, i was promoted to full time and granted 72 hours in the next three weeks on top of my ten hours a week. full benefites and free movie comps followed. as the spring gets into gear, i'm working my dream job (when i was 14, but i've always been a slow start) and i'll never have to pay for movies again.
My name is Hollywood Mike. I no longer suck dick for coke, i sling funny books. school starts in the fall, and i'll be going for my degree. fear my ego.

couple-itis

2004-03-27T19:02:00.000-08:00

Couples are everywhere. its like... for some reason, its the season or something, because cute couples are fucking everywhere. i'm at the store and i'll see a girl wandering around doin nothing...looking at nothing and i'll ask if she needs anything and she'll be like, "nah, my boyfriend is buying a (insert useless man purchase here). i'm just browsing while i wait."i decided that since i was getting sick of seeing all of these amiable couples skipping around like they had shit to worry about (god... i'm petty arent i) i'd fuck with them a little bit. gave me something to do... i'd see the girl and roll up and be like, "let me guess, your boyfriend is buying a..." "stereo. god is it obvious?" "no, just getting used to noticing. did you want anything?" "no i'm fine. i'm just looking around." "so which guy is your boyfriend?" "the blond guy in the hat." "ok, well if you need anything, let me know." "sure." so now i roll up on the bf. "hey man. finding everything ok?" "yeah, they're just installing my deck." "cool cool. is that your ladyfriend over there?" "her? yeah. why?" "oh nothing. just saw you guys come in. so are you going somewhere for her after this?" "what do you mean?" "well you know how it works... best buy for you, nordstroms for her, cartoys for you, old navy for her..." "nah nah. just me man. shes not one of those 'shoppin' girls, y'know?" "oh, yeah. cool." now, back to the girl. "you sure youre ok?" "yeah, i'm good. his deck should be done soon." "probably. so you dont drag him anywhere like this do you?" "nah, he hates it." "well, id think he'd owe it to you, but thats just my thing. s'not like you can't STOP by and LOOK at some shoes for a sec, right?" "well..." "none of my business. sorry. you let me know if you need a checker or something. take care."then... i get to watch the conversation about how they're going to the gap after this... he argues, she looks at him... he hangs his head and they leave. i'm going to hell....