So, after vowing to steadfastly update every Wednesday, I missed my first deadline. Smart James.
Today was the last day of the semester. I had a final for my worst class and then I realized I had an essay due an hour before I needed to turn it in. I think I prevailed with flying colors. That's the best excuse I can give for being late. I was busy attending to real life. If you can call it that.
Today was the strangest mixture of bliss and agony that I've had in a single day. Actually, to categorize anything that happened today into either category would be a gross exaggeration. Today was really just a mixed bag:
The bag included:
+Trying to sell my books at the bookstore for some cash.
-Only making five dollars. Not exactly a sound financial return. I wonder if sub-prime mortgages affect the used book market at USC. Oh, and side note, USC will go on to sell that five dollar book for at least fifty. It feels dirty just to think about. OJ Mayo can't be the only one making a profit here in Southern California.
+Deciding to buy a Southern Chicken Sandwich from McDonalds with that five dollars.
-Losing said five dollars on the way to the McDonalds.
+Coming back to my friend waiting for me with homemade cookies.
+Chilling with some great friends.
-Realizing that fate is a fickle bitch (credit goes to Ben Linus).
So, I'm done with my junior year of college. I don't want to make this blog too personal, but I guess it's inevitable. Everything I write, fiction and non-fiction, is a part of me. So I guess I cannot make it impersonal. But this is not the place for me to vent about life. More to muse about it. Because I find life to be amusing.
Unless the comedy of life is that we all find out that it's a fucking tragedy in the end. Then that would suck.
Please don't let that be it.
Or that the comedy of life ends up being Reba.
That would be even worse.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
WWW: Weekly Wednesday Wupdate. Episode 1: A New Ear
I originally meant for this to be subtitled: A New Era, but my typo amused me more. So, here we are, the start of a new ear, with me updating this blog at least once a week. Why Weekly Wednesday Wupdate? Because alliterations are fun, asshole. Just go along with it.
But why weekly? To give my readership (I think it's just me, my friend Ian, and whoever stumbles upon this after typing in a google search for "blog porn," as I just included that phrase to see what happens) a reason to come back to this website. And to give me an activity to do for the next 3 months. Even though I do have 5 finals starting tomorrow, my mind is in full summer mode. I've been wearing shorts, sleeping in, and drinking what should be illegal amounts of lemonade. Yep, that's summer to me.
To those of you who searched for "blog porn," I deeply apologize. To make it up to you, I will post a sexy spanish music video that I produced a few months back. Also, you're a sicko. Welcome to the blog!
So, this concludes the first WWW. I hope you enjoyed it. This one was just a bite sized portion, but it feels good.
The start of a new ear!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Worse than taking a bite...
I've taken some time off of the blog. Right after I decided that this should be a weekly thing. That's somewhat typical of my writing process. Once I start one project, I become enamored with it. Then a new project comes up, and I become enamored with that, leaving the old project to flounder and squirm in the back of my mind for survival. If you think that's deep or poignant, it's not trying to be. I'm just explaining some of my shortcomings as a writer. Or really, my recent mentality.
Well, I just finished my fourth show in a row this year at USC. These past few weeks have been good and torturous. Good because I was mentally spent after months of constant rehearsals. Torturous because it has been filled with the ironic anxiety that can only be caused by not having somewhere to be or something to do.
So, I've spent much of my time trying to keep myself busy and ignore those pangs that say "hey, why aren't you busy all the goddamn time? is something wrong with you?" It's one of my neuroses that I would get try to get rid of if I wasn't so amused by it. That could ultimately be my downfall as a human being: the fact that my eccentricities, neuroses, and shortcomings just fascinate me. These are nothing big, but just kind of funny. Prime example would be mail. If I know I have a package coming, I'll start checking my mailbox constantly a few days before I know the package will arrive. It's stupid, and I can even get a little nervous if I think the package will come when I'm not home, thus not able to sign (if it needs signing), and thus I have to wait even more and go through the whole rigamarole again the next day. So, I just very eagerly anticipate mail. I think through some mental determination I could easily eradicate the problem. But then again, it's kinda like watching a puppy who sees a dog on tv and starts barking at it. It's insane and nonsensical in a way, but you don't stop it because it's so amusing.
But that's not what I logged on here to write about. To be honest, I'm not sure what I wanted to write about. Oh, yeah, now I remember. I got distracted with the whole mail thing. I wanted to talk about narrative in three forms that interest me: theatre, film, and videogames. But now that I think about it, that discussion seems a bit silly right now.
See, here's what I was talking about at the start of the post. I start writing something with one intent to discuss narrative structure and merits, and I end up talking about neuroses and puppies. Jesus, maybe it's just an improvisational spirit, or more likely it's just ADD.
I'm now wondering if this is the worst blog post of all time. It might just be. Wow. I wonder if they have awards for those kind of things. And if so, how would it be determined? I would imagine most bad blog posts would be largely unread. Like this one will be.
well, www.worstblogposts.com hasn't been taken yet. maybe i should buy the domain, and then start my own award for the worst posts ever. Hint: this post will win.
I advised a friend of mine to say the phrase "worse than taking a bite out of a turd sandwich" in front of a crowd today. I wonder two things: Did he do it? and am I a bad friend to suggest such a thing? I'm guessing the answer to both is yes.
So, because this post was so awful (it really was, and it gets worse everytime I remind you that it was bad. Why, it was worse than taking a bite out of a turd sandwich! It's true). I feel like I need to make it up to my readership (all two of you) with two things:
1)I'm going to start updating every Wednesday night from now on. With posts much better than this.
2)I will post a video of Mascots hurting themselves in a few minutes.
I love you all.
Well, I just finished my fourth show in a row this year at USC. These past few weeks have been good and torturous. Good because I was mentally spent after months of constant rehearsals. Torturous because it has been filled with the ironic anxiety that can only be caused by not having somewhere to be or something to do.
So, I've spent much of my time trying to keep myself busy and ignore those pangs that say "hey, why aren't you busy all the goddamn time? is something wrong with you?" It's one of my neuroses that I would get try to get rid of if I wasn't so amused by it. That could ultimately be my downfall as a human being: the fact that my eccentricities, neuroses, and shortcomings just fascinate me. These are nothing big, but just kind of funny. Prime example would be mail. If I know I have a package coming, I'll start checking my mailbox constantly a few days before I know the package will arrive. It's stupid, and I can even get a little nervous if I think the package will come when I'm not home, thus not able to sign (if it needs signing), and thus I have to wait even more and go through the whole rigamarole again the next day. So, I just very eagerly anticipate mail. I think through some mental determination I could easily eradicate the problem. But then again, it's kinda like watching a puppy who sees a dog on tv and starts barking at it. It's insane and nonsensical in a way, but you don't stop it because it's so amusing.
But that's not what I logged on here to write about. To be honest, I'm not sure what I wanted to write about. Oh, yeah, now I remember. I got distracted with the whole mail thing. I wanted to talk about narrative in three forms that interest me: theatre, film, and videogames. But now that I think about it, that discussion seems a bit silly right now.
See, here's what I was talking about at the start of the post. I start writing something with one intent to discuss narrative structure and merits, and I end up talking about neuroses and puppies. Jesus, maybe it's just an improvisational spirit, or more likely it's just ADD.
I'm now wondering if this is the worst blog post of all time. It might just be. Wow. I wonder if they have awards for those kind of things. And if so, how would it be determined? I would imagine most bad blog posts would be largely unread. Like this one will be.
well, www.worstblogposts.com hasn't been taken yet. maybe i should buy the domain, and then start my own award for the worst posts ever. Hint: this post will win.
I advised a friend of mine to say the phrase "worse than taking a bite out of a turd sandwich" in front of a crowd today. I wonder two things: Did he do it? and am I a bad friend to suggest such a thing? I'm guessing the answer to both is yes.
So, because this post was so awful (it really was, and it gets worse everytime I remind you that it was bad. Why, it was worse than taking a bite out of a turd sandwich! It's true). I feel like I need to make it up to my readership (all two of you) with two things:
1)I'm going to start updating every Wednesday night from now on. With posts much better than this.
2)I will post a video of Mascots hurting themselves in a few minutes.
I love you all.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Governors Gone Wild!
So, if you don't know what's going on with New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer, then either you don't own a TV or a computer. So, you probably aren't one of the two people who read my blog. 
I'm not going to go off on a whole "hey, if you spend years cracking down on prostitution, maybe you should avoid getting caught engaging in prostitution" rant. That one seems a bit too obvious. But how about this: if you are going to champion an issue/vice, make sure it's not your vice. If you are on crack, maybe then you can pound the pulpit about how prostitutes are immoral and whatnot. You might be a crackhead, but at least you're not a hypocrite full of sweet sweet irony.
But I think Spitzer's problem was that he was pounding the pulpit a bit too much.
I'll be here all week folks.
The thing that really gets me is that he resigned today. Today is Wednesday. Apparently, he'll be out of office by Monday. I mean, I know he needs to pack up some things, but that's 5 whole days until he's gone. I see one of two scenarios:
1) The most awkward 3 damn work days you've ever imagined. Do the employees at the Governor's office get him a going away cake? What do you do for your publicly disgraced boss? I think getting him one of those joke penis cakes would be inappropriate, but I'd be tempted.
2)The wildest fucking 5 days in the history of New York Governors. He's playing with house money now. He's already disgraced, what harm would be an all hooker party at the Governor's mansion? It's a bit last minute, but I'm sure Eliot knows a few people.
I'm not going to go off on a whole "hey, if you spend years cracking down on prostitution, maybe you should avoid getting caught engaging in prostitution" rant. That one seems a bit too obvious. But how about this: if you are going to champion an issue/vice, make sure it's not your vice. If you are on crack, maybe then you can pound the pulpit about how prostitutes are immoral and whatnot. You might be a crackhead, but at least you're not a hypocrite full of sweet sweet irony.
But I think Spitzer's problem was that he was pounding the pulpit a bit too much.
I'll be here all week folks.
The thing that really gets me is that he resigned today. Today is Wednesday. Apparently, he'll be out of office by Monday. I mean, I know he needs to pack up some things, but that's 5 whole days until he's gone. I see one of two scenarios:
1) The most awkward 3 damn work days you've ever imagined. Do the employees at the Governor's office get him a going away cake? What do you do for your publicly disgraced boss? I think getting him one of those joke penis cakes would be inappropriate, but I'd be tempted.
2)The wildest fucking 5 days in the history of New York Governors. He's playing with house money now. He's already disgraced, what harm would be an all hooker party at the Governor's mansion? It's a bit last minute, but I'm sure Eliot knows a few people.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
A National Hero... in Misleading Quotes
From CNN.com
"Frank Buckles joined the Army at 15 and set sail for World War I on the same ship used in the rescue of the Titanic. A couple decades later, he was forced to eat from a tin cup for more than three years as a World War II POW. Now, at 107, he's a national hero."
Finally, after 107 years, it's about damn time that this man has done some good. Way to go from zero to hero, NOW, at 107. So, congrats, Frank, for finally doing something with your life.
But seriously, what the fuck do they mean? NOW, at 107, he's a national hero? What happened to those 50+ years after the Wars? Did he, at 107, finally like save a kitten or guess the showcase showdown exactly on Price is Right?
Frank Buckles, you've been a national hero since the age of 15. And here's to 107 more years of being a hero...
but not really, because i doubt being 214 could be anything but painful.
"Frank Buckles joined the Army at 15 and set sail for World War I on the same ship used in the rescue of the Titanic. A couple decades later, he was forced to eat from a tin cup for more than three years as a World War II POW. Now, at 107, he's a national hero."
Finally, after 107 years, it's about damn time that this man has done some good. Way to go from zero to hero, NOW, at 107. So, congrats, Frank, for finally doing something with your life.
But seriously, what the fuck do they mean? NOW, at 107, he's a national hero? What happened to those 50+ years after the Wars? Did he, at 107, finally like save a kitten or guess the showcase showdown exactly on Price is Right?
Frank Buckles, you've been a national hero since the age of 15. And here's to 107 more years of being a hero...
but not really, because i doubt being 214 could be anything but painful.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
What I learned from Lost...
A man needs a constant in his life, or else he will lose his mind.
...and his brain will short circuit.
...and he will continue to go back and forth through time.
...but only his consciousness.
...but that won't prevent him from dying from an aneurism.
So... lesson learned. New goal: find my constant.
The constant of the day is Chick-Fil-A. Although I doubt that it's substantial enough to keep me from bleeding out of my eyes and nose (figuratively), it was quite satiating (literally) today.
Hopefully I'll find a better constant soon.
...and his brain will short circuit.
...and he will continue to go back and forth through time.
...but only his consciousness.
...but that won't prevent him from dying from an aneurism.
So... lesson learned. New goal: find my constant.
The constant of the day is Chick-Fil-A. Although I doubt that it's substantial enough to keep me from bleeding out of my eyes and nose (figuratively), it was quite satiating (literally) today.
Hopefully I'll find a better constant soon.
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