| (no subject) |
[Feb. 17th, 2010|07:47 pm] |
Fudge.
Forgot I wanted to write. Instead, I have a presentation due in about 12 hours that I have unsurprisingly put off until the last minute. Gotta focus. Gotta steel. Gotta put off writing.
I shouldn't forget to want to write. I should forget to write. No -- I should write. I've already forgotten some of the things I wanted to write about. It'll come back, or maybe I'll replace three things with four new things and just forget about what started all this. The chomping noise you hear is my brain being eaten by The Nothing.
I want a beer so bad. Can't do it. Gotta focus. Gotta steel. The Bulls are down by 13 to the Knicks? Good grief.
Bedtime at midnight. Treadmill at 6. Presentation at 8. Beer at 5. If I write it down now, I won't forget.
|
|
|
| Watch This Space |
[Feb. 14th, 2010|11:11 pm] |
|
I thought of something that I wanted to write about but for some reason I'm exhausted right now so I think I'll go to sleep instead. Maybe tomorrow. Man, I have a ton of stuff I'd like to do tomorrow. You have misled me, three day weekend. |
|
|
| And there's the opening bell |
[Jan. 1st, 2010|04:04 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Eisley - Lost at Sea | ] |
The first few hours of 2010 are funny. They are exactly what I thought I’d avoid and more fun than I expected them to be. I’m home now, after a quick jaunt to Mac’s and a layover at Nasty’s, during which time I managed to get drunk enough to warrant an early exit. And now here I sit, drinking Rebel Yell at 2 in the morning and listening to records. (I say “records” because there is something more romantic about that term than simply saying “the ‘Shuffle’ button on my iTunes.”) I’m writing now -- probably against better judgment -- because a question was posed tonight that I feel compelled to answer publicly: what exactly was so great about 2009? Because I get the sense that 2009 was not aces for everyone, so I want to go on record and let you know why this year may have been the best year of my life (or The Best Year of My Life, as caps-happy Norman Mailer would have put it).
And, yes, this was the best year of my life. Even better than the year I graduated, even better than the year I lost my virginity, and even better than those early-20s years when I could do no wrong. 2009 felt like the year that I Figured It Out, or at least as best as I can to this point. Because your 20s are a con. I don’t know if you know that. When you enter your third decade you’re led to believe that you’re finally in control of your life and that the world is your oyster, but there are so many disclaimers and riders attached that by the time you read through the fine print you’re thousands of dollars in debt and you’re nowhere near where you thought you’d be back when you thought in terms of ideals and best-case scenarios.
I should mention now that I happened to turn 30 just a few days ago, so I have the benefit of my own personal calendar coinciding with the Gregorian calendar. So forgive me if I equate 2010 with turning 30, and if a lot of my own personal milestones bleed into that fact. I have learned a lot in the past 10 years, and hopefully I have my wits about me to carry it over into the next 10. Hopefully you’ll do the same. But enough about that. Here’s what made 2009 great:
** Without hesitation, the highlight of this year was probably one of my top 3 moments ever in my entire life: STAG! If you had told me two years ago that I would be onstage, performing sketches I had written in front of a sold-out crowd, I would have called you a fucking liar. The process took a lot out of me – and that is considering that I probably got off easy compared to the rest of the group – and those months produced a lot of late nights and cold sweats, but that final release of the live show was an experience I will not soon forget. The Saturday pitch sessions at Rudy’s, the shooting schedules, the footage screenings, being there when I first heard that they were turning people away at the ticket window and then relaying that to the rest of the group, the moments underneath the stage before the show, the after-party and being surrounded by literally everyone who ever believed in me… I cannot realistically imagine myself topping that.
** By extension, this was the best year for Mascot Wedding ever. The year started out with “The Joy of Painting,” a return to form that I am so happy with and proud to have been a part of for reasons that extend far beyond anything I could explain here. From there we did a number of successful Master Pancake shows, the aforementioned STAG! show, and, oh by the way, the radio show killed it. Absolutely killed it. I cannot tell you how happy I am with some of the shows we did. And I haven’t even said a word about how we were mentioned in the Chronicle’s “Best Of” issue. Can I just tell you how insane it is to run into someone who will stop and ask “aren’t you in Mascot Wedding?” Goddammit, it makes me so proud every time.
** I have a regular job! It’s so funny how we take employment for granted, but after being unemployed for a full year and spending another full year delivering pizzas, it is such a relief to not worry about where the next rent check is coming from. The best part is I actually love my job, so much so that I’m going to wake up with a ginormous hangover and still work on a project that’s due Monday.
** My new apartment is awesome. As soon as I figure how we can best utilize it, we will do so.
** Texas Football. One week away from another national championship. Yeah, that’s right, I’m calling it. And it’s gonna feel fucking amazing when they pull it off.
** I reconnected with old friends this year. Some who surely should have left me for dead. I’m no longer the Holden Caulfield I thought I was when I was younger – friends are okay in my book. I love the feeling of a friend being there for me. And, say what you will about Facebook, but I’ve never felt closer to people I actually give a shit about, and that makes me feel pretty good.
** ACL was a fucking blast and you can go to hell and die if you disagree. (I only bring it up because I saw Pearl Jam for the first time in six years and it may have been the best show I’ve seen them do out of four tries. Definite highlight.)
** One of the benefits of doing a radio show is that it challenges you to expand your musical horizons. The thing I like about music that I don’t like about movies is that only about 400 movies come out each year. Everyone has a chance to see them and everyone has an opinion on them. But with music, there is so much stuff out there that you’re given the chance to explore again, to discover again, and to feel a sense of pride when you introduce someone to something they may have otherwise ignored. My list of favorite albums this year is longer than my list of favorite movies. There is something really neat about that.
** There is so much room for improvement. 2009 was great, but there are already some 2010 irons in the fire. When it’s all said and done, you’re face is gonna melt from all the stuff I have planned. And that is an awesome feeling.
Okay, I have put a sizable dent in the Rebel Yell by now. Oh, and I’ll try to get back to Livejournal more regularly. You’re still my one true love, eljay, and I wanna make more of an effort to purge my thoughts.
This one’s gonna be fun. Thanks for hanging on. |
|
|
| Your (not so) Christmas viewing requirement |
[Dec. 20th, 2009|11:33 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Cherry Blossom Clinic archives | ] |
Could someone do me a favor and watch Julia for me? I kinda love it but it's also kinda one of the most irritating movies I've seen in forever. That means it's great, right? I need feedback! |
|
|
| Some kind of happiness is measured out in miles |
[Dec. 4th, 2009|02:25 am] |
I’ll tell you what gets me. If you’re asking, of course. I don’t want to force something on you that you couldn’t care less about.
Sometimes you just wanna vent. Vent in a way that feels like you might throw up if you don’t. Like your DNA might mutate if you don’t, and by not venting you’ll somehow become softer. Weaker. Less like you -- or at least your generous perception of you. Even if you know that your bad day isn’t so bad, but you’d feel so much better if you let somebody know that you know your day isn’t so bad, and all you need to do is hear it come out of your own mouth and watch someone else nod when they’re supposed to and suck air between their teeth and grimace when they’re supposed to and finish it all off with a simple yet poignant “that sucks” when they’re supposed to.
Don’t get me wrong. I can’t say for certain exactly who reads this anymore, but I’m almost positive I value every one of you. And I certainly don’t doubt that I could turn to any one of you when I’m feeling rotten for a more than capable shoulder to cry on. But – and I stress, no offense – I’m not sure any of you can plumb the depths that are sometimes necessary. Maybe you can, I dunno, and maybe I’m not comfortable/brave/ready enough to put you on the payroll. Or maybe, simply, I wouldn’t want to put you through that kind of a wringer. Because, you see, I won’t always need it but sometimes I will need it. I will need someone to swallow my secrets and fears, and help me prevent them from ever getting out. I will need someone who will answer the phone at 2 in the morning and dive with me into the murkiest parts of my existence, way beyond the cursory “oh my god you’ll never believe this” all the way down into “how can I live in a world with/without this.” I will need someone who won’t bat an eye if I tell them about how vulnerable I feel when a person genuinely gets under my skin, and about how I feel so helpless when I do nothing about it. And about my devilish fantasies of standing on that person’s head and using the leverage to rip their lower jaw from their face so they’ll never insult another person again. And about the embarrassment I feel when I need to calm myself down with a glass of gin and the Walkmen’s “Hang On, Siobhan” playing in a loop because it’s the only song that feels warm right now.
But that person doesn’t exist. (And really – let’s face it – nor should that person exist.)
That’s what gets me. |
|
|
| Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father |
[Oct. 22nd, 2009|11:17 pm] |
Dear Zachary is a movie I will not soon forget.
I really wanted to hate it. In fact, after five minutes I pretty much decided I would. One of my biggest pet peeves (at least as far as movies are concerned) is documentaries made by people who insist on inserting themselves in the proceedings. A documentary is supposed to follow the action, not create it. Michael Moore, Morgan Spurlock – can’t stand them. Anyone who “takes to the streets,” “armed with only a video camera” to “set out on an epic quest” will always be working from a deficit as far as I’m concerned. Dear Zachary was guilty of all this and more. The self-awareness in Kurt Kuenne’s narration, his editing, his frequent appearances in archival footage. It all grated on me from the first minute.
After five minutes I was ready to turn it off. By the end, I promised myself that, if I ever met Kuenne, I would go out of my way to thank him for making Dear Zachary.
I didn’t know anything about the story beforehand, so maybe I was the perfect audience for it. If you do not know the story, I’d recommend you stay that way if you plan on watching this. Yet I’d be curious to know the opinions of people who knew what they were getting into before seeing this movie. I’m sure many would argue that I “fell for it,” that I got played by the movie’s blatant heavy-handedness and one-sided agenda. I don’t doubt that I got hooked. In fact, I respect the movie all the more for it. Dear Zachary - dare I say – has made me a better person. Why would I challenge the strings it pulled to get me there?
Its faults and devices aside, this movie affected me like few movies – few experiences – ever have, and I would be doing the movie a disservice if I did not recommend it to anyone who would listen. You will not enjoy the movie, but I hope you will appreciate it. |
|
|
| On Moving and Moving On |
[Oct. 14th, 2009|01:08 am] |
| [ | music |
| | The Felice Brothers - Boy From Lawrence County | ] |
I feel weird, and I almost took it out on you.
I started to write about the new apartment I just signed the paperwork earlier today and about how excited I am to move, but then it turned into this angry missive directed at haters who only exist in my head. Well, I’m sure they exist in real life – in fact, I’m certain of it – but that’s not what right now should be about. Something occurred to me a little while ago. This new place of mine is the first one I’ve ever picked out on my own, without any outside circumstances or restrictions. Not the place I’m living in now, which Mitch picked out because it was supposed to be cheap for both of us (so much for that), and not the place before that because I was doing Jake a favor, and not the place before that because I was just trying not to break the lease on the place before that, which was supposed to be cheap for Jake and me.
Not one place has ever been mine all mine, and I’ve probably lived in about six or seven places since I’ve been in this town. (Wow, that feels weird to confirm, but it’s true.) Until now. That’s what I should be focusing on, and not the people who will surely criticize me for paying too much or living in one of those new properties that is ruining Austin. My place is not for you. It’s for me. It’s my Fortress of Solitude, and the best part is that it has a big heavy door that has been scientifically proven to keep out every eyeroll and “meh” and “fail” you can throw at it.
So yeah, I started to get angry. Which is especially strange because just a couple of hours ago I was reflecting on the past and getting kinda sad. One of the things I’ve been doing to make my move easier is trying to consolidate my junk, like going through old papers and memento boxes. Another thing I’ve been doing is converting my old videotapes to DVDs, so I can throw away these big clunky tapes and just keep it all in a nifty binder. But as I was going through these tapes I realized that whatever possessed me to hold onto this stuff is long gone. All these old shows and movies and ancient videos of me with long hair making even dumber jokes than I do now to people I haven’t seen in years. Who is this for? Why, so I can reflect on things that’ll never be? What am I still hanging on to? I kept some of them, for genuine entertainment purposes and not for the purposes of forced nostalgia, but I tossed most of them. And I feel good about it, I really do. But there was something about the gesture that felt so final. Then I thought, you know what? It was final years ago. Not that it made me feel any better, but it’s the truth. You accept, you adjust, and you keep moving. Moving into new places. Getting rid of the clutter. Getting older. Getting better.
I’m looking forward to moving. I’m a little stressed about packing, but more about cleaning. Does anyone ever get their deposit back? I gotta put some of this stuff on eBay. That couch can go on Craigslist. I’m gonna laugh when I’m not left with much to move. And I was really impressed with all of the storage in my new place. So much for that. This will all be so different next month. Next year. Tomorrow.
I’m not angry anymore. Now I can sleep. Good night. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 17th, 2009|05:23 pm] |
I want to write in you so bad but I'm terribly busy until this weekend, and even then.
I want to use alcohol as a tool to collect stories for you, master, but see previous statement.
What's that you say? But I can't. Because I simply cannot. ...Hmmm. I've never thought of it that way, master. I will sleep on it and return with a thoughtful reply.
I love you too, master. Sleep well. |
|
|
| Because she asked nicely |
[May. 27th, 2009|06:05 pm] |
I want to know 36 things about you. I don't care if we never talk or if we already know everything about each other. Short and sweet is fine. You're on my list, so I want to know you better! Please feel free to leave a question blank if you feel it's too personal or you don't feel comfortable with it.
BE HONEST! COPY FROM HERE THEN SEND DIRECTLY TO ME IN A COMMENT THEN, REPOST THE EMPTY QUESTIONS IN YOUR LJ.
1) Are you currently in a serious relationship?
2) What was your dream growing up?
3) What talent do you wish you had?
4) If I bought you a drink what would it be?
5) Favorite vegetable?
6) What was the last book you read?
7) What zodiac sign are you?
8) Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? Explain where.
9) Worst Habit?
10) If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
11) What is your favorite sport?
12) Do you have a Negative or Optimistic attitude?
13) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
14) Worst thing to ever happen to you?
15) Tell me one weird fact about you.
16) Do you have any pets?
17) What if i showed up at your house unexpectedly?
18) What was your first impression of me? (hmmm...careful!)
19) Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
20) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be?
21) Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
22) What color eyes do you have?
23) Ever been arrested?
24) Bottle or can soda?
25) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it?
27) What's your favorite place to hang at?
28) Do you believe in ghosts?
29) Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
30) Do you swear a lot?
31) Biggest pet peeve?
32) In one word, how would you describe yourself?
33) Do you believe/appreciate romance?
35) Do you believe in God?
36) Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you? |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=91.7){kind=small}
runawayvan's journal