Every time I try to write in this thing I end up erasing it halfway through. I decide that I can't write about the things I do in a funny enough fashion, so I just delete and go back to my daily routine of looking at Facebook photo albums of people I don't know. And not only that, many of the deleted entried have also started with "Every time I try to write in this thing I end up erasing it halfway through." So let's see if this one ever gets published. I've just painted myself into a corner, I suppose. I'm so clever and funny that it's hard to keep topping myself.
What have I been doing lately? Hmmmm...Well in Aesthetics & Storytelling II we had to make a story on the computer using nothing but sound. Voice over, music, sound effects, dialogue, that kind of thing. Well, a small known fact about me is that I hate to do things. Anything. I hate it. So needless to say the first half of Spring Break consisted of me telling myself "I'll do it tomorrow." Finally, since I was going home on Thursday, I realized that I had no choice but to go to the lab and get it done on Wednesday. I went to the lab Wednesday and the door was closed. I assumed that this meant that the lab was closed all of Spring Break. Relieved that I no longer had anything to do for the day, I left. I later discovered that the workers were just on lunch and that the lab was totally open. Ahhh well.
So the only time before class that I had was Tuesday for about 2 hours. I didn't get to record my dialogue with Ashley, nor did I get the sound clip of people yelling "Surprise!" which was somewhat important since the story is about a surprise party. So basically I had half a story and no "Surprise!" But due to some quick thinking and magnificent stage presence on my account, I managed to get by.
Oh! So on Sunday before I came back from home, my mom and I were arguing. Then I told her I was going out that night and going to go out and get drunk. I only said it to piss her off, but as a matter of fact my smart remark turned out to be a sort of prophecy. Turns out it was Dietz's birthday and Courtney through her a party at Tantrum. Now, for being a Sunday night I figured this would be a low key night. Sit around, have some drinks. Chill.
This was before the topless waitress arrived. This was before the stripper. This was before the 8 or 9 Blue Moons I consumed. This was before Jacob and the topless waitress were inexplicably tending the bar (and not charging). This was before I drew a cat on Kim's boob and started calling her "Kitty Titty". This is before I started flirting with Volpe's lesbian roommate. This was before Jacob made us minty green shots that Kim referred to as "some Goosebumps shit." This was before a lot of things. I left at about 7:30, telling everyone I'd be back soon. That I was just going to have a beer and wish Lindsey a happy birthday. And I meant it! Ahhhh welcome to college.
So that's that.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Saturday, March 25, 2006
I Got the Stuff You Got the Money?
I need a new bank. It's such a pain in the ass to go to National City. I can't switch now though. Mostly because I have pretty much no money. But also because it would further my bank's suspicion that I'm a drug dealer. Well, I guess they don't really believe that. Not yet, anyway. But the thing is I walk the dog, so I am always coming in and depositing checks for like 50 bucks. And then a few weeks ago I deposited 100 dollars cash. And the FLYMF check for $8.54. My job at Columbia is direct deposit, so the only thing the bank teller ever sees me do is deposit personal checks and cash. And it's always the same asian guy. I wouldn't be surprised if the next time he goes in he asks me for a dime bag.
I still don't even know my bank account number. Every week I come in and tell him "I don't know my account number but I wrote down my Social Security Number." I'm fairly certain that at this point he's memorized my account number, and thinks that I'm just too damn high to remember it. I like this bank because there is never a line. I walk in, fill out my deposit slip at the table with the chained pen and the conveniently updated calender (since the new phone doesn't display the date like the old one did, this countertop calender is a necessity) and walk right up to the counter. I hate waiting in line at the bank. Everybody in front of me is an asshole who is convinced that their monetary needs are more important than anything else, while everyone at the counter is taking so long that you can't help but wonder what the hell they are actually doing. Is this their first time coming to a bank ever? Are they getting a full overview? Who knows. I better get the teller with the dish of root beer candy.
Speaking of money, I think I'm out of a job. The telefund hasn't been going well. Turns out Alumni like to be called and asked for money about as much as I like calling them asking for it. This Tuesday is the "Mid-Telefund Evaluation" meeting. I'm pretty positive this is going to include them telling us to find new jobs. I'll miss it. It was an easy job.
So I'm at home for the weekend. Ashley and I came back Thursday night. We didn't leave until late because Jeff forced me to go look at the apartment with him. Forced, I say! I had no choice. Anyway we didn't leave Chicago until about 6, and after stopping at 10 different McDonalds to find the right coffee for Ashley, missing our exit in Indiana, and stopping for gas, we made it home around 11:30. I was worried I'd start to get tired and fall asleep, which would suck for Ashley, who was driving. Luckily she had Now That's What I Call Music Volume 2 on her, which kept us awake and energized the entire time. Now 2 is perfect. It's right before pop music became garbage. Robbie Williams, Semisonic, New Radicals...that kind of stuff. And admit it, "Baby One More Time" isn't THAT bad when you only listen to it once every 5 years.
I need to figure out what I'm doing with my life. I guess LA. I'm at Columbia for next year, then I will do Semester in LA in the summer and be done with school. From there, I don't know. Stay in LA? Back to Chicago? I guess it all depends. On one hand, I don't want to live in LA for the rest if my life. On the other hand, I truly wouldn't mind waiting tables at Bennigan's in Hollywood either. I want to write for TV. That's basically it. And I'm definitely aware of the whole disappointment and persistence aspect. But how long is too long? When do I give up and lower my goals and settle on something? I don't want to be 50 and giving tours of the NBC studio wondering what the hell I've done with my life. There's always DisneyLand if I need a job, I suppose.
I still don't even know my bank account number. Every week I come in and tell him "I don't know my account number but I wrote down my Social Security Number." I'm fairly certain that at this point he's memorized my account number, and thinks that I'm just too damn high to remember it. I like this bank because there is never a line. I walk in, fill out my deposit slip at the table with the chained pen and the conveniently updated calender (since the new phone doesn't display the date like the old one did, this countertop calender is a necessity) and walk right up to the counter. I hate waiting in line at the bank. Everybody in front of me is an asshole who is convinced that their monetary needs are more important than anything else, while everyone at the counter is taking so long that you can't help but wonder what the hell they are actually doing. Is this their first time coming to a bank ever? Are they getting a full overview? Who knows. I better get the teller with the dish of root beer candy.
Speaking of money, I think I'm out of a job. The telefund hasn't been going well. Turns out Alumni like to be called and asked for money about as much as I like calling them asking for it. This Tuesday is the "Mid-Telefund Evaluation" meeting. I'm pretty positive this is going to include them telling us to find new jobs. I'll miss it. It was an easy job.
So I'm at home for the weekend. Ashley and I came back Thursday night. We didn't leave until late because Jeff forced me to go look at the apartment with him. Forced, I say! I had no choice. Anyway we didn't leave Chicago until about 6, and after stopping at 10 different McDonalds to find the right coffee for Ashley, missing our exit in Indiana, and stopping for gas, we made it home around 11:30. I was worried I'd start to get tired and fall asleep, which would suck for Ashley, who was driving. Luckily she had Now That's What I Call Music Volume 2 on her, which kept us awake and energized the entire time. Now 2 is perfect. It's right before pop music became garbage. Robbie Williams, Semisonic, New Radicals...that kind of stuff. And admit it, "Baby One More Time" isn't THAT bad when you only listen to it once every 5 years.
I need to figure out what I'm doing with my life. I guess LA. I'm at Columbia for next year, then I will do Semester in LA in the summer and be done with school. From there, I don't know. Stay in LA? Back to Chicago? I guess it all depends. On one hand, I don't want to live in LA for the rest if my life. On the other hand, I truly wouldn't mind waiting tables at Bennigan's in Hollywood either. I want to write for TV. That's basically it. And I'm definitely aware of the whole disappointment and persistence aspect. But how long is too long? When do I give up and lower my goals and settle on something? I don't want to be 50 and giving tours of the NBC studio wondering what the hell I've done with my life. There's always DisneyLand if I need a job, I suppose.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
RetroBlogging
While I continue to work on Chapter 6 (I must admit, the thought of these things being published has really made writing them a lot more of a challenge) I have decided to start something new. You see, long long ago, the summer before I started college, I created a DeadJournal account. Not long after, I moved over to LiveJournal. Needless to say, I have quite a bit of old entries under my belt. Some of them are pretty interesting, so I've decided to start sharing some of the choice back entries.
This is one of my earliest ever. It's called "Cat Burglar" and was written on August 17th, 2002! I hadn't even moved out of my house yet.
So I had to break into my house just now. My brother decided to lock the door for once and I wasn't home. But it was pretty easy. While I was crawling through the window I realized that if i want to do anything, i can do it. It's not a matter or drive or persistance I don't think. It's a matter of I want it, so I'm gonna get it it.
The ice cream truck never comes past my house anymore. I can always hear his music but he's always in a different subdivision. It doesn't bother me as much as it should. When I was a kid staying at my grandmas house I was never allowed to get ice cream from the ice cream man. I always figured it was because she already had all sorts of shit in the freezer for me but I now realize that it was because my grandma lives in Detroit and her neighborhood is so ghetto I probably would have gotten shot dead on the sidewalk for my Screwball. Remember Screwballs? It was the nastiest kind of ice cream sherbet crap in a plastic cone with a gumball in the middle. For some reason we thought screwballs were the best because they had gum when looking back I could have saved my money and bought a pack of bubblicious or something.
Everyone is going away. It's actually pretty sad. Some people have left and a lot more leave this week. It's kind of like the week before Christmas. You know Christmas is coming up really soon but you just can't believe it and you feel as though its a lot farther away than it really is. I know I'll see the people that I care about again and that it's not really goodbye but it's still kind of sad. It doesn't make me happy. You know what else doesn't make me happy is the chicken whopper at Burger King. It's just a frikkin' chicken sandwich! It tastes exactly the same as the other chicken sandwich. I don't know what I was expecting but the chicken whopper was definately an underwhelming experience.
Don't you like how I go from a sentimental feeling of my friends going away to bitching about a sandwich at Burger King? Tell me, is it aggravating or just another one of my charming quirks?
Here's one from a few months later. Halfway through my Freshman year at WMU. It's called "2002 in Review" and was written January 2nd, 2003.
Good things:
Graduating, leaving behind the shitheads in Novi, The Vines, "The Rules Of Attraction", late night trips to Denny's with Cody, California with Brent, chilaxing on Robbie's couch, going to Western, partying at Western, Home Town Hero, New Years at Ashley's, the A*Teens concert, hanging out with Alicia again, Halloween, the day after Halloween, meeting Lit with Brynne, drinking in the girls bathroom at 6 AM, getting 5th in the state for Forensics with Todd, snowboarding, turning 18, Mychelle Hopkins jokes, "Kiss Of The Spiderwoman" with Carissa, smoker's island, tape recording strange conversations, Power Stone 2, laying by the pool at Redwood, laying by my pool at home, working at Leslie's, quitting PacSun, Bronco Days, buying little boys Superman underwear and T-Shirts, Canada with Danny, "Gangs Of New York", FM Nation, the rec, WATER'S COMING!, trying out for Real World in Chicago with Mark and Sarah, 8- Legged Freaks, Seeing Jay Leno, Uncle Jim's crazy antics, Sand Castles with Brent, Bad TV with Ashwini, and more...
Bad things...
THAI FOOD!!!! The last semester of Senior year, half the people I graduated with, bouts of random depression, my roommate, getting in trouble at NBC, WB, and Nickelodeon studios, Christian Slater sightings, breaking up with Robbie, scars from punching walls, cell phone troubles, Avril Lavigne, people being in my room when I want to sleep, Real World Las Vegas, getting pulled over for not speeding, being written up twice for stupid things I'm innocent of, walking to class in the rain, the last 3 weeks at Pacific Sunwear, being bored over summer, reading for class, and so on...
And one more. From January 15th, 2003. A short entry entitled "My roommate isn't up for his class and I'm not going to wake him!"
Funny Observation Of The Day:
The black female bus driver that always yells at us to move to the back of the bus
Things I Have Injured This Weekend While Drunk:
-Split my chin running into a door
-Rug burn on my left arm as a result of being tackled after an unsuccessful doorbell ditch
-Bruise on front top of head from bathroom wall
-Bruise on back of head from falling down stairs
-Bruised knee, causes unknown
-Scratched right leg, causes unknown
-Bruised right arm, causes unknown
-Scratched knuckles from punching the door I split my chin on
Who the hell was I?
Chapter 6. Coming eventually. I promise.
This is one of my earliest ever. It's called "Cat Burglar" and was written on August 17th, 2002! I hadn't even moved out of my house yet.
So I had to break into my house just now. My brother decided to lock the door for once and I wasn't home. But it was pretty easy. While I was crawling through the window I realized that if i want to do anything, i can do it. It's not a matter or drive or persistance I don't think. It's a matter of I want it, so I'm gonna get it it.
The ice cream truck never comes past my house anymore. I can always hear his music but he's always in a different subdivision. It doesn't bother me as much as it should. When I was a kid staying at my grandmas house I was never allowed to get ice cream from the ice cream man. I always figured it was because she already had all sorts of shit in the freezer for me but I now realize that it was because my grandma lives in Detroit and her neighborhood is so ghetto I probably would have gotten shot dead on the sidewalk for my Screwball. Remember Screwballs? It was the nastiest kind of ice cream sherbet crap in a plastic cone with a gumball in the middle. For some reason we thought screwballs were the best because they had gum when looking back I could have saved my money and bought a pack of bubblicious or something.
Everyone is going away. It's actually pretty sad. Some people have left and a lot more leave this week. It's kind of like the week before Christmas. You know Christmas is coming up really soon but you just can't believe it and you feel as though its a lot farther away than it really is. I know I'll see the people that I care about again and that it's not really goodbye but it's still kind of sad. It doesn't make me happy. You know what else doesn't make me happy is the chicken whopper at Burger King. It's just a frikkin' chicken sandwich! It tastes exactly the same as the other chicken sandwich. I don't know what I was expecting but the chicken whopper was definately an underwhelming experience.
Don't you like how I go from a sentimental feeling of my friends going away to bitching about a sandwich at Burger King? Tell me, is it aggravating or just another one of my charming quirks?
Here's one from a few months later. Halfway through my Freshman year at WMU. It's called "2002 in Review" and was written January 2nd, 2003.
Good things:
Graduating, leaving behind the shitheads in Novi, The Vines, "The Rules Of Attraction", late night trips to Denny's with Cody, California with Brent, chilaxing on Robbie's couch, going to Western, partying at Western, Home Town Hero, New Years at Ashley's, the A*Teens concert, hanging out with Alicia again, Halloween, the day after Halloween, meeting Lit with Brynne, drinking in the girls bathroom at 6 AM, getting 5th in the state for Forensics with Todd, snowboarding, turning 18, Mychelle Hopkins jokes, "Kiss Of The Spiderwoman" with Carissa, smoker's island, tape recording strange conversations, Power Stone 2, laying by the pool at Redwood, laying by my pool at home, working at Leslie's, quitting PacSun, Bronco Days, buying little boys Superman underwear and T-Shirts, Canada with Danny, "Gangs Of New York", FM Nation, the rec, WATER'S COMING!, trying out for Real World in Chicago with Mark and Sarah, 8- Legged Freaks, Seeing Jay Leno, Uncle Jim's crazy antics, Sand Castles with Brent, Bad TV with Ashwini, and more...
Bad things...
THAI FOOD!!!! The last semester of Senior year, half the people I graduated with, bouts of random depression, my roommate, getting in trouble at NBC, WB, and Nickelodeon studios, Christian Slater sightings, breaking up with Robbie, scars from punching walls, cell phone troubles, Avril Lavigne, people being in my room when I want to sleep, Real World Las Vegas, getting pulled over for not speeding, being written up twice for stupid things I'm innocent of, walking to class in the rain, the last 3 weeks at Pacific Sunwear, being bored over summer, reading for class, and so on...
And one more. From January 15th, 2003. A short entry entitled "My roommate isn't up for his class and I'm not going to wake him!"
Funny Observation Of The Day:
The black female bus driver that always yells at us to move to the back of the bus
Things I Have Injured This Weekend While Drunk:
-Split my chin running into a door
-Rug burn on my left arm as a result of being tackled after an unsuccessful doorbell ditch
-Bruise on front top of head from bathroom wall
-Bruise on back of head from falling down stairs
-Bruised knee, causes unknown
-Scratched right leg, causes unknown
-Bruised right arm, causes unknown
-Scratched knuckles from punching the door I split my chin on
Who the hell was I?
Chapter 6. Coming eventually. I promise.
Monday, March 13, 2006
I had a paper to write. It required six sources. I was all ready to do it until I made the startling discovery that none of the sources can be from the internet. This sucks pretty bad, as I have no sources at all and the paper is due tomorrow. I guess I'll turn it in late.
I'm having a hard time distracting myself from homework lately. I've seen everything on Facebook and there's nothing on Google Earth that I haven't looked up. Not having myspace anymore has also cut down on things to do when I'm bored.
I'll just go to bed.
I'm having a hard time distracting myself from homework lately. I've seen everything on Facebook and there's nothing on Google Earth that I haven't looked up. Not having myspace anymore has also cut down on things to do when I'm bored.
I'll just go to bed.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Mean Green Machine
I got two e-mails from my teacher. The first was a reminder to sign up for extra lab time outside of class to finish our projects. The second was an e mail specifically to a girl who had missed class 3 times from being sick. The e mail went into detail on how she can't get anything higher than a C on any assignment for the rest of the semester. She can't miss or be late again or she fails. She is on "probation." I just can't figure out why the teacher would send that e mail to the entire class. Doesn't that seem wrong? That's gotta go against student/teacher confidentiality or something. If it was my problem and the teacher sent an e-mail to the whole class, I'd be pissed. Wouldn't you? Call now to vote! Press 1 for yes, 2 for no.
We signed a lease. We got an apartment. It's in Lincoln Park on W. Lill right by the Fullerton stop. Super close to the L, bars, DePaul parties, and restaurants open past 8 pm. I'm really excited, it's gonna be fun. Matt and I signed for the place because Jeff was out of town, and I feel really bad about doing that to Jeff but the place is awesome and I know he'll like it. The rooms are all big and the same size, which was key.
I met with the guys from the agency at the portfolio center on Friday. It was both good and bad. It was good because I got some really helpful information about writing for television. It was bad because when he picked up my script he said "I just didn't get it." At first I was disappointed. I mean, since I was half expecting him to love Off The Clock and want to see it to Showtime and move me to Hollywood to start working immediately, "I just didn't get it" was not quite the best case scenario. Then I realized he didn't even read the script. He read the first few sentences of the treatement (synopsis of the show) and that's it. So I learned the greatest lesson of all from him. People in the industry are not my teachers. My teachers get paid to read my stuff. It is their responsibilty to go from start to finish. This guy didn't have to do that. And the first sentence wasn't good enough for him so he put it back into my olive green Five Star folder from Mead and went on to something else. Disappointing...but a good lesson.
So...this weekend. Well...Baggy seemed upset that he missed all of the events but I can assure everyone this weekend was no more special than last weekend and will most likely be no more special than next weekend. It was fun and all, don't get me wrong.
I was going to write a little recap of everything that happened this weekend but I realized that every story would start with "I didn't want to go but I did anyway and it was fun." I need to improve this attitude. Every time we go out I refuse. Then I go and its good times.
Highlights of the weekend include:
Actually getting SLC for once.
Libby declaring her bisexuality to 7-11 and Jimmy Ray.
Libby undeclaring her bisexuality the next morning.
The trip to the train after the party on Belmont.
The awesome weather.
Hearing about Ryan's incident in the hallway.
And this:
We signed a lease. We got an apartment. It's in Lincoln Park on W. Lill right by the Fullerton stop. Super close to the L, bars, DePaul parties, and restaurants open past 8 pm. I'm really excited, it's gonna be fun. Matt and I signed for the place because Jeff was out of town, and I feel really bad about doing that to Jeff but the place is awesome and I know he'll like it. The rooms are all big and the same size, which was key.
I met with the guys from the agency at the portfolio center on Friday. It was both good and bad. It was good because I got some really helpful information about writing for television. It was bad because when he picked up my script he said "I just didn't get it." At first I was disappointed. I mean, since I was half expecting him to love Off The Clock and want to see it to Showtime and move me to Hollywood to start working immediately, "I just didn't get it" was not quite the best case scenario. Then I realized he didn't even read the script. He read the first few sentences of the treatement (synopsis of the show) and that's it. So I learned the greatest lesson of all from him. People in the industry are not my teachers. My teachers get paid to read my stuff. It is their responsibilty to go from start to finish. This guy didn't have to do that. And the first sentence wasn't good enough for him so he put it back into my olive green Five Star folder from Mead and went on to something else. Disappointing...but a good lesson.
So...this weekend. Well...Baggy seemed upset that he missed all of the events but I can assure everyone this weekend was no more special than last weekend and will most likely be no more special than next weekend. It was fun and all, don't get me wrong.
I was going to write a little recap of everything that happened this weekend but I realized that every story would start with "I didn't want to go but I did anyway and it was fun." I need to improve this attitude. Every time we go out I refuse. Then I go and its good times.
Highlights of the weekend include:
Actually getting SLC for once.
Libby declaring her bisexuality to 7-11 and Jimmy Ray.
Libby undeclaring her bisexuality the next morning.
The trip to the train after the party on Belmont.
The awesome weather.
Hearing about Ryan's incident in the hallway.
And this:
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
what was it again?
I had something good to talk about. Something that I thought was really super interesting. I can't remember what it was though. It wasn't about cats, or Taco Bell, or computers. It wasn't about Three's Company or deodorant or Van Halen. It wasn't about Coke or avacados or buttermilk. I just don't remember. Hmmmm...
The bet is almost over. Can we please continue to talk about who jerks off and when once the bet is over, guys? Please? I'd hate to see such an interesting conversation topic disappear. Truly. I barely even throw up in my mouth at all when it's brought up now.
Ever have those restless nights where you don't want to do anything? There's nothing on TV. You hate all of your movies. There is no music you want to listen to. You have no homework. Your room is clean. You don't want to hang out. You want to do something...but there's nothing you want to do. I had that tonight. But there was a show about a family of dwarfs on TLC that kept me semi-interested. Until I fell asleep.
I call it the Wednesday night lull. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday I am on the go, busy working and going to class and doing homework. I'm barely at home for more than 5 minutes between 9 am and 9pm. Then I get to Wednesday, and although I've still got a bit of stuff to do on Thursday, I'm pretty much done. But I'm still in productive mode. I still feel I should be doing things. Making things. Getting stuff done.
I'm trying to be funny write now, I really am. I'd like to come up with puns and anecdotes for you, since I know that's why you come to this page. That's why you have it bookmarked, right? I'm not in a bad mood. I'm really not. I'm fairly content, I'd say. I just don't feel like being funny. Or writing funny. Hmmm...or writing at all, for that matter.
The bet is almost over. Can we please continue to talk about who jerks off and when once the bet is over, guys? Please? I'd hate to see such an interesting conversation topic disappear. Truly. I barely even throw up in my mouth at all when it's brought up now.
Ever have those restless nights where you don't want to do anything? There's nothing on TV. You hate all of your movies. There is no music you want to listen to. You have no homework. Your room is clean. You don't want to hang out. You want to do something...but there's nothing you want to do. I had that tonight. But there was a show about a family of dwarfs on TLC that kept me semi-interested. Until I fell asleep.
I call it the Wednesday night lull. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday I am on the go, busy working and going to class and doing homework. I'm barely at home for more than 5 minutes between 9 am and 9pm. Then I get to Wednesday, and although I've still got a bit of stuff to do on Thursday, I'm pretty much done. But I'm still in productive mode. I still feel I should be doing things. Making things. Getting stuff done.
I'm trying to be funny write now, I really am. I'd like to come up with puns and anecdotes for you, since I know that's why you come to this page. That's why you have it bookmarked, right? I'm not in a bad mood. I'm really not. I'm fairly content, I'd say. I just don't feel like being funny. Or writing funny. Hmmm...or writing at all, for that matter.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
This is a True Story
The first time I ever came to Chicago was to audition for The Real World: Paris. I came with Mark and Sarah. We got up at about 5 in the morning, drove out here, and stood in line for about 8 hours while we waited to go into the interview. For some reason the people running this thought it was a good idea to give you the application as soon as you arrived. So you filled out an application, then had a good 8 hours to step on it, roll it up, fold it, drop it in a puddle, and tear it. Once it was finally my turn, I was brought into this lounge area for the group interview. The group interview lasted about 20 minutes, and consisted of me rolling my eyes while a bunch of attention starved idiots went on and on about themselves, trying desperately to be noticed. No, I don't want to see you dance, dude. I'm sorry your dad is in jail but you are still boring, go home.
It was a waste of time, but I guess a good story to tell. But anyway, that's neither here nor there. The point is, when we came out here, we saw David from The Real World: New Orleans. So I knew what he looked like in person, and I knew he lived in Chicago. Which leads me to my next story.
David works at the Ritz Carlton off of Pearson. I swear to you. I was walking to my cousin's today and I saw this guy and I thought to myself "That kind of looks like David from Real World," and then I remembered he was in Chicago, and then I looked at his name tag. David. Coincidence? Fuck no. It was him. It was him for sure. He's a manager or something high up like that I guess. I make this judgement based on the fact that he had a suit on. And he was on Real World.
This week is crazy busy. I've got to finish storyboarding and tape my P&E II project. I have to work on my A&S II sound project. I have reading for Critical Studies. I have a midterm next week to study for. I have a scene to memorize. Lots of stuff. Also, I'm taking my Off The Clock pilot, or at least the first two acts of it, to Show-Off on Friday for these guys from some LA agency to look at. I'm kind of scared, because it basically sucks. I guess there's really nothing to be afraid of. I'm doing it for the experience. I'll value their feedback. I'd like to hear what they have to say. But still. I think my dream job would be coming up with ideas for shows while someone else writes them. I'll help with funny lines and dialogue, but as for story progression and character development, well you can just do it yourself and fill me in on that later.
So my friends had that little formal this weekend. The one in the study lounge. The one I refused to go to because I thought it was dumb. Well....I went. I know, I know. Hypocrite. I suck. I'm a loser. And guess what? I had fun. I almost wish I was there longer. Ok, I was also pretty drunk, which is why I went in the first place, but I'm glad I went. I think. I even dressed up, See? Sometimes it's fun to get gussied up.
Friday, March 03, 2006
If your Uncle Jack was hanging off a cliff...
So the group has this no masturbation bet. For 6 weeks or something no one is allowed to masturbate and if you do you have to pay money. Ok, so here's my thing about that. It makes no sense. I mean, nobody mentions that they masturbated in normal situations, so why would anyone bring it up if they had to pay 5 dollars? I mean, say it's about truth and the honor system all you want, the fact is we are all human. The whole thing about masturbation is "everyone's doing it but nobody talks about it" which makes the entire bet irrelevant. Why? Because people don't talk about it. But for some reason now that you have to pay for it, a masturbation fee of some sorts, you think that people will admit? Now they are trying to switch it. No one is doing it and everyone is talking about it. It's like you're paying 5 dollars to tell people you just rubbed one out. That's just not right. If someone PAID me 5 dollars I'll give you all the dirty details, but for me to pay, thanks but no thanks.
It's early on, just wait for those basic instincts to kick in and one day someone will be alone in the room or in the shower or on the city bus and be like "Hey, I could do it right now and no one will know..." Because THAT is how masturbation works, regardless of any bet.
I've decided, and I KNOW Jess will agree with me, that the entire group is sexually repressed and is subconciously using this opportunity as an excuse to talk openly about their jerk off habits, which would otherwise be considered taboo.
It's early on, just wait for those basic instincts to kick in and one day someone will be alone in the room or in the shower or on the city bus and be like "Hey, I could do it right now and no one will know..." Because THAT is how masturbation works, regardless of any bet.
I've decided, and I KNOW Jess will agree with me, that the entire group is sexually repressed and is subconciously using this opportunity as an excuse to talk openly about their jerk off habits, which would otherwise be considered taboo.
Good Grief
Matt just assigned everyone Greek Gods. Very interesting, and I must say that I agree with most of what he said, and am quite happy with mine. However, he gave me an idea. And since I don't feel like studying anatomy right now (latissimus dorsi!) I am going to follow in Matt's footsteps. With....PEANUTS CHARACTERS!
Snoopy: Me.
A one-man show with superior intelligence and vivid imagination. Alter ego: Joe Cool.
Charlie Brown: Matt
He has a knack for putting himself down but is also pretty clever. His friends call him "wishy-washy," but his spirit will never give up in his quest to triumph.
Woodstock: Jill
Because of his size and the company he keeps, Woodstock is an accident waiting to happen.
Linus: Baggy
He is the intellectual of the gang, and flabbergasts his friends with his philosophical revelations and solutions to problems
Lucy: Jenny
She is loud and yells a lot. She's a know-it-all who dispenses advice.
Sally: Ashley
Sally, writing letters or doing homework, causes pain and joy to her fans in roughly equal proportions.
Schroeder: Dave
Reserved and usually unruffled, Schroeder reacts only when Woodstock tries to make his grand piano into a playground.
Peppermind Patty: Jess
What she lacks in common sense she makes up for in sincerity.
Marcie: Dani
The most naive. She's always willing to help out her friends with school work and she's not above sharing test answers.
Pigpen: Christian
Pigpen is happily messy. He doesn't try to explain it, hide it, fight it. For him, it's just a fact of life.
Snoopy: Me.
A one-man show with superior intelligence and vivid imagination. Alter ego: Joe Cool.
Charlie Brown: Matt
He has a knack for putting himself down but is also pretty clever. His friends call him "wishy-washy," but his spirit will never give up in his quest to triumph.
Woodstock: Jill
Because of his size and the company he keeps, Woodstock is an accident waiting to happen.
Linus: Baggy
He is the intellectual of the gang, and flabbergasts his friends with his philosophical revelations and solutions to problems
Lucy: Jenny
She is loud and yells a lot. She's a know-it-all who dispenses advice.
Sally: Ashley
Sally, writing letters or doing homework, causes pain and joy to her fans in roughly equal proportions.
Schroeder: Dave
Reserved and usually unruffled, Schroeder reacts only when Woodstock tries to make his grand piano into a playground.
Peppermind Patty: Jess
What she lacks in common sense she makes up for in sincerity.
Marcie: Dani
The most naive. She's always willing to help out her friends with school work and she's not above sharing test answers.
Pigpen: Christian
Pigpen is happily messy. He doesn't try to explain it, hide it, fight it. For him, it's just a fact of life.
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