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Part Of One
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Saturday, October 11, 2003

Saturday Night, It's All Right. 

Ten person redneck fight almost broke out in front of my house. Was about to call the cops when they showed up. Stupid punk teenagers. Found out they were by my car, I almost grabbed my huge ass walking stick and was about to make me some human cotton candy.

Spent the evening organizing my art files so I can make a portfolio proper. And it's done. And now I begin the portfolio fun.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 8:54 PM ::


Friday, October 10, 2003

The Focus Is Fuzzy. I May Die. 

My MS is fucking with my eye. I thought it was just my balance, but no, it's my eye, CAUSING my balance problems. I'm nauseas from eye strain. I'm either always wearing sunglasses, or I'm learning how to wear contacts and buying myself an eyepatch.

Speaking of...

Kill Bill: **

Eh. I just saw Kill Bill, and I only vaguely remember it. There's nothing to attach yourself to. The only thing that got me excited at all was the way the movie opened, and the giant sword fight at the end. Everything else just blurred together in a series of scenes with zero reason for anyone to actually watch. As scenes, they were okay individually, but, as a movie, it was just eh. As a two part movie, it's pointless. The anime scene was just a way for him to get more blood into the movie. And it completely disrupts the flow,
which is already screwed up, because he's doing his goofy, out of order chronology thing again.

But, I give him credit for the opening, which was one of those cheesy seventies, scratchy, "feature presentation" things.

So yeah. The soundtrack is good at least. Too bad the movie is missing something.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 7:11 PM ::


Wednesday, October 08, 2003

My Head Is Spinning. It's The Devil Calling. 

Bravo creates coolest documentary they've ever had.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 7:32 PM ::

Grog! Grog! 

I usually feel alone in my lonliness, but this whole sports thing just completely alienates. People who don't care are suddenly caring. And I'm stuck with the cheese, standing alone.

Grrr!

Luckily it's all on FOX, and there's nothing I watch on FOX. So, at least MY television viewing isn't changing.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 7:24 PM ::


Tuesday, October 07, 2003

I Never Thought We'd Be Laughing Together. 

Wrote a little more today. What with the editing and how I want the pages to go, I'm up to page 101 of my novel. It's a small modern miracle. 100 pages in and the plot finally kicks in. But the first half, life sorta got in the way.

Here's a little bit of the chapter I wrote tonight. I share the love:

A Long Way To Go
An Excerpt From Chapter Eighteen

I ran to Gabe’s car, and quickly got in. But it didn’t matter. I was drenched.

“This is fuckin’ unbelievable.” Gabe whistled as another crack of lightning lit up the sky.

“This is amazing.” I only smiled. Something felt different. I could only smile.

Gabe must have noticed the look on my face. “What’s with the goofball grin there, sparky?”

“It’s a moment. I’m enjoying it. It doesn’t happen often. So please. Let me linger in my thoughts.” I kept watching the light display above us. Even has he pulled out of my driveway and headed towards Jen’s house.

I wasn’t wrong about the streets being flooded. The main road to the highway, which is sad when you think about the fact my town only really has one main road to the highway, was pretty flooded. Cars could still get by, but it was slow going. Gabe voiced his concern that we could stall the engine, but I convinced him that there wouldn’t be a problem. He believed me and gunned the car.

“Holy hell. Look at this, Doug. It hasn’t fuckin’ stormed like this in a forever day.” Cars couldn’t be seen going more than twenty-five miles per hour. But, I was trying to figure out where all the water was coming from. Yes. It was raining. I know the basics of the weather system, but it didn’t seem to be raining that hard.

“This is amazing.” I said again.

“You’re repeating yourself.” Doug kept his eye on the road.

“I have very little to say. I could say it was awesome, and it has struck a decent amount of awe into me. I am speechless. This humble man cowers before the power of nature.”

He told me it was good to hear me speaking like, well, me again.

“Yeah. It’s truly amazing how a severe breakup followed by a life changing medical diagnosis can really get you to lose yourself for a period of time.” I rolled my eyes at him. It’s good to hear me talk like me again. Dick.

That’s when the wall of water hit us.

“What the FUCK was that?!” Gabe pulled to the side of the road.

“I think we died.” I looked back and couldn’t see anything that may have caused it. And I’m pretty sure that when we tell this story years from now that no one will believe a wall of water appeared out of nowhere as we got into the southbound traffic of I-55.

But it did. Water. A giant fucking wall of it. We had looked forward to see our vision blurred by an entire wall of water, and behind it, was nothing. The car rocked, as if to look at us and go “what the FUCK just happened. You saw it too, right?” Not even rain followed that event.

“If that’s not a fuckin’ omen, I don’t know what is.” Gabe was legitimately freaked out. He was laughing nervously, and that only made it funnier for me. Adrenaline was rushing through my system. This whole storm re-energized me. I couldn’t explain it. But I felt electric.

“Omen? As in, ‘I did it all for you, Damien’? That kind of omen? We’re fine. We’re still alive. It’s just rain. If the gods were really angry at us, they’d probably strike us down with disease. Oh. Never mind.” I laughed.

Few people find terminal disease jokes funny.

I’m learning this slowly.

“Look. I continued. We can’t turn back now. We’re on the road. This is the beginning. And any good story needs a good beginning. And what better beginning do we have then the one just happened. We can now start our road trip story with, ‘It was a dark and stormy night.’ We could probably throw in a man with a meat hook for good measure. Get Jennifer Love Hewitt to star, and we’re both rich. Let us go!” I pointed forward dramatically.

“Fine. You’re right. Call Jen. Tell her we’ll be late on account of mysterious walls of water. And if it continues, that I will probably wet myself, and we’ll be stopping to change my pants.”

“I can only hope you’re using the royal ‘we’ in this case, because I will not be helping you with anything involving that area of your body.” I looked at him while dialing my cell phone.

The phone call was quick and to the point. We’d be there when we’d be there. And our story had it’s beginning.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 9:01 PM ::

It's Endless. The Choices. 

Cufflink choices. I can't decide.

We have these:


Or these:


Or these:


Or these:


(Can you tell I'm bored?)

Or even these:

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 7:36 PM ::


Monday, October 06, 2003

Vicodin. You Are A Friend Indeed. 

I'm ultra woozy. I took some pain pills to ease my pain. And I just realized how suicidal that truly sounded. But seriously, I'm in pain. I took half a day to head to up to Chicago and become one with the Art Institute. When my head gets too loud I end up there. I call it finding my center. I start in the buddhist section and snake my way to the modern art, where I spend at least an hour staring at the work. And then I just roam. People watch. By the time I get to A Day In The Park, I'm pretty much done. By the time I end up in the furniture and religious iconography section I know I'm done.

But it empties out my thoughts. I feel better after I'm done there.

And then I got to work, where apparently I'm being passive-agressive by taking half a day off. Never mind the fact I nearly walked out on my job on Thursday, had a nervous breakdown, and was convinced that I had irrevocably damaged two of my friendships. It wasn't about me needing some quiet time. I was bein passive-agressive. I wouldn't be sharing that, as I'm not suppose to know, but, who from work, aside from AH is reading this? Definitely not my boss.

And if she is? Hello. Not welcome here.

I'm up to page 95 of my novel. I'm in awe of myself which sounds completely egotistical, but I've never written that much about one thing in my life.

I may share bits of it. I'm serious about getting it published. I think it would fit in nicely with the slightly aware, snarky books that seem to be all the rage.

Okay. I miss have MF within phone call distance. Not that we call each other that much, but now that she's not here, and on vacation, I feel the void. Or maybe I'm jealous that I'm not on vacation.

Still no good with the job hunting. It seems to be a dry well for designers at the moment.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 10:27 PM ::


Sunday, October 05, 2003

Seriously Folks. The Mascara Runs. 

At what point in my little history on the web have I talked about something that would somehow get Google to end up linking to a place like this.

I mean, I'm all for the goth girls, if it's done right. But I don't remember professing my love for the whores of satan. Did I? If I did, we're all in trouble.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 2:33 PM ::

Fucker In The Mini-Van. I'll Kill You. 

I nearly lost the front half of my car today. In a parking lot no less.

Parking lots aisles are usually one-way only. It's not fucking rocket science. But, for whatever reason, Soccer Mom Mini-Van person decided "Hey. I've never gone in reverse down a parking lot aisle before." Reverse lights come on, and next thing I know I have a mini-van coming towards me.

At first, I think they just need to back up a bit, so I toss it into reverse and inch back a couple feet. No. They're still coming. Faster and faster.

So, while I'm trying to drive in reverse while making sure that no one is behind me, I'm also trying to lay on the horn. It's at this time in my life I'd like a horn that screamed, "STUPID MOTHER FUCKER! PLEASE DIE NOW!" The van finally stopped, and I could almost visualize the person in the driver's seat going, "Oh. That's right. I'm not supposed to go backwards down the lane. Duh." I could also see them going, "What's your fucking problem, Mr. Horation Horn-Blower." Of course, they probably aren't smart enough to make that reference, as their car was dirty and slightly rust-covered, so I can only image they don't take the time to read if their car actually ended up with rust on it.

But, it PISSED me off. I was all set to get out of my car and follow them to where they parked to ask them why they were so stupid.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 12:03 PM ::

He Is Our Hero. Must Stop. 

Spider:***

I'm bouncing back and forth with the grade here. It wasn't a bad movie, but I also kept checking the time, so it couldn't have been a great movie. Ralph Fiennes is amazing, and for a brief period towards the last third of the movie, where you have no fucking clue what's going on anymore, I was enthralled. But, for the most part, it was two hours of watching this sad case of a man try to fight his mental state, and lose the battle. It was interesting. It was entertaining, but it wasn't as great as I was hoping it would be, or even as creepy as the trailers made it out to be.

I mean, the trailers REALLY focused on his obsession with creating the webs with string. But it wasn't a big focus of the movie. It existed. Maybe, the main problem is that I was expecting this creepy spook filled movie, and got a very slow and sad drama instead.

But Ralph Fiennes was amazing.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 10:06 AM ::

It's A Rolling Stone. It's A Rock. 

School Of Rock: ****
Four stars is good. It's the first Richard Linklater film I really dug. Call me an art phony, but his other movies had the appeal of an all day church festival to me. I couldn't get through Waking Life. The first 7 minutes were enough to have me turn away. And, while I'm a huge fan of characters talking and interacting with each other, that seemed to be all that Linklater was about.

Yet, I was interested to see how this guy, who has repeatedly bored me, would handle a "family" comedy starring Jack Black.

And the answer is, suprisingly well. There were a couple slow minutes, but overall, I really dug the film. It was like Mr. Holland's Opus minus the the sugary treacle. And funny. It was also funny. And, in the case of this film, the song you wait the entire movie to hear is honestly, very very good. Unlike the weird new-agey "opus" that's played at the end of the other film.

Jack Black is funny. But, I couldn't help but feel that a lot of this was taken straight from the idea of Tenacious D. And maybe that's what I was suppose to feel. I felt like I was staring at JB during certain scenes and not Dewey.

The kids were amazing. And to think they could actually play those instruments in real life as well as they do in the movie? Crazy.
And it was a good family film. I have a feeling it got the PG-13 because of the multitude of people saying "ass" but seriously, so much better than taking to see a movie like Good Boy. The kids who WERE in the theater were laughing like fools.

That's always a good thing.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 10:01 AM ::

A Blur. A Flash. It's All So Quick. 

Weekends should be four days long. Or at least three. I don't like waking up on Sunday and realizing, "Oh crap. It's Sunday. Work begins again tomorrow. Now I'm sad."

The weekend has been a blur. So much has happened.


  1. Purchased the doman to Red Pen Design. There's a basic main page up there right now. MF and MM are all for it. NP is also good to go. But she wants to involve like 5 other people, so I have to tell her that if this does become a company, there wouldn't be enough money to support a staff of 10.
  2. Gave AH a rundown on why I'm so fucked up. She was never around when the fucking up of me happened. Lethargy ensued.
  3. Saw School of Rock. Review shall be coming shortly.
  4. Went to dinner with NP. One vegetarian patty melt later, I now feel like I may die.
  5. And I bought a suit. It's crazy. I didn't plan on buying a suit, it just sorta happened. But now I can play dress up. I can dress up gangster style for the Lion King musical. I can dress up gangster style for MF's birthday hellapalooza. I can dress up gangster style for job interviews. Now I just need some kick ass cufflinks to go with the whole thing. I found some wicked pentagram ones, and some really cool skull ones, but I think I've spent enough dress money for the week.


Time to go watch Spider. I never got around to it last week.

M.R. spoke from beyond the grave :: 7:24 AM ::