It's a blog. The only difference between it and millions of other blogs is it's MY blog.
It can be random, profane, profound or stupid. Sometimes all at once. But I do try to entertain, even as I write far too much. Ha ha.
Okay, I didn't want to make a blog of this particularly like some fucking high school kid but I don't have anyone to talk to about this and I want to get it out of my head before I leave for the evening.
I was just sort of idly clicking around on Facebook, and I suddenly discovered the Facebook version of blogs (these "note" things). Specifically, the "Notes" of the girl who recently dumped me.
I swear I wasn't snooping, or FB-stalking, nothing like that. But something caught my eye and before I knew it I was reading about how she was so tired of being single, wondering what love was, listing all these things she loved about love, on and on. These had all been written like a month before our first date.
And I'm now sitting here with an industrial-size shitload of what the fuck, because this girl had it all handed to her on a silver platter and she didn't want it. She sent it back. With a note.
Now I swear I was being pretty restrained with the whole "let's mock up a thing" bit. I really was. Granted, I was a little giddy at first, but even that wasn't overwrought. I was very careful not to run roughshod all over this chick and get ahead of myself.
As I've alluded to elsewhere, the exception on this (and a fairly big one) was that we got nekkid a bit too soon. But that wasn't my idea, it was hers. And that's the big WTF, here. There was OBVIOUSLY an attraction there, okay. It's not like I was pursuing someone I had no business pursuing. She was digging it.
Until she wasn't. I don't send her a lot of comm lately, but she doesn't even return a "Merry Christmas" text; that's kind of fucked. She's totally backed out.
Now, I know the mechanics of this so I do know what's going on, in part. What I don't get is, well, what the hell was so wrong with me that I could be nearly everything she wanted in a man and still fall short?
Because I've spent a good portion of my life learning what the ladies like or want and knowing how to provide it. They all say they want ______ in a man and so I incorporate that into my actions. It's not even like it's some "trying too hard" thing. I'm not "trying hard" at all. I'm simply providing what apparently is needed and wanted. It's really not complicated.
(Of course, if what they want is six-pack abs and shit like that, well, I don't have those at present. But if they're THAT shallow, I'm not interested anyway.)
Somehow it's hasn't been enough, and THAT is what I do not understand.
Fuck. Maybe it's just the whole romanticism thing. Maybe it was a young girl who doesn't know what she wants, or some shit. I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong so I could fix it. Not with her, necessarily, but for the future.
Today I read an article about the surprising changes seen by department store Santas in the kids' wishes. Instead of wishing for toys, they were asking for socks, shoes, eyeglasses. Yeah, it's sad that someone as young as five would be asking Santa for a job for his father, but I tend to look on the bright side of things.
America is learning some hard lessons right now, but by so learning, I think we can expect something of a Renaissance of Western culture and more to the point, a resurgence of what makes America great.
Look at what the Depression did for America, what it gave (at least from what I can tell): People who knew the value of a dollar, who understood that hard work and general productivity was essential to survival, people who learned and proved their mettle by surmounting obstacles and making things go right in spite of all. These people were tough, they were effective, they were honest, and they weren't whiny assholes.
I do realize I speak in broad generalities and gross simplicities, but hear me out.
The current "Entitlement Generation", to me, smacks of the Victorian-Era "idle rich"; and we all know how those guys turned out. Anyone who thinks the world owes them anything is going to be getting a ruder-than-usual surprise if they're just hitting the job markets around now.
Compared to Generations X and Y, kids today are facing some tough shit, it's true. And it does make me a little sad, that a lot of kids are having to grow up a little faster. But only a little sad. Because prolonging childhood into the 20s hasn't done the world that much good. It's just given us the "Me Generation", the "Entitlement Generation", slackers, emos, it goes on. People, in short, who think they deserve the fruits of civilization simply by having been born in one, rather than by contributing to it.
It's given us reality TV, breast implants, MySpace suicides and Tila Tequila. It's given us a country with a ridiculously disproportionate, twisted set of priorities.
The great men in history got their start early. Part of it was the educational system at the time: until I think the 20th century, schooling often included apprenticeships, which began as young as ten or twelve but rarely older than 14. Or of course the kids in rural areas were intimately involved in the farm work, which is where the current school schedule came from.
The point is, being made to take responsibility at an early age does make for healthier, saner and entirely less emo populations.
In present time, I think it's pretty hard to hide the fact that times are tough from any kid with half a brain. And I truly believe that not only will they learn from parents having to rise to new levels of ingenuity, but they will learn that the same thing is required of them, to make it out there. Knowing early on that the world isn't all rainbows and puppy dogs might make them more determined to make it so.
The children of the last significant economic downturn gave us the moon.
So it's getting toward the end of 2009, and that means New Year's resolutions.
Some of these are the kind of things that show up every year, and of course when you say it you mean it but by February it's all gone, right?
Well, I really mean all of these things and I'm actually going to make it a personal game to see how many of these I can actually accomplish. I'm going for all of them.
1) Get in shape. This one is predictable, yes. But it's also multi-faceted. I want to get everything sorted, body wise. That means new hearing aid, new glasses; it means losing the gut but also actually being fairly fit, not merely emaciated. It means cutting way down on the alcohol, caffeine, cigarettes, sugar and generally unhealthy food. I'm not going to go total health nut, but there's still definitely room for improvement.
Also getting in shape does mean spiritually as well. I've made some progress on that in the past year, but really not nearly enough -- only really worked on it for two months! This year, I'm getting through all the books and whatnot, that I've been neglecting all this time, but also I'm just going to rock with the other stuff. I'm being vague because most of my readers won't know what I'm talking about; suffice it to say there is a big goal (though not the end) and there are approximately five more steps I have to take to reach it. Ideally I would like to have made the goal by this time next year, but at the very least I want to have made three of those steps.
I really think doing this will help with the next thing.
2) Get into a proper relationship with someone. This one is also a recurring theme, yeah. But it also has a lot of sub-products or sides to it. One of them is I need to really get myself out there, to actually meet someone. This is probably going to mean I have to do a fair amount of girl shopping -- which I kind of hate -- but so be it. The important thing, I think, is to be shopping in the right places. Because I really have not been (until kind of recently).
Ironically though I think the only way I'm going to get what I want here is by not being in such a hurry about it. That's one thing that I learned in my most recent relationship fiasco. I wonder if I hadn't boned her so early, maybe she would've been willing to have a relationship that lasted longer than a weekend. True, if I hadn't done it then, it may never have happened at all, but that's a risk I should start taking. It's not like I'm lacking for sexual experiences here.
It's not just the sex of course, but that was a weird enough thought that I had to share it. Because it's usually not something a guy would consider, ha ha.
3) That of course means I need to be making a lot more money. I've mentioned in earlier blogs, the whole thing about needing to kick things into gear, etc. etc. Well, that's still true, although things HAVE started rolling. It's not a product yet.
It's not just about the money; it's also about doing what I love and want to do in my life. But it does so happen that those things can and should be monetized, too.
So I resolve to do lots of writing and actually start sending things out and around. That's to happen pretty early on, mind. Like before my birthday in March. I want to have stuff out there while I'm working on other stuff.
Also I will get the webcomic truly live online, regularly being updated and acting as an income source.
Also I will be promoting and selling my services as a proofreader, for which I could make some pretty good money.
4) Isn't it kinda cool how these each lead to the next? Because my next resolution is to get my own place (for which I will NEED to be making pretty good money). And by "my own place" I really mean "my own place". No roommates, unless it's the girlfriend mentioned above. MY PLACE. And it can't be some shithole either, but a place I can be proud and happy to live in.
Seriously, I should be able to do this. Fuck the "economy is bad" shit. My car will be paid off this year; my DAY JOB income is going to at least double by March, to say nothing of what I can earn from my other three income sources (proofreading, writing, webcomic). It shouldn't be THAT huge a deal, financially.
Yeah, maybe I'll be lonelier, but fuck it, that will force me to work harder to fix the problem, won't it.
So yeah, I think that covers it for now. But these aren't even resolutions for the END of the year. I think that's another error people make. The end of the next year is far away. I'm gonna target this shit out to happen DURING the year. And most of it done by July.
Anyone else wanna get on board with their resolutions? Come play the game with me!
I was going to write this whole big blog about love - being that my mind is on the subject lately - but after like six drafts it still wasn't happening. And I realized it's because I've been approaching it from the wrong angle.
What bugs the living shit out of me is how love is made to be so complicated. And I think it's because people don't take responsibility for their own emotions - or even know they can.
See, every time I've fallen in love - and it's only been like two or three times - I've consciously decided to do so. To me, it's relatively simple. If I think I have a chance with the girl, if I like her and all that - well, at some point I decide to love them.
It's more than just "like a lot". Because how many people do you like a lot - even say you love - but you don't consider having a relationship with them? I've got lady friends that I love, but I'd never have a relationship with them.
Sure, there are a lot of reasons the whole thing can be made complicated, but to me, simplicity is power. And I get really frustrated when people need to add a whole bunch of shit to things, and most especially this.
It does seem like the prevailing belief is that love "just happens" or you need to really know someone well before you get into a relationship.
I disagree, vehemently. TRUE: You don't wanna get married too soon, because being with someone for the rest of your life and raising kids and stuff - you do need to have grown pretty close. But marriage is a stage in a relationship. You do build up to that.
Creating a relationship starts a whole lot sooner than that. Even maybe before you decide you love them. Especially in this day and age, people date for years before they get engaged, then they hang around being engaged for a while before finally getting married. There's a lot of time added into it.
When do you decide to start creating the relationship though? When are you "in a relationship"? When do you fall in love?
To my way of thinking, that happens pretty early on, provided there is genuine liking and attraction on both sides. If there is, why mess around?
I'd like to say this doesn't have anything to do with my current life. And in a way, it doesn't. But recent events sure have brought it to mind.
I just wish it didn't have to be so damned complicated, when it's so simple for me. I know, I grew up in a different world, with different rules. Maybe I'm a fool for expecting them to hold true in this one.
But love makes fools of us all, doesn't it?
Postscript: No, I have not fallen in love again. It's not safe to, yet. But I could, in a flash. If only things were simpler.
I have what my people call a high speed of particle flow. It basically means when I'm engaged in some activity, I go all Taz on it until it's done.
This is at once a terrific asset (work) and a terrible liability (relationships).
In direct contradiction to this, or maybe because of it, I do like to stop and chill. This can become a problem.
See, I'm about ready to move into the next phase of my life, which involves having my own family. Meanwhile, my existing family (particularly my parents) aren't exactly set for retirement at the moment. My mom was just telling me about this great program she's doing to improve her finances. She's trying to get debt-free and independent.
Also I do have a (relatively small) collection of debts myself.
Meanwhile I haven't been writing much lately. Even blogs like this. True, there's been a lot going on but my necessity to produce on what I consider my chosen career has been almost entirely submerged by the exigencies and passing excitements of life in general.
Hence the title of today's blog.
I'd like to be able to get both my mom and my stepdad totally clean slate and stable financially. Same thing for my lady-to-be, when she finally comes into my life (I've hopes she already has, but I've thought that before; hence the welter of scar tissue). And of course I want children, and I'll need to provide for them.
I've got plans in place for a number of projects, means to make money and improve my lot. But the most important one is the writing, and it's well past time I dusted that fucker off and used it. Because that's the one with the highest potential return.
This isn't some self-affirmation thing. I never really had any doubts I could make it. I just shied away from the work involved because I placed too high a value on being able to slack off. But frankly, if I don't do it now I may be well and truly fucked.
So yeah. It's time. I've said it before, but nothing kicks you in the pants like the fact that the fate of others, loved ones, may depend on you.
So today I was reading an article where a writer makes the point that his time is his own and he's not obligated in any way to spend it on the needs or demands of relative strangers.
I think it's a pretty good point - people do seem to think that once you've made it, or once you're a "public figure", the world owns you. I really do not think that's okay.
But that's not what I want to get into here.
The comments for the article is long as shit, and for every person who agreed (many themselves well-known writers, actors, artists of all stripes), someone else was totally cussing the writer out for being a selfish, elitist asshole.
Well, what the everloving fuck?
Here's what these people are basically saying: "Because you managed by whatever means to make it in your field, you now owe it to all comers to give us the magic ticket you used. Because if you don't, you're just holding us down. Pony up, we know it exists."
That's right. These people think there is a magic ticket. They think there's a way to get "made" without pain.
And you know, I've kind of made similar unthinking assumptions myself, though never to that degree. But now and then I'll catch myself thinking, "How did they do it? What do those people have that I don't?" This, in relation to every possible endeavor, from finding a good girlfriend to becoming a successful artist, and even to spiritual advancement.
But after all the shit I read today, I realized I was being just as idiotic as these moron commenters.
The world doesn't owe me, you, or anyone else, anything. There is not one single part of life, not one single good thing worth being, doing or having, that doesn't have to be earned.
I mean, does anyone think Hugh Jackman is just naturally ripped in his superhero movies (for example)? Because he isn't. He really had to work hard to look so cut. It didn't happen while he sat on the sofa eating Cheetos and masturbating to soft-core porn.
How about getting a decent girlfriend (or boyfriend)? Well, hate to say it but getting laid -- to say nothing of the finer elements of a relationship -- isn't actually a given. It's not an inalienable right -- and I think you'll agree, some people shouldn't breed anyway.
I look at many of my friends and marvel at how they seemingly effortlessly found incredible women to share their lives. And yeah, I envy the living shit out of them (although in no way do I begrudge them). I can't seem to do what they did. But guess what? Even though it's not exactly from lack of trying, it also kind of IS. Because all of those guys did work at it, and I'm often hard-pressed to be social, talkative, interesting/interested, and generally proving myself as a viable mate for a girl.
These writers, even the ones many seem to feel are absolute crap (I'm looking at you, Stephanie Moyer and Christopher Paolini), must have WORKED at it. Maybe I am a far superior author to a lot of stuff that's out there -- but how many times have I actually sent out a submission, tried to get published? Answer: Very few. So fuck you, me.
Every author who has made it, who does take the time to do a write-up for aspirants, stresses that you gotta get in there and keep swinging until you connect. Seems like a lot of work! I recoil and nurse the perceived insult to my talents (because I'm special and awesome and it should all just happen, and it would, too, if I could just find the right person to read my book).
I'm self-aware enough to realize that it's not true, that I haven't done nearly enough work to earn my dreams -- but a scary number out there, it seems, are not. They actually seem to believe that they are entitled to whatever they want, because they are special little snowflakes who should be able to make their mark on the world and people should help them out of the kindness of their hearts or out of adoration of their awesomeness.
Bullshit. To quote Tyler Durden, you are not a special snowflake. Anyone and everyone on this planet is only as good as they get shit done. Whatever their particular shit is. If you don't have the perseverance to do whatever it takes, if you think there's a one-shot cure or magic pill or incantation to easily get anything worthwhile, you are sadly fucking mistaken.
It is true that some very few DO luck into fame, fortune and fucking. We all make snide remarks about the no-talents in Hollywood, like Paris Hilton or the aforementioned authors. But I have to be blunt. Those people are still there, so they must have something going for them, some determination or drive that everyone who wishes they were there but isn't, lacks. And yes, sadly, this does include me, and anyone else who falters in realizing their dreams, often because it looks like too much work.
Success and happiness are not rights. Striving for them are. But this world doesn't do handouts. If you want it, it means hard work, in-ethics, doing the things that were successful. It means weeding out the things that you are doing wrong, because it is not the big, bad world's fault if you don't make it.
I know this probably reads as super preachy, but what all of this is, is exactly what I told myself this afternoon. This is my chain of realizations, because I'd made assumptions and balked at the work I'd have to do to get where I need to go.
So no, this is my reminder to myself: The world doesn't owe me a damned thing.
Wow, has it really been like three weeks since I've done a blog?
Well, I'm kind of in the calm before the storm. I've been busy getting my slacking in and otherwise preparing for a metric fuckton of various kinds of activity. Which starts tomorrow, pretty much.
First off, I'm helping a dude out with his business. He's working on a curriculum for aspiring writers to learn how to, among other things, get their own stuff published without going to traditional publishers. Now, I don't know if that's really the way to go, but I'll learn all about it because I'll be proofreading all of his materials. It's sort of a pro bono in that he's not paying for the service - but the exchange will be that I get all his data (he'll be selling the courses for something on the order of 3 grand) and on top of it, he knows a lot of people who need proofreading, so he'll send people my way.
I could make some serious bank doing this, even on a part-time basis.
Next up, I'm getting my bank loan extended so I can buy all the shit I need to get my webcomic going. This includes all the software I need to ALSO do freelance graphic artist work, which could really come in handy.
But the loan will also go toward some debt consolidation, which ought to give me some stress-relief.
This weekend I'm going to the Writers of the Future Awards Gala. I'm not, regrettably, one of the winners, but because I submitted, I got an invite. This means I have a chance to meet the judges, which include such literary luminaries as Anne McCafferey and a bunch of others I can't recall at this precise moment. So that will be cool.
Still all suck on the relationship front (and not the good kind of suck, either) but I've recently observed that trying to ignore that facet of my life isn't doing me any sort of good, so... I've also had it hammered home in a number of ways that I really haven't been looking in the right places on those occasions I have looked. And that, as they say, opens the door to a handling. So we'll see how it goes.
On top of all this, I'm determined to get SOMETHING rolling on my own writing projects. I've procrastinated way too fucking much on the second draft of my novel, so most likely it will be that. I still really do want to get that particular show on the road, and soon.
So yeah, my life is about to become a whirlwind of activity -- I've also gotta maintain my exercise schedule plus there are still MORE things I haven't even mentioned that will be going on next month. But this is good, you know? I'd feel like a complete fucking tool if all I ever did was talk about my plans and how I'm gonna do shit. Well, it's happening.
So I might still be a tool, but at least I'll have something to show for it.
I was kind of surprised. The acting was actually mostly pretty good. The special effects were, of course, eye-popping and for the most part they worked.
The problem was that the dialogue was utterly cheesetastic. The only person who didn't have to deliver verbal fromage was the black ninja dude. And that's because he doesn't talk at all.
I realize this is a movie based on a cartoon that was itself based on a toy line. But they couldn't come up with better lines?
Then there were the armor boobs. Now, I'm not entirely complaining, because the actress who played Scarlett was pretty hot. But since when does body armor have built-in boobs? That was worse than the robot testicles in Transformers 2.
Anyway, don't see this expecting anything other than goofy fun, but if that's what you're in the mood for, this is totally your hookup.
Friday night turned out to be pretty decent. A friend of mine is in a band, and they were performing at a really nice venue near downtown LA. There were other performers (the place sort of had an upscale arthouse vibe), and most of them were pretty decent. The wait staff at the location were attentive, courteous and attractive.
I have, however, resolved not to even entertain anything more than friendly, harmless banter/flirting with any girls in the service industry (when they're working). It's not smart for me to mistake professional charm with real interest -- and that's all one can ever count on it being. And I'm unwilling to put anyone in the position of having to continue to be nice to a dude giving unwelcome advances, just because they can't turn business away.
So, I didn't ask for the hostess' number, even though she was cute enough and seemed like a decent girl, and even though she might actually have been interested. Ditto the bargirl -- although I did leave her a pretty good tip for keeping my water glass full. She'd certainly earned it.
I did think of striking up a conversation with the girl that sat next to me, a Vanessa Hudgens lookalike (or hell, it could actually have been Hudgens, this being LA!), but her body language said no way. I was okay with that. I have to admit, I wasn't feeling particularly conversational.
But although I mentioned all this first, the important part of the night was, of course, watching my friend Maura perform. It was the first time I'd been able to catch a show; she and her band Mad Night were actually pretty damned good.
She saw me before she went on and was pleasantly surprised to see me there. Maura is a lovely and sweet girl; I met her when she wanted to share my patio table at a Starbucks a couple years ago. Somehow we kind of stayed in touch; even though I haven't seen her or talked to her in at least a year, she totally recognized me, gave me several hugs and was really glad I came.
Before you start nodding your head knowingly: she's got a guy, she's not into me that way, and while she'd be a catch for anyone, I'm not crushing on her.
But it IS great to know her and I'm really glad I went out. I get to find out about new places in LA, see good music performed, and be in the same room as (if not actually meet, lol) interesting people.
Unfortunately, having crunched some numbers, that low-budget evening out was all I can afford to do this weekend.
But my plans for creating new income sources are progressing! I've got a solid solution for getting the money I need to get things started; all I need to do now is nail down exactly how much I'll need, and things will get rolling. The research is almost complete. So it looks like I'll be making these plans a reality before summer's end -- exactly as I'd originally hoped.
Thereafter, it will take a little while, I know, for the money to start coming in. But it will come in. It's two to four years now. And I'm prepared to work for it.
I recently had the shocking realization that I talk too much.
Specifically I talk about myself too much.
It's understandable (playing Devil's Advocate): I've got plans and dreams and I'm excited about them, and I like to talk about them. Sure.
I wanted to inspire, but I suspect what I've done instead is bore. Or worse.
Not everyone's got live dreams; not everyone has epic plans. But I rather suspect that those who don't, wish they did or even feel guilty that they don't.
So when someone comes along all fired up about their own awesome shit, it's gonna get a mixed reaction. On the one hand, that is indeed awesome shit. But on the other, they don't have awesome shit. It's sorta like how I feel when I see people in relationships. Or those fucking eHarmony commercials.
Or, maybe they do have awesome shit, but I've spent so much time talking about my awesome shit, we never get around to talking about their awesome shit.
This is utterly unacceptable. It's rude, boorish. It's probably one reason some people don't wanna talk to me often. It doesn't help that I'm utterly horrible at picking up hints. Because this happened recently, hanging out with a buddy of mine. He gave me several opportunities to shut up about my book already and find out what was up with him. And I totally missed them.
When I realized this - the day after our visit - I felt like a total ass. And then I got to thinking and realized this has been a recurring theme.
Well, now I know, which is, as we're all aware, half the battle. I'm kinda glad I figured it out myself, but on the other hand, it took me long enough and I kinda wish someone actually had said something.
I know, too, that this sin isn't unique or cardinal or irredeemable. Probably almost everyone suffers from this at some point in their lifetime.
But I try to tell myself these things, that it's not so bad. I'm probably right - my social issues are likely much deeper, broader and more complex than just being a blowhard. But I still feel like an ass. And, of course, I resolve to do better.
I wish I had some answers so this would be a useful blog. But it's really more of a rant.
Some people are attention whores. I get it, I really do. But what I don't get is why we feed their desires, why we feel compelled to give so much attention to people we've never met and who have no value in our lives. And I'm not just talking about myself, personally. As far as I can see, some of these people have no value in anyone's life.
Paris Hilton is, of course, an excellent example. If not for the fact that plant life can feed off her CO2 emissions, I'm pretty sure she'd be a complete waste of human and planetary resources. Even her dog hates her, according to such pictures as have made it past my anti-Hilton filter.
How about those Jon & Kate morons? I've never seen the show, okay. So in all fairness, my calling them morons may be excessive. But why should I care that they're doing stupid stunts like alleged infidelity and whatnot? It's none of my business, for one thing.
That could lead into a tangent on things about people, particularly celebrities, that the media forces on us but that are none of our business. But I'll leave that alone for the moment.
This South Carolina Governor who put his dipstick in the wrong oil tank -- that's a little tougher. The man is in a position of public responsibility, it is necessary to know if he's involved in things unbefitting of his position. But do we need to drag the women into it? Do we really need to invade the lives of his family in what must already be a difficult time? No, we don't. We really do not.
I'm also sick of hearing about Sarah Palin. This is not a political statement. I stay the hell out of politics. No, it's because the woman is NOT a legitimate national figure anymore. Sarah: You had your moment. Let it go.
Finally, I'm really tired of seeing all the Michael Jackson coverage. I was a fan for a while, back when everyone loved him. I idly followed some of his exploits over the past fifteen years while waiting in checkout lines and such. It's true that the man had a huge impact on the world and popular culture. It's true he's left an enduring legacy and will probably be the next Elvis Presley in terms of merchandising (I just hope they go with the 80's Thriller-era Jackson, not the travesty of nature he became in later years). But the media saturation is just too damned much. It really is. I don't need minute-to-minute updates on his embalming. I don't need to know who is getting custody of his kids. I'm not concerned about the disposition of his estate.
Here's the thing. A lot of this news is stuff that's being thrown in my face at every turn. I'm not saying that, in some cases, the information shouldn't be available. This is, after all, the Information Age. What I'm saying is, can't we have the info we want, rather than this other bullshit? And why are we more interested in peccadilloes than products?
Take the activities of celebrities as an example. I'm always interested in the activities of artists. By which I mean, I'm interested in what projects they are working on, when said projects will be available, and whether the resulting product was any good. I like knowing that Anne Hathaway is doing Shakespeare on Broadway -- and doing a decent job. I don't need to know that she likes getting it up the ass. I like knowing that Robert Downey Jr. will be playing Sherlock Holmes (and that Rachel McAdams will co-star). I don't need to know about their torrid off-screen affair.*
The thing is, none of this info would be available if there wasn't a demand. I recognize that. But it would be nice if the demands of gossipy, bored housewives (apologies to my housewife friends) weren't forced upon the rest of us. The Yahoo Entertainment section should be about entertainment. Not about celebrity gossip. And especially when said celebrities are really only celebrities because the media makes them so.
Honestly, I'd rather know about the real celebrities in my life: My friends and family. But even then, I still don't need to know who likes it up the ass.
Okay, so I'm doing a little studying, and out of the blue I realized something.
You know how all those scientists are looking out into space, checking out other galaxies and shit like that, getting all excited because they're finding planets that could support life -- but not finding any evidence of extra-terrestrial life?
If you don't, take my word for it. There are a lot of people doing just that.
Well, I got curious. I wondered just how close these other galaxies are. I Googled it, and according to Wikipedia (granted, not the best possible source, but fine for my purposes), the closest proper galaxy is over a million light-years from ours (if I'm reading the chart correctly).
I think pretty much everyone knows that a light-year is the distance that light travels in a year. Okay. So that means the light we are seeing from that galaxy is over a million years old.
What was happening on Earth a million years ago? Near as I can tell, not a whole lot. Apparently the first Homo Sapiens didn't even show up until about 100,000 years ago. The walking monkeys that were around before that were just getting funky with rocks.
Now, I'm no expert, or even an educated amateur -- I'm occasionally interested and I read science and astronomy articles when they're featured on Yahoo. But from what I can tell, our current technology is incapable of zooming in very closely to these planets they're finding. Certainly not enough to see what's really going on there. So a lot of their conclusions is based on, really, educated guesswork -- and that based on the only life we do know of, that of Earth.
Add to that the fact that Earth, in galactic terms, is kind of fucking remote. Seriously! We're like hicks! There are places out there where solar systems are packed together like tenements in a ghetto. Earth is Nebraska, these places are like SoCal or New York. Or Sao Paolo.
So... I'm just saying, what the hell are these guys doing, shaking their heads sadly and saying there can't be life out there? They are basing these conclusions on information that's millions of years old, and using a very narrow view of what constitutes "life".
I'm sure I'm not the first to realize this, but it did just come to me as a revelation. And yes, it is true that I already believed in extra-terrestrial life. But still, man. I'm not even saying this proves anything. I'm just saying that unless we get more up-to-date news, we can't disprove anything, either.
Just wanted to say that yes, I do realize those "sitcom" expectations were unrealistic. Especially now that my face has been smushed into that truth. But I don't think it's unusual to paint an overly rosy picture when planning the future. You gotta picture the ideal, so there's something to strive for. Otherwise, what? No plans or expectations means a ho-hum, accidental sort of life. Not for me.
Also I didn't mean to imply that I'm just going to dump all of my existing friends. Because that would be unbelievably stupid. No, in truth I'm simply going to acquire more friends, and given that many of my existing "cast" have moved to a different plane of existence (marriage and family), this is only sensible until I rejoin those ranks.
In other news:
Wizard magazine has answered prayers I didn't even know I was making. The latest issue has a rundown of everything I need to get in order to start my webcomic, including hardware, software, web hosting and tips from successful creators. Some of the recommended tablets are DIRT CHEAP (30 bucks!) which is a lot better than the two grand I was expecting to shell out. I can get a software application for roughly $50, which should do me until I can afford to shell out a grand or so for Adobe software.
That's really good news, because it means once my paychecks are flowing regularly and have taken the necessary hike, I can get that project back on the front burners.
Brings me to the money scene: Things are tight, can't lie. But this is primarily due to things still being slow at the new workplace. Once production kicks up, that should improve. Add to that a guaranteed raise (which should already have happened, actually) when the guy I'm replacing checks out in two weeks, and I should be sitting pretty by August if not sooner. All requisite knocking on wood applies, of course.
I'm currently in a bit of a battle with the Evil Credit Card Company, which is being a consistent pain in the ass. This is my first credit card and honestly I should probably never have got involved. Or at least gone with a bank credit card, because those guys (one would think) are more trustworthy. The account I have now is a sinister web of hidden fees, unreceived statements and whispering customer service representatives. As soon as I possibly can, I'm paying those fuckers off and terminating my account. I don't need them anyway, I really don't. Not anymore, at any rate. But things are slowly getting sorted out as I continue to insist they give me the information I need to pay them (you wouldn't think this would be hard to do). Eventually I'll get through to someone. It's harder to do via email than you might think.
I almost asked a girl out today but I sorta chickened out. I mean, truth be told I'm not sure I want to go out with her, but on the other hand, why the hell not? Plus of course it's just as likely, if not more so, that we'll share an awkward moment while she shoots me down.
On the writing front: Not going that well. But I recognize the need for me to buckle down and start slaving away on the second draft. What little feedback I've gotten tells me what I need to work on (and that's as much from the feedback itself as the fact that there hasn't been much). So I shall grit my teeth and get my ass to work on what every writer hates: The second draft.
Meanwhile, and more pleasantly, I've got some ideas simmering for the rewrite of another short story (which is only slightly related to the current project), which could well be the second publishable book, as well as being the genus of another full series. So that's good.
Finally, I am a mass of twingey, misfiring muscles from my exercise last night. I ran (mostly) a mile, did about 50 reps of 15 pounds per hand (which sounds kind of weak when I write it out) and a bunch of things with the weird pulley gadget. And lots of sit-ups. Gonna do it all again tonight once dinner settles, and it's going to continue until I've dropped 30-50 pounds of blubber. I want to be in the same shape I was when I got married -- only better, because instead of being skinny I'll be all ripped. I figure that'll take a couple months at least. But maybe I'll end up being a Spartan for Halloween this year after all, ha ha.
I think I kind of expected my life to turn into a sitcom when I moved to LA.
Maybe because the last time I moved to LA, it kind of did.
You know what I mean: A bunch of friends that you hang out with all the time, or who drop by regularly, silly relationship hijinks (of one kind or another), going out all the time, lots of snappy one-liners.
That's not actually how it's been playing out. I think with a lot of my LA friends, I've been outta sight, outta mind for so long they're still not used to me being nearby. And I hate being the guy who's constantly calling people up and trying to hang out. I'm actually on my own as much as -- if not more than -- I was in OC.
I'm also getting pretty over going out on my own. I can do it, and I have fun as much as not, but it's really not the same. In a lot of respects.
Rather than just whinging about it though, I will of course do something about it. I've started volunteering at a non-profit -- many of the key people there know me of old and they fucking love me, no exaggeration. I'm gonna check out a few other things I can get involved in.
(Obviously I've gotta arrange it so I'm not spending so much time doing other things that I'm not writing -- which is exactly the mistake I made when I lived in LA before -- but I think that's pretty doable. Besides, I'm not exactly going great guns on that front at the moment. Another thing I need to address.)
The other factor in this: You know how you're hanging with people who've known you for years, and you kinda slip into the familiar patterns? I'm not the guy I was four years ago. But I do find myself being him when I'm around people who've got expectations of my behavior. I really need to break myself of that. And much as I love my peeps, maybe I would in fact be better off amongst new people, who have no preconceptions on how I'm "supposed to be".
Heh. Maybe I should've moved a lot farther than I did. But whatever. There are millions of people in LA county. Shouldn't be that hard to recast the sitcom.
Sorry for the lack of formatting (like anyone cares, ha ha) but I forgot about this until kinda late...
Fun Friday
Or Favorite Friday, or Freakin' Awesome Friday. Take your pick.
I'm actually doing pretty much the same thing as Typhoid Ashley on this one: These are songs that make me want to dance. Or in some cases, I just really like them, and a lot of them have endured innumerable replays.
I've left quite a number out, simply because I don't know or can't (at this moment) remember titles or artists. That frankly goes for all of the lists made this past week.
Radiate (Dubious Mike)
Isn't it awesome I can cite a Dubious song for almost every category this week? I think it's awesome.
Counting Blue Cars (Dishwalla)
Got way too much airplay back in the late 90s but it somehow manages to evoke summertime imagery to me even now.
Desecration Smile (Red Hot Chili Peppers [RHCP])
Kids (MGMT)
This is one of my favorite songs now. And I love the video. A lot.
Young Folks (Peter, Bjorn and John)
Battle Without Honor or Humanity
Extreme Ways (Moby)
Kids With Guns (Gorillaz)
Spybreak (Propellerheads)
Such Great Heights (Postal Service)
19-2000 Soulchild Remix (Gorillaz)
Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana)
By the Way (RHCP)
Cafe Mambo Mix (Syndicate)
Funky Monks (RHCP)
ABC (Jackson 5)
Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me (TISM)
You've seen the video by now, I'm sure. What's not to love? If you haven't, check it out on YouTube. You'll laugh, I can guarantee.
Tell Me Something Good (Rufus & Chaka Khan)
Wake Up (Arcade Fire)
This is the song on the Where the Wild Things Are trailer, in case you didn't know. That was the first time I'd heard it, and I'll never forget it. This is the trailer, y'all, that made Kevin Smith cry.
Humble Neighborhood (Pink)
One Week (Barenaked Ladies)
God Shuffled His Feet (Crash Test Dummies)
Black Betty (Ram Jam)
Around the World (ATC)
I know, right? A much shorter list. But hell, a guy can only have so many favorites.
If anyone wants to listen to any of the songs I've listed, a lot of them are on my playlists here. Particularly the now-misnamed "September" list.
Honestly I can't really remember a lot of what I used to groove to before moving to LA. Particularly what I listened to before I was introduced to Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Depeche Mode, The Cure, and Red Hot Chili Peppers. So nearly every one of these songs are ones I've discovered in the past fifteen years or so.
The Classics -- 80s and earlier
Don't You Forget About Me (Simple Minds)
I know I'm admitting to liking The Breakfast Club, which guys are apparently not supposed to do -- but who wouldn't wanna be Judd Nelson in that flick, neh? He was 80s cool before it turned into 80s lame. Although even when I was six, I would rather have gone with the brunette than the redhead. Still would, in fact.
Shit, watching that video made me want to see the movie again. Unbelievable.
Cry Little Sister (Gerard McMann)
I can't think of the late 80s without thinking of The Lost Boys, and I can't think of The Lost Boys without thinking of this haunting song. Or more importantly, Jamie Gertz, schwing!
Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen)
Speaking of schwing, ha ha ha ha hah ha. Actually, since Queen did the soundtrack to Highlander, a movie that got a lot of play in mi casa, a lot of Queen songs take me back.
Great Balls of Fire (Jerry Lee Lewis)
Everybody Get Together (Dick Clark Five)
Stop, Hey What's That Sound (Buffalo Springfield)
Three classics that I'll never stop loving. And while I wasn't going to add any specific Beatles songs (too obvious, right?), they definitely deserve a shout-out. In fact, I'm absolutely positive I remember Day Tripper from 1968. But Come Together may yet take the day as my favorite.
Joyride (Roxette)
Call Me (Blondie)
Joey (Concrete Blonde)
Roxette, Blondie and Concrete Blonde all left deep impressions in my youthful self. Almost entirely through mis-heard and misunderstood lyrics, but the sound, at least, remained pure. Now that I know what they were actually saying, I can't for the life of me remember what I thought they were saying. But I do remember laughing my ass off when I found out the truth.
As may be apparent, my early musical tastes were heavily influenced by what my sisters were listening to at the time.
Do Do Do, De Da Da Da (The Police)
I remember dancing in my diapers to this song. Or maybe I was naked. The song came out in what, 82, 83? I was too old for diapers at that point. Yup, guess I was naked.
Personal Jesus
Or anything by Depeche Mode, frankly. Do they even record anymore? Anyone know?
People Are Strange (Echo and the Bunnymen)
San Francsico (Scott McKenzie)
Fortunate Son (Creedence Clearwater Revival)
I have to disagree with Justin Long's character in Live Free or Die Hard. Fortunate Son is an awesome song. Naturally, it's inextricably tied with anti-war sentiment (it is, after all, a protest song), and in today's world, it's still, unfortunately, quite relevant.
The 90s
The 90s were my period of musical awakening. I listened to more music, bought more albums (prior to 1989 or 90, the only "album" I personally owned was a Michael Jackson cassette I was given for my 8th birthday). I gradually developed my own tastes in music, with limited influence from others. It did become alternative/grunge rock for a time, but always the important thing has been the sound.
U Can't Touch This (MC Hammer)
Early 90s rap (dubbed cRap by my friend Damon) was like a gateway drug. You start listening to it and the next thing you know, you're wearing neon parachute pants and shaving designs into your hair. I count myself lucky, however: Vanilla Ice killed any affinity I had for the genre, preventing me from ever being interested in gangsta. I think I would have been a singularly pathetic wigger.
Must Have Been Love (Roxette)
This is one of the last songs I loved before I found grunge. I'm faintly embarrassed by this now, but the fact remains the chick's got a great voice. There was another one around that same time that had to do with looking into someone's eyes and wiping the tears away. I have no idea who did that one, and the lyrics were embarrassingly maudlin even then, but I liked the harmonics. And that's what it's really about to me: how it sounds, not always what they say.
Circles (Soul Coughing)
Lovefool (The Cardigans)
Gotta give Typhoid Ashley credit for this one. She reminded me of it on her first list, and I just had to add it. Lovefool was one of those songs that made the 90s what it was, along with:
American Werewolf in Paris Soundtrack
I have to include this as a collection, because although I never saw the movie, the soundtrack -- including the works of Cake, Better Than Ezra, Eva Trout, Bush, and Vanessa Daou -- kept me awake through many a long, busy night. As did:
The Faculty Soundtrack
Including the works of Stabbing Westward, Class of 99, Offspring, Creed and Neve. I listened to this soundtrack so many times I could sing along in perfect time even when I couldn't hear it. And by "sing along" I actually mean "mutter nonsense words in rough approximation of tune".
Pepper (Butthole Surfers)
I don't mind the sun sometimes/the images it shows/I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes/cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies/you never know just how you look through other peoples' eyes
This is one song I did get the lyrics to. And I liked that, and them. Also, because much of the song wasn't really sung, I could get away with more obvious singing along. Heh.
Round Here (Counting Crows)
I'm a Bitch I'm a Lover (Alanis Morissette)
My ex-wife loved this song. I did too, although as much out of Canadian Solidarity as the song itself.
Picked this vid out of whimsey. Also because I figure Ash will like it, lol. And maybe she can tell me what movie that green-eyed girl comes from. It's the only one I can't figure out (how weird is that; I hardly ever watch cartoon movies).
Bittersweet Symphony (The Verve)
Another "classic" 90s song, by which I mean it got so much airtime no one wanted to hear from these guys ever again.
Zombie (Garbage)
Steal My Sunshine (ZEN)
Incidentally, I'm leaving out the songs that I fucking hated, the ones that would get stuck in my head or whatever. There were a fair number of lounge-singer types in the early 90s that earned my eternal enmity for their effluvium (can you say "Don't hurt me, no more?). Seeing as how I do not want to inflict that on myself, I'm not getting into the hate list on this or any other edition of Music Week.
This one's already getting too long, so a quick, anecdote free list of some of the other "best of the 90s" tunes:
Smells Like Teen Spirit & Come as You Are (Nirvana)
Drive, Losing My Religion & Everybody Hurts (REM)
Jeremy (Pearl Jam)
Gangsta's Paradise (Coolio)
Wonderwall (Oasis)
1979 (Smashing Pumpkins)
Lightning Crashes (Live)
Mr. Jones (Counting Crows)
Ironic (Alanis Morrissette)
One Week (Barenaked Ladies)
God Shuffled His Feet (Crash Test Dummies)
One of Us (Joan Osborne) -- truly one of the most ubiquitous and ultimately annoying songs of this era, it yet deserves a mention because, yes, I did play it on my own, because I liked it. For a while, anyway.
All right, that's the end of Memory Lane. If you take a right, you'll find yourself on Amnesiac Avenue, which will bring you back to Procrastination Plaza -- I assume that's your starting point. Get back to whatever you were supposed to be doing! Ha ha!
I'm avoiding torch songs. Just FYI. Well, trying to. Largely because I don't wanna go research the ones I don't know. But this is as close as I'll get to 'em -- sometimes emo, sometimes profound, this is the sad, lonely and lovelorn song list.
Black (Pearl Jam) Needs no explanation, introduction, or excuse. If this one doesn't touch you, you have no soul.
Last Kiss (Pearl Jam) Ditto. Although I have to admit the "aaaaa ooooo" bit in the end sort of makes me snicker sometimes.
I Know (Dubious Mike) I first heard this song when I was going through pretty much exactly what the song describes. So I listened to it a lot. Which probably, in retrospect, didn't help me get over it any faster.
Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Green Day) God of Wine (Third Eye Blind)
Grace is Gone (Dave Matthews Band)
Love Song (The Cure) I liked this song even before I learned what they were saying (this happens all the time). Just the energy and artistry of the music itself captured my attention. Then I saw the official music video. With hair like that, I'm not sure I can quite respect Robert Smith anymore. I know, it was the 80s and Aquanet stocks soared. Doesn't matter.
Fallin' (Alicia Keys) Love her voice. Love her face. Love the piano. Her apparent bad-boy fetish, as depicted in the video for this song: Not so much.
Come Away With Me (Nora Jones) They played this one at a funeral for a good friend of mine. He was younger than me and just stroked out one day (by which I mean he had a fatal stroke). I'd had people die on me before but this was probably the most jarring, for a lot of reasons. Since then, I've never liked listening to this song. Which is kind of a shame, because Jones is fairly bangable. What does that have to do with it, you ask? Well, if you have to, you'll never know. Which is good, really.
Creep (Radiohead) Creep (Stone Temple Pilots)
Listen To Your Heart (Roxette) I get goosebumps when they do that thing with the... whatever it is. Is it an xylophone? I don't even know. Maybe it's just a piano. Yeah, it's probably a piano. I like that bit. Which reminds me of...
I Will Be Right Here Waiting For You (Bryan Adams) Good piano here, too. I'm a total sucker for piano, have I mentioned that yet? Side note: Was watching How I Met Your Mother tonight. Robin, bless her heart: "I love Springsteen! He's like the American Bryan Adams!" So true. So very true.
Sometime Around Midnight (Airborne Toxic Event) I kinda have a thing for the violinist. She's adorable. But seriously, one thing I love about this song is it entirely disposes of the verse chorus verse formula that 99% of songs have these days. And the fact they even have a violinist is kinda unique; I'm a big fan of unique. Even when it's only kinda.
Loser (Beck)
Hurt (Johnny Cash) It took a while to grow on me, but now I like the Man in Black's version better than Reznor's. Cash brought gravitas and depth to a song that, in its original incarnation, now seems petulant and shrill. Also his chord changes still give me chills. I listen closely to such things. Sometimes it's all I can hear, after all.
Outside (Staind) Where'd You Go (Fort Minor) I've always been kind of fond of fusion songs (and covers), but this one took the cake for me. Simply put, combining pianos and drums -- that's like auditory peanut butter and chocolate to me, for reasons I know I'll never be able to explain. It's just how it is -- if done well.
Something I Can Never Have (Nine Inch Nails) I'm a little ashamed to admit it now, but there was a time this song was pretty much my anthem. Which was stupid in many ways, but hey -- when you're 16, being angsty is "romantic". Or something. Yeah, I was an idiot when I was 16.
...and of course pretty much anything by Evanescence, ha ha! But actually, Bring Me Back to Life was another example of arresting fusion; and I don't care what anyone else says, it made that scene in Daredevil damned cool. Yes, I did like Daredevil. I will buy it, if I see it on sale. But it never is on sale, is it, hmm? What's THAT tell you? People buy it, and hide it, perhaps under their beds. For some reason, liking Daredevil is a guilty pleasure. I can understand feeling that way about the spinoff (Elektra), but I thought they did a good job on Daredevil!
Okay, I digress. That's a subject I should revisit, though.
As a final note, reading back on this I realize I must sound a bit like a horny teenager with all the liking shit because the artist involved is attractive. That's not really it, seriously. It just doesn't hurt. Remember, my first introduction to these is always the voice and more importantly, the music and harmonies. This is even true with Phantom of the Opera, which is a movie; Emmy Rossum won me over not with her looks (ravishing though she is) but her rendition of the Phantom of the Opera song.
It does seem weird, even to me, that a voice should create such an effect on a deaf guy, but there it is. Maybe it's just that any beauty or artistry that can fully reach me, has to be pretty powerful to do it.
Nevertheless, I truly am a sucker for a pretty face. So when that's involved too, I'm pretty much done for.
