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(no subject) [Jul. 21st, 2011|02:04 am]
[Current Mood |nostalgiclooking back]
[Current Music |Bjork: New World]

What's the point of keeping a journal if you don't look back upon it.

Doing just that, it knocks me back a peg. I've aged, yes, and have been more exposed to a number of different mediums, but I've grown as a person so little, still repeating the same mistakes. Especially when it comes to women. You think I could be content with just being happy, but no. If I am not wanting what I can't have, it doesn't sit with me. It's a trait that makes it difficult to gaze upon a mirror.

To quote the great Fight Club, "I am a thirty-year-old boy". I don't think I will make it much past the age of forty, not without a strong hand in guidance. The 20-20 hindsight is aggravating.

Am I at all capable of being original? Or am I cursed to be a hack; ripping off the obscure in one beautiful, referential cocktail? Or can I break free, think for myself, putting blinders on and allow myself room for the proper growth.

I wish I could go back, but only with the caveat that I know then what I know now.
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(no subject) [Oct. 9th, 2009|02:11 pm]

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Everyone Has a Summer They Want to Remember [Aug. 21st, 2009|02:25 pm]
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[Current Music |Tommy James & The Shondells: Crimson and Clover]

Got some time to myself, so time for an overdue update.

This has been one fantastic summer, marked by four major events.
  • A Girlfriend.  I've been dating Jess since April, so for about four months now.  It was super casual at first and has progressed to the pretty serious.  As I've gotten to know her, it has slowly dawned on me that she is exactly what I've been looking for in a girlfriend since I've started being interested in girls: someone who doesn't get sick of watching movies with me, someone to fall asleep with, non high maintenance and has a mean sarcastic streak.  She's crazy about me and I'm growing just as crazy about her.  By a million miles the most rewarding relationship I've ever been in.
  • The Lighting Final.  For my Advanced Lighting Final, the assignment was to put moving lights to the song(s) of your choosing, with your actual grade being based on your performance in front of a live audience.  I chose the crazy noise metal band that is the brainchild of Mike Patton, Fantômas, the songs being 04-01-05 Friday, 04-02-05 Saturday, and Cape Fear (with my preshow music  "The Beatles: Hello, Goodbye" lulling the unsuspecting portion of my audience into a false sense of security, lol).  I poured all my heart, sleepless nights and technical abilities into this project, probably tallying around 50-60 hours of programming time on the light board in the studio theatre.  And the result was as perfect as I could ever have hoped for.  I picked frantic music that was never boring in any spots, which meant me having roughly 300 light queues, with the majority being bumps (0 counts).  SO much timing and precision was required, so I can say without the slightest hint of arrogance that I even impressed myself.  I will forever remember the loud cheers when my show ended and I brought the house lights up, knowing the applause was all for me and my creation, the sense of overwhelming accomplishment and approval; it might just very well be the proudest moment of my life so far.  There will be a DVD of it some day, as it was video recorded, so I could probably share it with all of you sometime in the future.
  • Beauty and the Beast.  I stage managed the FCCJ theatrical production of Beauty and the Beast , by far the biggest production I have ever been associated with.  It was another huge time commitment, but it got done.  Disaster was around any corner, from keeping everybody calm to major sound issues (GodDAMMIT Sean!), from Beast flying issues to the 700 pound false proscenium crashing to its destruction just a few feet in front of dozens of children.  But it all came together.  Stage management has definitely made me into a more responsible person, as a great deal of responsibility falls upon the stage manager of every show.  I do need a break from stage management, as I have either stage managed or assistant stage managed a show the last four semesters.  Both of those jobs require you to be there for every rehearsal.  I will be Master Electrician for this next show, a job that I only show up for about the last month.  I'm looking forward to it, lol.
  • Moving Out of Melrose.  They can call it The District or even Green Acres, it's just a name.  It's Melrose to me, and moving out of there is long overdue.  I moved to Riverside with my best friend Mae.  Jess wasn't cool with it at the beginning, but she's getting better.  It really is a gorgeous place.  I have about three times more the space than I did at Melrose.  I absolutely love the location (you can walk down the street, bounce a bouncy ball and hit historic Five Points, a cool place in Jacksonville that has lots of potential photos for http://www.latfh.com).  As we are slowly furnishing the place, it is slowly becoming home to me.
Life really is pretty good right now.  Tomorrow I'm going to North Carolina for a week to install hardwood floors with my aunt for a lot more money than I could possibly make at Target.  Then the next semester will start and we will see how far I can ride this crest of this high and beautiful wave.

Everyone has a summer they want to remember.  I think I may have had mine.


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"You know what divine intervention is?" [Jul. 3rd, 2009|11:06 am]
[Tags|, , , , ]
[Current Mood |drained]
[Current Music |Mike Patton: A Perfect Twist]

I've been meaning to write about this since Tuesday, but this is the first spot of free time I've had since.

Remember that scene in Pulp Fiction where the man hiding in the bathroom unloads a revolver on everybody's favorite hitmen, Jules and Vincent? I'll refresh your memory via still shots.

No, I did not get shot at, but with that in mind, I will delve into my story.

For the non-theatre literate:

proscenium (pro-sê´nê-em, pre-) noun
1.  The area of a modern theater that is located between the curtain and the orchestra.
2.  The stage of an ancient theater, located between the background and the orchestra.

It is not an uncommon practice to build a false proscenium for a show to make it aesthetically pleasing.  If you've seen the musical Wicked, the false proscenium is what the dragon is mounted on.

For the FCCJ summer musical that I am stage managing, Beauty and the Beast, there was a false proscenium built, painted and hung.  During rehearsal on Tuesday, it was hanging about 7 feet off of the ground at its lowest point and roughly 25 feet at its highest point.  At about 8:20 PM after a loud crack, it came crashing down, breaking into hundreds of pieces.  That's about 750 pounds of lumber hurtling towards a stage populated by about thirty children.

The worst injury sustained was a splinter in my friend Kate's finger while cleaning up the debris.

This all happened no more than eight feet from where I was sitting, recording blocking.  Pieces of wood reached the table I was sitting at.  And yet, of the forty people present there, nobody was hurt due to the slight (but ever so important) design flaw in the false proscenium.

I feel like I should be feeling like Jules right now; that is, like I just witnessed a miracle through divine intervention.  If it had broken about thirty seconds earlier, our dance choreographer would, in all likeliness, be in the hospital.  One minute earlier, it would have had one of the leads.  Three minutes earlier, an assortment of kids.  And yet every cast member happened to be upstage enough to stand clear while the false proscenium plummeted.

But I feel more like Vincent; I feel like the only thing I've seen is just dumb luck.  I just witnessed a freak occurrence.  I'm sure there are people who were there who thought it was an act of God, but I didn't feel a thing.  Maybe it's just the years of cynicism, I don't know.

But still, in the words of Jules: "We should be fucking dead, man."
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(no subject) [May. 24th, 2009|10:50 pm]
[Tags|, ]
[Current Mood |highlol]

This e-mail made me laugh like an idiot.

"I thought that you might be interested in what Facebook has to say to me:
"None of your friends have made any comments yet. Maybe you need more friends."
What do you think, John, do I need MORE friends????"



Oh mothers and their internets.
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(no subject) [May. 20th, 2009|09:33 am]
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[Current Music |Meatloaf: I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)]

What wouldn't Meatloaf do for love?

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(no subject) [Apr. 22nd, 2009|10:50 am]
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[Current Mood |exhausted]
[Current Music |Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Maps]

There's ketchup in my bathtub.
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She's buried right in my backyard! [Apr. 6th, 2009|01:52 am]
[Current Mood |picking my finger nails]
[Current Music |Richard Cheese: I Used to Love Her]

Sean, the respiring behind every last one of your conversations is an analogy for my life.  But none of you know Sean.

Everybody is having a good time.  Sean on standby.  There is fluent chatter over a couple of cold ones.  Just when you think the discourse is about to reach the biggest, climaxing laugh, queue Sean.  He'll jump in with a story with some slight relevence.  He has everyone's attention in the palm of his hand.  His story has great joke structure; the build is tremendous.  The anecdote goes on for a bit longer than usual, but it's fine, because everybody believes that his banter has a huge, Tarantinoesque culmination.  But he keeps going on with the set-up, and it instead ends on a soft discord where there should be a massive punch line.  A quiet crowd afterwards, not a boisterous one.  A few nervous pity-chuckles, a few discreet face-palms.  The conversation resumes, but half-heartedly, and not with the same velocity.  Everybody must be capable of psychic communication, because they are all thinking the same thought: "why the fuck did you just tell that story?"

This is a mighty tasty blend of Apple Jack.

Harold Crick had difficulty discerning if his life was a comedy or a tragedy.  I am no different.  Just because you happened to be around, what does that make you?  Good?  You and your hypocrisy can go to hell.  I will amend and make it better with every effort I possess, but please PLEASE call me back; I don't think I have another severance in me.  But what I do have is amazing repression abilities.  I'm comparable to the likes of Leonard Shelby; I can make myself forget.  No memory is an exception.

You all think you know what you're up against.  But none of you really do.  By morning, we're all going to be DEAD.
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(no subject) [Mar. 26th, 2009|11:10 pm]
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[Current Mood |cranked]
[Current Music |The Crowd: Trix Are for Kids]

Really, one of the worst ideas I've ever had.

I'm about halfway through my 41 hours of staying awake.  Not doing this because I want to, but there really is no opportunity for me to sleep for more than about an hour and a half between 4:30 AM Thursday and 10 PM Friday, so I acquired a twelve pack of Red Bull and am imbibing it over the course of this stint, amongst other stimulants.

I'm fully aware it's a terrible idea.  It's always better to get at least an hour of sleep than to go on empty.

... but I'm still looking forward to the glorious, epic crash when I make it to the finish line.
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(no subject) [Feb. 17th, 2009|10:14 pm]
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[Current Music |Muse: Take a Bow]

"Moreover, the moment you touch beauty, it's gone."
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