Wednesday, August 29, 2007

What I did over the summer.

Earlier this month, I read the Waffle House story during open mic night at Wordsmiths Books, which is a store in Decatur owned by my friend/former co-worker Zach.

Also, I performed in BRAWL! at Dad's Garage this summer, appearing twice as disabled wrestler Walker Von Hart. In the final show, I had to appear as a zombie, and Steve Platinum managed to snap a couple shots of me backstage wearing zombie makeup.

(NOTE: In this photo, I'm also reading Y: THE LAST MAN, another activity that I did somewhat obsessively this summer.)

This is Trent, my improv classmate, applying my zombie makeup.

Last but not least, my sister-in-law gave birth to another boy in July, so I have a new nephew named Andrew.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

I heart Internet celebrities.

OMG, the coolest fucking thing just happened! I checked my brand-new YouTube account to see if Chris and/or Nick from the BOYFRIENDING NICK YouTube series had posted anything new. (Chris is my favorite. He's really funny and - OK, fine, I'll admit it - supercute, and he manages to make lip-synching videos that are clever, rather than annoying.)

Anyway, when I logged into my account, I had a completely unsolicited e-mail note from the self-same Chris (!!!!!!!!!!!!!). He was asking me for my profile information, for I'm apparently his 400th subscriber.

I wrote him a note back describing myself and telling him that I signed up for a YouTube account because I wanted to subscribe to his videos, which is true.

His story's great. Check him out.

I hope he doesn't mind me appropriating his photo.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Notes from the Moleskine.

OK, so the reason for all the blog posts is because I'm transcribing notes I've written in a journal or on a legal pad. I'm doing this because it feels productive.

- 4/25 Customer described a CD as "too Starbuck-ish."

- 4/9 from Dear Abby:

"The greatest gift people can give one another is the gift of their time, their affection and their interest. No tangible item compares to the gift of love."

- Notes/outline from project:

Random attempt at a beginning -

I'd made a mistake. That part became clear when I woke up alone. Next to the office copier. In a bridesmaid's dress. On a Sunday.

My shoes were in Brad's cubicle, the place where we'd found ourselves "carried away" the night before.

I've had too many mornings like this.


Random lines to potentially use:

"You can have him back in a minute to do whatever you want with him. But he and I have been sleeping together for months, so right now I outrank you."

"You smell like fabric softener."



1) Wake up on the Non's floor. Alone.
2) Break up with the Non because what's the damn point anyway ...
3) Meet up with friends.
4) Explain everything to them.
5) Get a new look.
6) Get another new look.
7) Think about doing an overwhelmingly "chick" thing and go shopping for new shoes.
8) Read "chick" lit to show you that making such ridiculous mistakes in your personal life aren't just sad and pathetic, they're the gateway to both inspired comedy and soul-searching.
9) Help your pregnant friend get an ultrasound because her own man is a jackass, too...
10) Do something to get your mind off yourself.
11) Realize "I am a puppet of God, subject to His whim and His sick sense of humor."
12) Quit your job.
13) While at the job, quit the Non again because he works there.
14) Dance with yourself.
15) Be OK without a man.
16) Be more than OK.
17) Learn for yourself that there's a difference between "want" and "need."
18) Embrace positivity and positive thinking without resorting to that book, THE SECRET.
19) Say yes.
20) Learn that you'll survive making mistakes.
21) Learn that you'll survive making a LOT of mistakes.
22) Learn from your mistakes.
23) Accept and learn that you may never learn enough.

Anyway, that's what my notebook had in it.

Moment from my unfinished play.

OK, so I've been working somewhat on this romantic comedy idea I had a long time ago, thinking that maybe I could mix some of my old self-indulgent blog entries about my personal life with my newfound experiences in actual comedy theat-AH.

The only thing I feel really comfortable sharing at this point - to show some people that I do have something from this project - is the sort of break-up speech I wish I could've actually delivered to someone.

But, for anyone who has difficulty imagining me as a romantic hero, I set the scene below with someone else in mind. For someone who doesn't think I can be romantic, well, you're mistaken.

Anyway, to set the scene, first picture a young woman seeing for the first time that dream man she's always wanted. Picture their years of sitcom-like flirting, avoiding their attraction. (Actually, picture everything about this as sitcom-like, for that's part of the idea.) Picture their fights. Picture their banter. Picture her at the moment where she finally hooks up with him, the great season-cliffhanger moment.

Now, see her at this moment shortly afterward where she realizes that he'll never be the man she needs him to be and dares to say so.

"Don't make me feel guilty for wanting something more than this. That doesn't make me too crazy or too intense or too ... anything. I'm just hoping for a future where we're both less foolish or scared and actually get to enjoy one another.

I don't just want a night with you. Sex, for me, was not the big payoff of all this flirting. The payoff for me was that you'd finally consider me. That was what I wanted from you.

I don't want to fight or see other people or wait until we're 50 before you suddenly fucking realize that I'm the one you want. That's not good enough for me.

I love you. And you know me enough to know what sort of love I deserve.

I offered you that. And you told me that you'd rather waste more time, that you'd rather fool around, that you'd rather keep our relationship ... vague ... while you explored the possibilities with someone else, someone less intense, someone too flaky to actually admit that they wanted something.

I offered you me.

I offered you me, but you would rather waste more time."

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Something I wrote out by hand.

Written conversation I had with myself on a legal pad this morning.

I haven't seen Scotty in quite some time, at this point, so why is it that many of my thoughts throughout the day return to him? I know he's massively flawed, and I know that any attempt at contact with him would lead to another heartbroken experience.

Don't ask questions. You know what you find appealing. The level of comfort. The emotional closeness. The virtual guarantee of a good time in the moment.

Mostly, I think the thing that draws my brain to thoughts of Scott nowadays is fear. I fear that the incomplete, flawed, occasionally close, occasionally romantic and sometimes caring experience he offered me is the best I'll manage. When we're feeling vulnerable or needy, he and I have both turned to each other, despite knowing that it'll lead to another messy predicament, because it provided nice, real comfort. It was more comfort than we'd found with anyone else in recent years.

Is it too much to hope for the big, grand love experience no matter how old you are? The "comfortable" has become less of a comfort as I consider what ideal experiences and dreams I don't want to let go of yet. Scotty wanted perfect love, too. But we never saw that possibility within each other. We liked each other well enough. There were really great moments. But, all in all, there was no commitment ceremony in our future. (Hell, Scotty couldn't even manage a minor commitment. Eventually, seeking a label for whatever was going on between the two of us, I started calling him my "non-boyfriend" or "half-boyfriend" to denote - even in my head - that I hadn't wasted several months of the last year on "nothing in particular.")