Ash came over last night. He'd gotten his haircut.
I have cerebral palsy, and I have difficulty supporting myself on my arms. And I'm heavier than I would like to be.
Ash just got out of the hospital after having leg surgery, so he can't really move or bend or anything.
So, during the time he was "over," Ash and I looked like we were engaged in a Special Olympics Greco-Roman wrestling competition.
Sometimes I felt like I was holding on to him like a balance beam. At other points, I was on my side, not holding on to anything yet convulsing, like a fish flopping around on dry land.
He didn't stay very long. I'm not sure I blame him. I half wanted to leave, myself.
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
She's alone in the new pollution.
Susan Sontag is dead, so, not really familiar with the actual work of Susan Sontag, I told Miss Gibson that she should become the modern feminist icon.
She thought that was really funny, for some reason, but what does someone have to do these days to become a proper philosopher and social critic?
When's our Jazz Age? Why can't we all sit around the round table at the Algonquin and pontificate endlessly while drunk?
I want that. I want to be genius-and-madman, not just madman.
I want to be all, "Romance deserves a renaissance," and have people be all "Ooh, listen to him." (I suppose that pontification would work better if I used actual verbs.)
Still, this is our time and our culture, and I think we should contribute.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Top Ten of 2004.
I used to do this list with more panache than I have in the past couple years. It's just that, as I've gotten the opportunity to see more films before their release dates and read other lists, I've always held out before releasing my own personal list. But I don't want it to be February before my list comes out. I have not seen all the Oscar-eligible movies for 2004 yet, most notably the well-reviewed MILLION DOLLAR BABY and HERO, but I shouldn't wait. So, without further explanation, here are my favorite films of the ones I've seen.
10. SPIDER-MAN 2. I love well-written, well-made movies with strong stories, complicated heroes, complicated villains and an exploration of the role that choice can play in our lives. Through understanding his characters and their comic-book origins and histories, director Sam Raimi vastly improves upon his original film, creates a really fun, popcorn-movie ride and turns SPIDER-MAN 2 into a thorough, damn interesting film with a great, great ending.
9. THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST. This is a jarring, violent, uncomfortable film, depicting the last, horrible hours in the life of Jesus as a deluge of suffering and sacrifice. I am not religious, and I don't agree with several of director Mel Gibson's political stances. But THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST is a brave, risky, harsh film that knows exactly what it's trying to do and does it well. It doesn't look away from the harsher aspects of its violence, for it's trying so desperately to communicate the feelings of pain and grief to its audience and move them. In the midst of Jesus's long walk to the cross, at one point, Mary is shown weeping for her son, thinking of him as a boy. That moment in the film, where Jesus is shown at his most human, is, for me, when it's most touching. Like SCHINDLER'S LIST before it, THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST is not at all fun and may be too difficult to watch more than once, but it's a tremendously effective, smart piece of cinema.
8. COLLATERAL. Though this Michael Mann thriller never really answers the question Lupo asked of it (i.e., "Why does the killer need a taxi when he could just rent a car?") and has holes in the logic of its story, COLLATERAL is a solid, fun movie that just keeps moving, getting more and more twisted and interesting. Tom Cruise gets the showy role of contract killer Vincent and proves himself more than worthy, but the great Jamie Foxx, in many ways, steals the movie out from under him as Max, the hostage cab driver. It's a gritty film. The digital camerawork, which can weaken the impact of some films for me, is one of COLLATERAL's strengths, adding to its mood and keeping things uneasy and weird.
7. THE AVIATOR. Martin Scorsese's biopic of Howard Hughes, featuring the pilot-film director-playboy-tycoon in his golden years while only hinting at his eventual decline into complete madness, is a well-written, well-acted, great-looking and entertaining film, and it features a career-best performance from Leonardo DiCaprio. Cate Blanchett's take on Katharine Hepburn is startlingly good, as well. It's an ambitious epic of a movie, and it succeeds.
6. BEFORE SUNSET. For two hours, I sat and watched two characters I adored once get reacquainted, rekindling what was left of a brief childhood romance. Though I was in the theater and Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy) were wandering through Paris onscreen, the intimate way director Richard Linklater made BEFORE SUNSET made me feel like I was there with them. And the chemistry and conversation came just as naturally for them as it did nine years ago in BEFORE SUNRISE, my favorite modern romance. Of course, since Jesse and Celine are older and more complicated and guarded now than they were, their two-hour conversation, which encompasses the entire film, is fraught with moments of occasional anger, tension and madness. Their memories of that single night of young love have affected who they are and how they view all their relationships, and their reconnection isn't always great for them. But BEFORE SUNSET is divine to watch, realistic in how it compares the risks and dangers of mature romance to the idealized notions of young love.
5. RAY. This movie is completely awesome. The music, of course, is great, and the story is inspiring. The look of it is authentic. And the acting, my word, is glorious. Jamie Foxx, even more brilliant than he was in COLLATERAL, embodies Ray Charles in a way that transcends imitation. Foxx is compelling, and he maintains his character's charm even when the film delves, without abandon, into the story's darker aspects of drug abuse and childhood trauma. I never expected RAY to be this good. But, catching it in a sneak preview, I realized this was the best music biopic I'd seen since WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT, and I immediately told everyone to catch this in the theater.
4. KILL BILL, VOL. 2. The first film exploded with style and innovation, and more of the same occurs in Quentin Tarantino's action-packed, dizzying sequel, which adds layers of depth to the characters and their backstory while continuing to innovate as The Bride gets her final revenge. Months after seeing it, I still recall the fantastic Elle Driver trailer fight scene, the horrifying buried-alive sequence and that final, surprisingly calm conversation between Bill and The Bride. The movie has a great cast, a great look, a good story and fantastic visuals. It's smart about its craft, and it's very entertaining.
3. SKY CAPTAIN AND THE WORLD OF TOMORROW. This was, easily, the most fun I had in a cinema all year. SKY CAPTAIN is a beautiful-looking film, a technological marvel, a grand adventure and a funny throwback to old-time movie serials. Jude Law fills the typical hero role with fervor, and Gwyneth Paltrow has loads of fun with her role as Polly Perkins, a damsel-in-distress almost as annoying as she is delicious. There are neat twists to the tried-and-true formula, and the script is filled with lots of genuine wit. This film reminded me of what I liked about movies when I was a kid. I liked a good story. I liked the marvel. I liked the cliffhangers. I liked big, stunning visuals. SKY CAPTAIN has all that, and, most importantly, it has a heart.
2. SIDEWAYS. Alexander Payne's films are really funny. But they can also tap into moments that are so true, painful and real. As Paul Giamatti's Miles faces defeat after defeat and sinks further into depression and alcoholism, we see him both as the loser he's become, and we see him sympathetically as someone talented who's still capable of goodness and deserving of some kind of joy. I identified more clearly with his character than with any other that I've seen this year. When he's doing things wrong or doing things against his will, we're there with him, understanding his reasons while cursing his flaws. SIDEWAYS is a great, human story, funny, sad and deep.
1. ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND. The most original, daring, dizzying movie I saw this year came out in February. And, upon seeing it, I was certain I'd seen a great movie, but I didn't realize that I'd seen the best movie of the year. But, thus far, nothing beats ETERNAL SUNSHINE. The performances in it are among the best of the year. Kate Winslet's wacky character of Clementine, with her ever-changing moods and her ever-changing hair color, manages to be both off-the-wall and identifiable. It's the best work Winslet's done since HEAVENLY CREATURES. Jim Carrey, in contrast, underplays Joel as depressed, subdued and calm, losing himself and all his usual mannerisms in the role. Screenwriter Charlie Kaufman and director Michel Gondry jump into the story quickly and play with the timeline of their wacky narrative so much that you're, frankly, amazed when they succeed in creating a story of depth, understanding, truth and romance. The central memory-erasing story is told backward. The film also jumps around, occasionally focusing upon dozens of characters in a subplot that doesn't seem to fit in and even delving, at one point, into a visual depiction of a character's subconscious. But when you're done letting ETERNAL SUNSHINE make sense of itself, it leaves you with a key understanding of how our memories make up who we are - and how love, even at its ugliest, may still be worth the risk.
Since a number of people have pointed out to me films that they'd want mentioned or included, I thought I would expand my list, as I have in years past, to include honorable mentions - good movies I liked which could've made the list but didn't - and one outside-of-the-box film that works as a guilty pleasure. In previous years, the guilty pleasure films have included Britney Spears' CROSSROADS, Jason Statham's THE TRANSPORTER and Angelina Jolie's ORIGINAL SIN.
HONORABLE MENTIONS: VERA DRAKE, GARDEN STATE, SUPER SIZE ME, FAHRENHEIT 9/11, THE INCREDIBLES, THE DOOR IN THE FLOOR, FINDING NEVERLAND
GUILTY PLEASURE PRIZE: CELLULAR. No other film this year had such an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink feel as CELLULAR. No other film featured a showdown fight scene between, of all people, Jason Statham and William H. Macy. No other film featured Kim Basinger, who was brilliant in THE DOOR IN THE FLOOR, at such a level of frenzied histrionics. And no other film had such crackerjack plotting so that it ended up a satisfying, fun little gimmick movie. Cute people go on the run from bad villains in a movie that tries to use every plausible cell phone contrivance or complication it can find, essentially, and the movie just works.
10. SPIDER-MAN 2. I love well-written, well-made movies with strong stories, complicated heroes, complicated villains and an exploration of the role that choice can play in our lives. Through understanding his characters and their comic-book origins and histories, director Sam Raimi vastly improves upon his original film, creates a really fun, popcorn-movie ride and turns SPIDER-MAN 2 into a thorough, damn interesting film with a great, great ending.
9. THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST. This is a jarring, violent, uncomfortable film, depicting the last, horrible hours in the life of Jesus as a deluge of suffering and sacrifice. I am not religious, and I don't agree with several of director Mel Gibson's political stances. But THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST is a brave, risky, harsh film that knows exactly what it's trying to do and does it well. It doesn't look away from the harsher aspects of its violence, for it's trying so desperately to communicate the feelings of pain and grief to its audience and move them. In the midst of Jesus's long walk to the cross, at one point, Mary is shown weeping for her son, thinking of him as a boy. That moment in the film, where Jesus is shown at his most human, is, for me, when it's most touching. Like SCHINDLER'S LIST before it, THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST is not at all fun and may be too difficult to watch more than once, but it's a tremendously effective, smart piece of cinema.
8. COLLATERAL. Though this Michael Mann thriller never really answers the question Lupo asked of it (i.e., "Why does the killer need a taxi when he could just rent a car?") and has holes in the logic of its story, COLLATERAL is a solid, fun movie that just keeps moving, getting more and more twisted and interesting. Tom Cruise gets the showy role of contract killer Vincent and proves himself more than worthy, but the great Jamie Foxx, in many ways, steals the movie out from under him as Max, the hostage cab driver. It's a gritty film. The digital camerawork, which can weaken the impact of some films for me, is one of COLLATERAL's strengths, adding to its mood and keeping things uneasy and weird.
7. THE AVIATOR. Martin Scorsese's biopic of Howard Hughes, featuring the pilot-film director-playboy-tycoon in his golden years while only hinting at his eventual decline into complete madness, is a well-written, well-acted, great-looking and entertaining film, and it features a career-best performance from Leonardo DiCaprio. Cate Blanchett's take on Katharine Hepburn is startlingly good, as well. It's an ambitious epic of a movie, and it succeeds.
6. BEFORE SUNSET. For two hours, I sat and watched two characters I adored once get reacquainted, rekindling what was left of a brief childhood romance. Though I was in the theater and Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy) were wandering through Paris onscreen, the intimate way director Richard Linklater made BEFORE SUNSET made me feel like I was there with them. And the chemistry and conversation came just as naturally for them as it did nine years ago in BEFORE SUNRISE, my favorite modern romance. Of course, since Jesse and Celine are older and more complicated and guarded now than they were, their two-hour conversation, which encompasses the entire film, is fraught with moments of occasional anger, tension and madness. Their memories of that single night of young love have affected who they are and how they view all their relationships, and their reconnection isn't always great for them. But BEFORE SUNSET is divine to watch, realistic in how it compares the risks and dangers of mature romance to the idealized notions of young love.
5. RAY. This movie is completely awesome. The music, of course, is great, and the story is inspiring. The look of it is authentic. And the acting, my word, is glorious. Jamie Foxx, even more brilliant than he was in COLLATERAL, embodies Ray Charles in a way that transcends imitation. Foxx is compelling, and he maintains his character's charm even when the film delves, without abandon, into the story's darker aspects of drug abuse and childhood trauma. I never expected RAY to be this good. But, catching it in a sneak preview, I realized this was the best music biopic I'd seen since WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT, and I immediately told everyone to catch this in the theater.
4. KILL BILL, VOL. 2. The first film exploded with style and innovation, and more of the same occurs in Quentin Tarantino's action-packed, dizzying sequel, which adds layers of depth to the characters and their backstory while continuing to innovate as The Bride gets her final revenge. Months after seeing it, I still recall the fantastic Elle Driver trailer fight scene, the horrifying buried-alive sequence and that final, surprisingly calm conversation between Bill and The Bride. The movie has a great cast, a great look, a good story and fantastic visuals. It's smart about its craft, and it's very entertaining.
3. SKY CAPTAIN AND THE WORLD OF TOMORROW. This was, easily, the most fun I had in a cinema all year. SKY CAPTAIN is a beautiful-looking film, a technological marvel, a grand adventure and a funny throwback to old-time movie serials. Jude Law fills the typical hero role with fervor, and Gwyneth Paltrow has loads of fun with her role as Polly Perkins, a damsel-in-distress almost as annoying as she is delicious. There are neat twists to the tried-and-true formula, and the script is filled with lots of genuine wit. This film reminded me of what I liked about movies when I was a kid. I liked a good story. I liked the marvel. I liked the cliffhangers. I liked big, stunning visuals. SKY CAPTAIN has all that, and, most importantly, it has a heart.
2. SIDEWAYS. Alexander Payne's films are really funny. But they can also tap into moments that are so true, painful and real. As Paul Giamatti's Miles faces defeat after defeat and sinks further into depression and alcoholism, we see him both as the loser he's become, and we see him sympathetically as someone talented who's still capable of goodness and deserving of some kind of joy. I identified more clearly with his character than with any other that I've seen this year. When he's doing things wrong or doing things against his will, we're there with him, understanding his reasons while cursing his flaws. SIDEWAYS is a great, human story, funny, sad and deep.
1. ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND. The most original, daring, dizzying movie I saw this year came out in February. And, upon seeing it, I was certain I'd seen a great movie, but I didn't realize that I'd seen the best movie of the year. But, thus far, nothing beats ETERNAL SUNSHINE. The performances in it are among the best of the year. Kate Winslet's wacky character of Clementine, with her ever-changing moods and her ever-changing hair color, manages to be both off-the-wall and identifiable. It's the best work Winslet's done since HEAVENLY CREATURES. Jim Carrey, in contrast, underplays Joel as depressed, subdued and calm, losing himself and all his usual mannerisms in the role. Screenwriter Charlie Kaufman and director Michel Gondry jump into the story quickly and play with the timeline of their wacky narrative so much that you're, frankly, amazed when they succeed in creating a story of depth, understanding, truth and romance. The central memory-erasing story is told backward. The film also jumps around, occasionally focusing upon dozens of characters in a subplot that doesn't seem to fit in and even delving, at one point, into a visual depiction of a character's subconscious. But when you're done letting ETERNAL SUNSHINE make sense of itself, it leaves you with a key understanding of how our memories make up who we are - and how love, even at its ugliest, may still be worth the risk.
Since a number of people have pointed out to me films that they'd want mentioned or included, I thought I would expand my list, as I have in years past, to include honorable mentions - good movies I liked which could've made the list but didn't - and one outside-of-the-box film that works as a guilty pleasure. In previous years, the guilty pleasure films have included Britney Spears' CROSSROADS, Jason Statham's THE TRANSPORTER and Angelina Jolie's ORIGINAL SIN.
HONORABLE MENTIONS: VERA DRAKE, GARDEN STATE, SUPER SIZE ME, FAHRENHEIT 9/11, THE INCREDIBLES, THE DOOR IN THE FLOOR, FINDING NEVERLAND
GUILTY PLEASURE PRIZE: CELLULAR. No other film this year had such an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink feel as CELLULAR. No other film featured a showdown fight scene between, of all people, Jason Statham and William H. Macy. No other film featured Kim Basinger, who was brilliant in THE DOOR IN THE FLOOR, at such a level of frenzied histrionics. And no other film had such crackerjack plotting so that it ended up a satisfying, fun little gimmick movie. Cute people go on the run from bad villains in a movie that tries to use every plausible cell phone contrivance or complication it can find, essentially, and the movie just works.
I'm Carrie.
I just used one of my gift cards from this weekend to finish off my collection of "Sex and the City" DVDs. The last episodes of the sixth season came out today. I'm so excited that I finally own every episode of it, and I think there might be something wrong with my level of sheer enthusiasm.
In the beginning of the show, I thought I was clearly Miranda, the smart, cynical one afraid to show vulnerability. (Jenipher, by the way, is the embodiment of Charlotte.) But then, as time passed, I realized that I'm all about showing vulnerability and romanticism. And I'll all about talking about problems moreso than fixing them. And I ask the big, philosophical questions. So now I think I've come to terms with the fact that I'm Carrie.
I'm going to have to abandon my GILMORE GIRLS DVD set for a night.
SEX AND THE CITY beckons.
Monday, December 27, 2004
The most unique gift.
My friend Brad took some years-old snapshots of me, scanned them, made them into refrigerator magnets and gave them to me for Christmas.
They're photos of me and his friend Kim sitting on a bed and lying on a bed. In them, I look like I need a shave. Oh, and Kim's topless in them and wearing a thong.
The best part is that, in the photos, you can tell that I'm trying my best not to look directly at the naked woman.
They're photos of me and his friend Kim sitting on a bed and lying on a bed. In them, I look like I need a shave. Oh, and Kim's topless in them and wearing a thong.
The best part is that, in the photos, you can tell that I'm trying my best not to look directly at the naked woman.
Yuletide redux.
* Spent Christmas Eve at Larry's condo, exchanging presents and watching SWEENEY TODD on DVD. We watched SWEENEY TODD instead of going out and watching PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, which I believe is going to be terrible. Still, I feel I must confess that I learned all the lyrics to the major songs of it when I was 13, and I saw it on Broadway when I was a senior in high school. But SWEENEY TODD is way better than PHANTOM OF THE OPERA. PHANTOM's about obsession and murder. So's SWEENEY. But it also involves haircuts, meat pies and cannibalism.
* Nana's caramel cake made it to the Christmas Eve lasagna feast at my dad's house, even though Nana didn't. At one point during dinner, I got into a conversation with my stepmother's mother about the cake, and she told me that the frosting didn't come out right because, while Nana was making it, she collapsed and had to be helped to her room. Beyond that, Nana now suffers from dementia. After my stepmother's mother told that story, I felt really rude asking for Nana's recipe, but that caramel cake is the best dessert ever. (Seriously, do the math. My STEPMOTHER'S grandmother's caramel cake is so good that my MOTHER is happy when we bring home leftovers of it from my FATHER'S house. Thus, that cake has bridged the generation gap and the divorce gap. It's powerful stuff.)
* I got into an argument with one of my dad's friends, who was in more of a blowhard tone-of-voice than usual, when he suggested that the "Confederacy" re-elected Bush and that the majority of Georgia voters "probably don't know how to read ... or don't read." I told him that, though I'm a Democrat, I wouldn't go so far as to calling everyone who voted Bush stupid. (Particularly when there were a number of educated people who invited him there who voted Bush.) We lost the election, y'all. It wasn't nearly as close as last time, when I felt like such complaints were more valid. The situation's bad, but it's done. If some friends invite you to their Christmas dinner, don't call them illiterate yokels out to intentionally destroy the world. Don't insult my dad and say he should be sent to Baghdad to die. Drink your wine. Talk about your imaginary, long-distance girlfriend that you've been mentioning for a decade. Talk about movies. Other than that, shut the hell up. It's Christmas.
* For Christmas, I got the third season of ALIAS and the second season of GILMORE GIRLS on DVD. It hurt to leave the house this morning.
* I will never, ever, ever again go to a gay bar on Christmas Eve. I mean, yikes. It was sad. People who didn't want to go home alone or go home to parents sober or, the worst, flight attendants stuck here on a long layover willing to throw money around while looking for a friend.
* Ash got out of the hospital on Christmas Day.
* Vic got back from Illinois after being stuck in traffic or a snowstorm for over 20 hours.
* Lupo's fresh off the boat, which he called "a hell worse than death" in a ship-to-shore e-mail last week.
* Saw THE LIFE AQUATIC WITH STEVE ZISSOU. Sucked. Saw THE AVIATOR. Very good.
* The annoying, bitchy seasonal employee at my bookstore probably only works there another week. I've hated her since she insulted a blind, deaf, 94-year-old customer in a walker in a tone-of-voice so soft that he couldn't hear her. And I've tried my best to get the bitch fired.
* I watched A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS and am as puzzled by it as I was when I was a kid. How do they get that Christmas tree to grow extra branches and a completely different shape? None of the Peanuts even has pruning shears.
Friday, December 24, 2004
Jimi thing.
Yesterday at the bookstore, I waited on this cute guy named Jimmy, who is more than likely straight. He and I talked music, and I was, I think, flirting shamelessly. And, to his benefit, he didn't notice or chose to ignore it.
For some reason, though, while we were talking about Damien Rice, he mentioned two artists to me that I do not have in my collection.
One was a new group, and I don't recall their name. Jimmy had great blond hair, was short and had these dimples that just wouldn't quit.
But Jimmy also mentioned Jimi Hendrix, and I am sad to say that I don't own any Jimi Hendrix.
So I asked Jimmy about Jimi, and he recommended an album to me. He recommended it with such passion and with such a cute gleam in his eye that I, being smitten, immediately purchased the album.
Jimmy said "Blues" is his favorite Jimi album because it isn't blaring and loud, and you can really concentrate on the guitar work.
I asked Jimmy if he played guitar. He said he plays it badly.
So now I own some Jimi Hendrix. Thanks to cute, straight Jimmy.
For some reason, though, while we were talking about Damien Rice, he mentioned two artists to me that I do not have in my collection.
One was a new group, and I don't recall their name. Jimmy had great blond hair, was short and had these dimples that just wouldn't quit.
But Jimmy also mentioned Jimi Hendrix, and I am sad to say that I don't own any Jimi Hendrix.
So I asked Jimmy about Jimi, and he recommended an album to me. He recommended it with such passion and with such a cute gleam in his eye that I, being smitten, immediately purchased the album.
Jimmy said "Blues" is his favorite Jimi album because it isn't blaring and loud, and you can really concentrate on the guitar work.
I asked Jimmy if he played guitar. He said he plays it badly.
So now I own some Jimi Hendrix. Thanks to cute, straight Jimmy.
Merry Christmas.
I sent out this sentiment to some friends yesterday, and writing it cheered me up. I thought it might help some random stranger (or someone pretending to be Kevin Smith on the comment board).
Do whatever necessary to get yourself in the proper mood for the holidays.
Watch the movie that most reminds you of the holiday, be it about a happy family or a dysfunctional one or, um, even the Plantagenets. Listen to Judy Garland's version of HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS. Watch Charlie Brown try and save that pathetic, little tree. Go to church, if you do that. Go shopping, if you do that.
I know that I've not been in the best of moods lately. Working retail in December can make you long desperately for some month that isn't insane, and you start to think that people have lost complete sense of their priorities when they're yelling at family and making themselves crazy just to assure that they have all their gifts.
Still, if you spend some time over the weekend singing a song, giving a dollar to the people ringing the bells from the Salvation Army, enjoying the look and feel of winter clothing and getting the opportunity to be around people you really enjoy, you'll feel better.
Thanks, guys, for what you contribute to my life. (And forgive that for coming out so saccharine. I don't know what's come over me.)
I hope you all make it the best day.
Do whatever necessary to get yourself in the proper mood for the holidays.
Watch the movie that most reminds you of the holiday, be it about a happy family or a dysfunctional one or, um, even the Plantagenets. Listen to Judy Garland's version of HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS. Watch Charlie Brown try and save that pathetic, little tree. Go to church, if you do that. Go shopping, if you do that.
I know that I've not been in the best of moods lately. Working retail in December can make you long desperately for some month that isn't insane, and you start to think that people have lost complete sense of their priorities when they're yelling at family and making themselves crazy just to assure that they have all their gifts.
Still, if you spend some time over the weekend singing a song, giving a dollar to the people ringing the bells from the Salvation Army, enjoying the look and feel of winter clothing and getting the opportunity to be around people you really enjoy, you'll feel better.
Thanks, guys, for what you contribute to my life. (And forgive that for coming out so saccharine. I don't know what's come over me.)
I hope you all make it the best day.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
I can predict the future.
Check the date on this post, baby. I am so ahead of pop culture right now.
Hopefully, this means I'll be right about AMERICAN IDOL spiralling downward in ratings during its next cycle of atrocious music.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
I just don't feel like it.
I don't want to waste anyone else's time anymore. I don't want to talk about hating my job if I don't take the steps to leave it. I don't want other people to encourage me to write a book or write a story if I'm not going to do it. I don't want other people to be all "GO BENJIE!" when that's not the attitude that I seem to adopt ever.
I don't feel like this is going anywhere. And that doesn't STILL bug me enough to actually do anything about it.
Bob, my former supervisor, bet me today that I'll probably get fired from my job before I quit it.
It's 8 p.m. I'm still at my desk. I don't know what I'm doing here. I'm not even supposed to be here.
I have Christmas shopping to do.
I don't feel like this is going anywhere. And that doesn't STILL bug me enough to actually do anything about it.
Bob, my former supervisor, bet me today that I'll probably get fired from my job before I quit it.
It's 8 p.m. I'm still at my desk. I don't know what I'm doing here. I'm not even supposed to be here.
I have Christmas shopping to do.
Somewhere in the darkness.
At lunch, I went to my usual Blimpie, had my usual tuna sandwich and sat at my usual table with my usual Living section of the AJC.
Next to me, the owner's 13-year-old nephew, whom I'd never met before, was writing down a list of commands.
"Power surge," "life surge," "water surge" ...
I asked him, after the owner sat with him (and she knows me), what he was working on.
And he told me this long, long idea he had for the mythology behind a computer game he was dreaming up. About a 13-year-old boy who's dark and quiet, who doesn't know how to talk to people, isn't very popular and has special powers that few people notice.
So I started asking him questions about his project, offering him questions about his characters and what their tasks and goals might be.
And, in the process, I told him about outlining the story, developing individual characters and knowing kinda where you want to go and kinda letting it just go there in its own time.
He asked me if I was a game designer.
"No," I said, and I hesitated. "I'm a writer."
"You mean, like novels and stories?" he asked.
"Yeah," I lied.
He told me I helped him. I told him that I didn't point out anything to him that wasn't already there.
Next to me, the owner's 13-year-old nephew, whom I'd never met before, was writing down a list of commands.
"Power surge," "life surge," "water surge" ...
I asked him, after the owner sat with him (and she knows me), what he was working on.
And he told me this long, long idea he had for the mythology behind a computer game he was dreaming up. About a 13-year-old boy who's dark and quiet, who doesn't know how to talk to people, isn't very popular and has special powers that few people notice.
So I started asking him questions about his project, offering him questions about his characters and what their tasks and goals might be.
And, in the process, I told him about outlining the story, developing individual characters and knowing kinda where you want to go and kinda letting it just go there in its own time.
He asked me if I was a game designer.
"No," I said, and I hesitated. "I'm a writer."
"You mean, like novels and stories?" he asked.
"Yeah," I lied.
He told me I helped him. I told him that I didn't point out anything to him that wasn't already there.
Someone asked, "How are you?"
I think I'm technically terrible, but I don't know why I feel so damn fine about everything. Seriously, to cheer myself up a few minutes ago, I went out and leaned over the third-floor balcony before I came to the conclusion that the impact of that would be worse than what I was dealing with. I think I'll be able to write my story about suicide better now.
Last night, Ash assured me from the hospital that we could have meaningless sex again once he regains use of his legs. (The surgery to remove a minor blood clot became more invasive after they noticed its size. Also, he may have a blood clot in his heart, so he's in the hospital until that breaks down.)
But we're not boyfriends, and we're not in love. And, if we tried to date, it would be a disaster. So he called me a "fuck buddy," which made me realize that the primary romantic relationship I currently have is one that I compromised to get and never wanted. But we're friends and able to talk.
The guy I kissed last week, the one I said would never call me, called me that night and then never called me again. Classic.
My supervisor yelled at me over minutae from work that probably matters to somebody, but I, like, so don't care, as usual. So I went to my old boss to vent about it. And he told me to finish up with my requisite tantrum and then get back to work. I completely understood that meant neither he nor I expected me to actually ever do anything to leave here and make my life into what I want it to be. (And what is that, exactly?)
So that's when I went out, leaned against the railing on the balcony and considered. Two people, including my other boss's wife, saw me do this and looked puzzled. But I turned to them and said hi. Then, feeling better and understanding the situation, I walked back to my cubicle, smiling.
Yesterday, I missed my therapy appointment. I have more Christmas shopping to do.
Last night, Ash assured me from the hospital that we could have meaningless sex again once he regains use of his legs. (The surgery to remove a minor blood clot became more invasive after they noticed its size. Also, he may have a blood clot in his heart, so he's in the hospital until that breaks down.)
But we're not boyfriends, and we're not in love. And, if we tried to date, it would be a disaster. So he called me a "fuck buddy," which made me realize that the primary romantic relationship I currently have is one that I compromised to get and never wanted. But we're friends and able to talk.
The guy I kissed last week, the one I said would never call me, called me that night and then never called me again. Classic.
My supervisor yelled at me over minutae from work that probably matters to somebody, but I, like, so don't care, as usual. So I went to my old boss to vent about it. And he told me to finish up with my requisite tantrum and then get back to work. I completely understood that meant neither he nor I expected me to actually ever do anything to leave here and make my life into what I want it to be. (And what is that, exactly?)
So that's when I went out, leaned against the railing on the balcony and considered. Two people, including my other boss's wife, saw me do this and looked puzzled. But I turned to them and said hi. Then, feeling better and understanding the situation, I walked back to my cubicle, smiling.
Yesterday, I missed my therapy appointment. I have more Christmas shopping to do.
Monday, December 20, 2004
All the news that's fit.
* At a Christmas party this weekend, I stood around an electric piano with about seven other gay men singing show tunes and Christmas carols. My rendition of "On the Street Where You Live" was beyond terrible, but I kept singing it louder and louder. One of my friends applauded my bravery but not my talent.
* My ex Ash is having surgery this morning. Last night, on the phone, he told me he loved me, and I said I loved him. I needed that maybe more than he did.
* Ash has recurring blood clots in his legs.
* I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
* Roger Ebert sent me a personal reply e-mail to a praise note I sent him. That was kinda cool.
* I have a story to write, but I'm not writing it.
* Don't see SPANGLISH. It's beyond annoying.
* See A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS. It's uneven storywise, but the look of it is just amazing. And there's a scene where Jim Carrey flirts with Meryl Streep that comes off as oddly delicious.
* I didn't notice traffic stopped this morning and almost collided with another car. I think I was half-awake.
* Vic's in Illinois. Lupo's in, I think, Texas or on a cruise or something. Jenipher is out of her office, I think. Dena's in Texas. Bonnie's home from work. Edmondson's in Florida.
* I think I still have Christmas shopping to do, but I'm not even sure who I'm doing Christmas shopping for - if that makes any sense.
* My ex Ash is having surgery this morning. Last night, on the phone, he told me he loved me, and I said I loved him. I needed that maybe more than he did.
* Ash has recurring blood clots in his legs.
* I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
* Roger Ebert sent me a personal reply e-mail to a praise note I sent him. That was kinda cool.
* I have a story to write, but I'm not writing it.
* Don't see SPANGLISH. It's beyond annoying.
* See A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS. It's uneven storywise, but the look of it is just amazing. And there's a scene where Jim Carrey flirts with Meryl Streep that comes off as oddly delicious.
* I didn't notice traffic stopped this morning and almost collided with another car. I think I was half-awake.
* Vic's in Illinois. Lupo's in, I think, Texas or on a cruise or something. Jenipher is out of her office, I think. Dena's in Texas. Bonnie's home from work. Edmondson's in Florida.
* I think I still have Christmas shopping to do, but I'm not even sure who I'm doing Christmas shopping for - if that makes any sense.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Kissing McFall.
I was supposed to see THE LIFE AQUATIC with Ron yesterday, but I got stuck in horrible, horrible traffic on the way there and missed him. I didn't have my phone on me, and, by the time I got to the theater, I was in a lousy mood.
So, of course, that was the exact moment that fate drew me into another random McFall encounter.
Have I mentioned McFall before? Oh yeah, I mentioned him here.
McFall is a guy I met four-and-a-half years ago at Phipps Plaza. He was attending a screening of "Queer as Folk" (the British one) that was in the middle of an intermission, and I was there browsing in a store when I ran into him.
And we flirted. And flirted. And flirted.
So, a couple days later, I called him, and we were going to go out. But, um, we never did. He was 19, I think, and flighty and in school and on the go. And I was 24, worked for CNN and went to bed at 9 p.m. because my work schedule was freakin' bizarre.
Then I got caught up in that whole Ejay romantic debacle, and I lost my job. And I had to move home to my mom's house. And all that stuff.
Basically, McFall, at the time, was a lost cause.
Fast-forward into 2001, and my co-worker Jamie and I are having lunch at Perimeter Mall. I turn around on the escalator down to the food court, and standing right behind me is McFall.
"He-e-ey," I said to him. "How are you?"
He told me he was fine. And he told me that he was glad I had noticed him because he'd been following me since Rich's to try and make sure that it was me. He'd followed me across half the freakin' mall.
So he buys me lunch, talks to Jamie, flirts with me, flirts with me, flirts with me ... and then drops the shocking bombshell that - uh - he has a boyfriend.
I was confused. Jamie, who'd been sitting there the whole time, was confused. Everyone, except McFall, was in a state of basic confusion.
"Did it seem like he was flirting with me to you?" I asked Jamie later that afternoon.
"Uh, YEAH," she said. "I couldn't believe he had a boyfriend."
So, as soon as I get to my office, I call McFall's cell phone, and he answers it.
So I ask him point-blank if he was flirting with me, telling him that I kept getting a vibe.
He admitted the vibe was there, admitted that he had a boyfriend and then told me that the three of us ought to meet sometime.
So my wires weren't crossed.
So thus begins the "McFall and I play phone tag for a year before I realize I'm calling him more than he's calling me, and that makes me feel creepy so I stop calling him" phase of our relationship.
So, around 2002, McFall changes jobs from some computer company to the Apple Store and had begun the second of many breakups with the boyfriend, and he lets me know that he works there. So I stop by.
And it's, like, crickets-chirping awkwardness between us. He's not in flirt mode. He doesn't want me there. I'm there too long. He's working and distant.
Bad vibe all around.
So I lose touch with McFall, and all's well that ends well, right?
Until earlier this year when I run into him at a grocery store when he and his friend stand right behind me in line, and he kinda flirts with me - but now he's really done with the boyfriend. He's there shopping with a friend.
So the friend goes to get the car, and McFall and I flirt for a bit. And I give him my phone number, even though I make a point of saying that he NEVER calls me when I give him my phone number.
And, in the moment before his friend drives the car around, I said to McFall, "You know, I never even kissed you."
McFall tells me not to because it'd be awkward and his friend is coming with the car, and the friend pulls up.
And I call McFall, but he doesn't call me.
Then, about four months ago, I walk into Best Buy, and McFall's there, working in the computer department. And I pick up my DVDs, and I talk to him for a moment. I make a conscious effort not to stay too long or talk to him too much.
And he's there at Best Buy when I go shop, but I don't shop there any more than I would otherwise.
I'm thinking that the H.M.S. McFall is a ship that's passed me by, you know, and all that it will be is all that it is. And it annoys me. McFall, whom I am attracted to and have never not been attracted to, is just this guy I run into occasionally, and, much as I'm happy to see him when we run into each other, it doesn't lead to anything. And that's annoying.
So then, last night, I'm an hour-and-a-half late for the screening, and McFall is standing outside the theater, holding his cell phone.
And McFall sees me and smiles. His whole face gets bright.
And I spit out a "Hi" and rush past him into the theater.
I get to the screening, show them the pass into it (because I had it and Ron didn't) and rush into it.
It's packed, and I go up and down the aisles twice.
And, I'm thinking, Ron would call to me if he were here. Ron would be looking for me if he were here.
And I don't have my phone on me, and Ron's cell number is from Massachusetts - and I have it saved so I don't have to remember it.
So I leave the screening, leave my name with the ticket-taker lady and go ask the usher if they have a pay phone.
He says they don't. And I ask if I can use their regular phone, and they say they don't let customers do that - because very few of their phone lines aren't internal and go out of the building. And he says Apres Diem, the restaurant next door, "used to have a pay phone but doesn't now."
And I spit out, "That's great, thank you ..." like a bastard, and I head out of there.
And I'm thinking Ron's mad at me. And he's thinking I stood him up. And he's probably thinking that I'm somehow mad at him since I've been moody around him lately. So it's more important to get to Ron. Beyond that, it's important to check my messages to see what he said when he surely tried to call me.
So I go past McFall, and he asks me if everything's OK. And I tell him no, saying that traffic was terrible and it put me in a bad mood and that the person I was supposed to meet probably left the theater.
And I start to walk away, then I turn around and ask him curtly if I can use his phone.
He says yes.
But McFall's got this newfangled cell phone with a keyboard, and it takes two phone calls before I'm able to check my messages. And one message is from Ron telling me to call him tomorrow to explain what happened, that he's left the movie because he didn't have the pass.
The other message on my cell phone, incidentally, was a recording of me and McFall trying to figure out if the phone was letting me check my messages.
McFall was there for the same screening. Someone invited him who didn't show up, so I tell him that traffic was terrible.
And he's moving back and forth, and he's pointing out cute guys to me.
He apologizes for the constant moving, saying he was cold, and he apologizes for the pointing but then he told me that he's single and always looking.
And the people he was supposed to be with didn't show up.
And he says that he's not waiting on a date, and he asked me if I was waiting on a date. And I told him no, that Ron has a husband and is just a friend.
And I looked like a mess in all likelihood.
But I say to him, "Look at me."
But McFall keeps swaying back and forth.
And I say, "Look at me."
I must've looked just awful, and I don't even know about my breath.But I did this anyway.
In front of the Landmark movie theater, in between the two brick columns, in the freezing cold weather, while we were supposed to be with other people, five minutes after the movie we were supposed to see had started and over four years after I first asked him out on a date, I kiss McFall. And he kisses me back. But only for a moment.
"That's why you wanted me to look at you," he says.
"I was going to make it one of those spontaneous moments," I say, "But you wouldn't stop moving."
"Well, I'm cold," McFall says.
So we talk a couple minutes more, but I tell him that I've got to get to my phone, get to Ron and fix this whole mistake.
"I'm going home," I said to him.
"Well, I can't go there," he said.
"No, you can't," I said.
And he raises an eyebrow and asked, "Why can't I?"
Because I've got to get to my phone, and I'm going to drive to Ron's and try and catch him there.
And McFall says he'll wait on his friends there five more minutes.
So McFall gets my phone number, even though I try to flatly refuse giving it to him because the man does not call me.
And he asks me for it again because he says he's got his phone right there and will save it.
And I'm, like, "Dude, you don't call me. I gave you my phone number four years ago."
But then I give him my phone number because I like McFall.
"And I said, if they don't show up, I'll be in the area," I said, "CALL ME."
"OK," he said, smiling.
"I mean, CALL ME TODAY," I said.
And then I left and went home and got my phone and tried to call Ron and didn't get him on the phone.
So I headed to his house. And I apologized and explained. And he berated me for not having my phone on me, calling it irresponsible.
And I said, "I had to kiss a guy just to check my messages, and I went down the aisles of the movie theater three times. The lady at the door still has your name in case you turn up looking for me."
And we sat and watched WEST WING. And Ron gave me my Christmas present.
And I realized that I left my phone in my car.
Once I left there and got back in my car, there was a message from McFall, which he left at 9 p.m.
It said, "You're probably begging your friend for forgiveness right now, but I was calling you ..."
And I called McFall back, and I got his voicemail. And I apologized for being a bastard but thanked him for letting me use his phone.
And, then, in the back of my head, I'm thinking, "New Year's kiss ..."
But I'm not allowed to think those things about McFall. Because, when I do, fate bites me on the ass.
So, of course, that was the exact moment that fate drew me into another random McFall encounter.
Have I mentioned McFall before? Oh yeah, I mentioned him here.
McFall is a guy I met four-and-a-half years ago at Phipps Plaza. He was attending a screening of "Queer as Folk" (the British one) that was in the middle of an intermission, and I was there browsing in a store when I ran into him.
And we flirted. And flirted. And flirted.
So, a couple days later, I called him, and we were going to go out. But, um, we never did. He was 19, I think, and flighty and in school and on the go. And I was 24, worked for CNN and went to bed at 9 p.m. because my work schedule was freakin' bizarre.
Then I got caught up in that whole Ejay romantic debacle, and I lost my job. And I had to move home to my mom's house. And all that stuff.
Basically, McFall, at the time, was a lost cause.
Fast-forward into 2001, and my co-worker Jamie and I are having lunch at Perimeter Mall. I turn around on the escalator down to the food court, and standing right behind me is McFall.
"He-e-ey," I said to him. "How are you?"
He told me he was fine. And he told me that he was glad I had noticed him because he'd been following me since Rich's to try and make sure that it was me. He'd followed me across half the freakin' mall.
So he buys me lunch, talks to Jamie, flirts with me, flirts with me, flirts with me ... and then drops the shocking bombshell that - uh - he has a boyfriend.
I was confused. Jamie, who'd been sitting there the whole time, was confused. Everyone, except McFall, was in a state of basic confusion.
"Did it seem like he was flirting with me to you?" I asked Jamie later that afternoon.
"Uh, YEAH," she said. "I couldn't believe he had a boyfriend."
So, as soon as I get to my office, I call McFall's cell phone, and he answers it.
So I ask him point-blank if he was flirting with me, telling him that I kept getting a vibe.
He admitted the vibe was there, admitted that he had a boyfriend and then told me that the three of us ought to meet sometime.
So my wires weren't crossed.
So thus begins the "McFall and I play phone tag for a year before I realize I'm calling him more than he's calling me, and that makes me feel creepy so I stop calling him" phase of our relationship.
So, around 2002, McFall changes jobs from some computer company to the Apple Store and had begun the second of many breakups with the boyfriend, and he lets me know that he works there. So I stop by.
And it's, like, crickets-chirping awkwardness between us. He's not in flirt mode. He doesn't want me there. I'm there too long. He's working and distant.
Bad vibe all around.
So I lose touch with McFall, and all's well that ends well, right?
Until earlier this year when I run into him at a grocery store when he and his friend stand right behind me in line, and he kinda flirts with me - but now he's really done with the boyfriend. He's there shopping with a friend.
So the friend goes to get the car, and McFall and I flirt for a bit. And I give him my phone number, even though I make a point of saying that he NEVER calls me when I give him my phone number.
And, in the moment before his friend drives the car around, I said to McFall, "You know, I never even kissed you."
McFall tells me not to because it'd be awkward and his friend is coming with the car, and the friend pulls up.
And I call McFall, but he doesn't call me.
Then, about four months ago, I walk into Best Buy, and McFall's there, working in the computer department. And I pick up my DVDs, and I talk to him for a moment. I make a conscious effort not to stay too long or talk to him too much.
And he's there at Best Buy when I go shop, but I don't shop there any more than I would otherwise.
I'm thinking that the H.M.S. McFall is a ship that's passed me by, you know, and all that it will be is all that it is. And it annoys me. McFall, whom I am attracted to and have never not been attracted to, is just this guy I run into occasionally, and, much as I'm happy to see him when we run into each other, it doesn't lead to anything. And that's annoying.
So then, last night, I'm an hour-and-a-half late for the screening, and McFall is standing outside the theater, holding his cell phone.
And McFall sees me and smiles. His whole face gets bright.
And I spit out a "Hi" and rush past him into the theater.
I get to the screening, show them the pass into it (because I had it and Ron didn't) and rush into it.
It's packed, and I go up and down the aisles twice.
And, I'm thinking, Ron would call to me if he were here. Ron would be looking for me if he were here.
And I don't have my phone on me, and Ron's cell number is from Massachusetts - and I have it saved so I don't have to remember it.
So I leave the screening, leave my name with the ticket-taker lady and go ask the usher if they have a pay phone.
He says they don't. And I ask if I can use their regular phone, and they say they don't let customers do that - because very few of their phone lines aren't internal and go out of the building. And he says Apres Diem, the restaurant next door, "used to have a pay phone but doesn't now."
And I spit out, "That's great, thank you ..." like a bastard, and I head out of there.
And I'm thinking Ron's mad at me. And he's thinking I stood him up. And he's probably thinking that I'm somehow mad at him since I've been moody around him lately. So it's more important to get to Ron. Beyond that, it's important to check my messages to see what he said when he surely tried to call me.
So I go past McFall, and he asks me if everything's OK. And I tell him no, saying that traffic was terrible and it put me in a bad mood and that the person I was supposed to meet probably left the theater.
And I start to walk away, then I turn around and ask him curtly if I can use his phone.
He says yes.
But McFall's got this newfangled cell phone with a keyboard, and it takes two phone calls before I'm able to check my messages. And one message is from Ron telling me to call him tomorrow to explain what happened, that he's left the movie because he didn't have the pass.
The other message on my cell phone, incidentally, was a recording of me and McFall trying to figure out if the phone was letting me check my messages.
McFall was there for the same screening. Someone invited him who didn't show up, so I tell him that traffic was terrible.
And he's moving back and forth, and he's pointing out cute guys to me.
He apologizes for the constant moving, saying he was cold, and he apologizes for the pointing but then he told me that he's single and always looking.
And the people he was supposed to be with didn't show up.
And he says that he's not waiting on a date, and he asked me if I was waiting on a date. And I told him no, that Ron has a husband and is just a friend.
And I looked like a mess in all likelihood.
But I say to him, "Look at me."
But McFall keeps swaying back and forth.
And I say, "Look at me."
I must've looked just awful, and I don't even know about my breath.But I did this anyway.
In front of the Landmark movie theater, in between the two brick columns, in the freezing cold weather, while we were supposed to be with other people, five minutes after the movie we were supposed to see had started and over four years after I first asked him out on a date, I kiss McFall. And he kisses me back. But only for a moment.
"That's why you wanted me to look at you," he says.
"I was going to make it one of those spontaneous moments," I say, "But you wouldn't stop moving."
"Well, I'm cold," McFall says.
So we talk a couple minutes more, but I tell him that I've got to get to my phone, get to Ron and fix this whole mistake.
"I'm going home," I said to him.
"Well, I can't go there," he said.
"No, you can't," I said.
And he raises an eyebrow and asked, "Why can't I?"
Because I've got to get to my phone, and I'm going to drive to Ron's and try and catch him there.
And McFall says he'll wait on his friends there five more minutes.
So McFall gets my phone number, even though I try to flatly refuse giving it to him because the man does not call me.
And he asks me for it again because he says he's got his phone right there and will save it.
And I'm, like, "Dude, you don't call me. I gave you my phone number four years ago."
But then I give him my phone number because I like McFall.
"And I said, if they don't show up, I'll be in the area," I said, "CALL ME."
"OK," he said, smiling.
"I mean, CALL ME TODAY," I said.
And then I left and went home and got my phone and tried to call Ron and didn't get him on the phone.
So I headed to his house. And I apologized and explained. And he berated me for not having my phone on me, calling it irresponsible.
And I said, "I had to kiss a guy just to check my messages, and I went down the aisles of the movie theater three times. The lady at the door still has your name in case you turn up looking for me."
And we sat and watched WEST WING. And Ron gave me my Christmas present.
And I realized that I left my phone in my car.
Once I left there and got back in my car, there was a message from McFall, which he left at 9 p.m.
It said, "You're probably begging your friend for forgiveness right now, but I was calling you ..."
And I called McFall back, and I got his voicemail. And I apologized for being a bastard but thanked him for letting me use his phone.
And, then, in the back of my head, I'm thinking, "New Year's kiss ..."
But I'm not allowed to think those things about McFall. Because, when I do, fate bites me on the ass.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Weekend redux.
* OCEAN'S TWELVE isn't really worth your time, even though the people in it, particularly Brad Pitt, look really pretty.
* Bargain week at my bookstore is dangerous to my bank account, especially when I've cut up my American Express card. But I should be OK.
* SANDMAN is an absolutely great comic book.
* I'm a writer who doesn't write. When I do write a story, it should be about a writer who doesn't write.
* The OK Cafe is a really, really good restaurant, and Susan and Richard, whom I saw there this weekend before sending them a thank-you card today, are very nice people. I mean, one of the appetizers there is a deep-fried, finger-food serving of jalapeno cheese grits. The restaurant has cheese grits you can hold in your hand. Complete ecstacy.
* Poli Sci Guy is going to finish writing his book before me and told me so.
* This website is hilarious. Check the review of SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS.
* The Atlanta Police shut down NAKED BOYS SINGING! at the Armory this weekend, saying that the place didn't have a permit for adult entertainment. The owners say it's just a play featuring nudity, that it's not pornographic. The whole thing upset my friend Larry. He wants us all to march upon City Hall and bomb churches and stuff. The situation bugs me, but I'm not going to kill anyone over it.
* Bargain week at my bookstore is dangerous to my bank account, especially when I've cut up my American Express card. But I should be OK.
* SANDMAN is an absolutely great comic book.
* I'm a writer who doesn't write. When I do write a story, it should be about a writer who doesn't write.
* The OK Cafe is a really, really good restaurant, and Susan and Richard, whom I saw there this weekend before sending them a thank-you card today, are very nice people. I mean, one of the appetizers there is a deep-fried, finger-food serving of jalapeno cheese grits. The restaurant has cheese grits you can hold in your hand. Complete ecstacy.
* Poli Sci Guy is going to finish writing his book before me and told me so.
* This website is hilarious. Check the review of SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS.
* The Atlanta Police shut down NAKED BOYS SINGING! at the Armory this weekend, saying that the place didn't have a permit for adult entertainment. The owners say it's just a play featuring nudity, that it's not pornographic. The whole thing upset my friend Larry. He wants us all to march upon City Hall and bomb churches and stuff. The situation bugs me, but I'm not going to kill anyone over it.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
The tip.
Remember that couple I mentioned last week? The one that bought SPORTS NIGHT based entirely upon my recommendation? The one I met the same night that customer Rebecca invited me to the Vogue party?
Well, apparently I was on a roll that night.
Yesterday, when I got to the bookstore, Music Manager Matt gave me a letter sent to the store but written to "ATTN: BENJAMIN IN MUSIC." It was from the Liberty House Restaurant Corporation, which I'd not heard of.
Music Manager Matt said to me, "Polly was working this morning, and it just killed her that this was sitting around, and she wasn't able to open it. So please open it."
I opened it, took out the letter and a little, yellow folder with a gift card inside of it.
The letter said:
Dear Benjamin,
Thank you for imparting so much information during our visit this weekend. We've already watched one episode of SPORTS NIGHT and see why you like it so much.
Barnes & Noble is lucky to have you working there. It's people like you who make a chain feel like a neighborhood store and make people like us feel at home.
Enclosed is a gift card from one of our restaurants, The OK Cafe. You might want to use it after one of your movie-watching Sundays. We hope it lives up to your discerning taste. (If it doesn't, please let us know.)
See you again soon.
Sincerely,
Susan DeRose & Richard Lewis
So I opened the little, yellow folder, and the gift card for "BENJAMIN IN MUSIC SALES @ BARNES & NOBLE" was for $100.
Before getting to the bookstore yesterday, I'd been having a tedious day. Just another stuck-at-the-desk, unmotivated, ho-hum, not-great, not-bad days.
That letter, coming at that moment, really touched me. It was very, very flattering and generous. And it was completely unexpected and unnecessary and so nice of them. And I'm really glad they liked SPORTS NIGHT.
Music Manager Matt took the letter and put it on the store manager's desk so that she could see it. He was, I think, as excited as I was, for he kept showing all the managers in the store at the time the letter.
I love the bookstore, and I enjoy working there. I get enthusiastic about products I enjoy, and I don't even think of it, so much, as a job because I have a lot of fun there.
Yesterday was a high point, and I just wanted to share it.
Well, apparently I was on a roll that night.
Yesterday, when I got to the bookstore, Music Manager Matt gave me a letter sent to the store but written to "ATTN: BENJAMIN IN MUSIC." It was from the Liberty House Restaurant Corporation, which I'd not heard of.
Music Manager Matt said to me, "Polly was working this morning, and it just killed her that this was sitting around, and she wasn't able to open it. So please open it."
I opened it, took out the letter and a little, yellow folder with a gift card inside of it.
The letter said:
Dear Benjamin,
Thank you for imparting so much information during our visit this weekend. We've already watched one episode of SPORTS NIGHT and see why you like it so much.
Barnes & Noble is lucky to have you working there. It's people like you who make a chain feel like a neighborhood store and make people like us feel at home.
Enclosed is a gift card from one of our restaurants, The OK Cafe. You might want to use it after one of your movie-watching Sundays. We hope it lives up to your discerning taste. (If it doesn't, please let us know.)
See you again soon.
Sincerely,
Susan DeRose & Richard Lewis
So I opened the little, yellow folder, and the gift card for "BENJAMIN IN MUSIC SALES @ BARNES & NOBLE" was for $100.
Before getting to the bookstore yesterday, I'd been having a tedious day. Just another stuck-at-the-desk, unmotivated, ho-hum, not-great, not-bad days.
That letter, coming at that moment, really touched me. It was very, very flattering and generous. And it was completely unexpected and unnecessary and so nice of them. And I'm really glad they liked SPORTS NIGHT.
Music Manager Matt took the letter and put it on the store manager's desk so that she could see it. He was, I think, as excited as I was, for he kept showing all the managers in the store at the time the letter.
I love the bookstore, and I enjoy working there. I get enthusiastic about products I enjoy, and I don't even think of it, so much, as a job because I have a lot of fun there.
Yesterday was a high point, and I just wanted to share it.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
What could make the needle jump the groove.
I brought my laptop into my office today in the hope that, at some point, I could get some documents e-mailed off of it so that I could modify them at my office. I don't know why I've not attempted to do this several times before or at a different location. I mean, really, all I need is a phone line.
But I know me. And I know that I'm bound to make things way more complicated than they actually are, to throw steps in my way rather than to climb the ones already there.
I'm probably even adding steps and difficulties just by writing this.
For the record, I know I do this. For the record, I know I shouldn't.
But words like "strategic planning" and "discipline" are words I try to avoid. Because I want to not conform, and those terms sound like the terms of conformity. (And saying that is a way of copping out, for getting discipline is not conformity so much as common sense. But it feels true.)
Layers upon layers of meaning. And all I'm doing is talking.
But I know me. And I know that I'm bound to make things way more complicated than they actually are, to throw steps in my way rather than to climb the ones already there.
I'm probably even adding steps and difficulties just by writing this.
For the record, I know I do this. For the record, I know I shouldn't.
But words like "strategic planning" and "discipline" are words I try to avoid. Because I want to not conform, and those terms sound like the terms of conformity. (And saying that is a way of copping out, for getting discipline is not conformity so much as common sense. But it feels true.)
Layers upon layers of meaning. And all I'm doing is talking.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Silver and gold decorations.
I'm at a tree-trimming party. Wes and Travis have a blue-and-silver theme going on their tree this year. I'm actually over at their house this time, and it looks like I'm not going to end up messing around with anyone. So that's festive.
Before coming here, I went to the Mall of Georgia Barnes & Noble and bought myself a copy of the latest Magnetic Fields album, "I," which is really good. At first, I thought that the band, with its deep-voiced lead singer Stephen Merritt and quirky lyrics, would be an acquired taste. After all, Merritt plays ukelele.
But last night, when I went with Poli Sci Guy to see them in concert, the music was excellent, and the crowd sat silently and watched them for an hour and a half. It was a great show.
Afterward Poli Sci Guy and I waited at the backdoor to see if they would come out, but they were staying inside. (It was weird, for the only ones waiting on them at the door were me, Poli Sci Guy and this creepy, fat, old balding man who admitted to us that he was essentially stalking them.)
I spoke a little bit to the band's cellist, then I spoke a bit to their cute Australian opening act, a guy named Darren Hanlon. Then, because the creepy guy weirded me, I walked away, and Poli Sci Guy drove me home.
The tree-trimming party has now gathered around the Xbox, so I'm going to end this and watch the festivities.
At one point, earlier, I dropped a couple ornaments under the tree and had to crawl under the tree to get them. I think some other decorators found me entertaining at that angle, but I don't know what to think of that.
Before coming here, I went to the Mall of Georgia Barnes & Noble and bought myself a copy of the latest Magnetic Fields album, "I," which is really good. At first, I thought that the band, with its deep-voiced lead singer Stephen Merritt and quirky lyrics, would be an acquired taste. After all, Merritt plays ukelele.
But last night, when I went with Poli Sci Guy to see them in concert, the music was excellent, and the crowd sat silently and watched them for an hour and a half. It was a great show.
Afterward Poli Sci Guy and I waited at the backdoor to see if they would come out, but they were staying inside. (It was weird, for the only ones waiting on them at the door were me, Poli Sci Guy and this creepy, fat, old balding man who admitted to us that he was essentially stalking them.)
I spoke a little bit to the band's cellist, then I spoke a bit to their cute Australian opening act, a guy named Darren Hanlon. Then, because the creepy guy weirded me, I walked away, and Poli Sci Guy drove me home.
The tree-trimming party has now gathered around the Xbox, so I'm going to end this and watch the festivities.
At one point, earlier, I dropped a couple ornaments under the tree and had to crawl under the tree to get them. I think some other decorators found me entertaining at that angle, but I don't know what to think of that.
How did I end up here, exactly?
At various points during my workday, I browse the Web instead of doing what I should be doing.
For some reason, one of the windows open on my desktop all day has been this page, and I can't for the life of me recall why I was looking this up.
For some reason, one of the windows open on my desktop all day has been this page, and I can't for the life of me recall why I was looking this up.
And he bakes ...
CJ and Solenn held an event at their house on Sunday they called "Pie-Pie." The two of them are competing to see which of them can make the best dessert every Sunday this month.
Anyone invited can also bring something, and I brought my seven-layer cookies, which were named "Best Dessert" at the party.
They're actually squares, not cookies, but whatever.
SEVEN-LAYER COOKIES
1 stick MELTED BUTTER/MARGARINE
2 cups GRAHAM CRACKER CRUMBS
4 tablespoons SUGAR
1 small bag BUTTERSCOTCH BITS
1 small bag SEMISWEET CHOCOLATE BITS
1 cup crushed WALNUTS
1 cup COCONUT
1 can SWEETENED CONDENSED MILK
Layer all ingredients evenly into a cake pan, usually about 13x9. I found that you may want to assure that the melted butter properly greases the edge of the pan as well as the bottom so that the pan doesn't singe on the edges.
First the butter, then the graham cracker crumbs - spread evenly like pie crust. Then the sugar spread evenly. Then the butterscotch and chocolate and so on and so forth until you have the distinct layers spread out, looking like a tray of brownies.
The condensed milk is the key ingredient. Make sure it's covering a significant portion of the top, for it allows the rest of the ingredients to, I guess, "candy."
Bake at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes, checking routinely.
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