St. Louis

Back in the homeland, and I am a lot warmer than I thought I would be. Seeing my dad and stepmom, I was certainly more teary and sentimental than I thought I would be, but then again, I haven't been home for Christmas in a while, and I haven't truly seen what they have done to the house; everything's different, wonderful, and the same all at the same time. It's quite a weird feeling.

It's weird to see my old streets with new buildings. There are houses that are gone, some that are different, and some new (very ugly) ones. Maybe the economy around here is getting better? It certainly seems that way, at least for Dad and Laurie. The only constant is change.

We drove around last night after the airport looking for some food. Dad wanted to take me somewhere that was very St. Louis, so I suggested Steak and Shake. We all agreed and we proceeded to pass 3 of them, all closed for Christmas Day. The 'Open 24 Hours' sign must just mean not all in a row. Needless to say, we just came home and had some pasta, and then had Christmas. After a cookie or two.

Due to airline policy (or rumor, I can't remember which), I didn't wrap my presents, so I took pieces of paper towel and put them around the most telltale signs, and then bravely said "I wonder what it could be!" with a picture of Calvin and Hobbes sticking out the top. It was fun fun. They loved the martini mix that I gave them, moreso than I thought they would - we had martinis as soon as it was opened. I love chocolate martinis now. I love martinis. And shaking them. Yum.

I recieved some money and an action figure and the new DVD of Casablanca. All terrific gifts! The big gift, however was an iPhone. Yes, you heard me. I am incredibly excited and not quite sure what to do with it. It is a lot smaller than I thought it would be.. and I can't really play with it until I set it up... but I did press some buttons and almost accidentally make an emergency call. Hot shit! That would be funny if the first thing I did was bring the fire department to the house. Today we're going to the mall and being consumers as well as going to have a one on one session with the Apple Store people so I can ask a few questions. I don't want them to give me too many tricks, I feel like I want to learn this stuff myself. The discovery is more fun!

Then later tonight my grandma Knoll is coming to visit and we're having a birthday dinner for my dad. Then tomorrow I think I'm visiting my grandma Scheppner. Sometime I need to cram in a visit with Nick and Ashley and maybe Beth, she just emailed me. Now I'm thinking 4 days is a little short to see all my loved ones. Good thing I'm coming back in April. St. Louis is beautiful in April.

Other news... I've been writing more and more of my review of Sweeney Todd. It's strange, I'm gushing so much about it, I have to go back and edit all the fanboy stuff, if I ever want to use the article as a sample of work. I suppose a true passion for the theatre is good to see though.

Oop, family home, gotta go!

Hollyday

Had an amazing day yesterday.

What started infused with a slight assholery on my part at the knowledge of a friend of a friend being cast at 42nd Street Moon soon was washed away by the sights and sounds and fun of Dickens Faire with my loved ones. ("I'm sorry I was grumpy and being a stupid actor." "You aren't stupid, you're allowed to be disappointed." I'm so incredibly lucky to have these amazing people in my life.)

This time, since I was dressed vaguely like an actual fairegoer, I was in the spirit of the celebration a lot more than I was last time. I had a blast then too, but this was simply more joyful. Maybe it was the upcoming holiday coming up. (Yes, I'm even excited about going to St. Louis. That excitement will probably vanish the second I step into the cold...) Certainly more in the spirit than most of the actual faire workers there yesterday; it definetly had a "last day" feel to the whole celebration.

Of course I ate a bit too much, and now that I type this, I realize that my Chai Truffle is probably melting in Monica's pocket in her jacket in her closet at her house, so let's hope for a Christmas Miracle to occur so that can be saved. That was a damn good truffle. Lets hope it still exists in more than a puddle form.

After a short reprieve, we went to see Sweeney Todd. I think I enjoyed it a lot more than my companions. I enjoyed it. So much. It blew me away. I didn't think I would like it or trying to plan when I could see it again; here I am. There was plenty wrong with it, (of course, it was Tim Burton. The man who brought us "reimaginings" also known as "fuck ups") but what was right was sooo right. I'm going to see it again soon.

Tonight! We are going to casa de Joan and Lauren (and Violet, now..) to have a delicious Christmas Eve Dinner. Yum. And opening presents at casa de Mom and Tim (Tin) beforehand. It should be an excellent evening/afternoon/whenever!

Tomorrow! I fly to St. Louis at 3. Boo to that. Well, to flying. It will be nice to see Dad and Laurie. It's been a bit, and I miss my pootch. Also I think my big present is an iPhone. It is now the time where I need to realize that it might not have happened. So no big. My contingency plan is to just get a calendar for 2008, so I can actually keep a good schedule and not be my loosey goosey self that I have been. I almost wish that I asked for a laptop now that I'm thinking of my travels coming up.

But then when do I want for a laptop? When I travel. When has that been? Not really recently, come to think of it. So shhh shshshshshs Ben. SHH I say.

Once I am Sober, I'm sure I'll find the video

Freshly back from Drew's show at Yet Wah tonight, and man was it fun! He is an incredible performer... I guess sometimes this journal becomes the gush about Drew hour; what can I say, he's a good friend and an incredible talent. I also had a lot to drink, so that might have helped things along. Plus, it was only an hour and a half! Short and incredibly sweet! And he did "Eye 2 Eye" from A Goofy Movie, my favorite song! My favorite movie! Who does a cover of that? Honestly? It's amazing!

Going to Dicken's Faire tomorrow. It should be fun. I love that place. It doesn't hurt that I have a fetish for vests. I'm wearing mine tomorrow, and hope to find some ideas for more patterns. Oh. I think I just guessed what my Christmas present is from Monica. Just as I wrote "patterns." Oh well, there goes the surprise. It's a lovely gift though. And I will find time. As stated, this is the new way, and I'm improving my entire life, including my skills that I have let fall to the wayside.

Alright, slightly drunk post over. I just fell asleep while WRITING THIS.

night.

At least it's Friday

The past few days have been uneventful ones. More of a waiting game to hear from 42nd Street Moon, Calshakes, Carmel, CeneRep, etc. I'm not really holding out for them to pull out their checkbooks, but in this age of instant impersonal communication, I feel that it's easy enough for them to reject me through email, and I can easily slink away back into the darkness that is my ever worsening soul.

I have been on my regimen of exercising at least 30 minutes a day. DDR has been helping, and every time I seem to traverse into the TurboJam world I knock something over in my room, so I stopped doing that; my computer may be next. I feel great! It's been helping me sleep, and the motivation has been there to help me eat a little better. (Not tremendously better, but baby steps are the way to go when it comes to Ben and Food.)

Worth mentioning (since this is really a journal): Russ came over to do his usual flip his mug in my face (being a mild ass that he is), lost control, and it smashed into my full coffee mug, breaking it into 5 pieces and spilling my coffee/hot chocolate combo everywhere. His mug was uscathed. And now you know!

Movies for this weekend:
Sweeney Todd


and National Treasure: Book of Secrets

Prolific Posting

I just finished reading all the archives of Neil Gaiman's Journal. He's an inspiring man. Here's what I wrote to him when I finished:

There.

I've finished reading your entire blog archive. No no, you don't need to send me gifts and congratulatory rice pudding. Your words and stories and unique views are presents enough. I just wanted to say that you (and your sometime contributors) have created a joyful phenomenon. It has given me great pleasure to be included in your life via this outlet. I look forward to the years of stories and journal to come.

Thank you (and Lorraine and Holly and Maddy and Elf (retired) and Goblin (forgive me if I miss a few)) for being such an amazingly wonderful and influencial force in my, and obviously so many others, lives.

Continue making wonderful art!

So. Er, how's the book going?

Best,
Ben

Of course, my shameless plug here (my reviews of shows):
thetheatrereview.blogspot.com
and here (my slightly more ranty journal):
maskedcongressman.blogspot.com

Feel free to check or ignore or post.

Not bad. I hope he reads it and enjoys it. He really is an amazing author.

---

This morning, I have decided, is my last morning of the week where I fuck around on the internet. We're moving the front office around, and this afternoon is the start of the Official Moving Shit Week. So, woohoo?

Yum.

www.freerice.com

is awesome.

1000 grains so far. If I do it all day, I will a) help save the world and b) help save my sanity.

Win win.

---

I have to go to Cost Plus tonight to get some presents for my fellow Front Office people. They're too good to get them some silly Hello Kitty dolls from Target, I now realize. I gotta say, it's an incredible thing to know that the people I work with are supportive, nice, and not (too) weird. Honestly, I think it's more chill than before up here.

Oh, on work related note. Something I should record for posterity: Michaele introduced me as "Ted" to her husband at the Christmas Party on Friday. I'm not sure how to take it.

---

Worked on my monologues last night with my mom. She should be a teacher, her suggestions were amazing and had an immediate effect on my performance. It's also a wonderful thing when you bring out a monologue that you haven't done in a while, dust it off slightly and plug it in, realizing that it actually still works. And it works better than you thought. Better than the last time you turned it on.

That's one of the joys about theatre - everything gets better as it ages.

I have not been taken over by a pen pal.. (Also Jean)

I just found this button up here, and am now प्लायिंग विथ आईटी. (Playing with it.) I have no idea the use of having hindi characters appear on my blog, but damn don't they look good? I hope to get into an awkward situation where I type something like... इ लिके पंदास. But instead of "I like pandas" it means some really raunchy come on and I have to talk my way out of a marriage proposal across the globe. Again.

---

I gave Jean her delicious XMas present. She loved it! She's so very English, so all the old English candies made her happy.

Jean is one of my very best friends here; she is always in a good mood and she makes the bland days go by much more quickly with her quirks and simple spectacularness. I am not even sure how we met when I first came here, but we became fast friends... maybe because like most folks here, she saw someone who was competent at the front office. Or maybe she just liked me for me, I know I like Jean for Jean. Anyway.

She's leaving January 17th, and probably moving to Oregon. So not only will she be gone from SWA, she won't be readily available for me to bug her with an email and a dinner offer. I say awesome for her (she's retiring, really - and I think that's great!), but every time I think about it I get a little teary. She's really the one person I've become incredibly good friends with around here - she will be truly missed.

Large Font and Cheating

Cheated a little last night (pizza), but did get a DDR workout in - that wore me out and energized me at the same time. Not quite sure how that works... but it helped me sleep last night, and I woke up at a reasonable time to not be a hellish demon this morning that wishes for the bliss of eternal night to wash over my shriveled and darkened soul. Exercise really works. Tonight I'll do another DDR workout and maybe add some weight lifting. I likes! I really do! And this granola bar doesn't taste like ass! I actually like eating healthy! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?

Other news: My moustache is uneven. I really should report on that more often; I'm sure we'll have a picture later in the day, and analysts coming in to look at the differences between my moustache and proper moustache etiquette. At least I have huge chops and a goatee to bring it all together.

But still. Awkward.

I can't believe I never went to Cost Plus in my year here. Now that I think on it, I know we have a World Market in St. Louis, but for some reason, this store here is more resonant, more beautiful and enlightening. I want to go there nearly every day to pick up a trinket for someone, and I know that they will like it, because goddamn it, it's motherfucking Cost Plus. Plus, there's a BevMo right next door, so detours abound.

(Wow, the thing about being active and getting restful sleep and then having a cup of coffee in the morning really makes me hyper can you tell? i mean i didn't even think i'm hyper but people say that i am and for some reason that makes me feel self consious and then i get gassy but then i hold that in and it makes my tummy blurble and then i need to go to the bathroom... wowoahahglksdhaproiagouh!!!!1~)

~Peeks head up~

So anyway. Yesterday morning we had no internet here, which was quite lovely. I actually got another few pages done on my I-don't-know-what-this-is script, and started a new story - one of which I have no idea of direction. But that's the fun of it.

The great motivator for writing (for me, at least), is not really having anything to do. Not that I really have much to do here, but the whole internet thing keeps me from working on anything substantial. Yesterday, all I had to do was look out the window, and after 10 minutes of that, writing looked very appealing. So I'm happy. Especially reading it this morning and actually liking what I wrote yesterday.

Hm, what else. Oh! I'm excited about going back to the Great Dicken's Fair(e?) this Sunday. I'm going to pick up a present for my pal Nick (probably a blank sketchbook) and I will dress in my Dickensian finery. And then rum! And dancing! And sitting down! Then food! And sitting down! And dancing! I love that place. I was immediately enamored last time I went... maybe this time I'll actually get some pictures.

Also, Tuna Christmas review here.

Future

Not a horrible lunch and a 20 minute walk. DDR after work, then a shower, then wrapping presents. Then... something else. Random tasks to do after work today, but at least I'm getting caught up. I feel much better after taking a walk - it really energizes you. Exercise really is the miracle drug. That, and cocane. (Kidding, I don't really do cocane.)

---

The renovation starts next week, so we have to move everything from the front office to Somewhere Else. I'm still not quite sure where that that is, but I have some suggestions where they will appear:

1. Under people's desks.
2. On people's desks.
3. In the fridge.
4. Outside in the rain.
5. On fire.

A combination of those places will constitute Somewhere Else.

---

Still no word from 42nd Street Moon (Or CalShakes or Carmel for that matter). They're probably still reeling from my masterful performance. If not, it's their loss. I'm done with looking back and judging a past performance. I'll stay positive, and hopefully the universe will be positive with me.

(That being said, there will be a fair amount of cursing if things don't turn out the way I want them; I'm going to try and keep it to a minimum.)

Speaking of thinking ahead (we were?), I'm going to work on my monologues this week for Grad School auditions. I figure if I work on them once or twice a week like an hour at a time, I'll be tip top shape come February. I also am contacting my musical friends to see if they can help me work on my songs or have suggestions of their own. Armando probably has a ton of shit that he can recommend for me, while Drew is close by and can help me work on technique. Maybe if I offer some bucks, I can get a weekly class out of this... that's the only way to get better! Throw money at it! Woo(t)!

All in all though, I'm pretty confident as to my abilities at this point - my monologues are snazzy, my songs are almost spot on - a little more work and they'll be AMAZING. As opposed to just amazing. Which they are. amazing.

---

I made a dent in the packing here. Just a dent. It's amazing how much crap this place accumulates. I have no idea why we had 18 (yes, I counted them) catalogues from 2001. Almost everything's online now anyway, who needs these? And for the past year, no one has even touched them. I think times are changing, and these are going to be recycled. Booya. Just randomly picked up some old ink for stamps. Why was this by the mousetrap? No one will ever know.

At least I'm not bored.

Wait, I am.

---

Beautiful moody day today. When I get my iPhone I will take a picture of it and upload it directly to blogger. Or email it to myself and then put it on here. But until then, you'll just have to take my word for it that walking around the little lagoon in Sausalito under steel grey skies and slightly choppy water was simply enchanting.

Alright People (Pt. 2)

I called Paul today about the paid internship, he said it was already full. I had definetly waited too long, but I didn't think it was that long. I don't feel betrayed at him about this, even though he said he was "very interested"; completely my fault. What I do feel is disappointment in myself. But only briefly, and I realized that I really need to stop blaming everything on everyone else. Sure, there's tons of blame to go around (I mean, I'm hardly ever at fault, so it's not like I'm used to feeling disappointment), but I need to realize this and take control of my situations. No regrets, just realization: I should have called him the day I found out about the internship. I didn't. Now that's that.

(He is, however, keeping me in mind in case someone falls through. Neato.)

Alright folks. Here it is. This will not be just the whole "eating better/exercising woah holy shit I'm thin" journal. I'm trying to make myself a better person. I need to build my confidence in who I am and what my talents are, and providing myself with an outlet is a step towards the goal. Not only that, but it's an outlet that I can write in, which makes me more confident as a writer. I mean, that's cool! I have so much support in my life through my art and my relationships with friends - I am one lucky dude, and I need to know that. I am going to open up to this New Way and become a better person. So again, I'm asking the universe to help me. To keep me on track, to pick me up when I'm down, or kick me over when I'm too high. Everything in moderation, ego included. (As a fantastic actor, this is hard, but I'll somehow figure it out, bravely.)

---

So, walked for 20 minutes. Not bad, considering I had to drive to San Rafael and take a shower. I'll up the ante tomorrow, and hopefully get some Dance Dance Revolution action before or after my audition. Ah, yes, that audition. CalShakes has their own company, so I'm not getting my hopes high, but that doesn't mean I won't come in and show them my stuff. Sometimes people don't need me, and sometimes they do. I just need to make myself available.

Alright People

Fuck waiting until after the holidays until I start the new way. I've been pretty good lately about watching what I eat and getting exercise, but this is the Official Announcement. I'm not going to eat a shitton this winter, and I'm going to stick with my walks every day. If I need a snack, it's not going to be cookies or anything like that.

This Announcement is also to say that I will cheat and am respectfully asking the world out there to help me. Not to help me feel guilty or anything of the sort, but help me and support me; if I am eating a cookie, revel in the fact that I'm eating a cookie, yet psychically send me a message, That cookie is the only one you eat.

There will be more to this, but now I'm keeping a log. This is it, December 14, 2007.

Now I'm off for a walk and a shower. (30 min.)

I've Done It

This is me figuring out how to post in the same blog on my other email address. It took me this long, refusing the help section of blogger.com, accepting the help of blogger, and now I'm actually doing it on another address so I don't have to switch back and forth. I can do it on my whimsy. Whimsy.

Oh Lady! Lady!! was quite fun! (I'll have a review up shortly.) I'm impressed with Michael, he's really improved since the yelling into a microphone days of Hair. Ah, those were some fun times. I also freaked out a bit because after the show someone said how much they liked my audition for Out of this World, but then couldn't remember my name. I think I read too much into it. Then again, if they wanted me, they probably would have called me by now.

Then I ruined the evening by being an asshole on the ride home by feeling way too sorry for myself. Then I started fighting! It was awesome. Wait, wait, what's the opposite of awesome? Ah right, horribly depressing. It was horribly depressing.

(We simply have different notions of theatre. Monica had some excellent advice about pooling all my resources and seeing inspiration where I can find it, and I had my own advice about how I'm excellent without any help and can do everything by myself. I saw her point, and will mostly use the advice... I still don't think I need to ask everyone for help.)

And now, a frog:



[Edit: Monica says, "You didn't ruin last night, and I'm still not quite sure that was a fight;
a tiff perhaps, or perhaps even a roe, but certainly not a fight." So there you have it.]

[Edit: A roe is a collection of fish eggs. A row is a quarrel. I like that word. Quarrel. And row, but quarrel is cool.]

I Fucking Hat Thursdays

Sometimes I try to cheer myself up when I've been having an amazingly boring/stupid/evil/average day by a phrase that my mom and I did one day when we were both having boring/stupid/evil/average days: "At least it's Friday!" followed with "Oh wait..." For some unknown reason this amuses us to no end, and we've added more to it like, "At least we have great shows to work on" or "At least we have a radio." (the sharp witted people among you can guess what we're lacking now.)

My day hasn't been that bad, but it hasn't been terrific either. Some days, when they're bad (read: fight with Michaele that apparently people came downstairs after I left to gossip about) it speeds up the process, albeit leaving me with the rage of 10,000 suns flowing within my ever darkening soul. I suppose I should stop talking about my job all the time. There's only so much complaining to go around.

---

Monica and I are going to see Oh Lady! Lady!! tonight at 42nd Street Moon. Hopefully it won't be one of those awkward things where they know they haven't cast me and are still trying to be nice but haven't actually made the call yet so they don't really want to tell me right then and there and then my hopes are up because they're being nice but the reality of the thing is that they're just being nice because they're very uncomfortable. Let's hope.

I also hope it's a good show. My friend Michael Cassidy is in it, and while I am confident that he's a good actor, I've never see him do anything other than yell at people during Hair. (He is one of the few people to get mentioned in the review, after all. (For Hair, not for Oh Lady! Lady!!)) Monica and I are going to Fuzio's first, to use the gift certificates we recieved for doing High School Musical. I'm thinking that it will be a grand evening out, even if things get awkward in my head. Maybe it will become a sitcom where I try and impress them with my singing abilities in an offhanded way, telling them that my throat is so much more lubricated today, and then they think I'm coming on to them, and then we have an awkward time in a coatroom where I think I'm with Monica, when in actuality it's the casting director from 42nd Street Moon. Awkward!

---

33 more minutes. In that time I'm going to catch up on my reading and double check my audition coming up this weekend for CalShakes. Here are the monologues I'll be doing (mostly written here so I can see if I have them memorized:

Edmund from King Lear

Thou, nature, art my goddess, to thy law
My services are bound. Wherefore must I
Stand in the plague of custom and permit
The curiosity of nations to deprive me
For that I am some twelve to fourteen moonshines
Lag of a brother? Why bastard? Wherefore base?
When my dimensions are as well compact,
My mind as generous, and my shape as true
As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
With base? Baseness? Bastardy? Well then,
Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land:
Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund,
As for the legitimate. Fine word, legitimate!
Well my legitimate, if this letter speed,
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper:
Now, gods, stand up for bastards!

And Algernon from The Importance of Being Earnest

And why should your aunt call you her uncle? It says here, "From Little Cecily, with her fondest love, to her dear Uncle Jack." Now, there is no objection, I admit, to an aunt being a small aunt, but why an aunt, no matter what her size may be, should ever call her own nephew her uncle, I can't quite make out! Besides, your name isn't Jack at all; it's Ernest.

You have always told me it was Ernest. You answer to the name of Ernest. I've introduced you to people as Ernest. You look as if you're name was Ernest - you are the most Ernest looking person I've ever seen in my life! It's perfectly absurd to say that your name isn't Ernest it's... on your cards. Here is one of them: "Mr. Ernest Worthing, B4, The Albany." I'm going to keep this, as proof that your name is Ernest if ever you try to deny it to me, or to Gwendolyn, or to Anyone Else.

(I'll do that last one with a British accent. Yeah, I know, but it's just not right without one. Go ahead, try it without one, I'll wait.)

---

10 minutes now! That ate up some time. Guess it's time to do the ol' lables.

(This Title Was Eaten By Blogger.)

People have been giving me the start of a number of tasks this morning, and then never following up on my questions or what else I am supposed to do. I don't press the issue. And then Jean just came up to give me cookies. They're the same ones from the party on Friday, and they're still incredibly delicious (especially, following a suggestion from Monica, when microwaved). Jean just asked me what I was doing. I said I was writing a blog entry. She said that she despises that word and, "Why isn't just a journal or a diary or a log for God's sakes? Blog sounds like something a dog would spit up."

I love Jean, she's English.

I also just told her that I wrote what she just said. ("Oh, don't write that, well if you do, say I'm wonderful too.") She's wonderful.

---

Found a good present for [hidden] today. It's an amazing device that will bring [him/her] much joy! I mean it totally [hidden] [deleted] to a [mystery] AND you can [hidden hide hiddenmajigger], and it comes with all that attached. I'm such a good santa claus. Or elf. I'd much rather be an elf, then I can use a bow and arrow very well.

Such is the day of small posts. Here's another link.

Quick One

"Art is dangerous sometimes."

Thank you for asking, my audition went well. My songs were a little bootched, but I read very well, and they seemed very happy with what I was doing. We'll see what happens. At the very least, I did show that I was out there and could sing (well, kinda.) and act.

Spy Work

Typing this at work is always a challenge, especially later in the day when people start randomly walking around my desk. I guess it truly is a hotbed of information. Either that, or their charmed by my asshole wittiness. But as of now, I have minimized this window twice to make sure I am not spied upon whilst blogging. It's frowned upon, you know.

So Crazy, Just Like Me is over. I truly thought it would be a bad show. The last week of tech was grueling, and people were getting sick constantly (myself included); negative energy abounded. And then I was completely blown over by the production. Everyone came together, and the cliche in this case was true, we brought it all together in the end, and the show was an amazing success! I actually was sad that it was over. Believe me, that's very rare for me. Drew is a fantastic songwriter and has a truly great talent that he has put to good use. I am supremely lucky to call him a friend. I am also very lucky to have made some new friends, and to get to know some of my old ones a little bit better. This has been an amazing experience.

(3 times minimized)

Tonight is my audition for 42nd Street Moon. I have been (imaginary) blacklisted from them for about a year now - I'm happy to have the audition, but don't know how it will go. My true hope is to see Kaylon and hope that he's the one casting Coco and Out of this World (both, incidentally, sound like fucking fantastic shows). I will be singing "Comedy Tonight" and "Married," even though neither of the songs really fits my age range, they are from the Golden Age of Broadway, and that's what they need there. Hurray?

I, of course, have been stressing out about the audition pretty much all day. I have been practicing the intro for "Married," and have somehow tricked myself into not being able to find the right note. I know the note, that's not the point. I know it will also go well today, it's just that I can't get it now. (But Ben, you've done it before, you performed the part back in college. Yeah, well, I'm nervous. You don't get nervous?) I'm sure it will be fantastic. I'm sure of it. I could use some more support though... ahh well, at least it will be over quickly. They did cast me before, after all.

(6 times minimized. Oh how I wish I could just write and not be scared.)

Officially Applied For ACT. That's a load off my shoulders. 2 more to go, I think. Or maybe more, but I am simply happy to have those three done, and those are my personal top three. Well, ACT's more like a 10, but everyone loves their program, so who am I to judge? I'm just glad I'm at a point in my life where application fees (a stupid evil) are well within my budget. I happily can write checks now! There is something that SWA does well; I feel very secure.

Hopefully, tomorrow evening I'll go see The Golden Compass. I'm probably way too excited about this movie, considering it got medocre reviews and is a little blander than the book, but it's one of those hopes that I have that it will be a sleeper movie and make a huge comeback after I review it. I'm that important.

27 minutes left. Then 4 more days in the week. And I still have an audition to go to. Gr...

New Computer

And can you believe it, my first complaint is that I can't read Neil Gaiman's blog anymore. That's really my only complaint, but believe me, it's a big one. That blog has been getting me through incredibly boring, stupid, unrelenting situations and people. It has also inspired me to write more, and maybe one day I will get to have sushi pillows and a big scruffy head of hair and an Addams Family house with 15 acres of land in Minnesota.

Well, maybe not Minnesota.

Other than no journal though, this computer is pimp. It still is 2 or so years behind "new" computers, and like a billion years behind Mac, but hell, it'll make my massive web page surfing days go much smoother, especially since the minimize function works like a dream...

See there? I just did it. Purrs like a kitten. And other similies.

And with all the commotion here this morning, I (yet again) can't believe that it's only just a little past 11. It makes no sense to me, like there's some sort of temporal flux in the front office area that no other people in the back experience. Constantly people come up and say things such as, "I can't believe it's already 11/2/4:30! WOW! I HAVE NO LIFE!!!1one"

--

Doing my bidaily walk through Best Buy, I encountered The Office: The Complete First Series. On the plastic wrap it claimed: "As seen on BBC America and BBC Canada!" And I thought, "But not the BBC?" It was just a conspiracy, there really is no UK, all the television there is made on sound stages next to the lunar landing and people are pretending for our BBC America/Canada! There is no BBC!

It was funnier in my head, I guess.

Also, I want that DVD set.

---

Last night was opening for CJLM, and it went Swimmingly. I couldn't believe (at first) how much reaction we recieved from the audience, but then I realized that Drew has made lots of connections in his life in the Bay Area, and these were all very supportive people. It wasn't a terrific show last night, but they were able to look beyond the faults and support the art that he created. That's fine with me. I just know I'll actually move the set when I need to tonight. Sorry about that, Erica (and Keith, Kasie, Drew...). And as the show progresses, it will evolve and become even better. Hell, by next week it will be perfect! (Haha, get it? I'm hilarious.)

---

Monica's coming here for lunch because she's off early today from work. It's a long, stupid story, but it's ending with her renewing her efforts to find a job (in her field, that she likes, that isn't full of goddamn narks). Anyway, good for me because she'll be here at 1. And lunch! But more good to see her. (although I like lunch too.)

---

And through three hyphens strung together I am now about an hour later and much work has been done around here. Kicking and screaming, I actually do something at the office other than blog and read wired.

Speaking of wired, I read that the smartcar was already sold out, and of course, was unhappy. But then I saw this and this and was much happier. And I'm still going to put a deposit down. It's the only car I've ever really wanted. Gotta mean something, right?

New Goal/Obsession

I guess I don't need to compensate.

It appeals to me. I want to take a cross country trip with it. I want to do things to it that no man should say. Well, maybe I'm not that obsessed. When I get a new car, that will be the one. I might even be able to buy it outright, to truly start my life on a good note, student loans aside.

Hm, I guess if I live in New York, I really shouldn't get it. Here's to hoping I get into ACT or UCSD or UNLV then.

Long day. I can't believe it's not even 3.30 yet. I've even been dorkishly trying to will the clock to go faster, hoping that I will be an American version of Hiro. Come on super powers! Hell, I'd just be happy for the power to skip boring stretches of my life and go to the good stuff. What would that make me? The TiVonator I suppose.

Hm, now the front office has just become the place to be to chat about shit, and I need to constantly minimize the window. Hasn't anyone ever heard of letting someone blog when they're not supposed to? I mean, please. Come on. Seriously.

And now someone is creepily staring at me. Gotta go.

Cross posted and emailed

Bleh, I'll be glad when this week's over, I'm feeling all shitty again. Maybe I'm allergic to something here.

Lots of people here think they're incredibly funny by saying, "Ben, are you still sick?" and then jumping backwards as if I would drool or pee or bleed on them to infect them with my plague. They truly are the masters of comedy. I can't believe I didn't see it long ago how wonderful these people would be in a hilarious sitcom about the office. Maybe I should pitch that, and someone from the daily show could star. It would be a great show.

Like sometimes Russ likes to throw mints at people! Wow! How funny and off the cuff!

And sometimes John Wong can't be understood! It's because he has english as a second language. Hilarious!

And someone just came here and covered their mouth as if I was dying! So funny!

2 hours gone, 7 more to go. I'm counting lunch because I have to stay around this area. I sure as fuck hope mom can pick me up. Then again, I really hope she picks me up and all the news is good.

Cookies will be eaten soon. Oh so very soon. Like, now.

munch munch

A Sicky Day or How I Love My Life

Stayed home today, thanks to the cold. Of course, for most of the day, I felt fine, and my usual guilt of not going to work crept to the surface. I never know why my brain does that to me; I hate my job and loathe every minute of it, but every time I take time to myself it seems like I'm doing something wrong.

I hate it. I hate that that's what happened to me. It's the stupid American Ideal:

1. Work all the time and never have any free time.
2. ?
3. Profit!

I don't think it works like that. I suppose it's security over freedom. I'm secure in my job, and if I lose it, I would have a shit ton of time, but no money to do anything. Give and take? I hear that if you love the job you never work a day in your life. Until then, I need to keep saying it's only a means to an end. Someday I'll support myself fully with my art. I almost hope that they fire me or give me the means to leave so that I can push myself in that direction even more. Soon enough I'll be out of there, fired or no.

Other news: I feel shitty again, I thought I was all better... I love this cold! It's amazing!

More other news: I have the Midsummer callbacks tonight. Don't want to go. Don't know why I auditioned. Also, I have Drew's rehearsal tonight, and am testing out the dual location technique. Or just bust my ass and do both. Woo.

Here's my color headshot that I've been fucking with in photoshop.

Eds Double-oo Eh Groub, Dis is Bed

My code is wordsending. Ebreybody thinks I'm saying, "Dis is Bed," "Dis is Dan" or "Fug you."

Wonder where dey god dat frob.

New Week

Mr. Magorium's was awesome last night. (Shameless Plug.) What a great movie to end a mediocre weekend.

I'm glad you asked. Monica's cousin, Autumn was in this weekend, after being in almost the entirety of Thanksgiving break. Autumn is not a bad person, I just don't think we click, especially when sitting around the living room awkwardly trying to start conversations. That didn't work too well. But I don't think she minded. Then again, she might be used to it.

Accompanying Autumn was her dog, Darby. (Darbie?) She is a Chihuahua. She is a lot more mellow than the steriotypical dog her size, but she is still a handful. I felt like I was going to sit on her or step on her or breathe on her and she would fall down, dead. And then I'd have to explain to someone I don't really know how I killed her dog in the night while getting a glass of milk.

"So hey. I killed your dog looking for milk last night."

Huh, that was a lot easier than I thought. I knew I should have got that frosty cold glass!

I have also somehow contracted The Plague. I always thought that it had left the world a long time ago, but I have it, and it's not too nice. So if I die, let this be a general "Hello, thank you, good bye, I'd like a frosty cold glass of milk on my coffin," message to all of you.

Done.

That was simple. Fucked up a bit, but it worked pretty well. And after all, I really don't even want ot be in it anyway.

Addendum to wish list:

Headset for Skype usage. Hopefully that'll be my only landline soon.

Also Absolute Sandman 1 & 2, I totally forgot this was out.

And The Black Dossier.

And Eternals would be nice. But still I don't really want for much... so I'm not in a big hurry.

Huzzah!

Now to send this and the other to my parents.

Stinky

Went and had a delicious dinner at The Stinking Rose. It was quite yums, and now that I'm thinking about it, I think I left my leftovers in Monica's car, so therefore we no longer have good leftovers. I think I do that every single time.

(As I was typing this the sun just rose over the hills and made the room very warm and cozy. It also made me actually look at all the clothes piled on the bed. I'm not quite sure how that happens; I used to fit all the clothes in the closet, now they don't seem to live in there anymore, they just sort of spill out over everywhere.)

Played Boggle last night. I hate Boggle.

I also watched the Polar Express last night. I forgot how much I enjoyed that movie. It also made me want to get off my ass and go see Beowulf. Ah, what a privledged life we lead that going to see something that I know I'd enjoy is "getting off my ass." I guess that's what comes with selling your soul to a company, you can be lazy and still have the means to complain about doing something that you'd know you'd enjoy.

I have two auditions today, one for Midsummer Night's Dream, and the other for season auditions for PCPA, whatever that stands for. Oh, I guess it stands for this.

And just because I don't want to get up and work out, here's a picture of me:

And a movie of stuff for Crazy, Just Like Me:

Shit I would mildly like to have because I have no wants this holiday season (well, okay, I do want a few):

iPhone or other multimedia phone: http://www.apple.com/ and elsewheres… verizon has a good package too, but iPhone is on the top of my list. http://www.wired.com/ has good reviews of phones.

The complete Bone collection: http://www.amazon.com/Bone-One-Jeff-Smith/dp/188896314X/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1196358685&sr=8-1

Johnathan Strange & Mr. Norell by Susanna Clarke (and/or other novels by her, she’s good): http://www.amazon.com/Jonathan-Strange-Mr-Norrell-Novel/dp/B000ENWIJO/ref=pd_bbs_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1196358805&sr=1-1

Any of the UK (but would gladly accept US editions, the bigger paperback versions) editions of Neil Gaiman’s work, the first 7 are the ones with the covers I enjoy: http://amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_ss_w_h_/203-7359482-1146338?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Neil+Gaiman

An XBox360 with Mass Effect (it’s a game) and Rock Band (that’s a game too).

A class or two bought at Voicetrax: http://www.voiceover-training.com/

A subscription to Wired.

A subscription to New Scientist.

A good (photo?) printer. To print out my headshots.

A new job in the field that I’m interested in.

A Grad School away from Marin. (This is really the only thing I truly want.)

Music Lessons – singing and instrumental (accordion, guitar, ukulele, along those lines).

To be in a good play that is produced professionally.

All said, not quite a humble list, but I’m not greedy for these things, they’re just fun stuff that would definitely be a fun addition to my life. Especially the classes!

What do you want for the holidays?

Ish

Ish is standing next to my desk.

Ish sometimes gets stuck in a conversation that he doesn't know how to end. He's Indian (dot not the feather) and I think he revels in the fact that he speaks English very well. Sorry, "very well" is the correct way of putting it.

Ish also stands very closely. It must be a difference in personal space.

Ish has a cool name.

Ish needs to go away now.

Supa

I have also been playing an obscene amount of Super Mario Galaxy lately. Trust me on this one, it's an amazing game. Definetly a wonderful successor to 64 and Sunshine, and still in the great silly world that is Mario. I'll give a full review after Bowzer stops killing me.

Although I've started wondering. How many years has it been since Mario has actually unclogged a drain? I'm sure getting the princess is well and good, but all those years of trade school and apprenticeship are totally going to waste.

The Labours of Liqueur

I went to my mom's house last night, and when I walked in the door, I found my stepdad amazingly drunk. This wasn't a simple, "hi-ho, I'm really drunk Ben, but I'm charming!" this was a, "hi-ho I think I'm so charming but I'm really just loud and am annoying you and your mother so that you don't get to talk or rest or eat or anything and I will just be talking really loudly even though I'm very tired so now I'm falling over oh look I'm on the ground now how funny is that I made a loud noise when I did it and now I'm trying to get up but it's not working and I'm still talking so loudly."

I noticed that almost an entire bottle of gin (Bombay Sapphire) was gone. Hey, I was going to drink that.

I have no problems with people drinking. I drink, you drink (unless you don't), and we enjoy it. It sometimes helps me relax from the day: work, performances, grandparents - and can be a truly enjoyable experience. However, I think Tim does it simply because he wants to get drunk. I've known a few people like this in the past, and could always ignore them, but of course it's always different when it's right next to you, when it's happening to someone you (mildly) care about. I don't think I'll ever understand why he drinks to get so stupid drunk. He pretty much has a cushy existance. He gets a TON of acting work, he is being almost fully supported by a woman who loves him and who won't leave him, and plus he gets to drink! Awesome! Oh wait, the drinking part's the bad thing.

----

Drew's show is sloshing along. Did an almost run through last night, starting an hour late, and ending by doing just the songs from act 2 and my one scene. Pretty songs. Pretty long songs. Long songs.

It's going to sound beautifully, be very silly, and look like someone pooped on a tiny version of the set and used that as blocking and scene design. That is the true problem with a labour of love: everyone is putting their entire hearts into the project and happily leaving their brains in a box at the door, so as not to get messy. My scenes are fun, but make little sense at times due to the almost random nature addition of my character to the play. It's going to be a good show, just not wonderful. But that is the nature of new works. Maybe someday it will be an amazing thing.

Just not next week.

---

Fun stuff:

http://www.theonion.com/content/atlas/

The Onion's new Atlas. It's quite informative.

http://www.wired.com/entertainment/hollywood/magazine/15-12/ff_futurama

Best show on television! Is it sad that I'm more excited about that than the show I'm in or seeing my family this winter?

And I drew a cat

Viva...?

*blinks at the daylight*

Hello there. I am back from Vegas. So much fun. For a place that evolved from lawlessness in the middle of a desert, I never felt safer. What an odd place, hundreds of miles of nothing, and then a big neon dumbass sprawling city that everyone across the world comes to pour money into. It's like a giant offering to some old god that people forgot, but the tradition lives on.

Gambled a little, ate a lot, sang a lot, then had horrible stomache problems a lot. It was an epic weekend to be had by all. And I had a sick day when I came back, spent on the toilet! Woohoo!

The highlight of the whole time (aside from winning money, which I did, and I am still very happy) was seeing Tom and being with him for his 50th birthday. He's an excellent person, and I am glad that I talk to him more often now. All of his brothers came out too, and we had a birthday dinner here, but not here, where my mom and I thought it was; we sat in Liberace's old bar, wondering where they were for a half an hour. I wouldn't know to recommend it for the food, but the drinks were tasty and made the evening go a lot more smoothly. I wonder why I never drank before? Everything's so simple: Talking to people, eating, vomiting, gambling, driving, sitting in a jail cell - what a wonderful magic drug it is.

But the dinner was lovely, and 2 hours later it was out of my body again, so I didn't even cheat with the high fatty foods! Huzzah for stomach viruses. Or whatever I have. Makes me feel special in a queasy way.

The next night my mom and I went and saw Penn and Teller (mostly because Neil Gaiman said it was cool) . That was the kind of show that really makes me enjoy the performing world. There were no frills and everything was very intelligent - they don't play to the lowest common denominator; they both trust that the audience is smart and can understand the topics they're talking about. No wonder they've been performing successfully for over 30 years, the last five in Vegas; it was a truly spectacular performance. They even had a jazz duo before the show. I could go on and on.

Of course, thinking about how they've been a team for 30 years and thinking about when they started their act, it made me want more of a drive towards a goal. Obviously the two of them have had to been driven, and it makes me think that this is the time of my life to start something big. It may not be comedy magic (most likely won't, actually), it may not even be acting, but I want to get out there and do something so that later in life I won't be thinking how much time I wasted sitting around in marin county making blog posts at work. I mean, who does that? Oh wait.

It was a wonderful trip, I'm definetly going to go back soon.

In other news, I just turned in my 401k plan. Way overdue. That's my contingency plan: if I don't become a huge success, at least I'll have some investments and other boring shit that everyone else deals with in their lives. It happens to the best of us. I'm just hoping that something better will come along. Either that or I'll live as a hermit, a druid, living of the plains and the fields and I'll make my house out of branches and whimsy.

I need another vacation.

Eating a Granola Bar

Just transferred all the posts over to my new blog which has yet to be designed. For now it's just an inverse thing of this site. But with theatre reviews. The ones that were up here. Remember?

I am always amazed by the joys of working here. One would think that working for artists would be different. I suppose it is, different than, oh say working for something evil. And yet, the pettiness and bitterness that flows within me is almost a constant. I have to fight to not become something that I hate. So that's why I must come up with little games to amuse me all day. Then, of course, I realize that that is the very thing that everyone else does to get through their day.

I wouldn't mind at all if there was something more along the lines of work at work, but the majority of my day I am reading the same websites over and over - convienently located at the right side of the page - and hiding them as quickly as possible when someone walks by. Lately though, there's less hiding, and more people noticing my (not so) secret obsessions with things that are marketed towards me, famous author's blogs, and other very random things.

On top of that, I do think that my neck is starting to get a horrible pain. I think it's answering telephones all day.

And through the magic of the paragraph break I am now 20 minutes later after someone came by my desk asking for where the Beaver File is. So I, trying not to titter reply:

"What?"

"The Beaver File."

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

"I meant FileMaker file. I have no idea why I said Beaver."

Links

This picture is from the Berkeley City Club pool room, where I saw Every Inch A King last night. We went exploring and found this room. (Click to embiggen.)

Of course it was darker then, and I felt very much like a Sneak, since there were people swimming, and I was wearing a cabbie cap.

Wikipedia has a small but informative article on it:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berkeley_City_Club
Although didn't she design the Hearst Castle too? Can't swim there... maybe I'll swim here. Oh, and here's the official website: http://www.berkeleycityclub.com/

I'm probably hideously out of date about finding this blog, but for the 2 people including me who don't know about it, it's pretty amazing, full of really funny and interesting trivia. I likes: http://www.infowisps.blogspot.com/

Tomorrow's the costume party, and I still haven't completed my costume or got off my ass to get a haircut. It happens, I'll just be a very hairy Link. (No, not from Zelda.)

And more proof life is becoming like a comic book/video game/movie (and that's great for an up and coming mad scientist like myself):
http://www.wired.com/medtech/genetics/news/2007/10/cancer_virus

And thank you for asking, but I haven't heard back from them about my Lear audition. Their loss. I still think they're in shock from my amazingness and they haven't been able to pick up a phone to call me.

And something I'd like to do if I had the time:
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/10/26/BAOVSTQN1.DTL

A letter fromme the hearte

HUGE MUFFIN.

No, I'm not calling you that, I went to Molly Stone's to get some oatmeal - of which they are out - and instead found muffins - of which they are bountiful.

These muffins are not the normal kind of muffin that is pleasant to get along with. These muffins are lopsided, unsymmetrical, and utterly breathtaking. The body of this particular muffin is similar to the others - a small, almost infantile body is dwarfed by the king's crown of muffin top. It spreads over the rest of the world, towering over the small body both in heigth and width. I'm almost afraid to eat it out of respect for the muffin and its creator, but that is until I take a bite, and soon throw that theory away and awash myself in the mysteries that is the muffin lore.

Muffin lore is a wonderful thing. I, like you, have never been a big fan of blueberries (blubios, in the vernacular), but within the mysticism that is this muffin, some new and glorious truth has been written for me, and the deliciousness is the king's bounty, the pirate's treasure, the baker's contribution to the world.

I stated before that the muffins are not the pleasant kind, this fact remains true. It takes a strong force of will to interact healthily with this muffin. One must understand that the muffin cannot be consumed all at once - as some of the waifs and rastabouts do with their tomfoolery and canoodling - this muffin must be savoured, and can only be understood by a true Muffinologist, and while I certainly am on that path, I would hardly consider my own knowledge of muffins and muffin lore to be anything more than average.

And yet, average when it comes to muffin lore is an interesting thing. So many people who I encounter in a day, whether it be in work or in play, do not carry with them neither the knowledge or the physical sticky presence that is a muffin. Perhaps I know more than I like to claim - but I will remain modest until I can prove to myself that my muffin lore truly is muffinologist worthy.

With that, I consume.

This May Continue On a Blog Made for Stories

This was my attempt at just writing something for the sake of writing. I made a New Year's Resolution (2 years ago) that I would just start writing. Maybe doing something every day, even if it's not that great.

Rosa opened her eyes. It was a long time before she could think of anything else to do – it was dark. It was the kind of darkness that deepens when you open your eyes, the kind that shifts and changes and you see shapes in its wake. A thought floats through her head:

How did you get here?

Now that’s a funny thing to think, she thought, I must have started standing up, and now I’m lying. As simple as that. Other things are simple too, like moving. Here, I’ll show you.

This was more difficult than originally planned, her entire body seemed to be frozen, and her body was not listening.

I order you to move, she thought, stubbornly, to her hands, you’ve never disobeyed me before, so move!

However, even with that great force of will, her body remained stubbornly idle, a rock on this pavement.

And that’s another thing, why is this so cold and hard? I do not remember ever sleeping on something as uncomfortable. I doubt I would have done this to myself on purpose. Unless I was in the woods and I forgot my bedroll, perhaps I’m in the woods?

She pauses for a moment to listen for the sounds that are so familiar to her. She listens for the quiet rustling of the trees overhead, listens for the sounds of the insects, for the animals that would be interested in an immobile young woman, listens for the telltale jingle of the garish caravan she traveled with for so many years. Nothing. That is to say, nothing familiar, there’s plenty to listen to, once her ears are tuned. What seemed like a faint noise in her ears that at first she mistook for her own head is now unmistakably turning out to be rushing water behind rock. She also confirmed the fact that she did not have a bedroll.

How did you get here?

How should I know? I just went to bed not too long ago – I am still perfectly exhausted. And here I am, in this foul smelling cold, dank place. I can’t move! Do you think I wanted something like this? And now I’m talking to myself. I’m just like those madmen who traded with the caravan.

The thought came again, this time stronger, but Rosa, if anything, had an incredible ignorance towards things she did not want to believe. She did not want to think of being somewhere completely unknown, not knowing where she was or what she was doing lying on the ground. She had seen plenty in her life, but never had she been genuinely confused. In her frustration, she let out a growl.

And the best I can do is growl! This better not be one of those stupid horror stories that the girls in the village tell me about. I certainly don’t believe in werewolves, and even if I did, one certainly did not bite me! I would have remembered that! And what is that tapping noise?

In her anger and frustration, Rosa was tapping her hand ferociously on the floor. Now that her hand had her undivided attention, it suddenly stopped, as if cornered by stage fright. Quietly reserving her judgment for later, she turned all hostile thoughts away from the now still appendage. It started tapping again with the retreat of the mental spotlight.

Rosa gave a small sigh. It was a perfectly absurd situation: no memory of the how she came to be there, lying on the ground, a voice in her head, and now an itch right on the tip of her nose.

This is absurd!

With that, she moved her hands, pushed herself into a sitting position, stood up, and scratched her nose vigorously. And to prove to her self that it is all in her head:

“That was easy. And so was that! Never a doubt in my mind.”

Furrowing her brows, she concentrates on her right palm and pushes the energy out, as she did so many times traveling. This is a harder endeavour than she planned, as if what comes so easy to her is stunted behind a thick wall, but soon enough, as she was taught and it was willed to be, a tiny flame of blue green light flickers to life and wraps around her hand, and what should give off the light of a torch only shines like a candle, once again giving her pause.

Speaking aloud helps, “If this is a room, and I’m inside it, there must be a door.”

The High School Musicale

Today it begins.

I can't believe I actually agreed to Stage Manage this. Today is the day that I get to meet 45 kids and try to keep them under control. The meeting yesterday made me think that the director wants me to not be only a Techincal Guru, but the disciplinarian of these children. This is another step in the chain of weirdness that has been this production company.

The joy in my life is that I'll be doing it with someone I care about so deeply. It's going to be fun carpooling back and forth and getting to know more and more about the person - sometimes it feels so wonderful just thinking about the future I think I'm going to burst. And I'm going to make the best out of the show though, it's the San Francisco premiere, I'm going to get paid for my work, and I have a great future ahead of me.

But, like all theatre that I get caught up in, I don't really want to do it. If only I did just that for a living. I say that to myself every single day. Then again, I don't really live in a place that has theatre that can fully support someone. (Why doesn't he just go to a bigger theatre town, you cry?)

I love it here, and as I've said to many people now, this has become my home. It has been a place of so much joy and fun and success. Yes, success. I've been fairly successful in my acting career, and it's not really slowing down - I hope it never does. Chicago is probably in my future, I have a spot in my heart for that place, but Los Angeles has been my goal forever, and I'm going to have to try.

Went and saw Superbad last night. All in all, a good movie, and I'm glad that I saw it on the big screen. It has certain wonderful moments that harken (hearken?) back to my times trying to find alcohol when underage, and how much I take that for granted now. And the horniness, oh my yes, I remember that well. To be honest, that still hasn't gone away, but I am a lot more confident in myself, and therefore able to have a lot more chances to make that horniness go away.

To sum it up: I am incredibly glad that I am done with high school and would never go back there in a million years. Unless, of course, it was in another life - and then I'd just go through it and be grateful it's over with again. Same goes for college - but as always I have been toying with the idea of graduate school.

Been trying to plow through Sarah Vowell's Assassination Vacation. It's a fucking brilliant book. I always am happy to find out people with similar tastes in the macabre that I am.

City of Villains Profile - A Work in Progress

"Damn pigs!”

Dr. Malcolm Ray shot a few more times in the air to scare them back to the farmhouse across the way. The heat of the weapon radiated in his hand, and with the part of his brain that is not infused with pure hatred for his four legged companions, making a mental note to recalibrate the radiation, he slid it back into the compartment on the outside of the wall, shooting it off to the rooms beneath.

“My vocabulary always runs short when pigs are involved,” he says to himself, turning towards the wires that are now contorted and twisted and covered in pig slop.

“Oh, the glamorous life we lead.”

His breath swirling, visible in the cold night air, the doctor glances up at the monitor to see if power has returned. There is a small flicker, and he held his breath. The green light faded to blue, and flashed the circular symbol for The Vetruvian Project - currently stalled from the cold and the pigs.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Malcolm shivered in his coat and turned up his collar as he walked back towards the electronic door signaling the entrance to the compound.

“Welcome to the Compound, Dr. Ray,” a soothing female voice was the reply as he glanced towards the retinal monitors.

Compound, he thought, passing through the doorway and slowly descending the stairs, How lovely. It’s quainter than that thought…where is everyone else? Oh right! I had to lead up the genetics, and now I’m stuck here at the satellite Compound. I’m surprised I didn’t find a bearskin rug when I was flown here. Although, I’m not against boarskin…

He pondered that comforting thought for a few seconds, disemboweling the pigs, eating the good and hanging the bad over the worktables as a trophy. What brought him out of his reverie was the simple fact at how freezing it still was in the room – the cold has seeped into the very walls. Turning to the monitor, he glanced at the internal temperature – 10 degrees colder than outside.

“That’s strange.”

“Not really. Think about it,” came a voice behind him.

Whipping around with all the strength and agility of a man who has just been surprised and utilizing the full extent of the weekend self defense retreat his company sent him on, he was promptly hit with a sub zero temperature and knocked off balance by the sheer numbness and betrayal of his body.

“Your time here is at an end, good Doctor. I’m here to take you back to the Zig, and if you play nice, you may get to do it sleeping peacefully,” says the intruder, his blue and black suit humming slightly with an otherworldly aura.

Of course, Frozen was always at my heels, why should I think that this company would save me otherwise?

“What, no typical banter? Isn’t this where you can’t believe that I’ve found you? It was so pitifully easy, and the time for black and white, good and evil is over. I could kill you so easily right now, but why stop the bounty?”

“I see you have been working on your aim, Frozen. Especially when you pick on an old man who has no defense. Good work, I applaud the team of heroes who sent you.”

“They couldn’t do the hard work – you’ve had lethal force in the past, Doctor, and I’m not about to let you off --!”

The sound of his voice died out, as the familiar tinkle of breaking glass came from the corner. Both pairs of eyes stared as what resembled more a beast than a man came into the light.

“Frozen, you don’t know what you’ve done. That’s the project, the unstable project! How could you have done this? You have frozen the chamber enough for him to escape…and also have given me a brilliant distraction,” the doctor says with triumph as he pulls the radiation weapon from underneath the console, “Limited teleportation, just for this occasion. Good bye, Frozen.”

The gun goes off, and the next seconds are a blur. Frozen hits a button on his suit, and an ear splitting ring goes off, Malcolm immediately knows that he has signaled for backup, but he doesn’t care any more, the radiation has hit his enemy in the chest, and is slowly pushing him to the floor.

The beast watches as the familiar figure shoots and shoots the one encased until there is a sudden silence from the suit, followed by a deafening crack as it opens – and then the whole of the world seems to be cold, numb pain – worse than anything he ever felt inside the liquid container, so much that it brings water to his eyes. The familiar man is lying on the ground – the chopped memories of him surge to his mind – reading to him every night, keeping him healthy when he was sick, and torturing him with tests every day like clockwork. He does not know anything else in the world, his father and creator lying motionless at his feet; he picks up the weapon though the haze of pain and fires at the cold body across from him.

“Please,” moans the voice as it is pummeled with the weapon, “I’ll do anything…”

The beast has never used his voice before, and as he opens his mouth to reply, a strange thought surfaces: My first words will be his last.

“No!” he screams, and fires again and again, feeling the pain from the cold wash over him with every pulse of the weapon.

He glances down at his father to see simply a look of terror, not at him, he is perfection, but at the weapon in his hands, and he barely has time to look back up when a flash of green light grows and erupts, engulfing them all.

**

It is night when the heroes come to aid Frozen, but the compound is destroyed. Two bodies are found, and the snow and the countless pigs that have shown up to feast have since obliterated any tracks that may have come from the site.

And a mile away, the beast looks upon the wreckage that was once his home, a place of comfort and pain. The only place he knew. The Vetruvian Project.

Hawaiian Times

"Wow, Ben, you're going tropical today!"

"Thanks."

"It sure is wild!"

"Yep."

"What's the occasion?"

"Just figured I'd be festive for summer and the 4th of July."

"Well, then it should be red, white and blue."

"I'm not patriotic."

Yes, I am wearing my pineapple semi-Hawaiian shirt today. Stop the presses! People act like they've never seen a mildly flashy shirt before. I guess it's pretty much anything to break up the tedium of the office, and I guess in their soul sucking way, they need anything that distracts them from their 80 hour workweeks. I don't like to rub it in that at 5:30, I leave. Every day.

They live to work. I work to live. I wish I could be an idealist and say that one day I'll find a job that I truly enjoy, and that I will yearn to get up in the mornings and go into something that I care about. Until then, I stay cynical.

After all, it's gotten me this far.

...yeah, I gotta start working on that.