Astronauts and Airplanes

And now begin the busy times . . . classes have started and they are everything I'd hoped for them to be. Science Fiction is awesome, and I have some great friends in it. Voice is a bit odd but that's what I like about it, plus I also have some very cool people in it.

Also in good news: one of my professors is currently reading my play I've been working on, since he asked if I wanted to submit it and then asked if he could read it. What could I say, no? Ha, so that's exciting and nerve-wracking; and if it turns out he likes it, and he needs it, "Fallen," may very well come to stage sooner then expected. So, fingers crossed. 

But onto serious matters for a moment. Couple nights back, I had an odd dream. 

I was supposed to go to the moon, and I was in the ship, floating, freaking out, desperately trying to find footing, find a way to bring myself back down; back down towards friends, family and normalcy. 

I assume it was my subconscious' way of dealing with my brother going to Germany. Because I'm scared for him, a bit. I hope he'll be okay, I think he will be, he's not an idiot. In between those ears is a good brain; I just hope he'll remember to use it when he comes upon the moments he'll need to actually use it. But he'll be okay. It's an adventure and excitement, and Germany should be a blast. He'll find footing, eventually, and turn himself right side up and enjoy the view. And the women . . . and the booze . . . and the -- alright I'll stop haha. 

(Just kidding about the booze and the women, but I have warned him not to accept booze from strange women . . . again, I know, brain moment.)

So good luck to my brother. I know he'll be fine and come back brimming with stories and confidence. Much love to him, and I'll see him in a little while. 

Alright Internet, back to work!

Moving on . . . In!

Hey Internet, sorry I'm late. Been quite a hectic week I'll tell you . . . oh, you want me to tell you? Okay then, glad you're so interested in my goings-ons!

On Tuesday, we moved in about 200 freshmen to the dorms. Then Wednesday we moved in about let's say 150 more. Then on Thursday we moved in about 400+ kids, and more will be staggering through the gates in the next few days.

Holy crap Batman . . . that's a lot of kids. But it goes with the territory of being part of reslife, I s'pose. I was put on greeting table for the new and excited/nervous/terrified/bored/angry freshmen. It was a fun time; granted they were all of very different attitudes bout the whole, "college thing." But I hope I calmed 'em down or made 'em a little more at home. 

Met my new suitemates and they're pretty awesome. Harrison is a badass, since he's got a goddamn pin in his finger joint, yet still walks around with a smile, ready to hang out and do other badass things, like alligator cage fights, and racing bikers in a gang . . . on foot! Jaime is pretty, as he would say, "chill." He's 6'5, (I imagine,) into the 60s, has what I would call wearable acid trips, aka brightly colored stuff, and an awesome head of hair, the kind you buy at Woodstock. He too is into badass things, but not quite as dangerous as Harrison. Though if I bet him to do an alligator cage fight, he'd probably find a way to talk me into doing it for him. Cause he's just that chill.

Monday starts classes. I am quite excited, as all I'm taking are english and theater classes, my 1-Up and Super Mushroom of the academic world, to make a Super Mario reference. This weekend will include seeing friends, sleeping, eating, writing, and seeing friends, and then on Monday, it shall begin!

Until then my dear Internet . . .

Party Time

Many of you may know, yesterday was the 1 week anniversary of this blog. I did not update; instead I hired a babysitter and the Blog and I went out for a night on the town.

It was pleasant, we went to a new greek place on central. Tried some weird lamb thing, I didn't like it, the Blog did though, so as long as someone liked it . . .

Saw Inglorious Basterds again. I told the Blog so much about it, it wanted to see it for itself. Liked it, not as much as me, but still enjoyed it.

Then came home, kids were happy. Even had a few minutes to catch up with the babysitter. Bacon Crisp is good with the kids.

Okay, food on Indian Quad, later!

Wheel of Morality, Turn, Turn, Turn!

Hey my little minions of the internet, good to see you all again. Today my lesson is one of morality as well as some new bits of interest thrown your way. Those are first.

-Tried Green Tea Ice Cream: Prognosis: Not bad, had a very earthy quality to it, one could say slime, since that is part of the earth, but I'll opt for grains of dirt. Not much better, true, but it did possess a rough texture, and it was a little funky at first, but damn it was tasty.

- Don't Parallel Park By Lark Street: Especially when you see a giant fire-truck come barreling down the street and parking right in front of where you are, AS you parallel park. Yes, I know this requires hindsight or clairvoyance, but still, its a word to the wise.

- Inglorious Bastards, by the incorrigible Quintin Tarantino, is one of the best films of the summer, right up there with Star Trek (drool), and District 9 (tear). It has Brad Pitt as a nazi scalp-hunter, a 25 second bar fight that will leave you asthmatic, and a finale that was far better then the actual conclusion of the real world WWII. Good on you Quintin, keep it. And yes that was me just now butchering your name. Deal with it.

And that brings us to the lesson of the night. My brother works at a movie theater; I respect the government of a movie theater and appreciate when I can bypass that government through my brother's intervention. However, sneaking into a theater has never been an option in my opinion. Tonight, in the whirlwind of getting into Bastards, a guy I never met, but with us, handed me a ticket stub and said, "It's starting, GO!" I blankly walked ahead, not sure if I should be doing it, or if I could get away with it. Yet without missing a beat, I made for the theater like I'd been there all my life, met the man's eyes, and said a, "hey how's it going?" without batting an eye, as I showed him the ticket stub. He didn't stop me and I walked on into the theater, feeling as guilty as a nun at a carnival, (not that she should but who knows how many lewd and lascivious things lay in wait?)

Luckily God likes to stay consistent in the irony of my life; the show was oversold, not a seat in the house available. Thank God! Ha, I was deathly guilty over it all, and for the show we went to, I bought myself a ticket, even though this guy tried doing the same schtick. Not for me; I'm all for a bit of mischief, but I like to keep it kosher, not provide a chance for myself to get in trouble.

And the worst part, is that it was easy. If that show hadn't been oversold, I would have been in and in for good. Management would never have known of the ten dollars they'd missed out on, not a lot yes, but damnit it's the principle of the thing.

So lesson of the night to all you ne'er-do-wells. Just because a thing is easy to do, and get away with, it doesn't make it the right thing to do. Alright, now. Bed.

G'night! 

Asterios Polyp

Wow.

I say again, wow.

I just finished reading Asterios Polyp, a new graphic novel by master artist and writer, David Mazzuchelli. I had no idea what it was about going in, nor did I wish to. All I'd heard, was that it was amazing and was not to be missed.

They were right.

As story goes, it is a beautiful piece about a man who spends the first half of his life, living as himself, for himself. Regardless of where he is, who is talking to or about, Asterios Polyp, esteemed architect and man about town, is the toast of the scene and the lover of the spotlight, even if he doesn't mean to be there. And while he experiences love with the beautiful Hana, it dissolves, as he overshadows her and she eventually, cannot take it. By the end, he has gone on a journey, the like of which philosophers DREAM they could go on. And his ending is sudden, and poetic and funny, and obviously foreshadowed, but he is content and has learned his lesson: You cannot live only for yourself and still be a happy man.

Story aside, I envy Mr. Mazzuchelli's ease with art and line and form, and ugh! It's amazing, amazing, amazing, artwork, as both letters and art share the narrative and it flows so well together and oh man . . . it's amazing . . .

I can't praise this book enough. Even now, I have a feeling of ease about me. A feeling that I am satisfied by what has occurred in this book, yet I have absolutely no problem, going back and going on that journey all over again. Because though Asterios may be overconfident and snarky, and a bit of an ass at first . . . well, he learns, and so did I.

Gnight.

Bad News Bears

Today was parts many things: it was part training, part bad news bears, part utter joy, part stinging regret, and many wild, insane and crazy stories and ideas, as it should be always.

Today's Bad News Bears was learning that the girl I was looking forward to dating this fall, has in fact, found another guy. No wait. Found isn't the right word. Found implies she was already looking, I think. Instead she stumbled into him; because no one ever plans on stumbling. 

I'm not mad at her. I will admit, at first I was, for a few moments. But common sense came a knocking, and I just couldn't be. She didn't plan on this happening, who does? It happened, and well, he was there, and I was not. No other way to look at it. And I look at it this way: she had the common courtesy, the decency of a respectable, lovely lady, to tell me. She let me know herself and I appreciate that a helluva lot. Do I wish I could have dated her? Of course. And I'm sad that I still will not be able to, at least not at this present time. But at least I still have a friend who loves me as that, and sometimes that's enough.

Good News Gophers today was seeing my friend Matt Leonard, who is an amazing, amazing friend. Some say we have a bromance going on. I am one of those who say that. We're awesome friends, and we click on so many levels he's like an older brother to me sometimes, (not discounting my official older brother, who I love a bunch haha). It was good seeing him today, since it had been so long since we'd had a brainstorm. We traded stories and songs, and ideas and life lessons for 4 hours. And we could've kept going, how cool is that? I have only a bushel full of friends I can do that with. I'm thankful for all of them, all my friends, and my friends Matt and Jesse especially recently. They keep me smiling and on my toes and my brain thinking.

Alright Internet, time for bed. Brush your teeth please, Manuscript told me you almost knocked him out the other day. G'night.

1 AM

I want to take a time out kiddies, and have a pow-wow about something I find very, very f*cking important, (sorry I know I shouldn't swear with the kids in the room, but hell they're going to hear it some day anyway, right?). Regardless . . .

Last night was a night I was prepared for, but had hoped never to come. But like all things that happen in our lives, it came, whether I had willed it or no; and this is a thing I had would never in a thousand, thousand times of the world's revolutions wish on anyone. 

My friend called me, sobbing, trying to talk to me through her sadness, and before she even spoke I knew what happened. I knew after she told me. And I stood there and listened as she cried, and it's a moment that defines heartbreak. Because when your friends hurt, you hurt. When your friends cry and anger and worry, you do as well. Friendship is a bond stronger then steel and something woven tighter then DNA. But you know what's stronger, in most cases? Love. Not love of a friend, but somewhere alone the line, love, true honest to goodness love, is somewhere higher on the food chain. And this night, that line was cut for my friend. She whom she loved had decided that the love she gave back to my friend was no longer pure or true or some kind of bullshit as most excuses go. 

Now, I don't have a manual on how to handle break-ups, quite the opposite in fact. Because there is no manual telling you how to explain to someone that you no longer love them; it's abnormal how we go from person to person and try and love them, for so temporary a time. Ugh.

I digress. There is no manual. But there is a rule book. Number One Rule: Do not initiate said break-up on the f*cking computer!

I don't care if you don't want to hear that person, or if you want to save goddamn minutes, you freaking call! Because even if the love isn't there, show her some goddamn respect! She deserves at least much . . . Number Two Rule: Don't say you still love them. There are extenuating circumstances on this one, but please spare the break-upee some pain and do not bring love into the equation. It's bad enough that it's happening but to hear it's still happening with love still there?! Not fair, nor cool.

My friend is an amazing, amazing young woman. She, ha . . . funny how the english major can't find the right words here . . . 

She smiles whenever she wants to. She has a penchant for random conversation, and odd comments and a musical mind I find genius. She is, I love her to death. We're pretty much brother and sister, just ask the State of New York. She means so much to me. For me to hear her heartbroken, and not being there to hold her and be there for her was the worst feeling. God knows I'll feel worse before I die, but as life has gone, that's up there. 

But you know what, person-who-broke-my-best-friends-heart? She's stronger then this, she's going to come out of this smelling of roses and confidence. She's going to take this and rise above, because as much as it hurts now, it will hurt worse if nothing is changed, and strength is not found. And I know you, PWBMBFH, we've hung out. I'll just say, you did not know what you had. You didn't know it and now it's too late. 

I realize this has been a long post, sorry internet I'l be better next time. I just needed to cleanse this out of my system. My final thought is this: Relationships are parts love and respect; if a break-up is to happen, both are not to vanish. Thank you.

Much love to Woof, from your buddy Honk

Random Stew

Hello those who read this, and those who don't, I bed thee welcome.

Been a busy past couple of days; let's see if this old brain can remember some of it. Got up here to Albany on sunday, and honestly, it feels great to be back. I thought it would be that weird, odd, "oh I'm here again?" kind of feeling, but felt like coming home again. Got my stuff packed up and into my room, which is also a lot bigger and grander then last years, though there is this odd amount of dirt and sand gathering along my windowsill . . . strange, must be from the construction . . . or those beach parties . . . ah well, never mind, moving on.

Training for residential life has been going very well, though I could do without the looooooong days, but well, it's necessary. I heard a metaphor that we're so closely bonded with one another, because this is like a military institutions; crappy conditions pull people together I guess. But everyone is really awesome, especially my supervisor Brandon, who has done every job from here to the end of the earth and if he hasn't wrangled dinosaurs yet, it's only because he hasn't been giving the opportunity. Joe is also becoming increasingly awesome, since it seems we're the same person, from parallel worlds; english majors who do theater and improv and jones for shakespeare unite!

But things have been going well, hopefully going to have some free time tonight to work on some writing, or get some reading done. By the way, a note; when I do post writing up here, the format shall be thus: I will post a tidbit of some writing I've done, but not all since people like to steal shit on the internet, (no not you guys, those guys behind you!) Ha kidding of course, but it is entirely possible. So I'll post a bit, and if you want to read more, I'll provide an email you can send to me and ask to read and I'll be all like, SURE!

Anywho, it's been nice talking Internet, but I'm off to the world of thoughts and ideas and most likely sleep, cause damn I'm tired. A quote for tonight, on life. This is provided by my boss, who after eating UA Ice cream said, that much like life, "It's f*cking delicious!"

Quick like Molasses

Hey gang,

Quick blog tonight, for my body is most tired. Good day at Albany and tomorrow or perhaps the day after, I will tell that story, but for tonight I'll simply say:

You know you are with the best of friends and having a great time, when it takes an hour for you to get your ass out the door, after saying goodbye three times. 

That is all. Sleep well my minions.

Birth Of A Blog! (oh man . . . placental fluid EVERYWHERE!)

Despite the gross addendum to the title, I hope you find it at least a tad humorous. If not, well, nothing I can do about it. 

Huh . . . funny . . . blogs are supposed to be a center for creativity and new ideas, a place where the every day life is observed and recorded, and maybe something useful can come out of it. A place where the jaded cynic has his internet soapbox to stand on and proclaim what he cares about and screw you if you don't want to listen, I'll just shout louder! BLOGS ARE SUPPOSED TO CHANGE THE WORLD!

If so, then how come I can't do anything if you don't laugh at my joke title? Irony you cruel b*tch!

Anywho, angry, forced ranting aside, this is my blog. 

Welcome. Please take a seat on the rug. We may have a couple of fold out chairs in the basement, but please -- you know what? No, sit on the rug. Some people don't have butts, enjoy what you have; now sit. 

I'm glad you've found a nice spot on my art-deco rug that may have a story or two behind it, but now it has stories on top of it. That's right, you are all stories. In your blood runs tales and songs and whispers of things that may mean love or hate or joy, but everyone hears something different. I'm a story too; I'm a story that tells stories. And this blog, I suppose has found it's purpose. 

Some days I will tell you my story. Someday it may be a friends, or an enemies story. And someday it may be one of my stories; who knows what you'll get?

Just sit back, relax, take one of the apple juice cartons we're passing around and let me open my book of tales, and see what we have for today . . . Ah yes . . .

This is a good one . . .