Mormonism is FASCINATING!
I'd write more on the subject, but I have to get back to my books. Suffice to say, I think Joseph Smith may have been onto something!
I mean, he totally made it up. Yeah. That's what I meant to say.
*ahem*
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Strikes Again
Our buddy Fred Phelps strikes again!
Honestly, part of me can't help but think it's all a terribly funny joke. The kind that I would make.
Honestly, part of me can't help but think it's all a terribly funny joke. The kind that I would make.
Isn't it funny...
Isn't it funny how a bunch of things in the late 90s-early 00s started with "e"?
e-mail
e-store
e-harmony
e-motion
We all know what happened then.
The e-market crashed and that was the end of e-commerce.
I'm glad we finally found a letter that really works... I!
Now THAT'S a letter we can all get excited about!
e-store
e-harmony
e-motion
We all know what happened then.
The e-market crashed and that was the end of e-commerce.
I'm glad we finally found a letter that really works... I!
Now THAT'S a letter we can all get excited about!
Monday, May 14, 2007
Lemonade Diet
Hey gang,
Not a lot going on these days. We finished the show, I'm still moderately depressed, and I'm doing a lot of research on Mormonism.
The show went really well. Again, you really can't beat an hour and ten minutes of downtime playing Nofriendo DS or reading about Joseph Smith backstage, coming out to deliver five lines, then stuffing your mouth full of chocolate chip cookies.
I'm still not sure what to do with myself, although my interest in ukulele lessons has been renewed thanks to the possibility of a nice, normal office job which will enable me to pay for lessons in Brooklyn. I can hear the tin-pan alley tunes drifting up the stairwell as I type this. Junga-junga-junga-junga-jung...
WAIT THE CRAP!
DID I JUST SAY NICE, NORMAL OFFICE JOB?!
Yes. I totally did.
I know I vowed I'd never go back to one of those, but as I'm not on a Lemonade Diet like my friend here, I need to be able to afford food.
It's not that I'm a sad-sack. It's that I'm so conflicted. On the one hand, if I'm going to work from 9-5, I'd like to be doing something I enjoy. That means moving (possibly back to Texas) and going back to school so I can get some other skills that will save me from losing my soul in the office tower. Also, for all his yowling, I really do miss Nelson (remember him?)
(I have this recurring dream in which Nelson makes the move to New York. Five minutes later he runs away. In one of the dreams, Queen III gave me her dog to look after. I lost him too.)
On the other hand, I'm in New York. My apartment is rent-stabilized. It's (a little) less than $2000 a month and three blocks from Times Square in Midtown Manhattan. With rent shooting up absolutely EVERYWHERE, I'm seeing more and more that this little nook is actually worth its weight in Gold Plates.
Everyone wants to live in New York. Who cares about the poop-strewn promenades? That...and I like my friends up here. And an actor works all his life to get to either New York or L.A. If they leave either of those cities, where else CAN they go?!
Maybe I SHOULD try the Lemonade Diet. They say it provides clarity of thought (along with clarity of bowels).
Not a lot going on these days. We finished the show, I'm still moderately depressed, and I'm doing a lot of research on Mormonism.
The show went really well. Again, you really can't beat an hour and ten minutes of downtime playing Nofriendo DS or reading about Joseph Smith backstage, coming out to deliver five lines, then stuffing your mouth full of chocolate chip cookies.
I'm still not sure what to do with myself, although my interest in ukulele lessons has been renewed thanks to the possibility of a nice, normal office job which will enable me to pay for lessons in Brooklyn. I can hear the tin-pan alley tunes drifting up the stairwell as I type this. Junga-junga-junga-junga-jung...
WAIT THE CRAP!
DID I JUST SAY NICE, NORMAL OFFICE JOB?!
Yes. I totally did.
I know I vowed I'd never go back to one of those, but as I'm not on a Lemonade Diet like my friend here, I need to be able to afford food.
It's not that I'm a sad-sack. It's that I'm so conflicted. On the one hand, if I'm going to work from 9-5, I'd like to be doing something I enjoy. That means moving (possibly back to Texas) and going back to school so I can get some other skills that will save me from losing my soul in the office tower. Also, for all his yowling, I really do miss Nelson (remember him?)
(I have this recurring dream in which Nelson makes the move to New York. Five minutes later he runs away. In one of the dreams, Queen III gave me her dog to look after. I lost him too.)
On the other hand, I'm in New York. My apartment is rent-stabilized. It's (a little) less than $2000 a month and three blocks from Times Square in Midtown Manhattan. With rent shooting up absolutely EVERYWHERE, I'm seeing more and more that this little nook is actually worth its weight in Gold Plates.
Everyone wants to live in New York. Who cares about the poop-strewn promenades? That...and I like my friends up here. And an actor works all his life to get to either New York or L.A. If they leave either of those cities, where else CAN they go?!
Maybe I SHOULD try the Lemonade Diet. They say it provides clarity of thought (along with clarity of bowels).
Sunday, May 06, 2007
The NYC
I'm done with the four weeks of "temp work". I'm back to being a shiftless wand'rer on the streets of the NYC.
We also just finished the second of our three weekend run of that play I've been writing about. It's going really well. Honestly, it's my favorite show ever. It's an hour and fifteen minutes long. I sit backstage and play Pokémon for an hour and ten, then go onstage and deliver some closing exposition with two other guys and stuff my face with chocolate chip cookies.
Yep, you read that correctly. Another New York credit, this time on 42nd street, two blocks from the lights of Broadway. And all I do is say five lines and eat cookies at the end of the play. It doesn't get much better than that.
In fact, I've written a poem about it. It's been a while since I've written one of these, so excuse the dust.
Play o' mine,
Play o' mine,
Makin' me feel mighty fine.
It's not the best, but I'll not lie,
It beats a three piece suit and tie.
I sometimes think, "My life's a waste!"
As bankers leer and leave with haste
When I come knocking at their door,
Begging, "Please, one penny more!"
But worries all I cast aside
And try to just enjoy the ride.
This might be close as e'er I'll get
To Broadway's lights and all of it.
Pills and booze might mar my way
When I'm a star, but not today.
For now on cookies I will dine.
Play o' mine,
Sweet play o' mine.
We also just finished the second of our three weekend run of that play I've been writing about. It's going really well. Honestly, it's my favorite show ever. It's an hour and fifteen minutes long. I sit backstage and play Pokémon for an hour and ten, then go onstage and deliver some closing exposition with two other guys and stuff my face with chocolate chip cookies.
Yep, you read that correctly. Another New York credit, this time on 42nd street, two blocks from the lights of Broadway. And all I do is say five lines and eat cookies at the end of the play. It doesn't get much better than that.
In fact, I've written a poem about it. It's been a while since I've written one of these, so excuse the dust.
Play o' mine,
Play o' mine,
Makin' me feel mighty fine.
It's not the best, but I'll not lie,
It beats a three piece suit and tie.
I sometimes think, "My life's a waste!"
As bankers leer and leave with haste
When I come knocking at their door,
Begging, "Please, one penny more!"
But worries all I cast aside
And try to just enjoy the ride.
This might be close as e'er I'll get
To Broadway's lights and all of it.
Pills and booze might mar my way
When I'm a star, but not today.
For now on cookies I will dine.
Play o' mine,
Sweet play o' mine.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
:^|
For the sake of the folks who prefer my shorter posts (and really, who doesn't?!) here's a short one.
I think my brains are turning into mush.
I have to get up at 6am so I can do crunches, go to the gym, then hop on the subway and head to "temp work". However, after I've hit the sack at around 10 or so, my roommate comes home at 11, takes a shower at 12, and goes to sleep around 1.
Noisily.
He usually makes phone calls during all this.
I sleep with a pillow over my head.
As a result of getting 5 hours of sleep, once I get home from "temp work" (which typically involves me almost falling asleep in mid-pose) I spend my days lazing about. What else can I do? I'd like to say I do something productive with this time like work on a snazzy new poem or a play that will bring me moneyhappiness, but I don't. I usually just sort of...sleep. Maybe play a few video games. Then, if I'm really feeling charged up, I'll frump myself down in front of my computer and do an online Bible study.
And all because my roommate couldn't just be the freak quiet when he freakin' comes in at midnight. Yes! HE'S to blame!
Honestly, am I asking for too much here? I sort of think a roommate who understands that teflon pans do NOT need to be soaked overnight and who doesn't sing opera in the shower at 12:30am wouldn't be hard to find.
Who'm I kidding? Roommate could be worse. Much worse. I should thank my lucky stars.
So I sleep during the day.
Oh, and eat. I've taken to binge eating. Isn't that the saddest thing? It's a good thing the only thing I have food-wise in this apartment are a variety of fruits, whole grains, and non-fat cottage cheeses. I suppose I could do some real damage with the numerous jars of peanut butter I have hidden around the apartment like so many peanut butter jar-shaped Easter eggs, but that's why I hid them in the first place.
Once you get a mouthful of nonfat yogurt topped with all-natural granola...you just can't stop! Everything must be eaten!
All-natural dried apricots!
SNARF!
A cup of all-natural applesauce!
SCHLORP!
An all-natural peaunt butter and banana sandwich!
SMONCH!
A handful of all-natural strawberries!
SNACK!
I need a steak in the worst way.
I think my brains are turning into mush.
I have to get up at 6am so I can do crunches, go to the gym, then hop on the subway and head to "temp work". However, after I've hit the sack at around 10 or so, my roommate comes home at 11, takes a shower at 12, and goes to sleep around 1.
Noisily.
He usually makes phone calls during all this.
I sleep with a pillow over my head.
As a result of getting 5 hours of sleep, once I get home from "temp work" (which typically involves me almost falling asleep in mid-pose) I spend my days lazing about. What else can I do? I'd like to say I do something productive with this time like work on a snazzy new poem or a play that will bring me moneyhappiness, but I don't. I usually just sort of...sleep. Maybe play a few video games. Then, if I'm really feeling charged up, I'll frump myself down in front of my computer and do an online Bible study.
And all because my roommate couldn't just be the freak quiet when he freakin' comes in at midnight. Yes! HE'S to blame!
Honestly, am I asking for too much here? I sort of think a roommate who understands that teflon pans do NOT need to be soaked overnight and who doesn't sing opera in the shower at 12:30am wouldn't be hard to find.
Who'm I kidding? Roommate could be worse. Much worse. I should thank my lucky stars.
So I sleep during the day.
Oh, and eat. I've taken to binge eating. Isn't that the saddest thing? It's a good thing the only thing I have food-wise in this apartment are a variety of fruits, whole grains, and non-fat cottage cheeses. I suppose I could do some real damage with the numerous jars of peanut butter I have hidden around the apartment like so many peanut butter jar-shaped Easter eggs, but that's why I hid them in the first place.
Once you get a mouthful of nonfat yogurt topped with all-natural granola...you just can't stop! Everything must be eaten!
All-natural dried apricots!
SNARF!
A cup of all-natural applesauce!
SCHLORP!
An all-natural peaunt butter and banana sandwich!
SMONCH!
A handful of all-natural strawberries!
SNACK!
I need a steak in the worst way.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Life Decisions
Those of you who have spoken to me lately know what a drag I am to talk to these days. I can't seem to stop talking about ME and worrying about MY problems and wondering what I'm going to do with my life.
Well, I've had it. From here on out, I'm going to shift my focus, something I should have done a long time ago. I'm only going to talk about you.
I feel like Job. I mean YOU feel like Job. Wait. YOU mean YOU feel like Job. Geeze. This is going to be harder than I thought. YOU thought.
Forget this!
ME ME ME ME ME ME ME!
PART ONE
The setting: Café Tomorrow. Me and Psycholofork are sitting at a table with cups of coffee.
Me: I like New York. I really do. The thing is, it's dang expensive. The other thing is, I've come to feel that I no longer want/need that fabled New York acting career that, till now, had been my sorta vague goal the past several years.
Psycholofork: Okay. That's very reasonable. Lots of people, once they've lived here and tasted a bit of what brought them here in the first place, decide that maybe the grass they thought was greener actually has a sign that says "Don't walk on the lawn" and you'll wind up being fined for stepping on it.
Me: That's very vivid.
Psycholofork: Yes. And it's true.
Me: I haven't stepped on grass since...October, I think.
Psycholofork: What about Central Park?
Me: You're not allowed on the grass.
Psycholofork: Shows you what I know. All right. Let's work with your statement about New York. What do you feel your choices are?
Me: That's the problem. I feel like I have a zillion choices and everyone's telling me to do one thing and not the other. And I'm starting to get worried that instead of making a decision, I'm going to sit here and wait for the decision to make itself.
Psycholofork: Interesting.
Me: Yeah. I could stay or go, I guess. I mean, in the end, one of those things is gonna happen, right?
Psycholofork: Exactly. This is very good. You're doing very well.
Me: Thanks.
Psycholofork: We can work with this. This is excellent. Now then, let's start with your "staying here" options, shall we?
Me: Okay.
Psycholofork: Let's say you stay in New York for another year. Tell me--imagine for me--how would that play out?
Me: I can see it going two ways.
(Fork enters wearing wrinkle-resistant kakhis and a polo shirt. He has a backpack over his shoulder)
Fork: Good morning, Barista Betty.
Betty: Good morning, Fork. The usual? Half-decaf?
Fork: That's right. Don't want to get addicted. (hands Betty a Café Tomorrow gift card)
Betty: Oh, that's a cute gift card. Where'd you get it?
Fork: From my mother. In Texas.
Betty: Oh, I love it. I collect them, you know.
Fork: Oh, that's cool. You can have this one when I'm done with it.
Betty: Oh thanks! That's so sweet. And here you go. Regular size half decaf with just a little room for non-fat milk. On your way to the office?
Fork: (jovial) Sure am! I'm ready to answer thousands of phone calls and shuffle piles of paper today! Look out world! Here I come!
Betty: That's so neat that you like what you do.
Fork: What do you do?
Betty: (sheepishly, self-effacing) I'm...an actress.
Fork: You are?
Betty: Yes.
Fork: Wow. That's--I used to be an actor.
Betty: Oh really?
Fork: Yeah. But I had to make rent. So... I sold my soul to corporate even though I swore I'd never do that again. (changing gears) But it's good. I mean, I love gadgets, y'know, like iPods and phones and stuff and those tend to be expensive, so... so it's good that I can get them.
Betty: Aw, but that's so sad that you don't get to act anymore. If I couldn't act again I'd just die.
Fork: Oh, I do. I just...don't. Much. I do some off-off Broadway things every now and then but... y'know.
Betty: But you came to New York to be an actor.
Fork: Yeah. I did.
Betty: Golly.
Fork: What?
Betty: That's the saddest thing I ever heard.
Me: How awful! I can't do that! I can't go legit! I can't go back to being an office admin! I already did it once and I swore I'd never go back! I'm 27! I have so much more to offer the world than to wrap myself up in another lame office environment!
Psycholofork: Now, now. Let's not lose our head. A panicked state can sometimes lead to rash decisions.
Me: (regaining composure) Yes. Yes.
Psycholofork: All right then. You mentioned things could go two ways. Let's examine the other way things could go.
Me: The other way I see things going is me staying on the path I'm already on.
To be continued...
Well, I've had it. From here on out, I'm going to shift my focus, something I should have done a long time ago. I'm only going to talk about you.
I feel like Job. I mean YOU feel like Job. Wait. YOU mean YOU feel like Job. Geeze. This is going to be harder than I thought. YOU thought.
Forget this!
ME ME ME ME ME ME ME!
PART ONE
The setting: Café Tomorrow. Me and Psycholofork are sitting at a table with cups of coffee.
Me: I like New York. I really do. The thing is, it's dang expensive. The other thing is, I've come to feel that I no longer want/need that fabled New York acting career that, till now, had been my sorta vague goal the past several years.
Psycholofork: Okay. That's very reasonable. Lots of people, once they've lived here and tasted a bit of what brought them here in the first place, decide that maybe the grass they thought was greener actually has a sign that says "Don't walk on the lawn" and you'll wind up being fined for stepping on it.
Me: That's very vivid.
Psycholofork: Yes. And it's true.
Me: I haven't stepped on grass since...October, I think.
Psycholofork: What about Central Park?
Me: You're not allowed on the grass.
Psycholofork: Shows you what I know. All right. Let's work with your statement about New York. What do you feel your choices are?
Me: That's the problem. I feel like I have a zillion choices and everyone's telling me to do one thing and not the other. And I'm starting to get worried that instead of making a decision, I'm going to sit here and wait for the decision to make itself.
Psycholofork: Interesting.
Me: Yeah. I could stay or go, I guess. I mean, in the end, one of those things is gonna happen, right?
Psycholofork: Exactly. This is very good. You're doing very well.
Me: Thanks.
Psycholofork: We can work with this. This is excellent. Now then, let's start with your "staying here" options, shall we?
Me: Okay.
Psycholofork: Let's say you stay in New York for another year. Tell me--imagine for me--how would that play out?
Me: I can see it going two ways.
(Fork enters wearing wrinkle-resistant kakhis and a polo shirt. He has a backpack over his shoulder)
Fork: Good morning, Barista Betty.
Betty: Good morning, Fork. The usual? Half-decaf?
Fork: That's right. Don't want to get addicted. (hands Betty a Café Tomorrow gift card)
Betty: Oh, that's a cute gift card. Where'd you get it?
Fork: From my mother. In Texas.
Betty: Oh, I love it. I collect them, you know.
Fork: Oh, that's cool. You can have this one when I'm done with it.
Betty: Oh thanks! That's so sweet. And here you go. Regular size half decaf with just a little room for non-fat milk. On your way to the office?
Fork: (jovial) Sure am! I'm ready to answer thousands of phone calls and shuffle piles of paper today! Look out world! Here I come!
Betty: That's so neat that you like what you do.
Fork: What do you do?
Betty: (sheepishly, self-effacing) I'm...an actress.
Fork: You are?
Betty: Yes.
Fork: Wow. That's--I used to be an actor.
Betty: Oh really?
Fork: Yeah. But I had to make rent. So... I sold my soul to corporate even though I swore I'd never do that again. (changing gears) But it's good. I mean, I love gadgets, y'know, like iPods and phones and stuff and those tend to be expensive, so... so it's good that I can get them.
Betty: Aw, but that's so sad that you don't get to act anymore. If I couldn't act again I'd just die.
Fork: Oh, I do. I just...don't. Much. I do some off-off Broadway things every now and then but... y'know.
Betty: But you came to New York to be an actor.
Fork: Yeah. I did.
Betty: Golly.
Fork: What?
Betty: That's the saddest thing I ever heard.
Me: How awful! I can't do that! I can't go legit! I can't go back to being an office admin! I already did it once and I swore I'd never go back! I'm 27! I have so much more to offer the world than to wrap myself up in another lame office environment!
Psycholofork: Now, now. Let's not lose our head. A panicked state can sometimes lead to rash decisions.
Me: (regaining composure) Yes. Yes.
Psycholofork: All right then. You mentioned things could go two ways. Let's examine the other way things could go.
Me: The other way I see things going is me staying on the path I'm already on.
To be continued...
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