The Most Rewarding Moment in Recent Memory

A few days ago, I told myself that if I found A Musical History of Disneyland in a store, the next day I would listen to the whole thing without skipping any of the tracks while I cleaned my room.

Well, yesterday, I found it. I dropped the $100 I had as a Christmas present on it without thinking. It was the happiest purchase I can remember doing myself.

And like I promised to myself, today I cleaned my room while listening to it. In fact, I cleaned areas that haven't been touched since 1993! Somewhere around the audio track for the Tarzan Treehouse, I had to open the doors to my room to let in some air. At great risk of being told to turn down my music, I opened a window to help the dust flow out. Thankfully, nobody minded that I was literally blaring the audio from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride as if I was watching the movie in full Dobly surround.

I found a lot of treasures in my room. Old address books with no addresses in them, sketch pads that were falling apart with drawings from a time I forgot about, even a fan fiction I was righting once upon a time. I even found, much to my shock, evidence that I had a mullet when I was younger!

When the dust was cleared and everything put back in a more organized space, I realized that I finished three hours before the last track in the box set was to play. So, I tended to my laundry.

As time past on and as the music got closer and closer to the audio track for their 50th anniversary fireworks show, I found myself getting more and more excited in the most uncontrollable way. When the track finally started to play, I was in another place. I closed my eyes and saw everything I saw on any of the videos of the attraction at the real Disneyland. I felt this strange sense of pure, magical joy that I don't ever remember having felt before. I found myself smiling just because the track was playing loud than I would ever be able to hear it in my lifetime!

It was heaven. Pure and simple.

When the CD finally ended, I sat there in the stillness of my clean room. I looked around, got up, and then placed the CD back in its proper place. As I left the room to come here, I realized what I had just experienced.

I've never had a more rewarding moment in my life than what just happened no more than 25 minutes ago. And I wanted to share that with you few that read this.

Something Odd and Unexpected

My sister told me to get on AIM so she could send me something, but I got something I didn't expect as a result of her request.

A short time after getting my sister's IM, another window came up. It was from Josh. My hands ran cold, and I got a knot in my stomach that made the gases inside me feel like poisonous substances. I couldn't feel anything below my hip and found my eyes to be straining as I read the screen name. In short, I was nervous and scared for my life.

This has been the first time in two or three long years that I've talked to them. At that moment, I couldn't help but feel very apprehensive.

The conversation started out innocent enough, but slowly the doubt and my feelings for them came to the foreground. I told them flat out my concerns that I posted here recently. Eventually, I had to stop myself, apologizing at least three times, having lost myself to the doubt. Josh said that he doesn't think there is a way to change my mind, to make me believe they are for real. I know better. I know he is smarter than me and knows how to fix things. He just won't act on it for whatever reasons he may have.

With that out in the open, you would think that would be the end of it. I frustrated the hell out of Josh, and if all goes like it has been, that should have been that. Surprisingly, it wasn't.

I asked Josh one question to prevent me from losing it again: Was I missed? Apparently, I was missed by nearly everyone. In one fashion or another, I would come up in conversation. They wondered what the hell happened to me. They thought that since I've been gone for so long from AIM that the screen name was probably deleted. Same thing for the e-mail address I gave them. Ironically, they didn't check this place, or they would have known what the deal was with me for the last few years.

Even now while I time this, the idea that they actually missed me when I could have sworn the didn't give a damn about me just feels awkward. I like the fact that I made such an impression on them to the point where after this long they miss me, but I've never really been missed by anyone. At least anyone that I put emotion towards. It's a new sensation that my lonely mind is having a hard time grasping. The attention whore, however, loves it and is living it up right now.

The conversation then pretty much came to an end as abruptly as it started. As usual, Josh had business to tend to, but he made sure to tell me to IM one of the others if I see them online. Provided they don't IM me first when they see me. I wished him a Merry Christmas, and with that, he signed out.

In looking back at this, I really wish my emotions and doubt didn't manifest in the way they did. I can't help feel like I insulted him when all he wanted to do was just say hello and catch up. But, this is Josh I was talking to. For someone that used to be so animate about not liking me to say that he has no grudge against me seems out of character to me. Then again, it has been a long time since I talked to him, so who knows what changes may have happened. Maybe that Golden Heart Dan told me about is now being worn on Josh's sleeve.

Now that I think about it, I wish I went about the conversation another way. Confronting Josh like that was completely uncalled for and rude. Stupid emotions, why is it you have to get in the way all the time just because I'm an artist? Where is my common sense when I need it?

Christmas Rant

I haven't had a reflective rant in a while, so I might as well let my conciousness flow and see what happens.

For starters, with my sister home, my social inatiquacies are brought more and more into the foreground. Being a dreamer and an imagineer (for lack of a better description), I don't think that I'm very much compatible with the social world. In fact, it's hard enough trying to get it into my head that I'm not selling my soul every time I look for a job when I feel like I am. The lines are clearly marked and run deep as to who is the better of the two of us. While I sit in bed with my eyes closed trying to escape a reality I hate and cannot conform or shape, my sister is becoming what she calls a local celebrity.

I don't know why I can't continue dreaming. Compromise doesn't seem to be much of an option. It's probably why I feel the way I do when the idea of looking for a job hits the forehead of my gray matter. I have yet to see any kind of proof where I dreamer can work in a capitalistic world and still do what they do best. Well, outside of Walt Disney, but even his biography borders on the fantastic more than non-fiction.

And people wonder why nutcases like me spend countless hours on the computer playing games. It isn't because we are lazy; it's because we can't deal with reality.

In the video games, I can actually enjoy the effort it takes to get from one point to another. Hell, in the online games that run on a capitalistic idea, I don't mind doing what is considered work for the money you need. It could be in the form of playing a game, but at least it is enjoyable and I don't have to deal with people that will ultimately make me want to rip their heads off. Well, most of the time. Oh, how I wish life was like a video game, but alas, I have better sense. Life is not a video game, and if it is, you only get one life and there are no save points.

I don't know, maybe I'm being selfish. But then again, how can I be selfish when this past few weeks with little to no thought I bought so many Christmas gifts almost impulsively without thinking about price. I mean, my sister's gift alone costed me $100. When you total up the other gifts I bought for the rest of the family, I spent a total of $200 on just four people. I could have been very cheap on the matter and double up on gifts for my parents or even pay for half like what I did last year. But no, I actually spent money knowing full well that I didn't have enough to begin with. Even my sister said that my gifts blow the ones she got out of the water! At least the ones I told her about. Maybe I'm looking for credit where credit isn't due. After all, I don't like how this holiday brings out the worst in people while bringing out the best in others. So who's to say that my gifts are not selfish?

Oh, what I wouldn't give to just be an artist and nothing but with the ability to create and learn how to create the things I want.

I want to say that it's been four years or more since I last talked to the boys, but I'm no longer sure. The emotions are still there event though the events are getting foggy. And even now, I'm not even sure they were ever real to begin with. For all I know, my naiveity took over and want to make them real. But if they weren't, what did I put so much emotion into? A fantasy? Some kind of sick joke? I'm not bitter so much as I am more careful these days. Just in need of closure that I know I won't get. It's probably why I'm so hesitant now to move on so many of my crushes, why I'm afraid to love. I don't want the same thing to happen again. I don't want to think that there is something there when there may not be anything at all.

Why am I bringing this up again? Of the people that I've talked about this to, the few that I trust to actually drop their real name, everyone has said that they were jerks. Even I know they were jerks towards me. Completely heartless, self-absorbed, egotistical, sheltered, perverted, sex-hungry, ignorant, incestual, foul-mouthed bunch of dicks up a son of a bitch's ass if I wanted to be nice with the insults. Yet the emotion is still there wanting to die and move on. I guess I'm attracted to pretty people that will treat me like shit. Presuming they are real, of course.

I think I just answered why it is so hard for me to act on my crushes. So why is it still a mystery to me?

Since the end of the semester, I've been wanting someone in my bed. Not for sex, but someone to cuddle with. The shallow side of me wants someone beautiful and with a very nice body. The deeper side of me wants someone that is accepting to the fact that I argue about stupid things, have insecurities out the ying-yang, and is overall just a big baby in the body of a 22-year-old college student. I have yet to have a dream about this person, but I know my comfort pillows have lost all their fluff as a result of me constantly waking up in the morning hugging them.

Okay, now I'm getting into trivial stuff.

I don't feel like spell checking. Half of the words I would need a spell check to would just come back as not being found in the dictionary anyway.

I just realized something.

I didn't claim my T-Square from the school when I was cleaning out my studio space. Oh well, I could never get a decent right-angle from it anyway.

Christian Christmas and Heathen Holidays

Something has been bothering me about this holiday season for a while now, and I feel the need to address the issue... again.

Recently, I posted another entry explaining my distaste for how ignorant some people are about the history of Christmas as a major holiday. To be perfectly honest, I don't care anymore if a person believes whatever they want to believe about the holiday.

I'm just getting sick and tired of people saying that some group of people somewhere are pushing religion out of Christmas because Wal-Mart decided to greet people by saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas." I'm also not buying into the claim that people are calling Christmas Trees "Holiday Trees."

You have no idea how much this pisses me off. For nearly 11 months out of the year with probably only a weekend to give thanks for being alive, someone somewhere is hating someone else. There is always some group, religious or cultural, that is offended by some other group for some stupid reason. And the only escape used to be this time of year. At least in this country.

But now? No. Every time I turn on the local radio to listen to Christmas music, I hear some religious Public Service Announcement saying that they should boycott this store because they are doing this to take Christ out of Christmas. I know it's a minority, but do you think the people that celebrate Kwanza are this bitchy about the holiday season? Hell, none of the Jewish people are upset about this whole "Christ out of Christmas" crap so far as I have heard!

If I could be a holiday special, my Christmas wish would be for everyone to just get off their high horse and celebrate the season for what it is. A time where people can for one month out of the year can get along with everyone even if they fucking hate their guts because they did something stupid like ran over their puppy. I just want the Christians that celebrate Christmas being about Christ's birth to do that. I want the people that think Christmas is about Santa and presents to do that. I wan the people that celebrate Kwanza to do that. I want people that don't have anything to give or get on Christmas to not feel like complete losers. In other words, I just want people to leave everyone else well enough alone and stop trying to make people celebrate the holiday they way they thing the other people should celebrate it.

I guess that's just asking too much, however, so I guess I'll just stick to asking for a Digital SLR Camera. People are never going to leave others alone when they are offended by something as stupid as how they practice Christmas. It's just human nature to try to conform everyone to their way of thinking an nobody else's. Very few people are as open minded as they claim they are.

Myself? I just have the curiosity of a cat but the attention span of a small rodent.

Talkative or Something More?

Tonight, I had to do a presentation as part of my final for 20^th Century Art History. Tonight, I found out that I talk to much.

Now I don't want to cause some kind of social stir or create another sign of what to look for in a socially inept person, but I do have a strange sense of logic as to why.

I don't talk much as it is already. I'm talkative, yes, but not very socialible. And if my sister is in the same room with me? Forget trying to get a word in, because I'm not going to be able to.

When I do talk, I seem to ramble on about things that are not important. I try to keep the conversation going. In short, I can't shut the hell up. I've been told this various times by people that obviously got annoyed with me talking. I can see it in their faces and how their body language is. It makes me uncomfortable, so I shut up as a favor to them.

But I want to talk. I want to be heard. I want to feel like my voice is actually being listened to, yet I always seem to end up chewing off an ear and a half when I get the chance.

I don't know why I think this, but I believe this is a sign of some kind of social repression. Then again, knowing how I think, everything is some kind of repression.

Maybe I'm bipolar and don't know it.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Review

In the words of my sister, "that was a rough movie." And to be perfectly honest, it is. But what a ride!

For those of you that haven't been keeping up with the franchise, The Goblet of Fire is the fourth movie out of seven in the series. The cast that we have all come to love and grow up with have matured to the point where they would be considered to be in their high school years. Year Four at Hogwarts is celebrated by the announcement that the school of Potter will be host to the Triwizard Tournament. However, something fowl is afoot. And this part of the story marks the start of the real story arch, the part that most of us have been waiting for.

The main cast of characters are definitely showing development in their acting skills. Harry finally comes off as the awkward teenager he is suppose to be. At this point in his character development, he feels comfortable in his magical abilities, but still very much out of place. Ron finally gets a little more rounded out, as a jealous streak you can drive a truck on appears in his character. He still plays the bumbling fool, however, which he apparently has perfected. Hermione is still the brains of the trio, but that role has been played down by a thousand fold. I don't know how to word this exactly, but let's just say she is becoming quite the fine female lead.

The story, from my understanding, has been trimmed down to just the events involving the tournament and the return of Lord Voldemort. This is a good thing, as it helps set a nice and steady pace for the story. The nearly three-hour time of this movie seems to go by unnoticed. Several alterations have been made as well, mostly in the form of cutting out and replacing characters at key points in the story.

There are three scenes to look out for. The first involves Harry's battle with a dragon. The special effects department has had some practice with this between the last movie and this one in the form of a fictional documentary for the Animal Planet channel, and the hard work in that program shows in this perfectly executed realization of the famous mythical beast of the sky. Definitely a not-to-be-missed seen. The second is the Yule Ball, which plays out kind of like the cast's first prom. The reason to keep an eye out for this scene is the fashion, particularly on the guys end when they display their formal wizards robe. Except for the one Ron has on, I, like most fashion conscious men, probably would want to invest in one or something similar for your next formal outing. The last scene to keep an eye out for is the return of Lord Voldemort. Without spoiling too much, let's just say that when this scene ends, you will not be looking at this franchise the same way again. With this single scene, the entire mood of the story changes in a way very few films have been able to achieve.

Surprisingly, for a fantasy-based film, the special effects are not all that important. They are there, and some of the scenes they are used in are nice to look at. But generally, they are the kind of special effects fans of the franchise and of fantasy films in general have come to expect. The only effect that impressed me was a wizard's duel late in the film where the two beams of spell meet in a clash causing what appeared to be molten metal to spew from the impact area the longer the spells fought with each other.

The music for the film wasn't as magical, and at times unnoticed. If I had to guess, it probably had something to do with the fact John Williams isn't in charge of the film's music anymore. A shame, too. With the Harry Potter theme being so recognizable, I was hoping for an iconic Lord Voldemort theme to make its debut, similar to the Empire's March in the Star Wars films. But, alas, it was not meant to be.

As far as the franchise goes, this is probably the best movie so far. For those that have no idea what the series is about and generally don't want to learn what happened the last three movies, the movie also does a pretty good job of supplying all the key elements and facts that are needed for the story to make sense. However, unless your children have read the book and are not traumatized by concepts like death and the practical embodiment of all things evil, parents may want to see the movie first before bringing the little ones.

It can only get better from here on out, people. We are done with the appetizer, and now we are going straight into the main course.

Celebrate Holiday Ignorance

It's the holiday seasons, and for some reason I'm not really enjoying it for one simple reason. And no, it isn't my family this time.

It's all religion's fault.

How did this come about, you may ask? Someone either was asking an innocent question or was being an idiot. Basically, Gaia Online is setting up for their yearly Christmas event. This year, we got to get a peak into Gaia's Santa's past. Apparently, when he was a little man, he was beaten up by the Easter Bunny for reasons unknown. Bunny's gang had several holiday icons in it, some global and some cultural. Well, after this went live, someone asked where Jesus was in this whole mess. Site veterans explained how religion doesn't belong on Gaia Online's holiday events, as the site is a global one and not all the users believe in God or in the religion of Christianity. Someone replied to this saying that the reason why we have Christmas and Easter is because of Jesus. The intellectuals then popped in and pointed out that the holidays were assimilated and appropriated over history. Well, enter the people that believe everything in The Bible is fact and absolute.

You can see where I'm going with this.

Why do the holidays have to be about religion? Don't get me wrong. I think it's all fine and dandy for you and your family to celebrate the holidays with whatever religion you are a part of. But why is it that some people feel like their religion is more important than others for one reason or another? I mean, these are the things that start wars. This is also the reason why nobody learns anything past "that's just how it's always been."

Very few people know anything about the history of their religion or their holidays. They know the why's of some of the major ones and maybe even some of the how's, but I seriously doubt many people know the history of how this holiday got this date on the calendar and why it's been that way for centuries on end. I'm not saying that nobody knows, because like I said earlier, there are people that know. I'm not one of them. I don't even know the history of my own family. Then again, nobody has bothered to even teach me let alone tell me short of a few anticdotes here and there.

As a matter of personal opinion, the holidays are no longer about what they were. Easter is no longer about the alignment of the stars and sun in the Spring, and is more about giving out pastel candies and dressing all cute. Even Jesus rising from the dead takes a back seat to the bunny and chickens that dominate the holiday. Halloween is no longer a day about the dead so much as it is about candy begging and dressing up. Come to think of it, I don't think I was ever told or read why All Hallows Eve was considered scary originally outside of that's when ghosts and spirits were allowed to come back to life for one night. Even that reasoning is hard for me to grasp as logical. The witch burnings made more sense to me than this.

And now for the subject of Christmas. What is this holiday really about now? Decorations? Gifts? Giving charity? Santa? Jesus? At this point, I personally don't know. A part of me actually just doesn't care. Humanity's mental safe haven of religion has screwed up everything about the season. Combine that with elements of capitalism, and you can see why the holidays are so special. It's probably the only time of year where we collectively as a society celebrate our own ignorance by quietly pushing our own beliefs on everyone through the Dradle song and the Silent Night carol to the point where we don't give a damn. Sure, some of us get offended by it, but as soon as someone gives us that shiny new XBox360, we immediately forget about it. Capitalism and materialism cancel out religious offenses in our country. Now that's real holiday magic.

Mystery Gifts

I have a puzzle on my hands right now that I know is impossible to solve unless there are more clues given.

For the second time this semester, have found a little toy in my student mail box in line of what I like. For example, the first toy I found was a Cruela de Vil wobbler from those Kellogg's promotions. It was in pretty good shape, too.

Today, I found a McDonald's Hello Kitty Happy Meal toy just sitting there nice and all innocent in my mail box. It was slightly beat up, with evidence that it's hit the ground more than a few times.

That's all I have to go on. The time frame between each was about two weeks, and there was no note or anything that would hint to someone leaving these behind as some kind of gift. I told this to one student, and she thought I may have a secret admirer. But who would leave beat up kid toys as a gift from a secret admirer?

Well, needless to say, this mystery may never be solved. I do like the attention I'm getting, however, but at the same time my curiosity is killing me as to who is doing this.

Oh well, the fun is in the mystery.

Nov. 13th, 2005 - The Entry With No Title

A myriad of thoughts have been flowing through my head as of late, mostly due to the fact that it is that time of the semester when teachers and students alike freak out due to a lack of time. Teacher freak out due to the fact that they may or may not have gone over the material they wanted to the semester; students freak out due to the fact that the big part of their grade is about to be due soon or they haven't studied for the final exam. Either way, my brain is overly active right now.

I should be doing my homework right now, but most of the stuff I actually care about is in the studios over at the school. Being unable to drive, I am pretty much out of luck in doing any kind of extra work short of finalizing an idea in my sketchbook. Even then, I can't really do much as far as producing the art I want to. Thankfully, I have a five hour break between classes, something I haven't been exploiting to its fullest. I guess you can pretty much safely assume what and where I'll be during that time slot.

There is one final that I'm not to keen about. I seriously do not like how World Civilization is going for me right now. I'm doing fine as far as my grades go. I just hate the material. For example, due after Thanksgiving is an essay comparing and contrasting two different writers on slavery in America. As important as I know this topic is to the past and ultimately our future, I'm getting tired of being forced to read and recite the same information over and over again since middle school. You would think that I would get more information about the topic being in college, but in reality, I'm not. The only things I'm getting more information about as far as subject matter goes are those that fall into my major. I can only assume that's how it works in most colleges. If not, then my teacher has obviously checked out of his class before it even started.

Speaking of people checking out, a new and somewhat unexpected crush came into being at the worst time possible. After pretty much taking my time snooping around, I found out that one of the cuter freshmen is gay. The thing is, he's very unapproachable provided he doesn't feel comfortable around people, which pretty much means everyone he doesn't know anything about. Makes it difficult for him to make friends, no? Well, what few friends he has have been trying to talk him out of the film department. See, in order to be successful in film, you need to be able to work well with others. It doesn't matter if you are in script writing, directing, or doing something as boring as being a grip. You still have to be a team player. This guy doesn't seem to have that in him. What is in him is a natural talent for the visual medium of the fine arts. Those that talk to him have been trying to get him to switch majors, but for some reason he doesn't believe he can do that. Ironically, it is this lack of socializing that made him have an emotional break down from what I gathered. He skipped the rest of the semester as a result of that.

It sucks for me, since the day he left was also the day I started to like him. I have some really bad luck, don't I?

We'll see what happens if he comes back next semester. Hopefully something exciting and worth sharing.

Mom's Computer Shelf Project

I spent the better part of the day constructing and hooking up a new computer shelf (it is technically a media shelf for things like radios and CD players). Right now, I'm just testing to see if everything works. Which, obviously, they do.

It's strange. This is the second time I can remember my mind just shutting off as I was doing some kind of work similar to an assembly line. The first time being when I was in Sculpture 1 back in the spring.

At first, when my mother brought this thing home, I was expecting to do all the technical parts of the project. You know, disconnect the computer, reconnected it, bitch, moan, and otherwise complain about how that piece of furniture wasn't needed because the old system worked fine.

And true to my nature, I did just that.

Eventually, after some procrastination on my dad's part, I ended up helping him start the assembly process. Then he left with my mom to go to church. A part of me wanted to just leave the project out of sheer spite for what was expected from me. Several hours earlier, my mother wanted me to take pictures of the lawn when she was more than capable herself. This while I was disconnecting everything on this machine. That added with the pent up anger of what a VMK buddy of mine calls "a simple request that invades your sense of independence" (like I have any) just made me wish she was dead.

But I didn't leave the cabinet there with only the drawer rails screwed into the interior of what was going to be bottom. I wanted to, but I couldn't. It was strange, but a part of me that I never knew about just took over and I started building this thing that holds the computer right now. Slowly at first, but then eventually everything became second nature.

I didn't care about what my mom said earlier. I didn't care that I was the only one putting the shelf together. I didn't even care about the fact that I have more important things to do with my time than build a shelf I didn't care anything about.

I just kept building it to the point where all that was left was to nail in some paper backing to the drawer part of the shelf's bottom. And that was the easy part, which I left to my dad. At that point, I was working for about two straight hours with no break. I needed a break.

After all was said and done, we found a problem with the drawer. It wouldn't close the right way, which meant something was wrong with either the alignment or the drawer itself. Turned out to be the drawer's guide rail on the interior of the cabinet portion. Damn holes were pre-drilled too high, so it made everything off centered. I ended up fixing it using super glue my mom keeps for her craft projects. Now I just hope the drawer doesn't fuck up some time between now and when Mom puts stuff in it.

Then, about half a hour before I started blogging this, I put everything back together as best as I could given the space requirements for each piece of equipment. I'm going to have to explain why I put the scanner on the top open shelf instead of on the shelf where the printer is, however. (It's so we can scan books when we need to without bending the binding some stupid way so we don't risk damaging the book.)

My mom jokingly asked what I wanted when she saw I had finished about 95% of her project. (She never does do her own work when it comes to these kind of things. She likes to get her hands dirty only with clean projects like floral arrangements and cleaning the house. She'd never touch a tool unless she has to.) I said nothing in reply. She kept squealing like some mother of a 4^th grader for about five minutes. I can only wonder how she is going to react when she sees the mess downstairs is pretty much cleaned up. Not to mention the fact that I did all that work putting the shelf back where she wanted it and how she wanted all the technology arranged. At least for the most part.

One thing still bothers me, however. How the hell did I end up with so many extra screws? I mean, I followed the directions to the letter! I should only end up with one extra shelf and four pairs of supporters for that shelf. But apparently I have an extra small screw and another set of longer screws that I used to join the walls of the drawer together.

Good Sign or Bad Sign?

This week so far has been really odd. I mean, just completely odd.

For starters, in my student mail box I got Halloween candy on Monday. While this isn't an odd thing in general, it was rather nice and rather unexpected. But that wasn't the only thing I found in my mail box.

The next day I found a Cruella De Vil wobbler in my mail box. I don't know who gave it to me, but someone obviously knows of me and knows what I like. I really appreciate that little random act for the fact that it gave me a smile that morning.

Today, one of the mothers in my Painting I class brought in left over Halloween candy she didn't want. I looked through it and found several batches of candy that I liked, so I said that I would take it off her hands if it didn't disappear by the end of class. The candy didn't, and as such, I took the candy.

Then my mom calls up and says she has time to have lunch with me before my next class. I told her I wanted to check out this Gay-Straight Alliance thing the school is putting together. Well, not directly, I just said "this thing" to describe it. She sounded disappointed, but I told her that it will probably end by 13:00 due to all the classes.

The thing is, I didn't really go. I found the room, I looked at it and all that good stuff, but I didn't bother staying. I just left. There was just something inside my head saying that my general purpose for wanting to go wouldn't be a good reason to attend GSA. Basically, I wanted to go because I wanted to meet other gay guys that attend the school. I realized at the last second that this method does not and probably will not work for me. Furthermore, for someone that has said that he has given up the whole dating game scene, to go to GSA for that reason alone would just show how much of a habitual liar I am, if not how much of an ass I am. And if not those two, the how much I am in need to get laid.

Besides, I'm not so much an activist as I am a bitcher.

So, here I am. I have a student mail box full of candy, a Disney villain wobbler among my collection of various toys, and surprisingly no class tomorrow due to a sudden loss of my teacher's family friend. And it's only been two days into the month!

You can tell it's finals season, can't you?

What did I dream last night?!

Some time in our era, scientists and star gazers found a meteor that got caught in Earth's atmosphere. At first, it didn't appear to be much of a threat. It continued to burn brightly as it orbited the planet for many generations. Eventually, it was even looked upon as a gift and a granter of wishes.

The scientists took advantage of this and made several studies as carefully as they could on the giant rock. That's how they made their most startling discovery. The rock's material was not burning away. It was changing in the heat. It was made up of a mysterious compound that slowly was turning radioactive as it generated more and more heat in the atmosphere.

That's when the mathematicians stepped in and delivered the worst news of all. The meteor was going to crash. Using all of their skill possible, they found out that the meteor in orbit around the planet was not really stuck at all but on a downward spiral. It's landing place would come to be known only as District Six.

Word got out to the people of District Six as well as the surrounding areas. Families fled to other locations in a hope to get away from what could be the next world disaster. Prisoners and free men, the rich and the poor, the homeless and the working. They all were moved somewhere outside of District Six until it was nothing more but a ghost town.

Everyone had plenty of time to escape, but all did it prematurely. The meteor was not to crash for several decades. And during that time, the town slowly began to grow new life. A generation of doomed people. The scientists tried to warn them, but their studies fell on deaf ears. The people said that they were wrong in their calculations, basing their logic on an old science.

Then, one night, the sky didn't turn black when the sun set. It turned red. It stayed red well into the night. Curious as to why this was happening, many of the people living in District Six looked to the stars for an answer. They soon found it in a blinding flash of light. District Six was vaporized upon impact.

There were very few survivors of what would be known as The Red Sky Event. Those that lived just outside of the blast zone were left homeless and ill. The environment changed dramatically, forcing both animals and humans back into a nomadic way of life. Eventually, those with more brains than guts rediscovered agriculture through a new science. Small establishments were made where there was some kind of raw material that The Red Sky Event created, be it acid rain or sulfuric snow.

And eventually, war began as well. The people grow greedy. They wanted the power supply of every other establishment that figured out how to be self-sufficient. The nomads that were still living at the time did not want any part of this war. But unfortunately two young boys didn't have a choice.

It was common practice to raid the camps of the nomads by one group of people that found a way to use the unprotected star light at night as a source of energy. They were combatants of the skies, and they were good. Their troops were near infinite in numbers thanks in part to a discovery by a local doctor who found a way to rewrite the memories and motives in the human brain using the unprotected star light. It was only a matter of time before the two brother's camp was raided.

That night, two brothers slept in a tent. But in the morning, only one of them would walk up in the same tent. The other ended up being brain washed for military purposes.

As the war raged on between all those that found a source of power, the planet slowly began to die off. It got to the point where people were no longer fighting for more energy sources. They were fighting to stay alive. That's when they introduced a new weapon of massive and indiscriminate distruction. The Starlight Cannon. Propagated as the next atom bomb, this cannon collected and stored energy for the stars to be fired at anyone or anything with an accuracy of a sniper. It could wipe out entire towns as well as individual people. And it was attached to one of the two brother's left arm. The brother who was captured in the raid of the nomad those many years ago. Before the height of the war. Before he ended up fighting his long lost and forgotten brother.

Herbie: Fully Loaded Review

I'll be honest. I didn't expect much from this movie. I'm not really a fan of several of the things Disney is doing with some of their more iconic stars and franchises. (I'm still reeling in pain at the fact they made a Cinderella 2 movie.) But I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised with this offering from them.

It's been several decades since Herbie was first introduced to the world as the little bug that could, and since then he's been having a bit of a slump. After living up the high life that is pretty much the stereotype of what people think being famous is all about, Herbie has lost all of what makes him great to the point where he had to get a job as a taxi just to stay running. Which ultimately doesn't work anyways, since the first thing we see Herbie do is trying to escape a scrap yard.

Meanwhile, Maggie Peyton (Lisndsay Lohan) has graduated from college, the first in her family's history. Her family history, speaking of which, is in racing. She loves to race, but she prefers the illegal kind of street racing, which becomes more and more apparent as the film moves on. Her father (Michael Keaton) tries his best to protect and provide for her, which is why he brings her to a junk yard to pick out a new car in the classic good-hearted Dad faux pas we've come to just accept in films and shows today.

Incidentally, this is how Herbie and Maggie meet. From there on, it's just one fun ride through a plot that offers a lot of interesting twists and turns.

I don't care if you like Lohan or not; she was actually pretty good in this movie. She played the role of a Nascar kid growing up in what appears to be some utopian city full of car lovers really well. Yes, the fact that her character is suppose to be a college graduate and her acting reads as if she is a high school graduate is nothing that can be over looked. But this is a movie about a car's relationship to a driver. Despite his lack of screen time, Herbie is the real star.

I liked how they introduced Herbie to the generation that has no real memory of him. I feel fortunate that I grew up watching bits and pieces of the old Herbie movies, and smiled widely when I saw several of my favorite scenes from the hold franchise. It was probably one of the best opening sequences I've seen. Like with the Spider-Man 2 opening, you don't need to know what happened before after you watch this sequence.

I think one of the more surprising actors in this movie, for me at least, was Michael Keaton. I didn't expect him to play the part of a Nascar Racing dad, but he does it very well. He looks, sounds, and even acts the part! For a while, I honestly thought he was someone that I knew or bumped into somewhere in Nashville.

The special effects in the film are kind of a mixed bag. Those with a keen eye will notice something that could be seen as a throw-back but probably will be scene as a poor job. What I mean is that some of the CG in the film was rendered in a way to make it look like the old Herbie films. There's no real thick and obvious black line around Herbie or Lohan on the scenes that I could see, but it's obvious they didn't blend things like lightning and shadows to make it look more realistic. I liked the look, but in this day and age were we have more realistic looking renderings of objects in films, most people would see this as sloppy.

The story is cute. It's about finding your direction in life and how something small could get you there fast. That's if you read into it like I did. For the most part, the story is entertaining and in the true style of Herbie films from what I remember. However, the direction and pace of the film did drag. At times, the story felt more like an experiment in how to write and film a story from the 60's and 70's.

The movie itself overall is pretty good. It's worth a rent at the least. It definitely surprised me as to how good it was. I was expecting it to just destroy the franchise, but who knows? Maybe we will end up seeing more of the Love Bug in the future. I just hope it isn't in a cheap and ultimately vain attempt at trying to make more money.

Where is my generation?

It's happening again.

I look around me and see people talking with people. They are into their conversations and enjoy the company of who they have talking to them. They all have something in common. They have some kind of interested that they can share their time with others on. They are all the same in one fashion or another.

And here I am. So different that I feel like I'm invading just by looking at them as they talk from a distance.

And here I am. Blogging again about something nobody wants to hear or cares about simply because I have nobody that will lend me their ear or their time to get it out of my system. At least nobody I can feel comfortable talk to that is somewhere in my generation's age range. I'm tried of talking to adults like I've been doing whenever something upsets me. For once, I wish there was something within my age range that would listen to me and not hate me afterwards for opening up and showing how messed up I am.

I'm tired, lonely, depressed, and stressed out over what will probably be nothing in the end. I want to believe that one day my prince will come, but I know I can't. I want to be able to at least have some kind of life that isn't based on working or something that I see as practically slavery sometimes when I feel like being insane. But right now, I'm tired. I feel alone, and that makes me really sad. Because right now, I need someone to hold me close and tell me things are going to be alright. But it doesn't look like I'll get that from anyone my age right now.

I guess I don't feel like I belong in this generation of youth in America. I'm not sure I even belong anywhere socially at this point.

No Sale

With Halloween about to wrap itself back up and the commercial Christmas making its presence ever known in do-it-yourself stores, various advertising departments have decided to start early this year to attract those out there that will drool and spend money on whatever they make look pretty.

Case and point, the Star Wars Episode III ads that are playing right now in preparation for their DVD's release.

The thing is, I'm not bothered by what will end up becoming an eternity of commercials between now and Thanksgiving. What bothers me is that I'm not affected by them.

The capitalistic world as we know it now doesn't really sit well with me anymore. Very rarely do I find a product that I know I'll get more for my buck. Something I can treasure or get a lot of use out of. If I were to make my Christmas list now like how all the ad companies want everyone to do, there would only be two items on the list. The Musical History of Disneyland Box Set and some kind of SLR Digital Camera. Expensive, yes, but cheaper than the grand total of what I wanted last year. (And a hell of a lot cleaner as far as content goes as well.) On top of that, those two are the only things I think I would get the most out of. If I was to buy the Star Wars DVD that is coming out, how many times would I watch it? There are DVDs sitting in my drawer that I haven't touched in well over a year. Hell, there's a set of DVDs in there I haven't watched more than once!

I guess it would be premature of me to say that I may be learning the value of a buck at this point. Most don't learn that until they work their asses off to the point where they are seen as respectable.

Ironically, give us just a few more decades and the US will become the source of cheap labor. Why? Well, there's this little thing called "The Number Gap." Long story short, once all the smart people in all the scientific field of work retired, the US will only have 1/3 of the number of innovators and inventors that they do now with some kind of creditable background, that isn't some hack trying to get rich quick. I've brought this subject up before; I know I have. When I have, I learned that our society is so left-brain oriented, that eventually it will be the creative ones that will take over. The ones that can produce things that the average person will eventually realize is worth more than what they are really investing in because it can never be reproduced. That's why in Japan, the source of our cheap labor for all those Happy Meal toys and anime shows, collecting art is a hobby that will pay off several fold over once they become the supreme commercial power in the capitalistic world of ours. After all, all the best products come from Asia now. Hell, some of the best cars come from Europe! What commercial product can you name that the US has made that is the best in the world? The only thing I can think of is being the world's supplier for food and weapons. Both of which we are slowly finding out are bad for us in one form or another.

But I'm ranting again.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I've come to a point in my life where I realize what is more important to me financially. I can enjoy what spoils of life that are free, like the free online video games I play provided I pay the monthly internet fee for example. Even now, I can enjoy what little privileges I have such as the fact I don't have to pay any bills at this point since I'm not working. But I don't think I'll be buying anything the commercial world wants me to any time soon. At least not anything I know I won't get any repeat value off of.

But the commercial world is tricky. They know how to make it sound like you need their product. So who knows. Maybe this is just me being premature again.

Movies From Austin (Part 4 of 4) - The Dark Crystal

Had to save the best for last. I've been a fan of the Jim Henson company for as long as I can remember. Probably for as long as I have been a Disney fan. As such, I consider Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal to be the company's best work as far as full length features go. Thing is, I never saw the movie in its entirety until just now.

Set in another time and place, the world of fantastic creatures in The Dark Crystal has been thrown out of balance. An evil race known as the Skeksis rape the land of natural resources and even defenseless people for their own selfish bidding. It is up to Jen, the last member of the Gelfling race, to fulfill a prophecy that, to be perfectly blunt about it, he has no clue as to why.

This is a classic story with characters from the peak of Muppet Technology. The character designs and sets are magical and very memorable. The kind that make people smile whenever they see something that looks like one of the races in the movie.

While pretty to look at, I found the plot to be rather long. This was filmed in a time where epics like Star Wars were bringing in the cash, but the story didn't really benefit from it. It did create some very beautiful scenes and several elements to make the characters feel real, but at the same time it made the film feel very long.

The art in the film is classic Henson, with vivid colors and characters with so much detail and life. You sometimes forget that you are watching puppets some of the times. I just wish they made the Gelfling race look a little more human. The ears, I don't mind. It's the nose that bothered me. However, the best character models would have to go the Skeksis. It's hard to believe that there was someone underneath all that fabric controlling what was suppose to be a vulture-like creature that was nothing but skin and bones. The race known as the Mystics come in at a very close second, mostly because they way they were built is in the classic two-person-puppet form that Henson made a staple of his company.

The music and acting could be better, but then again, given the time, it was still grand as it could be.

Like one person said on Gaia Online when I said I was going to watch this movie. "Dark Crystal is love!" There's something in this film for most everyone to enjoy.

Movies From Austin (Part 3 of 4) - Soylent Green

This is probably the only movie I had a hard time enjoying thanks in part to the many spoilers I was told about by the film students in my school. Then again, the only real spoiler is the ending.

Set in the year 2022, the planet Earth is pretty much left for dead. There are too many people, too much Global Warming, and not enough food for everyone. Those that can afford fresh food and water are the very rich and powerful. The poor are left with a product known as Soylent, each in a different color given their use. Some are used as energy, others as food substitutes. The most popular and highest in demand of the Soylents is Soylent Green. It is so widely wanted that if a supply should run out, riots happen. And apparently in this future, riots are contained and controlled by bull-dozer-like trucks known as "The Scoops," where unrulely citizens are lifted and then dumped into the truck never to be seen or heard from again. And most offending of all? Women are called "furniture" and are treated as such.

Kind of a bleak outlook on the future from the 1970's, huh?

What I found fascinating is how accurate some of the props from the future was. Notepads in the movie look similar to our modern PDAs and Blackberries. The Emergency Phone boxes that are used in the movie feature phones that look like the cell phones from several years ago. Not the bulky kind that is usually used to mock the invention when it first came out, but kind small enough to hide in your hand for the most part.

Ironically, they have an Atari cabinet in the movie, which one character calls a new toy. New to her, yes, but by our standards today, that item is a collectible. Probably something you wouldn't want to play as intensely as she was.

Plot wise, it starts off like a decent detective film. Some big shot got murdered and Charlton Heston's character is in charge of solving the case. When he gets too close, the rich people that pretty much control the world try to shut the case. While a solid plot in every respect, the tangents that they show have no purpose other than to flesh out the characters and give you a better sense of what the state of society is like in that particular future.

Overall, I don't know what to say about this movie. It has some nice social commentary that is relevant even now about the state of the economy, where the rich get pretty much everything and the poor are treated like fodder. It even has some implications to how women are still being treated today. But as far as being entertaining goes? I can't really say, mostly because the ending was spoiled for me. And when it actually did end, it didn't feel like the story really ended.

Oh well, gotta stumble upon bad movies once in a while, right?

Sick Perverted Bastard Am I

I came so close to getting into so much trouble today. It scared me.

Austin just got out of class, and because I'm a complete social dependent, I waited on him to hang out for a while. He asked me were the spray room was, and I lead him to it. That's when I nearly got myself in trouble.

The hallway leading to the spray room was darken. The reason was, according to Austin, that the electric bill was getting ridiculous, so in order to cut down on wattage, they removed several bulbs from areas of the school nobody goes to as often. Once in the spray room, I found myself closing the door behind myself and Austin.

Keep in mind that the spray room is actually just a five square-foot closet with a high-power ventilation fan at head level. There's also a table that takes up about half of the space for projects to rest on while being sprayed. So, yeah, there's not much space to move around.

Being in there alone with just him in an area of the school people rarely go to, I found myself getting hard rather suddenly. I wanted to just pounce on him. I had the urge to just throw myself all over him as he bent over looking at the spray cans left behind to find if any of them had any paint left in them. It was the most difficult time for me, because I knew I couldn't get away with it.

When he found a can with paint left, I asked him what he's going to use it for. He said he needed to touch up his pants, and I left the spray room as he tagged himself along his right pants leg.

I tried to get my mind off of what may have happened by looking at a discarded art piece someone did. Apparently, someone took the time to find and glue to a white wood panel several dozen Dum-Dum suckers in an arrangement that looked like a color spectrum. The fact that it was there help keep some of the tension of what my mind was going through off the subject until the ride home when I started to feel like a complete pervert.

I need to get laid to the point where sex is boring to me.

Movies From Austin (Part 2 of 4) - Plan 9 From Outer Space

Dubbed as the single worst movie in history, I set my expectations rather low before viewing this. Apparently, my appreciation for the 1950's and what they produced in entertainment came to the forefront as a result.

Set in the post-WWII days when people feared anyone would drop the hydrogen bomb, some aliens decide to "visit" Earth. Thing is, us paranoid Earthlings decided to fire at them and not believe that they came in peace. So, in an effort to save the universe from us, the aliens decide to kill us before we kill them... by using the dead.

If that made any sense to you, you're smarter than I am.

The film is pretty much an example of cross-genres that don't work. You know, like Vampire Westerns or white people playing Samurai warriors. This film takes the two most popular film classes of the era and forces them to produce a bastard child that is part chiller-thriller movie, part alien movie, and lower than B-Grade in most respects.

Acting is below average for the most part, special effects were decent given their time, and the sets were pretty much cheaply made in every respect possible. Though you have to appreciate the way they presented the living dead back then. I just wish they didn't cast Vampira, who looks like she was the inspiration for Mortisha Adams.

The only thing that can make this movie better is if there was an option to watch it with the cast from Mystery Science Theatre 3000 making jokes during the movie. It's that bad.

Movies From Austin (Part 1 of 4) - Tank Girl

Disclaimer

Austin finally remembered to bring me Tank Girl, as well as several other movies he wasn't sure if he told me he'd let me borrow or not. Since this is the first one I remember him saying he'd let me see my name, I thought I'd review it first and then work my way down the pile to a movie I know I'll enjoy. As such, the next blog entries should be about those movies, provided they don't get interrupted by something.

What do you get when you mix the humor of a horny Harley Quinn from the Batman: The Animated Series show, that girl and her moped from FLCL, and the style of Gwen Stefani? You get Tank Girl. Well, kind of. You actually get mindless entertainment consisting of things blowing up and kangaroo-mutants killing people, but I'm trying to be nice here.

Anyway, the story goes that it is 2033. Eleven years prior, a big-ass comet crashed into Earth and made the planet a big ol' desert. What little water is available is under the control of an evil corporation called Water and Power. And because the government was nuked in the blast, nobody is around to enforce the monopoly laws. Enter a group of people that steal water as well as another group of creatures hell bent on getting rid of the W&P for raping the land.

Heading one group is none other than Malcolm McDowell who plays the evil villain of this 1988 comic book turn mid-1990's movie. He carries the part well. Looks the part, walks the part, even sounds the part. Which bugged me. I'm not really all that keen on type casting, but I know I've heard his voice play several villains before. Where, however, is another question.

On the other end of the spectrum of main characters is Lori Petty. She's pretty much that Harley-Quinn-meets-Gwen-Stefani-with-whatever-her-name-is-from-FLCL girl I told you about. Again, looks the part, acts the part, and surprisingly sounds like the child of Harley Quinn and Gwen Stefani. I could tell she probably had a blast playing the part.

The character, however, that caught my attention more was Naomi Watts's character. I don't know, but I seem to be more in favor of character development, which she has. She starts off as a nerd, but by the end of the film, she's pretty much a smarter-yet-just-as-ballsy version of Petty's character. I blame anime for that kind of appreciation of character growth.

Speaking of which, I believe this movie would have been a hell of a lot better animated. What little animation there is in the movie looks really fun to watch. Think Ren & Stimpy during their prime and add in about a kilo of crack. Mix in some LSD for color, and you have the animation sequences of the movie. Then again, this was filmed during the Disney Golden Age of Animation where anything animated pretty much bombed, so I guess the inter-cutting of comic book panels is justified more than the animated sequences.

To be perfectly frank, I was told this movie has some "I. Q. lowering" moments. And boy, does it. There were just too many sequences that were too strange to watch. For example, they completely break movie genres when they force the owner of a strip club to sing "Let's Do It" (You know, "Birds do it/Bees do it/Even educated fleas do it/Let's do it/Let's fall in love"). While funny, the sequence just lasted too long given that this was suppose to be a mindless action comedy. And that's just one of many.

Another thing that bothered me was the way this gang of mutant kangaroo people called "The Rippers" were presented. They didn't look all that threatening. They just looked goofy. And when you saw comic book images of them or that brief animated part of one of them, they just looked like something out that really bad Kangaroo Jack animated movie they had on Cartoon Network last summer. Then again, this was made in 1995, and anything back then that looked like the live action Ninja Turtles was considered decent.

Overall, I liked the characters and some of the humor in the film, but it just falls flat on its face as far as substance goes. It's pretty to look at, but that only goes so far. However, if you like mindless entertainment, I guess this movie is good for you. Just keep in mind, you'll be watching a really skinny punk girl with a really big gun most of the time. But if that gets you off, more power to you then.

As Usual

Well, it was my sister's birthday a few days ago. So, as a belated birthday present, we decided to make the trip out ot Virginia to visit her for the weekend. (And in case you are curious, I'm on the hotel lobby's computer trying to look like I'm doing something important that I can't do anywhere else.)

Well, as usual, once we got closer to her college, she kept calling us. Eventually, we picked her up and went around to look for some place to park. We saw her new dorm she got for accepting the RA job position, and immediately we knew why she asked for a carpet. We then left to look for a carpet store and bought some reminate enough to cover the room. We were going to get more of the things she needs, but it was late. My sister checked out, as is required for RA's to do when they are going off campus, and spent the night with us.

And, as usual, after she pretty much was picked up, I was thrown to the wind. Anything I said and did didn't really matter. My dad and I had to swallow our pride (something I think my dad did several decades ago) and become the pack mules. You know, carrying the rug we bought as well as the VCR and other things we got from Wal-Mart the next day. I really shouldn't sound so selfish. This was my sister's birthday weekend, if nothing else. It was her time to rule again.

As usual, her campus was full of really hot frat boys and other cuties, most of whom I would bet are straighter than an arrow. It was Highlander Days, so there were a lot of them walking around with kilts. Nobody did what the traditional kilt-wearers do; they all had shorts underneath. Yeah, I know, but what do you expect when it is cold and windy most of the day?

As usual, I found myself not really enjoying myself. I know I don't get out much, but even when I do, I just can't seem to appreciate it outside of the change of scenary. I tried to see if I could the the Musical History of Disneyland box set I read about several weeks before (you know, to make the ride home someone less quiet even if I end up torturing my folks with the full ride audio from The Hanted Mansion ride), but the best I could find was a condensed version of the album which features clips from the shows and no full ride or show audio. Looks like me best bet is Borders at this point.

And as usual, I can't use spell check on this computer. So apologize for once again butchering the English language.

Anyway, that was my weekend.

One Down, One To Go

I talked to the dorm roomie of Cleet again to get any and all information that they forgot to tell me as subtle as possible. I learned from one of them that Cleet spends a lot of time on MySpace.

What is it with people having a MySpace? It's like everyone is on it! It's kind of like when everyone joined blogger because of the blogging fad. Albeit, that's when I joined, but I didn't join because everyone else was doing it. But I won't get into that.

Anyway, I went to Cleet's MySpace according to the address his roomie gave me. Scroll down and you'll see the reason for my title of this blog.

For those of you that are too lazy, Cleet's straight.

And that's the end of that.

Myself vs. Myself

I found myself towards the end of the day at odds with myself. It's not unusual to be fighting with yourself, especially when you're so messed up and confused like I am.

For a while, I've been trying to find out more about this guy named Cleet. The only reason is because he suddenly peaked my curiosity a few days ago when he started to mess with me every time he passed by to get his food in the cafe. When I say mess with me, he'd do some strange hand gesture in my immediate vision with a smile and then walk off. Then, for the rest of the time there, he would sit very close to a girl in my World Civilization class talking softly.

The only information I was able to find on my own is that he lives in the dorms, is a goof ball, plays guitar, and is extremely nice. Not much to go on, huh?

A part of me wants me to probe further to find out more about this guy, but another part of me keeps saying to back off. If it wasn't obvious to me before, I find myself constantly beating my head over it whenever I get love-struck. He keeps talking tot hat one girl that's in my class sitting very close to her, if not with her sitting on his lap all cuddled up and cute looking. Then why is it that he keeps doing "jazz hands" in front of me whenever he passes by and I make eye contact with him?

And then there's Austin. Boy, that's getting messed up. The moment I see him the crush hits, but as soon as I start talking to him about whatever, it's gone. Furthermore, I don't know much about him outside of his motorphobia and what his interests are. The more I talk to him, the more I find that crush creeping back up, especially if his jacket is off and he shows off those really nicely toned arms of his he got from drum line.

Both of these guys I only see twice a week every other day. Cleet I run into mostly on Monday and Wednesday; Austin is pretty much a solid Tuesday and Thursday encounter.

So what's the problem? Simply put, I know better. These guys are just simply out of my league. Hell, they aren't even on my team! I probably would have better luck with Wyatt if I didn't already know that it wouldn't work out with us since we are so different in pretty much everything!

Normally, if I didn't have this constant encounter with one of them causing my emotions to go all a-flutter, I would be over them within a good month. That was the case with Joe in my painting class. (Although, he is still a pleasure to look at.) But, that's not the case for me.

The only way that this problem would be rendered moot is if one of them is secretly gay and isn't telling me for one reason or another. But I doubt that my luck is that good anymore.

All Work and No Austin

Since about 07:45, I have been working nonstop on only two things. My monoprint for Printmaking 1 and getting my canvas ready for Painting 1.

Today, however, was suppose to be more enjoyable than it turned out to be. Austin (that pink-haired mowhawk punk that smokes and is skinny as hell that recently has become my on-and-off crush) was suppose to come in to work-study today. Key word being "suppose."

Well, he didn't.

What few people I talked to while I worked were mostly over school work. How to stretch a canvas properly, what time the film crew will be out of the painting studio so I can use it, where the hell is the damn staples for the staple gun, etc.

I was hoping to talk to someone about pretty much anything. Honestly, however, I was hoping to at least get a moment alone with Austin to see if I can open up to a person again without being hurt or hated. I mean, really open up. Tell him things that I would never blog about. He seems cool enough to be the kind of guy that won't get freaked out about it, but at the same time I don't want to chase him off or freak him out in any way.

I guess I should take things slowly and just see if I can contact him when my next big crisis comes along. In any event, it feels good right now to get off my feet after being on them for about eight hours straight!

Only the Crazy Understand

Have you ever come across someone who just didn't seem right in the head? Logic and the social norm seem to just disappear with this person. In many ways, they seem to be the kind of being you cannot simply get why they act the way they do. Even if they give you a reason that you could hold water in, there is still something about them that just doesn't feel "right." So you see them as quirky, strange, queer, or just plain weird.

But stop a moment and think. What is normal and what is weird? A broad question for sure; one that has been asked several times since the very first sighting of something strange or unusual. Well, allow me to present the following example as a way of narrowing down the field of thought some.

One day, while in the middle of my five hour break between classes, a fellow student came along and started conversation with me. We somehow got onto the subject of why I don't drive. Not wanting to supply a reason for the millionth time, I said in passing that I don't have a reason that my fellow student would accept compared to someone I know that has motorphobia, or a fear of cars. This made her curious. I then proceeded to tell the story of how he's been in too many major wrecks in such a short time as a passenger to where he's afraid of getting into a car. In a childlike manner, she asked how he gets to class. Instantly, I said that he travels by bus. The innocence of her curiosity carried over as she asked if he isn't worried about the bus being hit in an accident. From that point on, I couldn't supply a reason why he feels more comfortable using what little public transit our town has instead of driving. What I remember saying fell short, to where my fellow student pretty much nodded and took it for face value. He can't drive because he is afraid of getting into a wreck.

In reality, there is more to this than she can ever understand. There is probably more to this than even I could understand. For example, just recently, I found out that he doesn't mind getting into the cars of people he trusts when they are behind the wheel. He still has panic attacks if he is asked to get into a car with someone he doesn't know very well. Now this new bit of information may have some justice in the asking of the last question in the previous conversation I wrote about. If he is okay getting into a car, as a passenger, of someone he trusts, how can he possible get on a bus without having a panic attack?

My answer is just because he can. However, reason and logic interfere with most people, and my answer isn't acceptable. If he is afraid of getting into a crash in a car with a driver he doesn't know well, chances are he's afraid of getting into a crash while on a bus. Yet he isn't. A contradiction in terms that has no real merit as to why he just doesn't drive himself.

So why then is this seen as odd and not making sense to anyone but him and myself? Well, for starters, there is only one of him and only one of me. Each of us has have only certain experiences up until this point. No two people can have the same experience. It's a philosophical impossibility. That is why nobody will ever truly understand him. Not even myself, even though I'm very open to all walks of life short of hating people for no real good reason (ie. Racism).

You are not me. I am not you. You have not lived my life through my eyes. I have not experienced several wrecks in a row in a short period of time as a passenger to know the trauma and fear that would cause a person. Everything we know about anyone outside of ourselves is inferred, told from an outside party. And even when an experience is told by the source, it is nothing like actually experiencing it for yourself.

As far as how much each person is will into accept, or say that they understand, that's up to the individual. You can either take their word as golden, as brass, or as complete bull. But only the ones that are either open or crazy themselves are the ones to accept exception in the idea of what a phobia is instead of seeing a fear in absolutes.

Passing the Invite

I'm not sure if I shared this story with the blog or not, but just in case I didn't, I will not.

During the summer, I met one of my sister's co-workers. She found out I was studying Fine Arts and wanted me to teach her daughter, who was playing the part of hostess for the time being. Her daughter, who is in grade school, at one point started doodling on the paper that is used to protect the table from stains and such. Well, as I looked at her doodles, I was quite impressed by them. With some formal training, she could make those doodles look like Mike's paintings of fantastic flying machines from another time and place. I told her mom this, and she lit up like a candle at how well developed her child's art skills were. Naturally, like a true artist, her daughter didn't see anything special in her doodles.

Flash forward to yesterday. I got an invitation to a one-night gallery with driving directions and times. I saw that Mike was on the bill of artists. While working along side him on some images for Printmaking, I asked if any of his flying machine paintings were in the exhibit. He said that there were a few that looked like they were a part of the series.

It was about this time I called up my mom to find out for me if Brenda, my sister's co-worker I met, was working that night. Turns out she was, so I asked for a detour home.

Once there, we were greeted by every worker we knew there as if we were family that haven't visited in forever. In some sense of the phrase, we were. Hugs and welcomes were exchanged, as well as messages we would have to forward to my sister when we have the chance to give them to her. Then, I talked to Brenda about going to the show. She seemed excited and said she will try to get her daughter to go to it so she can see that her doodles can be made into art, thanks in part to Mike's work being on display.

If they go or not is rather up in the air right now, but I hope they get a chance to check out the show.

When we left, I felt really good for one reason or another. I couldn't place why, but felt similar to those times I give spare change to anyone that is broke simply because I feel that I am better off being the broke one rather than the other person. Hopefully, I did something good last night.

Stop or Go?

The people I have some kind of attraction to I should just stop interacting with altogether. I found myself acting like a dork when I was spoken to for the first time by two really cute Freshmen. It's like I can't talk around people that are attractive, similar to how I can seem to do important oral presentations without stumbling over myself like I did Monday night. ("Huh? What? Uhm, okay, I don't know why I wrote all these French words down, but...")

But, unfortunately for me, I can't avoid the pretty people. The only way is if during my five hours of waiting I lock myself in the studios never to be seen or heard from until I need to come out and do things. I don't have a problem with that, but five hours? Chances are really good that I'll finish my work long before those five hours are up, especially if the class is a work day.

Maybe I'm doing something I shouldn't be doing. Maybe I'm trying to deny myself something good, you know? I mean, I'm talking to really attractive people, while I myself am not all that attractive (no matter who says what about my picture). Sure, that means that I'm going to end up being the fat friend in the social circle of really hot people, but there are some people out there the like boys with some meat on their bones, right? At least I could hope.

Sidebar: I'm on the school's computer, and spell check doesn't work. I probably won't be able to edit this later, so I'm just going to publish this as is.

Notice

I've noticed something recently. I don't do my homework for World Civilization anymore. I've stop caring about the class. I just want the teacher to get a clue and realize that nobody likes his class. Nobody finds it interesting. Everyone wants to get out of it, yet some of us are going to end up taking it again in the Spring.

It's like that with most of my history classes. Unless you can make it interesting, I generally tune it out. That's why I respect and like Barbara so much when she teaches history. She knows what she is talking about and can put it into a conversation that I can actually be interested in one general sense or another. Not everything may click, but at least she is able to get my attention to where I can care about the class.

I've also noticed that I'm talking more and more to the Freshmen class during those five hours I'm doing work I care about. Ironically, it seems I keep talking to the younger ones that most people in the south would label freaks. Given how I dress, you wouldn't think that I would be that open. But hey, I am. I'm actually more curious and nosy by nature than open. I like talking to people that interest me, and it would appear that the people that interest me are usually the ones that stick out like a needle in your favorite sofa chair. (Come to think of it, I was like that in high school too.)

I hope this time around I make a good friend that will be there for me and seek me out if they feel something is wrong with me. Hopefully, I won't feel like I pissed them off because I'm so different to where society pretty much says I won't make it in a capitalistic society.

Saved as Draft, Published Much Later

The following is a collection of entries I've been secretly blogging. Yes, I have been blogging despite the whole "I'm done" crap I posted a month ago. Can you blame me? With nobody to open up to, I needed some kind of outlet before I blew my brains out.

In any event, curiosity as to what the general internet and blog-reading public thinks has gotten the better of me. That, and I'm tried of constantly hitting "Save as Draft."

So let's pick back up where we left off, shall we? Let the belittling of my bitching begin once more!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gotta Write!
08-22-2005

You would think that even after that last post I would know better than to drop something cold turkey like blogging. Especially given the fact that I have practically nobody to talk to. So, in any event, this little post will be my on-going little draft of things I would post but won't until I feel like I have said enough mindless shit to cover several volumes of books the size of, say, the The Culture of Mac book that I can see from the computer I'm using in the library. That should take about, what? Six weeks maybe? Who knows, seeing how I'm going to have very little time to myself now. At least time where I can think about something other than art, boys, and the overly-important-yet-completely-stupid-and-over-rated concept of fitting in.

So what drove me to do this? What compelling force could possibly make me not want to blog? It's the fact that I'm tired of people saying that my bitching is useless. People telling me I have no right to bitch because I haven't earned it. Last I checked, I didn't have to earn the right to say what I wanted to. In fact, last I was told, bitching in a public or even a private form is okay if not healthy for your emotions.

So why would I drop something that would be healthy for my emotions like another fat guy with a New Years Resolution to get back in shape? Well, I go to an art school, and that should mean that I should be able to channel all that into my art. Stereotypical, is all I can say. I like to create. I like to make things. I think it is fun. The reason I go to an art school is so I can learn how to create things better. Is it wrong to have something with little or no context in it? Yes, so they tell me. Legitimate art is suppose to make you think. Pretty art is something to make to sell. And craft is just something to make to put flowers or fruit in.

I'm being taught how to create legitimate art. I don't want to create legitimate art. I just want to create.

Now you see why I feel like I don't fit in, as well as the reason why I nearly stopped blogging. So let's see what everyone missed while I was typing but not publishing, shall we?

No Sleep For Mondays
08-23-2005

So I didn't get home until around the time my sister did during the summer whenever she would have a night shift. I had very little time to check messages and other things, as well as even less time to get ready for today! Sleep was pretty swift to capture me in its grasp, but I think it shook me when I wanted to sleep in. I'm still rather tired.

Last night was my first night in my latest class in Art History. It was rather interesting. We did pretty much our normal routine. However, I noticed several odd things.

As required (and because Watkins doesn't pay for much of anything for the students), we were notified of the Family and Children Center crisis hot line. It has been mentioned before to me in literally every semester I've had in every other class in one fashion or another. However, what I found odd, is that when I was turning my attention back to the teacher, I couldn't help but noticed that Ken was giving, what I believe to be some kind of form if not the evil eye, a look as if to say "You! Use this! It's free, so use this!"

I know myself better than that, especially now that I've taken the time to read what I have wrote. Much like having too much money or having too much hospitality, I'd abuse the shit out of this service. Furthermore, they only pay for three sessions. They then direct you to a specialist that could help you, hopefully within your budget or insurance. If this blog went back far enough, you would know that I've been there. That I've done that. I was even put on Paxel. Oh, it worked in keeping me in check, but I was bored with everything! Nothing could interest me when I was on the damn pill, so I stopped as soon as I could and quit going to the quack of a doctor.

I've pretty much sworn off professional help ever since. After all, they only want your money. I seriously doubt a perfect stranger with the title of doctor in front of their name gives a rat's ass about someone with emotional or mental troubles for more than an hour unless they can afford it.

Another kind of oddity, if not a stab into that void where my heart should be, was hearing everyone's stories about something that happened to them recently that changed the way they think about things in general. I said that I've been actually reading and thinking about my writings. Everyone else has all these stores about how they met people or encountered people that made them see just how sad society is or how normal some homeless person on the street really is. Some even had trips out of the country and experienced a culture that changed their view. So, yeah, I felt like the hermit like I am for the first time. I mean, really felt it.

I should note something interesting that I've been thinking about since about 12:00 CDT yesterday. Something rather important that I hope gets across to the right person or people.

It's become more and more apparent that I may have been tricked. Someone may have may have taken advantage of my naive nature. I'm still naive, but I'm very cautious now. However, the more I look for pictures of various male models, the more I stumble upon boys that look like James, and more recently Aaron. These pictures are exactly the ones that Dan has sent me if not someone else.

I'm starting to think these guys are not real. Despite what I may have said in person, I've never actually met them. The only thing that could potentially debunk that they are not real is that I was in the room with them when Dan was on the phone. I was even in the same room when Kevin was on the phone with Bill! (Boy, was that a yell-fest.) But I have never seen an actual candid picture of them with Dan. I've never seen any kind of picture of them that I know is real beyond a shadow of a doubt now. I can't help but think that these guys are not real, and that I've been taken advantage of.

It doesn't matter at this point. The event's that transpired are at least three years old. And on top of that, in the very legal sense of the matter, I gave my consent.

It's no wonder why I tell users that are looking for boyfriends and girlfriends on all these free games sites I go to that what they are doing is dangerous. Sure, that's me going Republican and using only the extreme case scenarios. But looking back on how innocent and naive my writing was about "the boys," I know now that what I say when I tell those kids that has some merit. At least for me. Now if only they would listen to me.

Welcome to your evolution point, Jon. From this point on, you most likely will not be the same.

I knew this would happen.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from the head of Student Life. She said she wanted to meet with me. I also got an e-mail from her. I thought that this was rather odd and wondered what it could be about. That same day, I also found my blog listed under the recently visited sites on the computer I was using to look up male models for a painting assignment. Well, needless to say, I had my assumptions about what was going on.

Being in charge of Student Life pretty much implies that you are responsible for the general social environment and happenings of the school. That being said, my most recent writings obviously filtered into the real world. Similar to how they did last semester, only this time it had reached Death-Con 1. Or so I was told.

I assured the head of Student Life that there is nothing for her to worry about. It's just a cycle with me. I complain, I bitch, I make empty threats, and I may even slam a few doors I shouldn't. It's nothing. Should something really dangerous happen, and it has in the past, I'm always the first to let anyone know. Whether they believe me or not is another matter (one that my mother has already forgotten about).

What a way to start my lunch hour and wait, huh?

Too Many Good Looking Boys!

I just finished talking to one of several really hot boys in the school. It seems like today, most of the guys I'm attracted to are putting out their cuteness for the world to see. Even Coffey wore a thin white shirt that caught his chest muscles rather nicely whenever he would relax or if the wind hit him from the right angle.

It's times like these I wish I had more balls to actually do something like, say, convince people that I'm not a bad person after all? However, in reading my past writings up to where I am right now, I'm not boyfriend material. I'm, in fact and much to my own surprise, rather high maintains. At least in this point in my life, I need a lot of emotional support that I know nobody can give. Not that I would ask for it either, because that would just be unfair to ask for that much.

Not like that matters right now. I think I've figured out my place in the social scene of my time. I just have to accept the fact I'm going to be alone for a good chunk of it, especially when I need that hug to make things feel better again.

It's like I lost all of my motor skills!
08-24-2005

Like the title says, I was completely not my usual self.

First, I completely forgot my Painting folder. I had images to work off of while in the class for the warm-up assignment to get used to applying paint. Then while actually in the class, I couldn't see what I was doing. It's not that I went blind or anything (although I did have a headache as a result of something in the air), I just couldn't see the form as well as everyone else. My image of the back of a figure came out looking like an oil spill. A bit ironic when you think about it, given the fact I was using oil paint.

Then after my lunch, I was drawing only to discover that I can't pull a pose out of my head anymore. Well, more like confirm instead of discover. I was drawing with Mike, who was working on an image to sell to the guys in charge of Warcraft fantasy art. He told me a few tips to use in the future if I decided to paint and draw whatever I plan to create. I found it interesting that I could just project an image, use acrylic to get my value scale, and then go over that image with oils. I may use that method in the future, but for now it doesn't look like that will happen.

World Civilization was a pain in the ass. We had a quiz, and while I was writing, I felt my hand jam up. I think I'm developing carpal from all this typing. I'm really starting to hate the class. It's rather boring. But, hell, it's a requirement, and the teacher knows this. I think he also knows that a room full of artists and film makers couldn't give a rat's ass about what the definition of being civilized means to them. Hell, I even admitted in my quiz that I don't think too highly on the idea. After all, for a bunch of people who claim that we are the civilized ones, we are sure doing a lot of uncivilized things. I'll leave that to your own imagination.

I hope tomorrow is better. I'm starting to feel like college isn't for me. I guess I shouldn't have worked on those studies over the summer. I may be experiencing an early burn-out.

If Only It Was Legal
08-25-2005

Nothing really to report as far as classes go. I just pulled some overtime in Printmaking, which is probably what I'll be doing a lot of over the course of the semester. I mean, I have a 5 hour break between when my class ends and when my dad can pick me up (as well as a five hour break between Painting and World Civil).

I did get to talk to Wyatt for like the millionth time this week. He's fun, and a really interesting card. Apparently, he and I share a common frustration. The freshmen this semester are hot! We are both desperately hoping at least one of them is gay and is interested in either one of us. However, the likelihood that either one of us will get our wish is highly unlikely on my end. Wyatt is more appealing. I'm boring. That's like choosing between toast and garlic bread. They both may be the same, but one is always better than the other given certain situations.

All the luck to him, I say. He really wishes he could find out who in the freshmen class is gay via "the fun way," but that's sexual harassment. He knows better than that. Hell, even I know better than that!

Still, though, the idea does appeal to me. Too bad I've been down that road already and know where it ends.

I could use the money, but...
08-26-2005

For a while now, I've been thinking that I should go through the sites I'm a member or regular visitor of and take advantage of the Webmaster option of linking them. Granted I don't get much traffic to begin with, and chances are really high that I won't get any money out of it. But what little money I would make I could use.

Thing is, each place that I've considered officially advertising instead of linking like I am as of this entry clearly states to host the banners on my own servers. I don't really have that kind of option. I would have to host it on ImageShack or PhotoBucket. I also would have to create a CCBill account to keep track of how much money (if any) I'm making.

Maybe later down the line I'll me more serious and actually do this. But for now, being affiliated with my favorite porn sites (albeit there is only two that offers something for webmasters) doesn't seem to be very profitable.

I Have an Addiction
08-29-2005

In what will probably be a vain attempt to repeat what I did last spring (I want to say Lent, but I'm not sure), I've deleted any and every piece of pornographic material and link from this computer.

However, I know that may all be useless. The links are way to easy to remember. And I'm not as busy as I could be to keep myself distracted long enough to forget about porn. Furthermore, if I got a job that pays regularly, I can bet you money and win that part of my paycheck will go to porn sites as well as my student loans and other expenses.

As such, I feel I have a problem. One that I really need to stop, but I honestly don't know how. Maybe a boyfriend would help me out, but somehow I doubt it. I'd probably have sex with him as often as I masturbate now.

DAMMIT!

Go figure that the day I give up porn is the same day I see a whole class of really hot, young, college guys that are lean and/or buff like hell jogging shirtless in the rain!

Fate can be so cruel sometimes.

Why I Don't Like Going to the Mall by Myself
08-30-2005

So, thanks to Hurricane Katrina, I found myself questioning if I would have class this morning. Turns out we will. In time I've been at Watkins, we have yet to close due to the weather. Needless to say, Metro closed all public schools just in case one district had no power.

Mom offered to pick me up after my classes. I assumed that I was going to get to go home early, but that turned out to be wrong. She picked me up for lunch and brought me to Green Hills. Armed with nothing but my sketchbook and a really short pencil. I was left to entertain myself at the most expensive mall close to where my mom works.

So there I was. In the middle of an expensive mall, no money, and completely surrounded with so many beautiful high schoolers that had the day off because of some rain and wind. Thankfully, there were not that many guys to look at, but the entire mall is geared towards the upper class and mostly towards women. I found myself bored out of my mind, even when I tried to sketch a kid from the upstairs area looking down at the food court who was more bored than I was.

If my sister was around, this kind of thing wouldn't happen in any mall. I'd at least get entertained by her attempts at trying on outfits she will probably never buy.

Making Friends... I hope!
09-01-2005

While pretty much finding a steady rhythm in Printmaking, I kept reviewing the course of my day the other day. I couldn't help but feel left out of the social circle that is hovering over Watkin's student body. Everyone knows someone and hangs out with them in one fashion or another. Dorms, in the yet-to-be-named cafe, or even if just in the class room. Myself? I'm rather a lone wolf and only associate with people that I feel I could be friends with. That being said, I have little time to talk to anyone but myself and a teacher. When I find someone I can talk to, I always fear that I'm talking too much.

Well, in any event, after I was done pulling my overtime for Printmaking, I found Wyatt in the cafe and decided to sit down with him for a while while I worked on a copper etching. Eventually, a really tall and cute guy came up to the cafe and ordered a sandwich. I mentioned to Wyatt that I was very distracted right now, thanks in part to me giving up my little addiction. He took a stab as to what I was trying to quit, and guessed right. He said that people give up pornography all the time, so it shouldn't be that big of an insecurity for me. It isn't so much an insecurity as it is frustrating, as I explained to him. It would seem that fate likes to bombard me with people I find sexually appealing at the worst possible times of day.

And the moment I explained that, the tall twink sat down right across from me with his dorm mate. Wyatt, being the social bat that he is, talked to them. I tried my best to work, but as usual, I got distracted. Eventually, Wyatt got their names out of them. The tall cute one is named Robert, and his friend's name is Jillian. After that, I was pretty much left with them, as Wyatt had to leave to do something important.

This presented a rather awkward moment for me. There I was with a really hot guy sitting right across from me as I was scratching away at an image in a copper plate to make it look darker. They are not in my department, and they are so young that they might as well be jail bait! Furthermore, I seriously doubt the cutie I find so distracting is even gay! I mean, what are the odds?

I talked to them as best I could while fighting the urge to just say to Robert how cute he is. It's not that difficult given how much practice I've had doing this, but even then I felt so strange. As time went on, they eventually left to go to back to their dorms. I was still working at the time they left. Copper, while soft compared to other metals, is a bitch to etch into.

I doubt anything will come out of this little social event. Nothing ever does these days. Still, what little light of hope it gives was nice.

I don't know. Maybe I'm waiting for someone to think that I'm worth chasing after instead of me trying to build up the balls to chase after them without coming off as a crazy yaoi slut of the college. At least that's what I think right now.

The Little Boy Came Out
09-02-2005

I originally was going to spend the whole day painting, which is really odd for this time in the semester. I shouldn't be pulling Friday work days until around Mid-Term.

I finished early and called my dad to pick me up on his way home. He brought my mom to have some oral surgery done. Something about a gum disease that they needed to go under the knife to get rid of.

The ride home was uncomfortable to say the least. My mom was in the back seat gargling and coughing every so often into a plastic bag filled with used cotton gauze. When she wasn't doing that, she was moaning in pain.

This was the first time in my entire life I saw my mother in actual pain. And it was really difficult for me to deal with. It still is.

The little boy inside me came out full force. I felt helpless and couldn't bring myself to do even the simplest of things like helping her up the stairs without feeling scared. It was an awkward feeling and a very unpleasant one.

Right now, I'm dreading having to go into her bedroom to help her with things like getting water or something soft she can eat like apple sauce. Like I said, I've never seen her or any of my parents in any kind of pain before. At least not something that would cause them to be in bed for a day or more. It's really freaking me out right now, and I don't know if I can handle seeing her again in this state.

I can't help but feel extremely weak right now. Any other person would have helped her out with no problems. Go figure that I had to be the only person in the world that can't handle seeing people in pain without having something short of an emotional break down.

Now my own dreams?!
09-03-2005

My subconscious seems to have been invaded by common sense last night, as my dream were more like a reminder as to what I should be doing to conform to society's standards.

I dreamed I was driving. Rather poorly I might add. The odd thing was I was driving from the back seat until I passed a red light. Then I somehow got into the front seat. The car eventually broke down in front of a Dennys-like restaurant. Just my luck as well, because a tourist family went in who just happen to have a father that was a mechanic. And honest one at that. Unfortunately, I couldn't pay for his service, and I got a slight lecture about how I should have money on me at all times.

No doubt the last part was about getting a job.

In true dream fashion, I found myself at the edge of some really high steel structure with two ladders. One leading to the ground, and one short ladder leading to my doom. At this point, I woke up.

This is just great. I get pass my pornography withdrawals similar to how smokers cough for several weeks after quitting, and I get bombarded with reminders of why people think I suck. Given the $3/gallon gas prices, I have to ask if driving and having a job to afford to drive really that important.

And to think, the other day someone said I was doing a smart thing by not driving since it helps the environment and keeps money in my pocket.

DAMN IT!

Just when I thought I got a handle on my addiction, I spend the last hour looking up pornographic images to get off to out of boredom! OUT OF BOREDOM!

I'm so disappointed in myself that I wish I could kick myself is the nuts for this.

Relationships
09-05-2005

Last night I was talking to someone I met on VMK and got to know pretty well off site. I told her about my addiction to porn, to which we went through pretty much what every other addiction website told me to check up on. Is my addiction affecting my daily life? Can I go on through a day without thinking about it? You know the drill.

The subject ended when she said that most guys my age look at nothing but porn! It is mostly because we are men and we think with our second head. Hey, I agree with her. More and more guys are thinking with their dick than with their brains.

The thing is, my constant pornography viewing shouldn't be a big problem as long as it doesn't hinder my real life relationships with that someone special. I laughed at the idea. I have about as much chance of getting a boyfriend as I do of winning the lotto three times in a row. But, nevertheless, she assured me that day will happen when I will end up with a boy that loves me and all my idiosyncrasies.

Later on that night, I ran into a friend from Gaia. He was feeling rather down, so I asked him to tell me what's up. Turns out he's having problems dealing with the fact his ex-boyfriend is his ex. He finds himself doing little things by accident that remind him of their past relationship. It doesn't help that he is still in high school and sees him several times over the course of the day. Hell, they are even in band together! So, he asked me what to do about it.

I'm not the best person to go to for relationship advice, but I can't say that I don't know how he feels. I pretty much told him what Jamie once told me. It takes about the same amount of time you invested into the relationship emotionally to get over the whole thing. However, how long that will take all depends on the person's inner strength.

I recounted to him the fact that I'm in the middle of a long and difficult time as far as my emotions go thanks in part to "you know who." I told him that he probably has it easier than I do, seeing how he can talk to the guy. I can't.

Given my situation in comparison to his, I did my best to set him on the path I never went down nor can pick to go down again. The only thing I can hope for is that he takes my advice with him to a better place than I'm at.

This entry is making me depressed.

Cancelled Class Day
09-06-2005

Class was apparently cancelled this morning, but we were encouraged to work. The due date for our Printmaking assignments were coming up, so most of us tried to get at least one print done for the day. I just took my time with things.

After class, I pretty much did several things that I couldn't do in class for one reason or another. Mainly because there were too many people and not enough space on the inking tables. I've noticed that my productivity seems to improve when I am alone in that room. Doesn't seem to do that when I'm alone in the painting room, however. I guess I found my alternate medium if pencils and photography gets boring.

I know one thing I'll be doing. One of the prints I've made will be scanned and then submitted to a website's art rating area. Mostly out of protest that all the highest rated things are photoshop images. Nearly nobody on that site appreciates hand-made art. It makes me wonder if eventually I'll be required to take a computer course outside of Digital Imaging.

I found myself trying to be social with people I don't normally talk to. In other words, I found myself talking to complete strangers while they were waiting for their classes. It was towards the end of it that I learned that Watkins still has several communication problems with their student body. A few people didn't know the "Name our Cafe" contest had ended and they were now voting for the best name. Another didn't realize that there were student auditions for student films last week. One student apparently didn't his classes until literally today, so he had to learn a whole different schedule. It seems fitting and very ironic that after all was said and done that the cafe owner who was breaking in a new Expresso machine would ask the staff member to send an e-mail saying that drinks from the expresso were on the house for the day for teachers only.

And even after all this, I still don't want to touch my World Civilization readings. Frankly, I just want to sleep all day again like I did over most of the weekend.

People, Money, or Video Games?
09-08-2005

Where should I begin? I think I'll just start with whatever comes to my mind and then go from there.

When I first saw Patrick today, I first noticed how tight his pants where. How tight were they? Let's just say I could see his gage. If you don't know what that is, consider yourself lucky. May got a good laugh out of it when I told them off to the side.

I caught Leigh Anne in the hall when I was getting my copy of The City Paper. She asked me how I was, and I pretty much told her that I'm hungry but broke. It was just me being overly honest. Well, true to her generous nature, she treated me to lunch at the (still unnamed) cafe at the expense of her being late. This is the second time she's given me lunch. The first was in sculpture when I was pulling all that overtime without eating or taking a break for about three days. I felt really bad even though I got a free lunch. It was around this time that I made an important decision.

I'm selling my unopen copy of Katamari Damacy to the local game store close to where I live tomorrow. It still has the shrink wrap on it. If they think I stole it, I'm just going to tell them the story I tell everyone else. I got the game for Christmas, intended to get a PS2, didn't before my money went down the toilet for college supplies, and now I've given up on trying to keep up with video games. Probably all for the best. Mike gave up video games several years ago, and now he's making $4k during a single weekend at any fantasy convention he can sign up to be a part of! Meanwhile, I was talking to another film freshmen who still plays video games but has no clue as to how he's going to pay back his student loans. Myself? I'm going to use the money I get from Katamari Damacy to pay back Leigh Anne for both those free lunches she gave me.

I don't know if I'm growing more social or not. I feel like I am, but at the same time I feel like I'm that annoying gnat that buzzes by your ear when you sleep and won't go away. It's still too early to tell if anything good will come out of what I'm doing (talking to total strangers), but at least the guys that run the cafe know me now by name.

The Art of Pleasing
09-09-2005

I don't know if I forced them to go or if they really wanted to go to begin with, but today, my parents and I went to the reception of the Teacher Gallery over at Watkins. We stayed a grand total of 15 minutes.

Of the pieces that were on display, the only ones that got their interest going were most of the photos. Painting and sculptures were pretty much appreciated for their aesthetics rather than their content or creativity. Ironically, it was the student work that were scattered in the neighboring hallways that got the most attention from my parents. In particular, the metal works.

So, yeah, most of what my teachers did was not as interesting to them as the bronze shoes that a classmate of mine did last semester.

This made me feel a bit sad. Here they are in the very presence of the art that was produced by the people that are teaching me and only a few actually got there attention! This is the second time I've taken them to a gallery that the school was throwing. The first was the MetroSexual Tent Revival (where I got to hug Jason for the first and last time), and back then their reactions were pretty much the same. They were expecting something bigger only to see something that didn't live up to their expectations. My mom even commented about how she was hoping to see a metal works piece from Terry G. in the show instead of the colorful Tanukis that were up.

I think this will be the last time I meantime any of the art shows from the school to them. At least until my senior gallery.

By the way, I got a 100% payback on Katamari Damacy. Apparently, GameStop has a new policy where if a game is in mint condition (still shrink wrapped with the original security seal sticker still unbroken) you get a full sell back price equal to what the game is going for in on the open market. I got $21.84 for a game their computer said is going for $19.99!

Escape into Dreams
09-11-2005

I find myself sleeping more and more when I can. I also find myself not wanting to wake up, not wanting to face the day. I want to stay asleep. I want to stay in that dream world I've created that is so enjoyable, so peaceful.

I don't want to live in reality. I want to live in dreams.

And then I woke up late...
09-13-2005

That's what I get for wanting to live in dreams.

Yesterday, I paid Leigh Anne's tab that she paid for my lunch back for her. It was the least I could do seeing as how I had money to do it.

However, all was not fun and games. Yesterday, I got another load of work that, to be perfectly honest, I don't want to do. Naturally, I prioritize them based on how much I like the class or the teacher (which means Barbra's assignment will come first). I think that's always the best way to handle large work loads. Find out what is more important and then work on that.

I've decided that this will be published soon. I found my blog's URL typed in several times in the library computer over the past weeks. Someone is apparently checking up on me.

Unclench Myself? WTF?
09-15-2005

Leigh Anne caught me paying her tab for my lunch. She politely said not to do that again, as she was being nice. I told her that I was just returning the favor. It was a nice little moment.

My weekly horoscope said that what I think I'm doing that is good for me is actually bad for me. That's pretty specific, but the only thing I applied it to was the whole attempt of not viewing pornography as heavily as I used to. Can't say I'm making any progress. The horoscope goes on to say that I should just stop and be more open, mostly because I'm missing out on a whole lot of experiences.

Easy for the newspaper pyschic to say. They never had to live what I had to go through. They just look at their cards or their stars and then suddenly the know me.

I've been getting more and more tired as the semester creeps its way to mid-term, and I don't know why. I'm really starting to not care, seeing how yesterday was the first time I felt like a stranger even to me while I studied. I really need to find someone I can talk to about this whole thing. I'm starting to feel like I'm losing my personal identity slowly the more I stop caring about the world in general.

Too bad most of the people in the school probably don't share the same view point as I do. You would think that a school where it is pretty much our job to tell the truth as we see it that there would be someone, even one person, that wasn't as optimistic as most of the people I've come acrossed.

Apparently, I'm that one person.

I need a boyfriend

I was just asked by someone to leave another person alone because I'm apparently hitting on him subconsciously, and it's bothering him.

This isn't the first time this has happened. Hell, I'm surprised that I haven't been slammed with a sexual harassment claim! I should be considering myself lucky that I dodged that bullet so far every time this came up.

Too bad I know I'm not worth the trouble of dating. Andrew and the others pretty much proved that.

Moments of Realizations Forgotten
09-20-2005

Ever have those moments where you realize something so profound that you just have to share it with the world only to forget about it shortly after you've discovered it?

Yes, I was going to write something that would explain my world view. Something borderline religious, but I had a slip of the brain and lost it. The only thing I remember is that it had to do with what people think people should be doing.

Which reminds me. Last night in history, we learned about Existentialism. It pretty much means a concentration on the individual and self experience. What I didn't like about the idea was something about how if a change can make you better, then it is better for the society. In one sense, I can see it working. For example, if you quit smoking or drinking. In another, I can't see it making sense. Like if you work hard to make yourself successful. How is that single and minute achievement that made life better for yourself good for society? For every person that gets rich, there's someone out there getting poor. For every person that hooks up, there's someone else getting denied a date.

But, that's me arguing again with what has become the social norm.

I also had a realization late one night about how I feel about people. Once again, I forgot everything that had transpired between myself and my imagination. The only sure thing is that my feelings about people are no longer favorable. I can't trust people, let alone myself. The moment I open up, I just get hurt.

Which leads to the questions of why I want or need a boyfriend so badly if I don't like people and the like in line of that. The short answer is I'm lonely. Loneliness is practically the death of the social being. In a society where we have so much communication with people daily, to be ignored is equal to that of a hit and run. It's not murder, because a social murder would be acknowledging someone's words and then hating them for it. (The next equivalent would be to spread propaganda about them, which would be similar to pissing on their grave or slandering them at their own funeral wake.) The person may surive the hit and run, but unless something is done about it, something major, nothing really changes. The same is true in social settings. If you are ignored socially, nothing really happens. To you. To them. To the conversation. To pretty much anything unless you yell, stomp your feet, do something to get their attention. It's a slow and painful death, socially, to be ignored that has only one cure. Love and attention from someone genuine.

Which pretty much makes me hopeless in the very romantic sense of the word. No wonder people 35 and up are still replying to my dead profile and personal ads. I'm an easy target. A young, semi-attractive college student wanting love and attention is just oh-so-ripe for one-night stands.

But I digress. The more I venture into that territory, the more I'll start to show what I'm talking about. And in this day and age when you can put anyone behind bars if you have enough proof and money to do so, I'd just be risking my own future. Not like I had much to begin with.

Thanks, Wyatt.

I was talking to Austin, a (hopefully) new friend when I found out Wyatt told him about the day I "came out" to him in a rather... well, stupid way given the fact I'm in college. And then about how last semester I drew him nude for figure study before that whole new rule came up saying students could no longer model for any class.

I think you can figure out why that story made me blush a bit when I heard it told back to me from a third person point of view, naturally with some distortion from the actual event.

Thankfully, Wyatt is a very cool guy that isn't offended easily or stays mad for long. I just thought it was a rather small world we live in when I find out the guy I'm talking to heard that from Wyatt. More people in general should be like Wyatt. As far as personality goes, that is.

My First Sincere Compliment!
09-21-2005

Oh. My. God!

While painting just a random Happy Meal toy I brought for my second color study for Painting 1, I was surprised to hear from my teacher how excellent a job I did. This wasn't the usual half-hearted-but-meant-to-encourage kind of compliment. This one was one that he actually meant!

Then he took it back by saying that I could punch up the values more in the painting.

Still, this is the first time I've actually had that happen in this school! After this long, I get another rare event in college (the first one was when I made a piece so powerful it made the teacher cry for the first time in her teaching career)!

Finally! Some light at the end of the tunnel! I just hope it isn't a faint twinkle like the last one.

Corpse Bride Review
09-24-2005

Like the Neoplianesque character said, "This is gonna be good." And how!

Right off the bat, those familiar and fans of Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas will recognize the formula that made the film a hit. Create memorable characters and make the audience actually care about them. Then engage us in the story to where if we leave for a quick bathroom break, we'll feel bad about it. And Corpse Bride delivers just that.

Victor (Johnny Depp) is a lovable yet shy soul who, in every sense of the word, is the artist nobody wants to take the time to understand, let alone appreciate. In fact, the first person in the film that actually appreciates his curiosity is none other than Victoria (Emily Watson), who is a naive and hopeless romantic. The perfect pair played just as perfect. Probably one of the more unexpected cast members for me was hearing Christopher Lee as the voice of Pastor Galswells. But it works in a very strange way in setting up how the church system is in this dark town.

On the other side of the void are several characters from the world of the dead that are just as appealing. Naturally, the Corpse Bride herself (Helena Bonham Carter) is just as charming as ever, albeit her entrance did feel more like a horror movie scene. There is also a list of characters that have their own personalities, each taking a page out of the Haunted Mansion in their design, which hints to how they were killed. And they seem to be fans of puns.

When you compare the two groups together, the dead seem happier out of the two. Hell, they know how to throw a party that is, quite literally, the musical high point of the film. There is also a sense of community among the dead, which becomes very clear towards the end of the film. This makes the citizens of the dead more appealing than the strict class structure in the world of the living.

Speaking of music, Danny Elfman does it again! Taking what he did in Nightmare, the songs in the film flow in and out of the script as if people broke in song every moment. There are no real harsh song queues as the songs slide in. However, the songs are not the best part of the film. I found myself enchanted by the piano solos that were composed for the film. I really was disappointed when they ended, both times rather suddenly by some needed plot advancement. I can only hope the soundtrack features the complete piano pieces in their uninterrupted forms.

The story is laid out in a very easy-to-follow manner. Victor is to merry Victoria to save her family from bankruptcy, only to screw it up in every way possible. When practicing by himself how to properly say his wedding vows, he accidentally marries the Corpse Bride. From there, it's a matter of setting things right. And the ride is an enjoyable one.

Surprisingly, the blend of stop-motion animation and computer technology has made this film yet another piece of art to look and appreciate simply for its beauty and visual appeal. When the characters talk, it feels organic and less jerky than when stop-motion films were made over ten years ago. There are the occasional flips and skips here and there, but they are practically unnoticable if you don't know what to look for. It's almost as if this blend of old and new 3D animation could push the genre of animation even farther than most would imagine. I can only hope to see more of this style in the future.

I can't say enough good things about this film. Believe me, I can't. The only reason I'm stopping right now is so I don't spoil the movie and all its little quirks. Go see it and buy the DVD when it comes out.