Happy St. Patrick's Day! (Ken's Visit part II)
Before I get too much into Ken's visit again, I feel I HAVE to link a story from MSNBC. They were, apparently, trying to find a better beer than Guinness for St. Patty's Day (or they were trying to find a Guinness substitute, or something). Basically the guy said that Guinness is as good as it gets for Irish-ness on March 17th. The real reason I linked to this story is that it shows a picture of the Chicago River as it was on Saturday... when I didn't get a picture. It is, honestly, a super-bright green... which almost blinds you when you first see it. It's amazing. At least click on the link and check out the picture.
Sidenote: I think if someone says "Eat my nutsack" it's okay to call their bluff. They are, basically, asking for it.
Also, before I get too much into Ken's visit again, I feel that I have to say something else about Saint Patrick's Day. I am annually quite upset by people who are NOT Irish in any way, shape, or form who say "Everyone's Irish on St. Patty's Day!" This is not true literally or figuratively... this is your excuse to get drunk and stay drunk for an entire day. Where were you when my ancestors built the roads, buildings, and subway tunnels of New York? Where were you when they were treated as less than dirt, not quite slaves but not quite citizens either? Where were you when I had to listen to my grandfather's Irish stories (Irish storytellers are long-winded [read: stories that are boring and very LONG])? You were none of those places... happy to say on that day that you were British or German or Swedish. So pardon me if I'm a little upset if you're going to claim to be Irish just so you can get drunk. And that's another thing... what other heritage has a holiday that has been bastardized to the point of being a day of drunkenness? You could claim Mardi Gras is no longer about being the day before Lent, and I would agree. Other than that, you'd be hard pressed to find a heritage that has the entire nation getting drunk and blaming you. *sigh* Silver lining... okay. Um... well, not many other ethnicities have holidays that are "just for them." In that respect, St. Patrick's Day is special... and I should stop focusing on the negative, and go out to Hooters with Adam and his roommates to eat wings and stare at attractive women in disgustingly small uniforms (when I say disgusting, I refer to the "bottoms" which would be hotter if they were volleyball shorts. I've already mentioned this... but I'm still right. The Hooters' "pants" show FAR TOO MUCH in an area that's difficult to keep looking good if you have a large chest [which is a pre-req for working there]). Besides, it seems like everyone wants to be Irish on St. Patrick's Day... so people are jealous of me and my hideous sideburns, right? Even though Patrick was a Brit. Makes no sense. Bastardized another holiday. Okay, time to move on.
Hey! Do you have any Irish in you? *pause* Do you want some more?
Back to Ken's Visit...
Thursday: We slept in late pretty late. It was past noon, if I remember correctly. And, when we woke up, it was just to play more Battlefront. Thursday flew by, it seems, and I can't even remember us getting food... we may have just eaten loot I had around the apartment.
Then, before I knew it, I had my first Conservatory level 1A class with Tim O'Malley. Let me say this: BEST.CLASS.EVER. Whereas Gellman looked at me as if I was an idiot, O'Malley used my improv TWICE in the night to demonstrate what I had done right. He also asked my opinion of something during a game, and agreed with me. And Gellman would do roll call and not really look up to notice the person who was responding; O'Malley, on the other hand, would stop in between people and say "Hi. I'm Tim. Nice to meet you John." I just felt really comfortable right away... and I think I did some pretty good stuff in class this week, too. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Gellman wanted perfection--so I was constantly on guard, worried I'd do it "wrong"; but O'Malley said it's okay to "fuck up" and has such a laid back attitude that I feel comfortable trying new, different, and exciting things in class. I was in such a good mood after class... this semester is going to rock! (I hope)
After class, I came back to my apartment to find that Ken had showered and wanted to go out. "Okay", I thought, "why not?" We then headed to the Old Town Pub for a few pints. I'm not sure how many we had... maybe three each of Bass. Just enough to realize that the waitress wasn't attractive before but she was 'now' and that means it's time to go. Bass, by the way, tastes like beer... it does not mess around. Almost every light beer I've ever had tastes like someone pissed in some water and handed it to me. I think that's why beer is served cold... if it was room temperature, everyone would know that light beer is actually just piss.
Regardless, after three Bass, we headed back to my apartment to play more Battlefront. I'll call this portion of the trip 'Drunken' Battlefront, because we had some Jaeger and red bulls as well. And, for some reason, we were a lot better at the game when we were 'drunk'. Before we were getting 20 frags each... but, after alcohol, we were getting around 40 each. Our 'headshot' count went up too... it was like we had to concentrate so much just to make sure we didn't mess up that we were mowing people down. As we sobered up, our playing worsened... until we lost a couple matches to the computer and figured we should call it a night.
Friday: Afternoon (which was morning for us) we headed to the world famous Billy Goat Tavern on Lower Michigan Ave. I love that place because the burgers are great... but you have to come humble. Here's how my conversation went with the guy cooking the burgers: "Triple or Double?" he said, "Double." I replied, "Triple." he said back, "Triple." I decided. Yeah... you really can't choose what size you want there. It's seriously better to just go with the flow. Ken recalled that the same thing happened to him the last time we went... and then I remembered that I made him go first, saw what happened and that he looked like an ass, and made sure that I ordered a triple right away. That was last time... this time I looked like the ass. But it doesn't matter, the cook isn't going to remember us. And the burgers WERE very good. Quite good, indeed.
Before I knew it, it was time for my six o'clock call for Sweet Pumpkin Pie. *Deep sigh* Ahh... Opening night of the show. What could be more exciting? Oh, I don't know, perhaps if the theatre which claims to be capacity at 65 (it's hidden above a door, but it's there) had to pack in over 100 people. YES, my 7:30 PM Writing Five show, on opening night was PACKED! Absolutely PACKED! It was a pretty good opening night show, too. I broke during one of the scenes... so I should now be angry enough at myself to never break during this run again. I was so mad at myself for breaking. I haven't done it on stage here in Chicago (at least not during a sketch show... I'm still kind of crap during improv)(I'm not giving myself credit... I've maybe broken three times tops in all the improv shows I've done here... I'm just pissed at myself because it's so amateur).
After the show, I came out to find Ken and see what he thought. He seemed to have had a pretty good time. I then proceeded to introduce and forget to introduce him to almost everyone I knew there. I would introduce him to a few people... start talking to someone else, and forget that I hadn't introduced him to the new person yet. It happened more than I'd care to mention. After repeatedly making myself feel like a bad person and friend, we headed up to Bar Louie. This was Ken's first taste of my interaction with the people I'm working with... and I think he was interested to see how "funny people" interact with each other. Or maybe I was interested to see what he thought of what he was seeing. Or something like that. It was also an opportunity for Ken to see Kim and I interact. Yes, Kim. I think that Ken's reaction to the situation, afterwards, was something along the lines of "What the hell is she doing?" When she was "sober," she talked with me and flirted with me just like she did with everyone else. She's a flirt... but so am I. No big deal, right? But, after a few drinks, she was not really flirting with anyone else... and there was a lot of touching of the John going on. Ken doesn't get it either... and I certainly don't get it. I can't get the time of day from Sober!Kim, but Drunk!Kim thinks I'm hot to the max... and doesn't even try flirting with anyone else. I'm now convinced that she's not interested because I can't get her to say she's interested in doing anything with me while she's sober, while Ken thinks I should go for it because she IS in fact interested. Men ARE dumb... but y'all women are confusing.

Beware the Ides of March (and all that other loot that happened before it)!
I may actually have to post this in parts, as I haven't truly updated in a while. I've got some stuff from two weekends ago when I went to BR (which I might just skip), and I've got all this loot from Ken visiting and opening night of my show! I guess I'll just start typing and see how long it takes me.
First of all, let me say that, while I was preoccupied, my blog hit counter turned one year old! So, in one year, I've gotten over 8,000 hits... and I'm truly humbled whenever I think about how many people that is; and how often they come here just to read what I'm thinking.
Wednesday--In the morning, I went out to Midway on the Orange line to pick up Ken. The trip seemed to take a lot longer than I thought it would, but I was just worried about getting there to meet Ken on time. Turns out, I was early because Ken's flight was late. So I gave Mr. John Sellers the world's shortest "what's up with you?" call. I'm not joking... we talked for only maybe ten minutes. Then Ken's plane landed and it was time for me to find him. I called Ken (who had called me while I was on the phone with Sellers to tell me he had landed) and he said "I see you"... which instantly made me spin around in a paranoid circle, trying to cover all angles. He was behind me, headed to baggage claim. We exchange pleasantries (and man-hugs) and easily found his monstrosity of a green military travel bag. Then it was a hop, skip, and a jump to... about two feet away and we then had to walk back to the El stop.
Back into the city, we hit up Lou Malnati's pretty early in the evening and were treated to an almost completely empty dining area. No offense to everyone else on the planet, but I would just asoon have an entire dining room to myself and a guest than have to share it with other people. I guess I don't really share well with others. Or I hate having to listen to other people talk about mundane and meaningless poopy. People love the poopy. That should be a bumper sticker. Anyway, we had an amazing pizza and a great little talk about everything that's ever happened (freeing up the rest of his visit for video games).
But, before the video gaming could commence, I had Tech Rehearsal for Sweet Pumpkin Pie. It's going to be another show that feels like I'm on stage for the whole thing, even though I'm not in three or four scenes. It's just the way the scenes are spaced out, it seems like I don't get a break in the show until the show's almost over. I would now give you a Kim update... but there's nothing to tell. It was just a whole lotta business tonight. I did, however, get a pretty sweet trench coat for free. Joe Janes bought it for me because I needed an "over-sized" coat for one of the scenes. But, when I tried it on, it was not oversized for me. It was the right size for me. Joe said "It fits you!" all surprised when I put it on. I would have felt bad about being "big"... but I got a free trench coat, so fuck it! I hear the English wear trench coats, so I might even bring it over to England with me. I'm awesome.
So awesome, in fact, that I left rehearsal and headed back to my apartment to play Star Wars:Battlefront. Like I had previously figured, it became a game of who could get more "frags" (that's gamer talk for "kills"). Ken and I frequently got over 20 each... and often one of us would be over 40. I think Ken got the highest with like 68 or so after he hopped into an AT-AT and started blowing the Rebels back to Yavin 4. (*John goes into a horrifically dorky fit of laughter and then pushes up not one, but two pairs of glasses*) I'm such a nerd.

Something I Stole From Jean
A - AGE: 24
B - BAND LISTENED TO MOST RECENTLY: G. Love and Special Sauce
C- CRUSH: Currently? Kim, Lindsey Lohan, and I have an unhealthy man-crush on Brad Pitt.
D - DOG's NAME: I don't have a dog. But, if I did have a dog, I think I'd name him "Dog". I think that's hilarious.
E - EASIEST PERSON TO TALK TO: J. Dub
F - FAVORITE BAND: 311
G - GUMMY: I LOVE those cinnamon gummy bears. I could seriously eat like million of those.
H - HOMETOWN: I say "Big Rapids" when asked.
I - INSTRUMENT: The following are instruments I've playing in front of people (and I'm not just trying to add a whole bunch of things that are easy to play)--Trombone, guitar, vocal percussion, triangle, and cowbell
J - JUICE: Grape or Orange
K - KIDS: I'm going to treat this like the "Dog" question and give you a "what if." If I were to have a child (or children), I would name them like I was named--by the names of their grandparents on both sides. Classy.
L - LONGEST CAR RIDE: Las Vegas.
M - MOM'S NAME: Mary Joanne
N - NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: One
O - ONE WISH: That I could fly. Wait... is this supposed to be a nice, global wish to show that I'm a "good guy" and worth shagging? Um... then I wish that my flying could cure cancer.
P - PHOBIA(S): Honestly... I'm not sure what phobias I have anymore. I'm not really afraid of much, because I don't really feel like I have a lot to lose. *Idea* Oh yeah... I'm afraid of women. I forgot. So intimidating.
Q - QUOTE: "Women are like lottery tickets... some times you rub them the right way and get lucky, other times you waste money on them and feel stupid"
R - REASON TO SMILE: I can make someone's day two states away!
S - SEXIEST FEATURE: My eyes, and my unbelievably irresistible charm (humor me)
T - TIME YOU WAKE UP: Some time after the sun comes up, but BEFORE it goes back down.
U - UNKNOWN FACT ABOUT ME: As a teenager, I was so wrapped up in singing a song I made up while in the shower, that the shower lasted about 45 minutes. No, I was not doing anything gross... seriously, I was only singing that song over and over again.
V - VEGETABLE YOU HATE: um... ?
W - WORST HABIT(S): Destroying touching moments with inappropriate humor; Belittling the intelligence of intelligent people I really care about just to make myself feel better; Brutal honesty; Not flossing
X - X-RAYS YOU'VE HAD: Teeth (obviously), and my stomach when the hospital thought I might be internally bleeding after getting into a car accident in fifth grade.
Y - YUCKY FOOD: *shrug* I'm a single guy... I'll eat pretty much anything. Although, I do have trouble eating something that has a real strong rosemary flavor. I'm not a big rosemary fan.
Z - ZODIAC SIGN: Capricorn

"It's not a school a kid would bring a gun to"
I got an article off Fark about a boy who shot his hand when the GUN in his backpack, oops!, went off at school! Oh Columbus, Ohio... what a fun and liberal school system! The above is a quote from the article itself, and it reminded me (big time) of The Laramie Project. I'm sorry, Ms. Kim Bell, this IS the type of school someone would bring a gun to. It's time to start paying attention to the truth: any school is a school someone would bring a gun to. Let's figure out how to stop it.

PICTURE OF THE WEEK: I've been spending some time recently trying to figure out how I can take pictures and post them in one day. Thanks to Ken, I finally figured it out. This is the first picture of the week: Ken in front of the Chicago River which has been colored for St. Patrick's Day. He is saying, as I'm taking the picture, "This river is GREEN. It's GREEN!"
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I Stole This From Feder (Where I Get Most Of My Ideas)
If you woke up and I was in bed with you, what would be your first thought?
(Now post this in your LJ/Blog and find out what mine would be.)

The Work And The Glory OPENS!... Oh yeah, and I've got a show that opens tonight, too... but whatever!
Am I allowed to be jealous yet? I think, the worst part is that I would be jealous, if I wasn't so damned excited to go see it. I guess I don't have to be jealous... I mean, it's not like he has a building named after himself.

About To Pick Up Ken...
I'm leaving to pick Ken up from Midway in less than an hour. And I know I just posted two things today because I was "behind," but expect a little more of my behind in the next few days. I doubt I'll actually get to posting anything while Ken is here... unless he wants to post something himself (which is likely... guest stars are ALWAYS welcome on this site). I'm totally excited! Five days of vegging out, doing nothing, playing video games, laughing, and inappropriately hitting on women. I'm not sure how this will be any different than what I normally do... but I guess Ken will be here too, thereby making it different.
And, before I go, I should say something about my Intro to TV and Film class last night. It sounds like I won't be writing much in that class. The whole class, get this, is a class on how to pitch. We're pitching show ideas, series ideas, and movie ideas... as if we were in a meeting, trying to pitch our ideas to the "big wigs." Last night, we watched an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond... broke it down scripturally (heehee... get it?), took a break, and then pitched an idea for a show. Mine was a poker game between Ray and Debra (after Debra learns that she is a expert poker player). Mary Scruggs, the instructor, thought we all did well... but she had a couple tips for me when I'm pitching. It was an interesting class... and I'm not sure if I'm into it or not. It was certainly interesting... but we'll see how useful it is in a few weeks. (I have to pitch an idea for Desperate Housewives in a couple weeks. I'm actually going to need to call my peeps for a rundown of the show before I pitch it. Stupid ABC!)

Wow... At Least I'm Not a Duck
Check out this article. It is creepy... and I'm not sure what I think about it. Perhaps there is some biological/evolutionary evidence for homosexuality being as natural as heterosexually? And, along the same lines, perhaps it's okay that I'm a necrophilic.
And, while I'm on that topic, let's talk about Sweet Pumpkin Pie rehearsal Monday night. Wait... um... nevermind, let's just keep moving ahead, away from whatever led me to divulge that secret. Monday night we had our rehearsal at the ComedySportz Theatre up on Halsted. I had never been up there, so I was (as I usually am) nervous and anxious about making sure I was there on time. When I got there, I almost ran into Kim and Chris who were heading out to get some water and snacks for rehearsal. We all walked to the Walgreens that was conveniently a block away, and then came back in time for rehearsal. Rehearsal was held on the third floor of ComedySportz... in what looked like a large office space with a small stage in the middle of it. It was very surreal... but who am I to judge? I'm just an actor.
During rehearsal, there's a scene where Rachel and I are husband and wife, but we don't go on stage until the end of the scene. So, historically, we stand out in the hallway and I bite her shoulder. You know, like I do. Well, also historically, Rachel gets me back. The first time I did it, she headbutted me, saying "I have brothers, I know how to headbutt." And the headbutting is awesome... she totally does it right and I get the wobbly knee thing going on. One time she headbutted me in the temple and I had a headache for about an hour. It's awesome! So now our thing is for me to bite her shoulder and her to headbutt me back... makes me laugh every time.
Gratuitous Kim Update: I think I might have missed the window. I think there was about a week when Kim was like "I like that John guy"... and I think that week was years ago. It was back in nineteen ninety never. Right. But, regardless, I think I've moved, in her mind, from "might want to date" to "creepy guy." I'm such a douche.
The Soy Milk experiment! Yeah, that's right. There was no transition (the rest of rehearsal was boring and rehearsal-like) AND I bought some soy milk because I was interested in trying it. As Lewis Black would say, "it's not milk... it's soy juice. Because there's no soy tittie, is there? But they call it soy milk because they couldn't sell soy juice. And that's because when you say soy juice, you actually start to gag." Regardless, soy juice is not that bad. It has a different consistency than milk but, once you get over that, it's pretty good. Soy milk... check it out! (also has tons of protein... good for growing bones like mine! *looks down* Oh shit, it's true! Sorry)
Yesterday morning, when I went out to deposit a check, I came back to find that I had a package waiting for me. My dad had ordered the third season of SCTV for me! I know have the first season and the third season. I wonder if the second season just hasn't arrived yet or if he forgot to order the second season or if he said to himself "the second season of every show ever is terrible!" My money is on the second option. At any rate, the third season includes a CD of audio from The Second City in Chicago and Toronto... it's just a collection of awesome scenes and, for the most part, you don't need to see them to think they're funny. Nice.
I also got an email from the woman from Cartoon Network Europe yesterday morning. I need to submit a writing sample and send my resume. I don't know what I'm going to send... but I'm thinking that I'll probably send my "SuperHeroMan" scene because it's full of absurdity and horrible puns. That's a cartoon, right? Yeah, that's what I thought.
The rest of yesterday afternoon was spent cleaning for Ken. I am constantly surprised how long cleaning takes. And, keep in mind, I'm half-assing it and cutting corners wherever I can. I'm a guy... I don't REALLY care if it's "clean," so long as it looks clean. So it could take a lot longer if I was actually doing it "right." Perhaps this is just another example of my perfectionism getting in the way of progress. Let me tell you, being a lazy perfectionist is the most hellish existence I could imagine. "Well... that looks good enough." *starts to leave* "Wait... no it's not." *fixes it a little more, but not enough that it's perfect* "Okay! That's good enough. Except for that little part on the side there." *spends the next three hours doing this* Perhaps one day I'll realize it takes a lot less time and effort to just do it the way I want it done in the first place. That day, however, is not today. And I'll just stick with my terrible habits of just doing enough that I can move on to something else I should have done better the first time I did it. Hey! I could be put in charge of highway construction. Flamingo! *shakes head* Nothing will ever be as good as zing. *sniffle* Oh zing! How I miss you... especially with my sights off and this strong headwind. *rimshot*

Best. Mood. Ever. (part II)
Where were we? Remember, we had just finished the Cabaret adjudication in Albion... okay? Now are we all on the same page? Okay... let's go. After the adjudication, I went with Bohne, Jim, Kopec, and Chelsea and hung out in Twin. We just sat around and talked about stuff and laughed and enjoyed the company. It was nice and light... and the mood stayed light, even though I was really interested in getting into what Jim and Mike are really up to now-a-days. Well, you can't have everything. And I can always grill Jennie on what Bohne's up to if that bastard won't just go ahead and spill it.
Oh, and I need to mention this: Chelsea Sadler is hot. Like, ridiculously don't-care-that-she-has-a-boyfriend-I-like-I-still-want-him-to-die hot. There, that should appease her (I don't ever want to fight again, sugar muffins!). But, in all seriousness, having an attractive girl who flirts back with you is always a big ego boost. Can you see how my mood is going from good to better? Yeah... that's right. Attractive women... flirting with me... could only go downhill from there, right? Let's find out... *turns the page of the story book*
After hangin' out and chillin' with my crew for a couple of hours, I went out to see the incomparable Miss Karen Green at the Coffeehouse. The nature of our conversation was deep... and private. Quite private. But I can say that a reconciliation occurred that was a long time coming, and we're both better for it. The time has come, not for moving on, but for moving forward. I'm excited... and I'm ready for it.
Saturday morning I woke up pretty early... to make sure I could get everything done that I needed that day. As per usual, when staying in Bohne's apartment, I ended up waking up first and soon having Kopec join me. We even commented on it this time... every time I stay at Bohne's, Kopec and I are always the first awake. So Kopec and I talked for a bit about what we're up to, and that was nice. Even though, in one way, I want him to die... I really REALLY like Kopec. He's an awesome person who, if we had been in the same class, would have probably been all I needed to want to get involved with community service activities and student government stuff. I would have done a lot of that "good/nice" extra-curricular activity stuff. Instead I ended up being just another apathetic "artist" type who mocks everyone at all times. And so it goes...
I left Albion in a pretty good mood. I had a great conversation in the morning, and was fully ready to tackle anything the day gave me. And, as if someone up there *points skyward* wanted to make sure I would stay happy, it was an absolutely beautiful day for a drive. The sun was shining and everything seemed so light and alive... it was absolutely gorgeous outside.
While I was driving, I got a phone call from Nick. He was upset that I was in town and hadn't seen him. I felt bad, but after promising to come back to Albion in early April to see his show, we were all good. It was good to hear his voice again. *Laura-like squee*
Then I got to Kalamazoo. Since December, I have been hesitant to visit my sister in her current living situation. Karen is with Bob, if you don't know... and theirs is a nice little apartment in KZoo. Bob has a three year-old son, Tanner, whose mother, Crystal, reminds me of Kim. Not the Kim I like... Eminem's Kim. Yeah... that one. She sounds like a real psycho-bitch. And Bob reminds me a little of Em... he's a good father who would be doing a lot better if the mother of his child would just leave him the fuck alone. And I was hesitant to insert myself into the madness that is that whole living situation. But, after hearing how crappy my parents had treated Bob and Tanner the one time they came down to pick my sister up (not even going into the apartment, and being very short with Tanner), I figured it was about time someone in my family supported my sister's decision. Thus, I decided to go into the apartment and meet Tanner and get a tour of the place. It's, like I said, a cute apartment. The whole apartment is built around a central staircase that leads down to the laundry room and storage area. Think a square with a bigger square around it. The smaller square is the basement stairs, and the larger square is the living room, bedrooms, and kitchen.
And then I met Tanner. There is something I do with kids and dogs that is somewhat unique, I think. I talk to them like I talk to my peers. I just go ahead and talk to them. I think children can tell when you talk to them differently... and they can sense the condescension, even if they don't know what it's called or why you're doing it. So, when Karen said "This is Tanner" I responded with "Hey. Howz it goin'?" in my normal way. He showed me a couple of his toys and I was interested in them because, honestly, I still really like toys. And the poop they've got now-a-days is just amazing. He had this remote-controlled car that was just awesome... it flips over and everything! Then, at the top of the stairs he pointed down and said "Gotta get the monsters... pow pow pow!" This is the point when I started to realize how much the improv is paying off. Instead of brushing him off as childish... I was there with him every step of the way. He was imagining monsters? So was I! Karen and Bob remarked that Tanner had never taken to anyone so fast before... and that they thought he was "showing off" for me at one point, by pretending to be hit with something and then falling over dramatically. (Kids are fascinating!) It's no surprise to me. Children and dogs love me... probably because we have the same brain capacity. Or... um... *drools* ugh!
And then, after it seemed like we bonded, it was apparently time to go running. Remember how I mentioned that the apartment was set up like two squares? Well, you could also think of it as a track around a field. Two hallways, the living room, and the top of the stairs created a square track. So Tanner would say "Now it's time to catch... me!" and he would run and giggle; and Bob and I would look at each other and go "okay" and chase him around the square. And then he'd get tired and run to the couch and fall on it. Then he'd say "Now it's time to catch... Daddy!" and Bob and I would exchange looks; and then Bob would run, followed closely by Tanner, followed closely by me (making sure Tanner didn't fall or hurt himself). Then "Now it's time to catch... ME!" Then "Now it's time to catch... Daddy!" And, after... oh... I'd say about 40 times around the apartment (FORTY!), Tanner said "Now it's time to catch... Karen!" and my sister, who had been getting ready to go out was like "okay" and started running around the apartment. And there we were, three adults and a three year-old, running basically in a circle and laughing and laughing. The only thing that prevented me from laughing harder was the fact that I was out of breath from running around the apartment so many times. I guess I took to him pretty quickly, too.
After running and running and running, Karen and I left to have lunch at Chili's. We had a great, fun, conversation that was regularly interrupted by the waitress. And, when I say regularly... I mean it. Anyone who has ever had the misfortune of eating at a restaurant with me knows the thing I do with waitresses... the way I act. It's something I totally learned from my dad, making it his fault and not mine, deflecting all blame that one would want to place on me. Wow, I'm surprised you followed me on that (even if you didn't buy it). I bring this up because we had an especially attractive waitress named Jessica... and what I was doing wasn't "hitting" on her, because it's what I always do, but I'm sure she thought it was flirting at the very least. And Jessica checked on us (get this) at least a DOZEN times during our meal. She actually (get THIS) served our food, left, and came back to check on us after I had taken ONE bite of corn. I had been talking too, but it wasn't more than two minutes before she came back to check on us. It got to the point where my sister and I tried to figure out how to slip the fact that we were siblings and not dating into the conversation with the waitress. It just happened in the conversation, too... the waitress said something like "want dessert?" and Karen and I were both like "hmm... I don't know" and she said "I know it's a tough decision" and I said "We just like to think things through before making big decisions like this. It..." Karen and I "runs in the family." *laugh track* Nothing ever came out of the hitting on Jessica but, like I said before, attractive women flirting equals a good thing.
When I went back to drop Karen off, I went inside to say good-bye to Bob and Tanner. There they were... Bob about ready to vacuum, and Tanner pushing one of those toy vacuums. You know the kind... they have little balls that are encapsulated in a dome and they pop up when you move it back and forth. We ALL had one of those when we were younger, or at least knew someone who had one. Well, the "new" models also light up and make sound when you move them... it was AWESOME! And I was totally into it... and Tanner was like "I'm helping daddy clean!" And he was trying to show Bob how to do it right... so damn cute. After about five minutes of being totally into Tanner's toy vacuum, it was time for me to leave. As I was about to exit, Bob said "Tanner? Say good-bye to John" and Tanner said "Okay. Bye. I love you." And I melted... into a big puddle of John. I didn't know what to say though. For a three year-old, it doesn't hold the same weight that it does if a 24 year-old says it. So I said "Well, thank you very much. It was nice to meet you." I then went about shaking Bob's hand and hugging my sister good-bye. And, as I was opening the door to leave, I turned around to see them all one last time. Bob had picked up Tanner and was holding him. And Tanner said "I love you! Bye!"... there was no place for me to go at this point. I was already a melty puddle... I couldn't get any more melty or puddle-like. So I clutched my heart and said "Oh. I love you"... and I fucking meant it. *shakes head* There is something about the innocence of youth that is so refreshing. If he didn't like me, he would have let me know (I'm sure). Kids don't have tact... they let you know how they feel. And he was letting me know how he felt... *starts to tear up* cute little guy. aww... I need to run to my car before I cry.
After leaving Kalamazoo I got yet another phone call. This phone call was from the irreplaceable, omni-benevolent Miss Chelsey Wagemaker. We had previously had a falling-out of sorts and, without going into details, that was resolved during this phone call. I was reconciling and resolving left and right. I was in such a good mood, someone probably could have called and asked for money and I would have lent it to them! (The time is already up... don't try it)
So, by the time I got a phone call from Ken, I had officially labeled my mood as the "Best. Mood. Ever." He was interested to see why, and I fairly quickly ran through my weekend. We had a fairly good talk, and I'm excited to see him soon!
When I finally got back to Chicago, I was looking forward to a little nap before a night of running lines and, most probably, some form of debauchery. But, I got a call from Bohne because Jennie was in Chicago and was going to see a Second City show at the Black Orchid. So, instead of napping, I called Jennie and made sure she knew how to find the theatre (it's VERY tough to find unless you know what to look for). But I was happy to do it, because I'm happy that Jennie wanted to support the place that I'm trying to make money. ? Um... the place, through which, I am trying to make money. That makes more sense. Okay... moving on.
Saturday night was spent running lines with the Pumpkin Pie crew at Chris's. Chrises-es...? Chris's's? The house of Chris. Right. Regardless, we were together to run lines for the show. And that means that this is the perfect time for...
Gratuitous Kim update! Tonight she wore a "John Deere" hat. I think one of us made a comment that, now in the city it's cool to wear John Deere hats and "hick" clothing (like Carhartt anything); which is ironic because, where I'm from, it just makes you a hick. So to see someone purposefully wear a John Deere hat as a fashion statement and not in support of the company that makes their favorite tractor is just weird to me. But she's still hot. So unbelievably hot. And I have no chance. That's awesome.
After the run of lines, we all decided to call it a night. I went outside and waited with Kim and Rachel for Rachel's husband Ted. I figured I would just make sure that he got there and that Rachel wasn't waiting outside in the dark alone... but she asked me if I wanted a ride. Of course I'll take free transportation over paying for the El... so off we went. I got to sit in the backseat with Kim... a thrill that was short lived when she gave me the body-language equivalent of vomiting on my face. But, regardless, the ride back to my place was pretty sweet. Ted's awesome and knows all about Chicago and "the business" and Rachel's one of those people who's very easy to talk to... so, after we dropped Kim off, the conversation flowed very easily. I even gave them my Coldstone firing story, after being prompted by Rachel to spill it. So, there you have it... two days of the best mood ever. Goodnight.

Back in Chicago... will update soon!

Two Things
1) Last night was the my last Conservatory Level 1 class. And it was finally when Gellman gave me some specific feedback that was just for me. I had been under the impression that, since he didn't ever give me feedback, he didn't think I was good enough for him to even try to make me better. So tonight, when we were doing a 3 Characters/3 Scenes game, he talked to me after the second scene. He told me this: "Make your emotions stronger. Right now it's like you're on television and have a close-up on your face. The emotion reactions are good but they only get to about here." *holds hand up about three feet from me* "So just make sure you make them stronger, okay?" And then Brian, Thomas, and I did one of the funniest, quietest scenes in the entire first level. We basically only said four lines in the entire sixty seconds... but the entire class was just rolling. It felt good... and I wish I could tell you more about it, but I was just reacting to what was going on on stage, hearing the laughter.
2) I'm off to Big Rapids for a vacation weekend. I know that my regular readers get all disappointed when I don't update... but most of them are just starting their Spring Break (Albion), so it's not like they're going to check this page over their break anyway. And, if they are, ah... they really need something better to do. You're on college spring break! Don't waste your time reading my mindless rambling! Come to Chicago and get laid! Um... I mean... come to my apartme... *shakes head* that's not what I meant. I meant if you spent the night with me... um... I should get going. Have a good weekend y'all. Byes!

my hero...
I was awoken at 5:45 am this morning by something I will never, ever forget: a young woman absolutely screaming "SECURITY! SECURITY! SOMEBODY!!!" She ran up and down my hall... screaming for help. What prevented her from simply hopping on the elevator and going downstairs to the desk... I don't know, but she went from my side of the hall, to the other side of the hall, and then back to my side of the hall. And there she paced... yelling, screaming for help. Well, at the first "SECURITY!" I was awake... wondering what the hell was going on. By the time she came back to my side of the floor, I was looking through my phone for the number to the front desk. I, unfortunately, do not have the number. I don't have the phone number of my own front desk... can you believe that?
This is right about the time I'd like to tell you all how heroic I was... how I burst open my door and saved that woman from the terror she was facing. I'd like to tell you that story... and, if it was my story, I would tell you that. But that's not what happened. Fact is, I waited... I waited until I heard another calming male voice (someone else on my hallway), before I opened my door. HE had called the police. SHE went to the elevator to wait for them. THEN I slowly opened my door (after looking through my peephole for about a solid minute) to look and see what was going on. Too little, too late. I said 'hello' to my two neighbors down the hall who had opened their doors to come out. And I noticed something interesting at that moment. The voice screaming was quiet obviously a black woman's voice... the man who called the police was a mid-forties black man, and the other man who opened his door was a twenty-something black man. I was the only white person on my hall who had opened my door to see if I could help a black woman.
And it wasn't someone I didn't know... it turns out that the woman screaming was the nice woman at the end of my hall. We had joked about my laundry once... and I know she lives with her very young child. I was only waiting in my doorway for about another minute and a half before the police showed up. At least five officers (that I could see) showed up. They went to her apartment... from what I could gather from the screaming and from one of the other men who opened her door, a man just came into this woman's apartment. He just opened the door ("No signs of forced entry" the police would say), and came in. That would freak my shit out, too. By the time the police came, the man was gone... meaning if I had stuck my head out in time, I would have saw him. She would later rant, saying "I should've shot that mother fucker."
I wish I could say something about being brave... but there's absolutely nothing I can say that will change the fact that, when someone needed me... when someone HONESTLY needed ME to help... I froze--too scared to move. I was too afraid to help. Afraid I'd open the door to help and get a gun pointed in my face. I'll give the Chicago PD some credit... when they're not firing psychos from ice cream stores, they're handling situations like this, and they seemed to handle it very well. Seemed to... I don't know if anything is actually going to happen now... if the "perp" will actually be caught or if anything will change besides my heartrate... or how safe I feel at night... or anything. Good morning.

Job Update
I got an email back from the Digital Bootcamp place. They want my actual resume now, which is weird because they made me fill out their own weird application on their website. But I suppose this is how they do it? Ask you to fill out their application and, if they like your answers enough they ask for your actual resume? Right, so, as soon as I cut all the irrelevant crap out of my resume and figure out what I DO want to say about myself, I'll send that out. I'm not AS excited about this as I am the Cartoon Network thing (I emailed the woman back today), but it's something a little more immediate. And I need the money to support my "woman" habit. Ooo... that's right.

Funniest. Donkey-Punch. Ever.
Posted by Hello

Too Good To Keep To Myself
Here's a link to a list of words that NFL.com won't print on their personalized jerseys. My guess is that one of the nicknames I have for you is on this list. See if you can figure out which one!

Surprise!... Best. Mood. Ever. (part I)
The first part of the title is easy: I swiftly--quiet like the ninja--spent Friday night... in Albion! Funny thing about Albion, I only let Bohne and Randi know I was coming... and by the time I got there, my presence was not really a surprise. Ah... the massive interweaving that is Albion. How I... will never miss that. Oh well. I went to admissions at 5 to pick up Randi from work. I had been meaning to force Randi to show me her building... but I forgot by the time I actually got to Albion and saw her. Fortunately for me, Randi mentioned that we had to make "one quick stop" before dinner. She had actually planned on giving me a tour! So I got to see the whole equestrian facility. I was surprised that I didn't see a single swimming pool. (*Rimshot*) Thank you, I'll be here for a lot longer than I planned. I don't know what I was getting at there, but my point is that I finally got a chance to see Randi's building: The Randi Cristine Heathman Memorial Arena and Breakfast Buffet. It was impressive. Ooh, now I'm just being an ass. In all honesty, I was very proud to see it. It was as if something that I saw Randi create, something that I was around when it was created... came to fruition. There it was: all of Randi's hardwork... the nights spent on her thesis; from idea to actual... I give Randi a lot of shit about having a building but, seeing it, I was very proud of her.
After seeing RCH Memorial, Randi and I went to Applebees in Jackson... taking the 'long way.' We were able to catch up on A LOT of stuff even before we got to Applebees (which means I was able to laugh at her for a lot of stuff). And then, when we got there, we had perhaps the busiest waitress in the history of food service. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Applebees is trying to keep up with TGIFridays in that they too have a "appetizer, entree, desert" special. So I got the 'Italian' one which included logs of fried cheese (better known as mozzarella sticks). It was SO MUCH food... and when I ordered dessert I was already pretty full. Thankfully Randi agreed to share with me (but she won't agree that we've been on enough dates to make us, technically, newlyweds). (It's true). So I ordered this white chocolate/raspberry cheesecake (sounds good, doesn't it?), and the busy waitress brought the brownie thing instead. If there had been less people there, I probably would have made her bring it back... but, as it was, she dropped off the plate at the table and left so fast I didn't even get a word out such as "But..." or "Hey!". The brownie was good. Heehee... I'm being boring on purpose because I'm not sure if I should include what Randi and I talked about and my reaction to it or not. I suppose I can say this: For all the shit I give Randi, I'm very proud of how she's handling the difficult life-style that is an admissions recruiter. The more I heard about what she does, the more it sounded like the life my friend Adam leads as a stand-up comedian: A life of both solitude and heightened sections of being 'on' for other people. "If it was easy, everyone would do it"
Then it was time for the show: Cabaret. As Randi and I approached the theatre, we saw Starko outside taking a phone call. I said hello and told him that I was expecting big things! He said that I was not the only alumni in the audience tonight. The other one of note: Jimmy Shy! Holy crapballs! He made the trip from D.C. I can't wait to get into the theatre and... what's the deal with this line of people? The line stretched from the box office to the front door of the Dow. And there Randi and I were, at the end of it. I'm pretty sure I made a comment once or twice about being too important to wait in line... but no one else thought it was true. And Randi thought I was an idiot... and always feels embarrassed when I drag her out in public. But she didn't have to feel embarrassed for long, because my night of having people say "hey... I remember you!" started right away. Mrs. Green, Karen's mom, was waiting out in the lobby when Randi and I arrived. She was giving directions to the theatre to her other daughter, Kathy, who was running late to see the show. She was on the phone and gave me a little wave... and then proceeded to move in for a hug. "Why not?" I thought. Then I waited about a minute until she was off the phone, and she and I started talking. She was complimentary (saying I looked good, had obviously lost weight, and looked younger) and was positive about what I was doing in Chicago. And, as she was telling me a story about her most recent trip to Chicago, we were interrupted by "John Steeno!" Mr. Jason Kennedy had entered and was now behind me in line. I shook his hand and was about to go back to talking to Mrs. Green when she took what she thought was her cue to leave. I was, in fact, wanting to go back to the conversation... but I've seen other parents do it to: when one of our peers start talking to us, they think it's a sign to move on. It just sucks because I wanted to hear about her trip to Chicago. Don't get me wrong, I like Jason Kennedy (yes, I said it... and I say it again, 'I like him'), but that was rude and just flat out unclassy to interrupt me during a conversation. Regardless, it happened, and I was now talking to Jason about what is up with him. He's in Cinncy doing something that sounds terribly boring and like something he didn't want to do when he got there. I'm always interested to see if he's still writing because, despite the obvious flaws to some of his work... he does write pretty memorable shit. I mean, you still remember most of it, and some of you never even heard or read his stuff. Additionally, despite the weirdness to a lot of it... I could see what he was trying to do with his work, and my frustration stemmed from it being so close but just not quiet there. I know some of the people in the writing circle (I'm not naming names, but they might respond to this post... so they'll name their own names) thought his writing was pure shit... but I always thought it was just on the verge of being something very good. And I thought he had the drive to make his work better... which a lot of writers don't have (I've even worked with one of those people here at Second City. His stuff was good... but he never did rewrites. I guess he just figured he was done with it after the first draft).
After the long wait in line, Randi and I finally got tickets (Randi remarked halfway to the ticket booth "I guess I should have picked these up this afternoon"... to which I responded "Stab" in her face). As we got the tickets, we saw that Dr. Crupi was a few people in line behind us. We waited for him to get his tickets and then I forced him to say he's going to teach for another year. Yes, you can all thank me for Dr. Crupi, arguably the best teacher I ever had, teaching for one more year after this one. I did it by the cunning use of the phrase "I cried when I heard you were retiring" which I expertly followed by "A part of me died inside that day." I didn't actually say the last bit... but the crying bit I did say.
Randi and I FINALLY made it into the theatre... and it was already pretty packed. We were having a tough time figuring out where we could get two seats next to each other. Actually, Randi had a tough time... I was just looking for Jim. What? Randi and I work as a team... she does the "work" portions and I do the "fun" stuff. Both are equally important. Fortunately for us, they worked in conjunction... as there were two empty seats right behind Jim. Unfortunately for me, the seats were in the middle of a very full row of people (and I HATE stepping over and around people to get into a seat), AND the woman next to the empty seats did the "hand palm down over seats" thing which normally means "these seats are reserved"... so I got to our row thoroughly confused. I decided to roll with it... and I think about half the theatre was watching me and Randi decide whether or not to move into the middle of this row. Enough people were watching, at least, that I heard another "John Steeno" from in front of me and saw that one girl from choir whose name escaped me both then and now. I am a terrible man with a terrible memory. At least I waved.
And, for all the crap Randi and I had to go through to actually get to our seats... we might have had the best seats in the house. We were dead center stage, about half-way up. Pretty sweet how that all works out, eh?
THE PLAY'S THE THING
I know that most people don't care what I thought about the play, but please just humour me (in England). I had never seen Cabaret. I had never heard the score to Cabaret. I knew very little about Cabaret besides the fact that it was a musical (which I historically hate), and it was one of those "emotional" musicals that aren't funny but are supposed to make you think or something (which I think I hate more than just normal musicals). So, I'm not going to lie, I went into this play thinking that I would support my friends, and tell them they did well if they did or awkwardly try to find words if they didn't do particularly well. To say I was pleasantly surprised is probably the most understated understatement in the history of statements made under things. (huh?) Because this was such a strong PLAY (even though it had music), I'm going to treat it like I would any other play.
The audience was immediately hit by the strength of Groggel's character. Like him or not, the audience had to immediately recognize how solid the character was in voice/accent, personality, and even in song. All I could think was "Oh shit... that's good." I liked the space right away, too. The orchestra was above the stage, looking down on the action from a place that I am very impressed they felt comfortable being... there was one stairway on stage that led up to a catwalk in front of the orchestra (which I figured they'd use for grand entrances, and they did). The revolving stage was interesting, too... allowing for another scene to be set up while the audience watched the current one. I'm sure this took a lot more coordination than the audience ever recognized... and isn't that the purpose of good stage-hands? We only noticed them when something went wrong (which happened once, yes... but the audience was a whole lot more appreciative of the process after we saw it take four or five guys to rotate the stage).
Then we were introduced to Cliff (Bohne). Michael Joseph did a fabulous job, but I must say that his character isn't interesting until almost the end of act one. As the only American in the show, Cliff represents the American audience and, as such, is the personification of the audience's naivete and wonder while in this new fascinating world. As such, we saw a lot of Bohne standing and reacting to what these weird new people were saying... and we saw Bohne having to react to other people's songs on stage, too. Do NOT get me wrong, Bohne played it extremely well... it's just not a very interesting role until near the end of the first act when we see him take a stand against Nazism. But there, again, he is simply the personification of the American point of view. And I wish he would have sang more in the show. But that's just me.
We were introduced to Fraulein Schneider. The audience has an instant (I feel) connection to her and Herr Schultz. As good as this script is (and it's very good), these are the two "real" characters that the audience is allowed to care about right away. Even characters that we eventually care for, allow us in too late in the game for us to really connect with them. Cliff, as I mentioned before, is too reactionary for us to connect with his character; and there's something so obviously fake about Sally Bowles... she is obviously running from something, doesn't let us know where she's from, hops from man to man by the week... that we find it hard to connect to her character until near the end of act one as well. But there was an instant connection to Schneider, who lets Cliff stay for less than she normally takes for the room. But her laissez faire attitude exemplified by the "So What" song is a bit of a farce... because that's not really her character. I'm still confused as to why she sings that song... because she obviously cares about what Fraulein Kost is doing, and she cares when Sally decides to move in, and she cares about Schultz. So that song sung by that character makes no sense. Regardless, Feder was lovable as Schneider... and the whole show could have been her and Schultz and I don't know if anyone would have minded.
But that would have been a fluffy/happy play. And that wasn't this particular play. We wait patiently, as an audience, throughout the entire first act for something big to happen, and we are not disappointed. When Ludwig took off his jacket at the marriage reception to reveal the Nazi armband, the entire audience went "Gasp!" and I went "Gasp! Oh... that's good. That's so good." Ludwig (Minjoe) had won over the audience throughout the entire first act... and seeing a "good guy" with the armband brings in so many deep seeded feelings, that they just exploded out of the audience in a *gasp* (or they were rapidly exchanged for oxygen... hence the gasp). The feelings we have against Nazis are SO GREAT that to hear them singing the "Tomorrow Belongs To Me" song is incredibly powerful. So powerful, in fact, that it didn't need to be cheese-dicked up by adding the "spooky" lights and having everyone on stage put on their "scary" face. I would have been far more impressed had the Nazis presented themselves as they had a second before: happy, German people. I suppose we have such strong feelings of hate that we can't possibly imagine Nazis as normal people. But that's where the power of this moment came from... why not play it up? Minjoe still could have looked ominous... but it would have been more effective, to me, had the rest of the chorus sang it neutrally... or even happily. I thought the addition of the dancers surrounding the audience with Nazi armbands added to the effect... and could have helped alleviate the "need" for the chorus to look psychotic out of nowhere trying to emphasize the fact that Nazis are bad.
But, at that moment, I saw a play for the first time in a very odd way: I saw it as if from a blimp... watching the performance of the play, watching the audience reacting, watching myself reacting, and watching the writing itself. It was a transcendent experience... being able to see the writing, the direction, the acting, and the effect it had on an audience simultaneously. And, even though it was done a little cheese dick, it was still incredibly powerful and moving.
So moving, in fact, that I had to use the restroom. It was the intermission, so it was all good. And, during intermission, I got a chance to see Royal... my surrogate father. Aww... I miss Royal. I know. There are few connections as deep and as meaningful as a good director and an actor who work well together. And that's exactly what it was: a work relationship... that 'worked' so incredibly well. Joe Janes is the new Royal... because I think he and I work well together. It starts with a mutual level of respect, and that needs to couple itself with being on the same page and having the same vision, and you have to be able to add to that an easy back-and-forth communication... I think it's probably pretty rare, which is why I feel such a strong connection to Royal and to Joe.
The only thing I'm going to say about act two (besides that it was good and that we were able to connect to all of the characters finally) was that the ending was very well done. They didn't do a normal curtain call... they did a kind of tableau and the lights went to blue and I thought to myself "My God... this IS the curtain call." I had wanted to stand and applaud them, because the show was so well done (what Robert McKee would call "Good Story Well Told") that I wanted to show my appreciation. In my defense, I noticed while it was happening that I should be standing... but I didn't notice soon enough. They were off stage, and I knew they weren't coming back. It's interesting... because the whole audience waited for them to come back. I ended up being the first one to stand (Alex Rivera was actually first, but most people couldn't tell. Redwood Whore!). Such a fabulous moment... but I wish I had been faster. *shakes head* Old guys... what can you do?
Against my better judgment, I stuck around for the adjudication. I actually agreed with a lot she had to say, but she then proceeded to say the most tactless thing I've ever heard at an adjudication. She mentioned one of Andy's costumes not fitting particularly well around the waist and she thought that was a great costuming move as it added to the humor of his character. In response, Andy said that her ugly face was a good move too, as it added to the humor of her adjudication. Foilage! I've got nothing.
End Part I... please flip tape over and start side two.

Quick Update
I just wanted y'all to know that I heard back from the woman from Cartoon Network Europe. I asked her two questions in my first email: Do I have to create shows or would I be writing for existing shows? and is it a detriment that I've never been to Europe? She responded that they're really just looking for writers for existing shows (which is what I'm better at, I would think. I think I'm actually pretty good at taking existing characters and writing something new with them. I'm far better at that than I am at creating something completely new). And she's an American herself... saying that people seem to be putting up with her sense of humor over there so I should be fine.
In conclusion, I will probably email her again later today asking how I would go about starting this process (I'M GOING TO WRITE CARTOONS!!!!!!!!)... and hopefully asking a couple more intelligent questions. Just thought you'd like to know.
Additionally, I've got a HUGE post from this weekend (lots of stuff happened), and I'm thinking I might break it up into a few parts lest I take forever to actually write it. *shakes head* Just keep checking back.

Useless Facts
I also got this website of random facts from Fark. I'm going to share my favorite ones... starting from the bottom of the page. Maybe, if you're lucky, some will be presented with "Crazytary":
The average person laughs 15 times a day. (I'm personally forcing someone somewhere not to laugh ever to keep the balance. I laugh a lot)
Bats always turn left when exiting a cave. (the Batmobile cannot make right turns)
Chewing gum while peeling onions will keep you from crying. (unless you've been punched in the face)
Like fingerprints, everyone's tongue print is different. (so it's special when I lick you)
It's against the law to slam your car door in Switzerland. (how is that prosecuted?)
In space, astronauts cannot cry, because there is no gravity, so the tears can't flow. (this fact would be perfect in a poem. Nick, work on it)
Some ribbon worms will eat themselves if they can't find any food. (also good for a poem)
Thomas Edison, light bulb inventor, was afraid of the dark. (The Earl of Sandwich was afraid of Subways [this one is such a stretch, I don't think even I get it])
The State of Florida is bigger than England. ('bigger', not 'smarter')
You're born with 300 bones, but when you get to be an adult, you only have 206. (OMG... where did my bones go?!)
One in every 4 Americans has appeared on television. (not as special as you think, is it?)
Until 1796, there was a state in the United States called Franklin. Today it is known as Tennessee. (and, from the University of Franklin, Peyton Manning)
Peanuts are one of the ingredients in dynamite. (that's why we get all those warnings "may contain peanuts")
It is possible to lead a cow upstairs but not downstairs. (this is one of those facts that makes you go: "interesting, but that makes sense")
Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair. (from the "tough to test your theory" file)
Chances that a burglary in the US will be solved: 1 in 7 ("Any leads on finding my briefcase?" "Yeah... there are four of us. Working in shifts" *Police Officer laughs... The Dude puts on sunglasses and drives away*)
Portion of land in the US owned by the government: 1/3 (they own us, too)
Percentage of mammal species that are monogamous: 3
Percentage of American men who say they would marry the same woman if they had it to do all over again: 80
Percentage of American women who say they would marry the same man: 50
Percentage of men who say they are happier after their divorce or separation: 58
Percentage of women who say they are happier: 85
A kiss stimulates 29 muscles and chemicals causing relaxation. Women seem to like it light and frequent, men like it more strenuous. (hey, I'll take light and frequent!)
Bullet proof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers and laser printers were all invented by women. (from the "in your FACE John" file. But it is understandable why women would have to invent the bullet proof vest. Yogurt! [still working on replacing 'Zing'])
If you were to spell out numbers, you would you have to go until 1,000 until you would find the letter "A". (from the "too much time on our hands" file)
In a recent survey, Americans revealed that banana was their favorite smell. (pass me that banana cologne, would you?)
Moisture, not air, causes super glue to dry. (from the "don't blow on it!" file)
According to Genesis 1:20-22 the chicken came before the egg. (that answers that question definitively)
A baby is born without kneecaps. They appear between age 2 and 6. (why Terminator 2 featured no babies)
A female ferret will die if it goes into heat and cannot find a mate. (I sometimes wish I was a ferret)
A blind chameleon still changes colors to match his environment. (trippy!)
Mark Twain was born on a day in 1835 when Halley's Comet came into view. When he died in 1910, Halley's Comet was in view again. (Mark Twain: the first member of "Heaven's Gate")
A flamingo can eat only when its head is upside down. (and in a toilet)
If you know a millionaire who happens to be married, what is the most likely profession of his wife? She's probably a teacher. (I'm in the wrong profession... and I also shouldn't be a man?)
In 1998, more fast-food employees were murdered on the job than police officers. (well, at least I'm not in THAT profession)
Point Roberts in Washington State is cut off from the rest of the state by British Columbia, Canada. If you wish to travel from Point Roberts to the rest of the state or vice versa, you must pass through Canada, including both Canadian and U.S. customs. (am I the only one who really wants to go there now?)
It is believed that Shakespeare was 46 around the time that the King James Version of the Bible was written. In Psalms 46, the 46th word from the first word is "shake" and the 46th word from the last word is "spear". (Most Obscure Fact Ever! We found it!)
Woodward Avenue in Detroit, Michigan carries the designation M - 1, named so because it was the first paved road anywhere. (see? all you people from Detroit? You're good for something)
65% of Elvis impersonators are of Asian descent. (nothing I could say could make this funnier)
Ted Turner owns 5% of New Mexico. (disgusting)
Montpelier, Vermont is the only state capitol without a McDonald's. (this won't last long)
Pope John Paul II is the world's Scrabble champion in the over-70 category. (Represent PJPII!)
All polar bears are left handed. (they die earlier than grizzly bears, which are all right handed)
The Bible has been translated into Klingon. (again, the "too much time on our hands" file)
The National Anthem of Greece has 158 verses. ("we've been here for three days! Is the song done yet?")
Dolly Parton once lost a Dolly Parton Look-Alike contest. (she lost to her boobs, which came in first and second, respectively)
The chance that you will die on the way to buy your lottery ticket is greater than the chance of you winning the big prize in most lotteries. (they're 'government issued securities')
Albert Einstein never knew how to drive a car. (who's smarter now, Einstein?)
The UK's best selling hiking magazine published faulty coordinates for descending Scotland's tallest peak (Ben Nevis), and recommended a route that leads climbers off the edge of a cliff. (another example that Brits hate Scots. Go Albion!)
In a nod to astronauts, Texas is the only state that permits residents to cast absentee ballots from space. (or maybe it's because, while he was governer, W. really thought he cornered "the Martian vote")
We forget 80 percent of what we learn everyday. (wait... what was that statistic?)
The New York Times reports that in February 2004, 62% of all e-mail was spam. (I hate SPAM)
In the film Forrest Gump, all the still photos show Forrest with his eyes closed. (interesting film trivia... makes me want to see it again)
Amusement park attendance goes up after a fatal accident. It seems many people want to ride upon the same ride that killed someone. (and they call ME crazy?!)
World War II veterans are now dying at the rate of about 1,100 each day. (that's terrible!)
George W. Bush is probably going to be the eighth president in US history to have completed a term in office without ever having issued a single veto. (when asked to comment, Bush said "Everyone seems to be doing a pretty good job writin' those laws and stuff.")
Hostess Twinkies were originally filled with banana filling. The filling was changed during World War II when the United States experienced a banana shortage. (on a related note, before WWII Twinkies used to be everyone's favorite smell [see above])
71% of office workers stopped on the street for a survey agreed to give up their computer passwords in exchange for a chocolate bar. (in a related story, a terrorist organization has just bought Hershey's)
David Bowie thinks he is being stalked by someone who is dressed like a giant pink rabbit. Bowie has noticed the fan at several recent concerts, but he became alarmed when he got on a plane and the bunny was on board. (David Bowie has been watching Donnie Darko repeatedly)
When Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen turn 18 in mid-2004, they will take official control of a company worth more than the gross national product of Mongolia. Their earnings in 2003 topped $1 billion. (that is so disgusting. I hate capitalism)
On average, 40% of all hotel rooms in the United States remain empty every night. (remember that if you're traveling someplace without hotel reservations... hotels are FAR more likely to stick you in a room late at night, even if you barter with them for a lower price)
20% of Americans think that the sun orbits around the Earth. (the latest census shows that 20% of Americans live in Texas. Coincidence?)
The IRS admits that one in five people who call their help line get the wrong answer to their question. (*shakes head*)
So far, Congress has authorized $152,600,000,000 for the Iraq war. This is enough to build over 17,500 elementary schools. (no comment)
If you hook Jell-O up to an EEG, it registers movements almost identical to a human adult's brain waves. (also if you hook Jell-O up to an EEG, it is still delicious)
In 2004, one in six girls in the United States enter puberty at age 8. A hundred years ago, only one in a hundred entered puberty that early. (who's up for lowering the age of consent?! Nobody?... well then this fact is just sad then)
Seven percent of Americans claim they never bathe at all. (the latest census shows that 7% of Americans live in Kentucky)
In 1985, the most popular waist size for men's pants was 32. In 2003, it's 36. (I'm popular again!)
A chef's hat is shaped the way it is for a reason: its shape allows air to circulate around the scalp, keeping the head cool in a hot kitchen. (not to get chicks? interesting)
Al Gore's roommate in college (Harvard, class of 1969) was Tommy Lee Jones. (this is easily a Second City scene. I'm working on the script)
Each year, more people are killed by teddy bears than by grizzly bears. (Roosevelt should have shot that bear!)
La Paz, Bolivia is the world's most fireproof city. At 12,000 feet about sea level, the amount of oxygen in the air barely supports a flame. (so, if you're ever on fire, hold your breath. Wait... that's not the point)
Oprah Winfrey and Elvis Presley are distant cousins. (They are part of the "Disgustingly Wealthy" family)
If the recent U.S. election was held in Canada, John Kerry would have beaten George Bush in a landslide - 64% to 19%. (this just in... John Kerry has just been elected the President of Canada)
Mel Gibson has personally earned almost $400,000,000 from his movie "The Passion of the Christ". (take THAT Jesus!)
George W. Bush, who presents himself as a man of faith, rarely goes to church. Yet he won nearly two out of three voters who attend church at least once a week. (take THAT Jesus!)
A ten year old mattress weighs double what it did when it was new, because of the -ahem- debris which is absorbed through the years. That debris includes dust mites (their droppings and their decaying bodies), mold, millions of dead skin cells, dandruff, animal and human hair, secretions, excretions, lint, pollen, dust, soil, sand and a lot of perspiration, of which the average person loses a quart per day. Good night! (all I have to say is this: How old do you think those beds in Albion are? Good night, indeed!)
90% of Canada's 31,000,000 citizens live within 100 miles of the U.S. border. (They want to be us... hello?!)
The day after President George W. Bush was reelected, Canada's main immigration website had 115,000 visitors. Before Bush's re-election, this site averaged about 20,000 visitors each day. (from the "I would have done it if I had thought of it" file)
More than 2,500 left-handed people are killed each year from using products that are made for right-handed people. (stupid rightys! I just want to use some scissors!)
The time spent deleting SPAM costs United States businesses $21.6 billion annually. (I HATE SPAM!!!)

(and finally, MY PERSONAL FAVORITE) 60.7 percent of eligible voters participated in the 2004 presidential election, the highest percentage in 36 years. However, more than 78 million did not vote. This means President Bush won re-election by receiving votes from less than 31% of all eligible voters in the United States.

"No, Honey, I'm Doing It To Get Healthy!"
I've been going to Fark.com for almost a week now. It's full of the weird and useless... which is the only information I'm really interested in. Here is a story posted today that I HAD to share. The below is taken from this page. Enjoy:
"An Eyeful a Day Keeps the Doctor Away
by Jonathan Hayter

Staring at women's breasts is good for men's health and makes them live longer, a new survey reveals. Researchers have discovered that a 10-minute ogle at women's breasts is as healthy as half-an-hour in the gym. A five-year study of 200 men found that those who enjoyed a longing look at busty beauties had lower blood pressure, less heart disease and slower pulse rates compared to those who did not get their daily eyeful.
Dr Karen Weatherby, who carried out the German study, wrote in The New England Journal of Medicine: "Just 10 minutes of staring at the charms of a well-endowed female is roughly equivalent to a 30-minute aerobics workout. Sexual excitement gets the heart pumping and improves blood circulation. There is no question that gazing at breasts makes men healthier. Our study indicates that engaging in this activity a few minutes daily cuts the risk of a stroke and heart attack in half. We believe that by doing so consistently, the average man can extend his life 4 to 5 years."
She added that sexy stars like Dolly Parton, Heather Locklear, Anna Nicole Smith and Demi Moore had proved to be especially good for the men's health.
Source: the web"

I would think engaging in that activity would INCREASE the chance of stroke. Fondue! (I'm trying to replace 'Zing!' for Mike Bohne... but I still feel the need to punctuate jokes)
In a related note, here is a list my friends who, whether they knew it or not, I would like to thank for my prolonged life......

The Most Blasphemous Post... Ever
This morning I went to the Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago to see Jennie and the Alma College Choir. Chicago is the first stop of their choir spring break tour... and the Fourth Presbyterian was their first concert of the week. The choir sounded wonderful, and I had fun watching the faces of the choir members; amusing myself by figuring out who was nervous and didn't really remember the songs, who thought they were "King Shit of Poop Mountain", and who was there just having fun. And I pretty literally had to bite my tongue to stop myself from singing along with "Witness" arranged by Jack Halloran (a song I sang at Albion) ["... and my strength will come, like a natural MAN" <--last note sung as low as possible, I loved it].
I also enjoyed the sermon today. The Pastor, John Buchanan, first read from John book 4... it's the story about Jesus at the well with the Samaritan woman, if you know enough to remember that story (sometimes called "The Woman at the Well"... I remembered the story). My initial reaction to hearing this story is that (bare with me) Jesus of Nazorith is an incredibly complicated literary charactor. And, if I were to have to play Jesus of Nazorith in a play or movie, and did my "actor's homework" on him... I would find it incredibly difficult. When one thinks of Jesus, one conjures thoughts of miracles and love and healing. But then, hearing a story like the one today, I'm struck with a thought like "What a dick." The story of the woman at the well starts with Jesus saying "Give me some water to drink." He doesn't ask polietly, he instructs her to give him water. When she points out that Jews normally want nothing to do with Samaritans, he says "If you had known the gift of God and who it is who said to you, 'Give me some water to drink,' you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water." Which is fairly pompous and the Biblical equavalent of Bill Gates saying, 'Yeah... when I asked you for a dollar, if you knew who I was, you would have asked ME for a dollar.' When the woman says the equavalent of "That makes no sense," Jesus then goes on to say "everyone who drinks some of this water will be thirsty again. But whoever drinks some of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again." It would be at this point that I would say "Then why are you asking me for water if you've got water that keeps one from being thirsty forever?" But I kept thinking, "what a jerk." There are stories in the New Testament that make Jesus seem like a show-off, or cocky, or psychotic, or as if he's judging people exactly at the same time he's telling them not to judge others... and I think it's because his story is written by four different authors.
There are common threads, but you get a different perspective... a different characterization. And I think, as a Christian listening to the gospels, you're stuck with this feeling that everything in the Bible is "capital T Truth." There is little room for interpretation, particularly in passages where a story told about Jesus is presented as a factual historical biography of who this man was. I think it's tough to wrap your mind around the perceived infallibility of Jesus when you're presented with stories that seem, at times, contrary to what you heard he stood for.
But here's where everything got really interesting: Pastor Buchanan started his sermon about the passage. I've heard the woman at the well story at least half a dozen times in Catholic churches (a favorite passage during Lent), and every time I hear it, the priest would talk about the living water... and how we're all supposed to accept Jesus as savoir and we'll live forever without "thirst." But that wasn't Buchanan's message. He started talking about the tension between Jews and Samaritans... and about how a Jewish man wouldn't share anything with a Samaritan, how a Rabbi wouldn't speak with a Samaritan, and how a Jewish man certainly wouldn't speak to a Samaritan woman. He went on to talk about the woman at the well who "had no husband"--she was married five times and was currently living with a sixth man. The Pastor pointed out that she was at the well at noon (which is written in this passage)... which was probably because she was a social outcast in her village because of her marrital indescresion. Most people in the village would go to the well when it was cool, like the morning or evening... but this woman went at noon, when the sun was at it's brightest and most unforgiving, precisely BECAUSE she KNEW no one else was going to be there. And not only did a Jewish Rabbi speak to her, but he did not condemn her even though he seemed to divinely know that she had married five men and was living with a sixth. The woman then goes back to the village, tells them about a great Jewish man who knew about her but did not condemn her... and the whole village comes out to see Jesus. They are so impressed by him, and wanted to hear his words, that they ask him to stay with them. This is the equvalence of... I don't know, perhaps an American being welcomed by a town of Communists during the Cold War. It is incredible that Jesus, a Jewish Rabbi, would be asked to stay by a village of Samaritans. It was the logical, human side of this story that Pastor Buchanan spoke about... and the point of the story finally hit me. It was about INCLUSION... about being human to other humans, regardless of the societal disagreements. Pastor Buchanan then went on to say that he has been criticised for saying that Christianity doesn't necessarily superceed Judism in his mind... that all differences in faith should be celebrated instead of hated. He also spoke against using God as a reason for war. All I could think, sitting in the pew was "FINALLY! Someone gets it!" And perhaps there was something about Pastor Buchanan treating the woman at the well passage as a story that really intrigues me... it's not as if the point of it is lost if I view it as a story filled with metaphor rather than biographical fact. The point of the story is... THE POINT! Isn't it? Or, should I ask, shouldn't it be?
I checked the church's website online and they have a forum that welcomes gays, lesbians, and their friends and family. I don't think you heard me, especially if you're listening as a Catholic: WELCOMING GAYS AND LESBIANS... in, what they call, the 'inclusive light of God.' Perhaps one of the most irritating, frustrating things about organized Christian religions to me is the pure hatred and disdain they have for homosexuals... and the absolute hypocrisy that is if they truly are trying to love everyone as Christians. Saying that they love all people, but being able to fairly nonchalantly condemn others to "Hell"... makes me sick.
I guess my point is that I was really interested in what the Pastor had to say... and I'm interested in seeing if the entire parish is as liberal and progressive as the pastor seemed to be today. I'll probably go back there in a couple Sundays... and I'll make sure I dress up a little better (yeah, even khaki pants and the $80 J Crew shirt Brian gave me when he moved made me feel under-dressed. Next time I go, I'm going with a full suit, baby [What? I like wearing suits]).

"Say hello to everything you've left behind
It's even more a part of your life now that you can't touch it"
- 'The Nurse Who Loved Me'... a simply beautiful song

More on this soon... A CrazyJohn surprise visit! But, for now, I'm going on no sleep (yes, again)... and it's time to try to catch up a bit. See you all soon :)

Randy Moss... the Numbers Game
I've been trying to keep up with the NBA trade deadline (probably my favorite trade deadline... maybe second only to baseball's trade deadline. But in the NBA, you get big names traded for big names. In the NHL [back when there was such a thing] and MLB, you get big names traded for crap). Anyway, ESPN has been going back and forth from basketball to the Randy Moss trade. I've been thinking, about this Randy Moss thing... and this has nothing to do with anything, but check it out: Jerry Porter is number 84; Randy Moss was number 84... what happens to #84 now? Is Randy a bitch about it (which I think he will be)? or does Randy take another number with the Raiders? Does he take #81, Tim Brown's old number (that should be retired with the Raiders but won't ever be), or does he take #80, Jerry Rice's old number (which should be retired by the 49ers, Raiders, and the Seahawks [again] when HE retires). Every other 80 number is already taken. He wore #88 in college, perhaps he pays Doug Jolley to take the number from him. And, for those of you that don't think the number is a big deal, get this: Last year, Eli Manning bought punter Jeff Feagles a vacation for his whole family in exchange for his #10. The jersey number can/is important to a lot of athletes. So don't simply disregard this whole thing as being silly. Well, it is silly... but I'm still interested to see what happens. Porter is full of himself enough to not give up #84... and Moss is full of himself enough to want it. When two huge egos butt heads, it always makes for interesting drama. Or it makes for something that's going to force me to take a nap... right now.

"Hello...?" 'echo echo echo' "Which aisle is the cereal?" echo echo... wait, we meant 'real real real'
Yesterday, like I said, I got pretty tired half-way through the day. I just decided to hit the hay and not set an alarm... see what happens! Well, I'll tell you what happens: I ended up sleeping all day. I slept from about 2:30 to 8. I apparently needed it. Unfortunately, here I am, Thursday morning... having not slept all night. My body is so fucked up... I eat irregularly, I sleep irregularly, and whenever I get back on track, something happens that messes me up again. If it's not an illness, it's mental or hanging out til all hours or just being an idiot. I'm not sure how to get my life back on a regular schedule... although, maybe, the job I'm seeking will do that for me (by 'maybe', I mean 'it will').
Raiders/Vikings trade of Randy Moss...? ESPN.com reports Randy Moss is headed to the Raiders here. This is just another reason why I will get to hate the Raiders (Warren Sapp's still there; Tim Brown and Jerry Rice are gone). I think the Raiders definitely got the better of this deal... as they will now have Jerry Porter on one side and Randy Moss on the other (say good-bye to Rich Gannon, by the way... they're building a big-play Kerry Collins team right now). The Vikings will no doubt use the first round pick on Braylon Edwards or Mike Williams (if they're available)... but are still in dire need of someone who can play defense. I've heard that the Vikings may shop one of their million running backs to get actual defensive help (read: Not Napoleon Harris). That would be a good move, I feel... as they have a million running backs just to make every fantasy football player hate their team. Yeah, and speaking of hating their team... it's going to be harder to do next year. With Moss on their team, it was easy to hate the Vikings. Now I'm mostly indifferent. I still hate Culpepper's "dance"... getting his "roll on" or whatever he's doing. It looks like he's having a seizure, is what it looks like he's doing. And if he did, I probably wouldn't mind. Yeah... I think I'll still be able to hate their stupid fans and annoying "horn" sound at their home games... but hating them just got a little tougher.
Speaking of sports, here's some BBC tennis pictures that are anything but ordinary. I don't know if there's anything I can say besides go check it out.
Late last night, I watched the infamous "Having a Baby" scene again. Honestly, watching those old shows again, I can't believe the audience sat through 20 minute scenes and shows that were HOURS long. But that stupid scene is still hilarious, and it always makes me wonder why I haven't tried to go back to it since. I couldn't do it here because it's too long, and I don't know that there's a way to shorten the scene. We could make it an audience participation scene, where we ask the audience for an emotion. The problem being that you never know what the audience is going to bring out as an emotion... I just don't think it's worth it.
Because I couldn't sleep, I did what any sane person would do: Early morning grocery shopping! The Dominick's near me is open 24 Hours a day... and I couldn't think of anything more productive to do at 5:30 in the morning than get groceries. Apparently I was alone in that thinking... horrifically alone. When I entered the store, I paused at the door to make sure that it wasn't a joke that they were open 24 hours. Even after I had pushed my way through the revolving door, I stood still in the entrance... waiting for a sign that this wasn't a joke. The parking lot had only contained a handful of cars... and I had gone shopping late at night before with at least twice the cars in the lot, but never this early in the morning. Once I saw a man in an apron restocking some oranges, I knew it was safe. I pulled out a shopping cart minus the cupholder and proceeded into the store. SIDENOTE: Since when did a cupholder become a coveted feature to have on a shopping cart? I can't go shopping in a place that doesn't have a stupid cupholder attached to all of their carts. I was lucky that no one was around and that Dominicks has a few carts without it. I mean, do people really go shopping thinking "Oh, this place has cupholders on their shopping carts. They always have MY best interests in mind--Looking out for me."? I find the cupholders to be totally annoying, and have to constantly adjust where my cart is lest I hit someone, something, or someplace with the gi-normous protruding cupholder. Stupid cupholders piss me off. And it's not like shopping is such long and barren process that one would HAVE to intake fluids while doing it or risk dehydration! "Must drink water... can't make it to... next... aisle!" COME ON!
Where was I? Oh... at the entrance, making this story as long as possible. Now I remember. Well, the rest of the story goes pretty quickly. Five o'clock is apparently the time to restock every single aisle. And I know that they have to restock the store at some point... but there was an employee in every aisle with boxes and crates full of food, making traversing the aisles difficult (but not as difficult as if I would have had a cupholder cart!). I think one of the most interesting aspects of the whole situation was that none of the employees even regarded me... no one talked to me or even really looked at me. If you were working at a grocery store at 5:30 in the morning, wouldn't you be curious enough about people who are doing grocery shopping at that time to at least stare impolitely at them? I would. And much of my shopping was uneventful simply because I was ignored by everyone in every aisle. I know I'm all about being alone, and I may have mentioned it being cool to go shopping in an empty store at one point (I'm almost certain I did), but that was an EMPTY store. There's something unnerving and uncool about shopping in a store with people as if there wasn't anyone there. The one time someone talked to me was in the frozen food section. I was getting a couple frozen pizzas for Ken's visit (just in case) and I moved out of the way of one of the guys who was about to stock the shelves with more pizzas. He said "Thank you, sir" and it made me feel good. Good in that he thanked me, and also in that I wasn't invisible to someone who worked there. Finally, as I went to check out, I approached the one lit up register with hesitation. I guess I wasn't fully convinced that I had just done my shopping and could actually pay for it. But the, uh, probably Spanish, woman waved me towards her. For some reason I really wanted to make a connection... probably because I had just been ignored for 45 minutes (yes, it still takes me a long time to do the shopping... too many choices easily overwhelms me). So I said hello and the woman asked how I was, to which I responded "Well, I'm awake. Ha ha." A nice person would have at least smiled. I am a customer. Do you know what I got from the checkout woman? A grunt. I got... a grunt. I knew at that point that there was no point in me even trying to talk to her, so I didn't for the rest of the exchange. At this point in the transaction (during the day at least), I am usually asked if I have a Dominick's card. I usually say 'no, I don't'... and then the, normally nice person at the register gives me a courtesy card that has saved me as much as $15 in the past. This is why I like Dominicks so much... the courtesy card. But rude Spanish woman didn't even ask if I had a Dominicks card and so, for 'bare essentials' purchased at 6:15 AM, the total was $116. Yet another reason why I hate the city. Everything is so freakin' expensive here! It might actually be less expensive for me to make the drive to KZoo, with a cooler in my car, and do my shopping there... hell, I'm already driving an hour out to the suburbs to save at least (and this is on average) $.10 per gallon on gas [At one point it was $.20 cents less in the burbs than close to me in the city]. Ridiculous! Stupid city! There's NO WAY I should be paying as much as I am for the one-room apartment I'm in! Everything here is over-priced! And, if I was making heaving capfuls of money, it wouldn't be a problem... but I'm not. Stupid capitalism.

Breakin' Legs
On tap for today: I'm still looking at the Reader's website and seeing what looks like interesting job opportunities. I'm also trying to get this apartment cleaned... I was talking to Adam about it last night and I think it's more about wanting to have a place to take Kim (should things actually go that well for once), than wanting this place to be cleaned weeks in advance for Ken. Sorry Ken. I hope to make significant strides with the cleaning project, especially since I'm finally done pulling out old home movies and quietly weeping to them (which didn't happen... the weeping bit, not the watching movies bit. I did that).
I also came up with an idea for a show the other day. I've wanted, for a long time, to write a one-man show about sanity and the perception of who is sane, what is insane, who is dangerously insane, etc. This springs forth from the loins of my horrific firing experience. But I finally decided that a one-man show is too heavy, and is what N. Matthew would call "self-indulgent bullshit." BUT, if it wasn't a one-man show... but rather was a collection of characters of different time periods, with different relationships, from different points-of-view... now I'm onto something. An unmarried 30-something woman goes home to a family that pushes her to get married; a witch trial of someone who just flat-out knows science; a moral man in an immoral society; some everyday American customs personified by someone stuck on an alien planet... the possibilities seem far more limitless, and I feel like the topic is something worth while. I was thinking about this when I got an email from my friend Katy who said she's still "looking for something to do." We were both in Mockupations together and she and I talked about both wanting to do a show with some real and deep meaning to it. I think exploring sanity is something that hasn't been done on the small stage in a while, and certainly not in the way I would do it. (Although I'm also thinking about trying to write a novel about two characters who take a road-trip out west and find themselves... so we'll see how much of this I actually get done [my guess is none]).

Today in the Reader I found an Administrative Assistant position for a place called Digital Bootcamp. I just finished their application which had interesting questions such as asking how many levels of persuasion I would go through to persuade someone who I knew to be wrong about how cranberries are harvested. Yeah. I said I'd go through four levels: "I would use my logic to try to persuade them; then I would ask a passer-by; then I would tell them to look it up; then I would try to look it up myself. So, four levels before I drop it." As part two of that question, it asked me what I would do if I found an article two weeks later that proved I was right. Here's my response to that: "I would show my acquaintance the article, watch them read it (to make sure they know the truth), gloat for approximately 10 seconds, then drop it completely. Although, if the person was particularly mean or rude about being 'right' in the first place and it got personal, I'd probably gloat in excess of five or six minutes. I'm only human." What a cool place to have questions like that on the application! So I'm pretty pumped about that whole thing... and it would be working in a place that focuses on TEACHING! One of my two wants! This company teaches people how to use different software applications from the basics (Mac, Windows, email, etc), to the more complicated (like Photoshop, Dreamweaver, and some bunch of letters smashed together that doesn't mean anything to me, but I'm sure they mean something to someone). I'm kind of excited about that whole thing. I hope I can get an interview, at the very least. I know they would love me, if I got that far... it's just making myself look good enough to warrant an interview. *shrug* So we'll see about that. I told them I would be interested in instructing eventually if I learned enough about the applications they taught.
But, oddly enough, the application was so unusual, and took so much mental exertion, that I actually feel tired. I might take a nap. What a super-huge loser I am!

By the way, it's opening night in Albion for Cabaret. Miss Laura Jeannine is making the trip from Wisconsin (good for her). I hope she drives carefully. And I hope everyone in that show breaks legs! Lots and lots of legs and cliched jokes... I hope they're all broken tonight. Right.

Facing Demons... and Other Daily Metaphors
Awww... snicker doodles? Do I need to extend my comments section so that everyone can say what they want to say without having to post twice? Um... too bad. Not only would I not do that if I could... but also I can't... do... that. I don't know how. Maybe you should just post smaller things more frequently. Or maybe you've learned your long-winded writing style from watching me. One of those things is true.
Well... as you can tell, another late night for me. But this time it's because I was out, and not because I found myself wallowing, neck deep, in self pity. I went to Adam's tonight, and we just ended up hanging out with Chip and Owen... talking, drinking, ordering an obscene amount of Chinese food for 11 o'clock at night... and just generally livin' it up! I love talking to Chip and Owen... because I have no idea where the conversation is going to end up, but you can bet it's the most intellectual conversation about whatever mundane topic we land on in the history of conversations. It was good.
And it balanced the emotional day I had been having up until that point. I had single-handedly pulled two people down to my emotional state (Delaware!) earlier in the day... one actually about the other, ironically enough. But something happened today that should have happened a long time ago, and I'm not sure what I was waiting for. Oh wait... yes I do. Hmm... this is one of those things that I don't share with you loyal readers. Yes, as honest as this blog is... there is, in fact, juicy stuff that I don't let you know. And this, dear reader, is one of those times. But I can say that a reconnection was made today that's been a long time coming... and I think both of us will probably be better off for it. Heh... we'll see soon enough, won't we kids? G.Damnit I hate being cryptic! Maybe I'll just get some sleep... my sleep patterns have been butchered enough for one week.
Oh... by the way, I took Big J's advice and I sent out my resume via email today. There's one place in particular that I'm looking to hear back from. It's supposedly a full-time, data entry/computer skills required clerical support position at an engineering firm. They said casual dress... and I can certainly handle the computer part. We'll see. BTW II, J Dub, they're auditioning for "Forever Plaid" here in Chicago... but it's a weekend I was planning on going home. Is it worth me cutting short my vacation to audition? Holla back, playa!

The Ophelia Project
I just finally sat down and watched the Ophelia Project for the first time since... well... probably the summer of '03. I had been putting it off for so long, fearing... well, I guess fearing the feelings and emotions that would most probably burst like a dam while watching it. Better times... happier times... people lost to me. *shakes head* You know what I ended up thinking the whole time I watched it? I thought "I'm not very good." Ha! Yeah... all those feelings I was worried about prodding with a red hot poker, which is what I thought watching it again would do to me... and the best I can do is "I could have done that better." All the emotions I felt as Hamlet... everything I felt like I was going through on stage... and almost zero percent of it read to the audience, even in that small space. Even sitting here, being able to say most of my lines with myself, feeling what I felt when I did it on stage... but still not SEEING it. And I don't think I'm just being harsh on myself... I looked amateur, terrible. Maybe people like me won't ever be happy... maybe we're not meant to be happy, as it would be a flat out denial of who we really are: cynical perfectionists.
When I was younger, I used to hope and pray that I wouldn't end up unhappy like my father. I told myself that I was going to make sure that I LOVED my job, and I told myself that I owed that much to myself and my family (whoever that would be in the future). But now, as I get closer to all that... maybe I'm not going to be happy regardless of what I choose to do. Even if I start off loving it, it'll turn into something that I'll try to put off as long as I can... like my dad does. Staying up late, waking up early... because he'd rather have fun first and then get done what needs to be done at the last possible minute. I told myself, I SWORE to myself that I'd never turn out like that... now I can't think of a job out there that WON'T make me feel like that; do those things; be that man. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my dad... more than anything else... but I always noticed something inherently sad about him. Someone at the Second City said something like "Nobody does comedy because their life is perfect. We're all pretty fucked up." The comedy, the humor, hides so much pain... and I'll give my dad one thing: he gave me the ability to hide it better than most.
And I'll give myself one thing: I also watched "The Three Dollar Horror Film" again. It was from one of the plays Kyle and I did... and it was the first full scene that I wrote myself. First of all, the scene is seriously like 20 minutes. I don't know how the audience sat through that crap for that long. Secondly, even though I'm a complete bastard to myself, I can sit and say "Wow... you were really good in that. That's really funny... and you're in total command of that stage." What does that mean?
Honestly, I'm not just asking myself this time... what does that mean? Hey! Remember when Ken used to act?! That was before he "defended" our freedom from folk who weren't trying to take it from us. I love ya, Kenny... but it must feel like a really long time ago that you acted. It was literally a lifetime ago. And I've changed the subject because I was afraid of where the conversation was going. Give yourself a gold star if you didn't need me to tell you that.
I don't know what it means that I can applaud my comedy, but trash my tragedy. Perhaps I have higher dramatic standards... perhaps comedy is easier than drama... perhaps I secretly hate and love myself... perhaps that last one isn't really a secret... I don't know, you tell me. You're the smart one here. I'm just here for the food. Perhaps it's a good thing that I didn't curl into a fetal ball (ouch!) and cry while rocking back and forth when I watched the Ophelia Project. My actual body position is probably best described as sitting, arms crossed, shaking my head back and forth, occationally exclaiming "wow" or "come on" while watching myself. And I never gave Karen credit. She carried that show... and I was too busy wrapped up in loving and hating myself to even notice the command with which she took and held that stage. For not noticing something that amazing, I would have dumped me too. All I can say now is I'm sorry.

At one point, Kim and I somehow got on the topic of the Badlands. I have SO many good pictures of the Badlands... and I honestly think it's the most beautiful place I've ever been. I love it there. Here's a picture I took of Nick, who was taking video while I took this picture. Honestly, all you have to do is point the camera and shoot in the Badlands and you'll get a beautiful picture--Nature does all the work.
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See what I said about just pointing your camera and getting a beautiful picture? I used this as a desktop for a couple months... simply breath-taking. Email me if you want the full picture to use as a desktop.
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