Well, I have been a regular Writey McGee, haven't I.

Well. Basically I haven't wanted to. I've been busy, depressed, overextended, stressed, too angry, or too happy to post. There was just so much going on and almost none of it did I even want to really write about. This has been happening since around November, which began a heavy flow of topics that I didn't really want to reflect on, largely involving splintering interpersonal relationships, cast, fiscal responsibility, life goals, and work.

Today, however, has been a pretty okay day. It seems brighter; perhaps seasonal depression was my problem all along... it's finally getting warmer and sunnier and brighter, and I don't want to slit my wrists all that much. In fact, at all.

Not that I have really been that bad (nor would I be quite that cavalier if I was... maybe), but it's been a difficult time. Big changes in responsibility in work and environment, and there is never enough time in the day to do both everything I should be doing and want to also be doing (which sometimes is nothing... sometimes that really is the only thing I want to do). It's not very conducive to a blog, and I have always hated the idea of censoring myself. I'd rather just not write about it. As much shit as I have put out there about my friends, the cast, my family, or myself, there is just buckets worth of restraint and tact that I exercise. Plus, most of the time, I am so manic that it just won't matter later anyway.

So, I've been trying to write more to curb this. I am actively working on several projects and characters and that's exciting. Also exciting is that I actually have several notebook sheets filled with long term goals and explanations; it's not just lists of things--it's pretty cohesive. Of course I am not spending enough time on these projects, no matter how frequently I pick them up. I am not working that consistently, but I am trying. And one project, a musical that I am actually working on with Genevieve, already has most of the plot fleshed out and even lyrics and dialog written. It's exciting! I also know that even though this (and Lil Attila) have kept me from working on my character profile "Viktor," I will go back to him because he's reprising his performance at this year's SalonCon. Very exciting, that, too. Especially since Genevieve has invited me to much more involved now that we have something to look back on. And since Viktor and the musical are thematically similar if not related, they'll probably steal from each other.

Woo!

Work is on it's way to becoming better.

I've been also downloading A LOT of music.

Cast is eternally in flux, and I have 2 theme shows to prepare for (I really could've used last week's Hat Pick Night to bump me out the absolute awfulness of the week, but I got tech) in the next month: Zombie Night and Fairytale Night, the latter of which I'm pretty much calling all the shots on... That's exciting in and of itself; structuring a show and casting it as I wish. Plus while I am gunning for not a lead on Zombie Night (I just don't want the pressure or the expense especially since I'm a lead for Fairytale), I'm hoping to be a memorable ghoul all the same.

Lots of good things, really, coming up... concerts (the aforementioned Cyndi/Dresden/Cho affair and Rocky Horror event; plus HUMANWINE on the 17th, and who knows what else). Busy, busy, busy.

Here's to getting out of funks.

I have been suffering from a terrible bout of stress eating. I was attempting some work on the Lil Attila novel and haven't gotten past a third panel... I've been using the internet, text messaging Matt, eating, and television all as excuses to not get past anything. Legitimately, I'm at a block. Can't figure out how to get from where I am to where I need to be, convincingly. I have a lot of the last half figured out (although there's another bit that will probably give me similar problems later) but I can't fucking get there... Blargh.

I thought of like 3 other projects this past weekend. Most of those are online and complicated. And then there's my latest longterm venture: a musical. This is my trying once again to be a prodigy, 20 years too late. Genevieve and I are actually getting things written, though. It's a slow process, but these days, the weeks are flying by at a scary pace. Possibly because I haven't done my taxes yet, and I don't actually know how to do them.

Ok, I want to crawl into bed now and not wake up, so I think I'm making progress.

Plus South Park was on and about head lice. My head itches now.

I have wanted to make a Rocky Horror encyclopedia for about six years now.

Someone has beaten me to it.

I had the day off today. My body would never know it. It's very tired.

I cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen. It doesn't really look like it, though. Well, it looks better, but the bedroom and the living room are still war-torn nations. I wanted to do more, but I just kinda crashed.

I sat down in the bedroom, by the closet, listening to Madonna remixes on a laptop (preferable to my CD player because the laptop records my last.fm stats), and the never-ending DVD menu to Kissing Jessica Stein (the movie is what Matt fell asleep listening to; I couldn't turn off the TV without him sensing the noise dropping, and him waking up) from behind the closed door. I was going through papers. I found stuff I wrote in 1995. It's all pretty bad, but kinda sweet. I was actually doing the "blogging" thing on a Word Processor before I knew it would eventually be called that. I was writing about a superhero team that I "created," or rather constructed from snatches of elements from other, successful comic book characters.

They were called The Metros. I named them that after seeing the word "Metro" in The New York Times. I decided that the name inferred that they worked in the metropolitan area of New York City. Sure. The characters were Muscles, who was a variation of Superman; Twist, who I later renamed Spin, who could spin in circles very quickly, slicing things into smithereens; Bad Breath (oi), who was a 2'4 adult that had a huge head and tiny body, and could expel horrible smells from his mouth; Pole, a black boy with a square M.C. Hammer-type haircut, who could length his neck "79 million yards"; Pyramid... who could do something but I was never important enough to mention a lot; Scarlet, who could scream loudly and fly; and Thundra, a blonde version of X-Men's Storm, but with a better outfit. Eventually joining the ranks were Sonic, who could sonic blasts with her hands, and Jaguar, a savage jungle man with super-speed.

I had villains (Crab, the aquatic beast; Oyster, his mermaid assistant; Dr. Chillingstone, the mad scientist; Venus (who later turned good) and Sapphire, daughter/mother demigoddesses with diamonds in their foreheads that they used for telepathy; Alternate, who could control time; Chicken Legs, who... had chicken legs?; Stretch, who could bend his body into freakish shapes; Midnight, a shapeshifting sociopath; and Yuka, a shapely, blonde 40-something ninja-wannabe.

They all had extensive back histories. At one point, I went crazy and killed half of the heroes off in an epic showdown between the good guys and the bad guys. By epic, I mean six or seven pages of hand-drawn carnage. I renamed the trimmed team The Enforcers, and then again The Force, before eventually tiring of the troupe and shipping Muscles off in a spaceship aimed at the sun.

God, I worked on them every day, and almost no one read them. Yes, they were contrived and bland, and poorly constructed, and morally bankrupt... but it was something I really loved. I only have a few scattered sheets of actual "comic," and a few more actual text write-ups; behind-the-scenes, explanations and what to expect in the future...

I also found some college material; a notebook of nearly almost all notes between Danielle and myself during Western Civilization, and notes from the English class I really should have gotten an A in.

Yesterday, we finished packing the shit we're sending to Tampa. Computer monitors, office supplies, promo material... The plan is as little as possible will be going in with our clothes when we bring those with us to the airport.

That's at least over with.

...

I've been having these streaks of need for brilliance lately. I wrote a few days ago. It was the first set of lyrics that I've written in a very long time... some months. I've been so mentally distracted, I've avoided writing the Lil Attila comic, afraid that it'll suffer through my impatience. I've been trying to get some stuff down, but I've been so twisted these past few weeks-- nothing's been coming through.

I bought an mp3 player. I don't want to bring CD's with me to Tampa, so I bought this Samsung player that holds quite a bunch of tracks, and slid on most of the new Dresden Dolls album, and a few other songs that I've been wearing out, or know that I'll appreciate miles above the ground and staring out the window.

I don't know why I am so unhappy.

This is pretty self-indulgent, but this is Livejournal.

A bunch of my LJ friends have been posting of this meme of "post a fake memory of me!" Well, I have. And I liked what I got down, so I feel that I should at least keep track of them, because I thought they were nifty.

( Read more... )

I lead an interesting fake life.

Still awake. In a very frustrating fashion. It's one of those non-inspired nights where if I was, it'd be perfectly timing. Matt's busy with work; I don't have work tomorrow... I should be able to knock out a bunch of ideas at this point.

Focus... focus... focus!

Wrote today. Like at 8 AM, after I showered. I was listening to Version 2.0 by Garbage and got to "The Trick is To Keep Breathing." I has some ideas for The New Age (a project that I have been working on, off-and-off-and-sometimes-on). So I sat down and started writing. But after I got the initial few lines down, I realized that I really wanted to be typing. I got about two handwritten pages out, but then I started to lose motivation. My ideas were coming faster than my pen and I was getting bored and forgetting what I wanted to do.

Once we get an air conditioner upstairs, I am seriously going to need to get a computer as well. What that may mean is me moving Gaah upstairs and obviously keeping Iris downstairs ('cause it's technically not mine), but they share a monitor and Gaah is not exactly on it's best legs as it is. I have almost no room on it due to mp3's.

Also, I don't know where I would have space for it. It would have to be in the living room, that being the place where the air conditioner is tentatively planned on (hopefully the far wall, behind the couch, 'cause you can look right through that window from the street and see what we're watching on TV. Which may not generally matter, but the butt-fucking on Queer As Folk may be an issue at times. Plus, I had no idea how many people walk at night around here. And now that summer's coming, probably even more. But, I digress.

I'd say laptop, but I hate the keyboards on those things. I need it to be further from the screen. All the buttons are so low, and the keyboard I've got has these hinges that keep it slanted a bit, which is wonderful. Not so simple with a laptop; and I'd have to hook a mouse to it anyway, and I've been completely dependent on my Microsoft laser-mouse, which would require yet another cord to go on the almost non-existent laptop screen top.

But I can't keep coming down here whenever I want to go online, write something, or whatever... And sometimes, I will want to listen to mp3's. I have too many compact discs as it is-- I can't keep burning stuff that I will probably only listen to less than half of on a regular basis.

But, wrote today. Which is a huge step-up from the not-writing I've gotten far too uncomfortable doing. When I had dinner with Joyce (which was only frustrating for her asking questions, me getting partly through and her changing the topic, and me being completely unable to enter in a new topic without an immediate switch to one of her's), we talked about me writing. She started to talk about college, but I reminded her that I had politely asked her at Journey if the next time we talk about college, it's when I bring it up. She asked about my writing, and I basically only got as far as to say that I haven't been doing any. Not entirely true; I've written some songs for the Derek Kamen project and some fairly unamazing entries for his tour diary, too. I'm hoping New Age will help a bit. Lots to work with, and I think I am going to intentionally work around chronological order (which is what I have a lot of problems with-- working with things in order; I don't have Part A, B. C, D and E written in order ever, but I try to, get frustrated and then stop. Here I can write D or B first and it not matter. In fact, it can potentially benefit the story, to have it reveal in a sideways fashion.), and I am excited about it.

Red hasn't gotten much love because I haven't been in the space to work on it. Genevieve and I have to seriously sit down and talk about it, but when we see each other, it's usually once-a-week, and we want to talk like friends do as opposed to "work," even recreational types. Stuff has to stop happening in our personal lives so it doesn't suck up so much verbal time!

...Okay, I'm gonna go eat. Upstairs. In the sweltering. I wish it would just fucking rain already.

I miss Matt.

Went to Applebee's with Genevieve tonight... Quelle fluke.

We were working on Red and got some character names down, if not terribly a lot of development for them... Work in progress; must keep reminding myself of that... Doesn't have to be done within the week.

Still, I get distracted so easily, and I move onto new things; I get restless... bored. It's actually really frustrating. Probably not just for me, either.

I saw Ryan from Journey at Applebee's which was random, but nice. He's really nice, and I get the feeling I'd like to know him outside of the show, too. I don't know how to seem like a total dork at the last day of the show as if I have a yearbook for everyone to sign "Hey, let's keep in touch! Have a great summer!" Maybe I'll just have to keep active with ATC even if this show is Matt's last for a while.

Matt has been trying to support me with another of my whimiscal "Ooh, I could try this!" with ATC's acting classes. I have been semi-seriously considering it since Matt and I went to ATC to get the script for Little Murders (the ATC show that preceded Journey by a few weeks and Matt also did the lights for). Definately not a lighting person. And if Journey did anything, it proved I can learn some snatches of dialogue and lyrics simply from hearing it during performances of the last three weeks, so maybe my fear of learning and then forgetting lines is slimming.

We'll see. I've asked Joyce to allow the next time we have a conversation about college that I be the one to bring it up. I really don't need her asking me about it when I have entirely too much to deal with right now. Although if I lose my job, I certainly will have more free time... just not the money to pay for any of it.

Things keep piling up. I want to do them all. Where did my patience go? Why does everything seem now-or-death?

Longish weekend. Three performances of Journey was a little... much. Sunday's performance was better than Saturday's, and Friday's performance was better than Saturday's. We had modest crowds. Well. Modest for Saturday. Friday was depressing and Sunday was devastating.

Sunday's show was actually the best since opening night. Nothing has quite topped that one.

Rocky was bizarre. Halfway through it (roughly Lab Scene), I had a laughing fit that made me hit the floor. It was a mess of a performance, but the audience seemed to eat it all up, and Katie and I had a wonderful time. Audition was postponed.

Sunday was spent up with the show, packing up for the week, going to Pathmark for some much-needed food buying, watching Groundhog Day on TV with Matt, and sex! Yes, finally! Sex! Yaaay!

And that about caps that weekend. Today I've got some more work to do, some new live Dresden to listen to [an awesome, creepy "Missed Me" just ended], Costco-going, and then I'm seeing Genevieve, hopefully to work more on Red, this play project that we've been working on off-and-on-and-off for the better 3-fourths of two years.

So many projects in my head.

I keep writing shit down and I'm not sure where it's going. I have a short attention span. Every time I focus, I think of something else and go to that.

In a very real way, I feel very behind on my life's plans. In another very real way, I don't think I ever really planned out my life. But I'm sure that I'm behind.

The waitress Carrie made an ominous comment when Genevieve and I were eating there tonight, somewhere along the lines of "don't keep the hiatus from college up too long."

My interest in college keeps wavering. Sometimes I'm really into it, and other times it's the farthest from what I want to do... I miss the constant deadlines, in a way. I miss the assignments. I'd blow them off when they were assigned, but it's funny how I'm actually interested in writing some. Probably because they'll tell me what to do and what to write about. That's more than my own mind is doing.

And I always do this "ultra-deep" thinking that results in little to nothing at 3.50 AM. Figures.

Wednesday... Wow! What an exciting day this was... And because it's the internet and emotions are hard to sense by type-written words, I am being most sarcastic.
I have two exams. My last two. Christian Lifestyles and English... Agh, both were annoying. Christian Lifestyles less because it's not that complicated and I think I have a fairly good grip on exactly what will never apply to me. Well, I say that now; wait til I get the grades.
As for English... Long and long and long. I'm proud of my essay, though. I think I may be the first person ever to compare Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Traveled" to the contemplation of what sandwich bread to eat. It was good, though. I do unconventional essays as a rule (sometimes just to see if teachers read them; but I always back up what may be considered an outrageous argument) and this was no exception. I liked it; I'll never see it again, but I liked it.
Then I got home 'round noon and played around on the computer. I want to start my newsletter again and was trying some new formats, and they end up not consistent so I can't use it. This annoys me, but I'll just have deal and find a new method. Grr.
I fell asleep after I got pizza. In front of the tv, no less, and on the floor. I am so high class. The pizza was disgusting! My Holy Pizzeria of All Time must be under new management or something or hopefully it was an off-day... The cheese was like melted microfilm and the crust was thin and unimaginative. Unimaginative! In layman's terms, no bubbles! Bastards! Sorry, yeah, I have high pizza standards and this was awful!
Then I took a lil nap. Naturally, I'll be awake all night now.
I didn't mention it before simply out of forgetting or lack of updating, but I didn't get into Stockton or Hartford. I got "We are unable..." notices in the mail this pat week. Stockton's the only one I'm upset about. Montclair better pay off. While Wednesday and Willow may want me in Rutgers, it is last case scenario. We'll see if I even get into that.
Sorta lonely tonight.
Well, lonelier.
I need to write something. I haven't been doing that. Well, that's not true. I wrote a reeeeally bad song yesterday for Slow Morphia (the fake band I have with my friends; however I am seriously contemplating bringing up possibilities to change the name to Flow Morphia instead). Called "Razor in my pocket". Not nearly as bouncy as "If only" and not as brilliant as "It's like parsley in here". Not that any of this means anything to anyone who's not read those.
I'm babbling. I'll go now. :)