Wednesday, December 31, 2008

New Year, Old Memories...

Every year when the big ball drops, it's simply a big reminder of how I've dropped the ball. "Resolutions" that were never resolved; made with little or no plans for their execution, just prompted by a thought of "wouldn't it be nice...".

This year especially. This year when the ball drops, I'm going to remember what a child I am. I'll remember how I let my thoughts get the best of me, and deprive me of the best experiences with the most beautiful person I ever met. I'll remember her laugh, her eyes... I'll remember the adorable and distinct little sounds she made when she sighed, or cleared her throat. I'll remember all the Little Things. Strangely enough, the Big Things are byproducts of the Little Things. Just like that saying, "It's the thought that counts". Those big actions, or inactions of mine; the statements and omissions, were all because I thought I knew. I listened to those little thoughts that creep in and say 'don't worry about it...' or 'why tell her? she knows you care...'. And then those big thoughts, the kind that almost deafen you, that say 'You look like a fool!'. or 'You know, it's a matter of time before she gets sick of you.' Despite all of these thoughts, I told her I loved her, I asked her to marry me, I carried her over the threshold into our new home. We got comfortable, but those thoughts were still there. And the one that echos in my head to this day, 'one day she'll be gone, and you'll never see it coming.'

Gone she is. And I never saw it coming. It was New Year's Eve, she was going to kiss me at midnight. She had been staying with her widowed mother in Kansas City since Christmas, I had left her there the day after Christmas for a business meeting in Fort Worth. But we were both going to be back in San Diego for New Years. We were going to meet on the pier and take a ride on the ferry to watch the fireworks. I waited for her on the dock. She was going to catch a cab from the airport. I waited. The ferry left, I waited. The fireworks spewed from centennial park while I was calling her again. She didn't answer her phone.

Then I got the call--a total stranger. She wasn't going to be coming home with me tonight.

When I got to the hospital she was on a respirator, wires plugged into her left and right, she was going to the OR. She couldn't speak. Her body was covered with a thousand lacerations, her hair was matted against her forehead with blood and sweat. As I ran along beside her stretcher I took her hand and spoke her name over and over. She squeezed my hand and a tear from her eye, washing a trail through the smudges of blood on her face. She moved her lips imperceptibly, spoke inaudibly behind the fogged mask of the respirator. I tried to hear what she was saying, but it was drowned out by the rattle of the casters of the stretcher and by the EMT's shouts.

A week before, she had cried in the doorway to her mother's guest bedroom as I repacked my suitcase for my flight to Texas the next day. "Please, stay with me?" she said. I could have... I could have canceled my meeting and no one could have faulted me for it. But I wanted to be professional, so I chose to be irritated by her plea instead of touched. That night, as we lay in bed. She asked me again "can't you stay?" and I sighed "Please don't do this. I'm tired, and I'm not in the mood." With that I rolled over and stole some more of the covers. The next morning she took me to the airport in her mom's Camry. As we reached the airport I had nearly gotten up the nerve to apologize to her. She got out at the drop-off to see me off. I gave her a hug and a short kiss. Instead of apologizing, I smiled, kissed her again and told her "I'll see you at home, okay?"

She died twenty minutes after the surgery started. She had been pried out of the cab with the Jaws of Life. The cab driver hadn't survived the collision and it was no wonder why. An intoxicated truck driver had run a red light as the cab was taking a left turn. The cab looked like a soda can that had been run over by a bicycle. What should have been 5 feet of back seat became a space barely wide enough for my wife to occupy, she was essentially pinned between the doors. She died of internal bleeding and brain trauma. The doctor told me she had been paralyzed completely. He couldn't explain how she had squeezed my hand.

In the days that followed I realized how very little I knew what I was doing--how young and inexperienced I really was. I had never lost anyone, and now I was burying my bride. The Funeral Director asked if I would like to play her favorite song during the service. I had him play "Everything I Own"-- we had played it in honor of her late father at our wedding nearly a year before.

Even after another two months had passed, I couldn't sleep in our bed. I couldn't sleep. I tossed fitfully on the couch. I wore the same clothes over and over to avoid opening our closet.
When finally I had the wherewithal to box her things, my months of mourning all came rushing back to suffocate me. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't swallow. I couldn't see.

As I packed her T-shirts I could still see her perfect neck and arms filling the holes. As I took her coats off the hangers I remembered how she would have me pick between two--if I was lucky, and usually went with the other anyway. Her underwear drawer was the last straw. She had saved all the little notes I had ever written her. They were abridged versions of what I really wanted to say. As I thought of how many times I had opted to leave a note, I realized how much I wasn't around. I had usually left for work while she was still asleep, or in the shower. All those notes were missed opportunities to kiss her goodbye. The lacy underwear that had once been such a turn on, now seemed so silly. And again, I wished that I had been focused on her eyes, her smile. These things had no sentimental value, they were simply evidence of yet more opportunities missed to really show her my love. Reminders that I was distracted from being the best husband I could be, because I was too busy taking in my perfect wife.

On the closet shelf above her coats, I found the photos from our wedding, and in them a mixed CD from the wedding reception. Full circle, I now listened to the words of the song we danced to on our wedding night; the one I played for her before she was laid to rest.


Get a playlist! Standalone player Get Ringtones




"Everything I Own" by Bread

You sheltered me from harm.
Kept me warm, kept me warm
You gave my life to me
Set me free, set me free
The finest years I ever knew
Were all the years I had with you

I would give anything I own,
Give up me life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own,
Just to have you back again.

You taught me how to love,
What its of, what its of.
You never said too much,
But still you showed the way,
And I knew from watching you.
Nobody else could ever know
The part of me that cant let go.

I would give anything I own,
Give up me life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own
Just to have you back again.

Is there someone you know,
You're loving them so,
But taking them all for granted.
You may lose them one day,
Someone takes them away,
And they don't hear the words you long to say

I would give anything I own,
Give up me life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own
Just to have you back again.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Tuition



Please vote! help me win some tuition money. if you like it, please spread it around to your friends!

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Robe Day

for the past 4 weeks I haven't gotten dressed on Sunday. I have a blue terrycloth bathrobe that I wear all day. People seem to associate my bathrobe with morning attire, because even when I come into the room at 5 in the evening, they say "good morning!" maybe they just assume I've been in bed all day. Which isn't that far off from reality. Today I woke up at 11, stayed in bed in a comatose state till 2, came down stairs and ate lunch. returned to my bedroom to do some homework. I again slipped into coma, staring at the ceiling for an hour. I have been sitting with a take home final sitting in front of me and have yet to write a single answer.

what a day....

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Insomnia, my muse... please save me from my scattered thoughts!
I have a thousand images in my head, and a dozen words with which to work.
There is a woman, or some part of her. Her mouth, and cheek. A profile of a perfect pair of lips. They are boldly bordered with natural pigment. Pale pink, permanently puckered, and plump as the juiciest of peaches. They enshroud bones, beautiful white and singularly aligned, which peak out from top and bottom. perched between them, her tongue. On the tip of her tongue are the words that, unspoken, cause the dimple in her cheek. She isn't speaking, not even at a whisper. She seems caught in contemplation, though her eyes I cannot see. A single curl of her long hair falls across her jaw as she tilts her head. She sighs softly, and pinches her lips closed. What would she have said? She breathes in through her nose, a flawless nose. the recess between cheek and nostril deepens with her smile, and her lower lip protrudes. Why this imagery? I'm going on hours of a tease that she will speak or laugh. just kiss me already.

Now, A sinister figure, far removed from the last, standing in a dim light.

The figure is everything that the teasing smile is not. The realism of the girl is contrasted by the fantastic nature of this beast. He wears a tall velvet hat, the brim catching the beams of the streetlamp above him. He is dressed in fine clothes, dark red and black. A silver cane in his gloved right hand, but he holds it like a baton, he is frozen in pose--midway through removing his left glove-- but his face is animated. He is grinning, and it is spreading, though almost imperceptibly. The light washes him in a filthy yellow light, and his teeth are glinting in it. His collar is high, and he wears a pure white cravat. Just the slightest hint of a reflection peers out from under his hat, a spark of energy in his eyes. The sound of water trickling in the abyssal drains beneath his feet echo like a prayer in ancient catacombs. His heel is clicking on the cobble stone street and the sound reverberates like thunder through the empty alleys. He wears a ruby ring on his exposed left hand.

Goodnight.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

12th night.

I hate watching people watch Shakespeare... I don't esteem myself some sort of pro on the subject. .. but i feel like most of the wit is lost on a high percentage of the audience. I'm sitting through intermission right now, listening to the couple in front of me make sense of what they have seen so far. The girlfriend knows the story pretty well... the boyfriend is apparently totally lost "what was that letter that the guy found?" and "is she supposed to be a guy?" she did a good job of explaining who was attracted to who as who... but I think he's checked out.

Should I feel awkward that I, and a couple of others are the only ones laughing at the majority of the wit and puns in this play?

I wonder to what extent the exaggeration of stage acting has been affected by the illiteracy of audiences these days... it seems like lots of these lines require hand gestures in order to convey their meaning... otherwise people just sit, eyes glazed until the characters do something nodding to slapstick... fie on't.

Monday, November 24, 2008

being wrong....

So, I'm sitting it my Biology class. and in the row in front of me, two seats to the left, there is a kid who CAN'T be wrong. he's got a bitchy little sidekick, too.

Professor asked what criteria we use to define something as a species, a few suggestions were called out and he wrote them down indiscriminately, whether they were viable or not. and told us as he wrote them whether or not the suggestions were right.
right in the middle, the discussion was derailed by a kid who just refused to accept that his suggestion was wrong. I don't get it. I'm here to learn, not to refute what my teacher is telling me. When he says that scientists don't use habitat to define species, I'm going to take his word for it.

Maybe it's how he learns... it's kinda scientific--pursuing a hypothesis until it is proven or disproved. But for me that happened right when he said "you could potentially use that, but we don't because it is too complicated"

there was an awkward silence, cut only by the bumbling, fractured thoughts of this kid. He chimes in at least once per class, and usually his comment or question contributes something to the discussion. He's probably very interested in biology. Maybe I just can't relate on this topic. But he definitely feels a need to "save face" when he's wrong. And his girlfriend feels a need to defend him as well.
"you could take that information and make a best assumption but--"
"well that's all science is anyway!"

eh...okay.

Addendum:

Teacher: "population growth ratio is affected by A, B, C and D--"
Mr N'erwrong: "Doesn't B depend on... E?"
Teacher: how so?
Mr N'erwrong: sea turtles!
Teacher: that's one reproductive stategy... but we don't measure growth ratio by "E". (blah blah blah)... does that answer your question?
Mr N'erwrong:No....

Friday, November 21, 2008

Dream

Last night, I dreamed a crazy dream.

First of all, I was living with my brother and sister and some people I didn't know. We got a visit from President-Elect Obama. Did I happen to mention we were living in the White House? Yeah, for some reason I was living in the white house, and Barack and Co. were moving in. There was a REALLY ugly dog running around that Obama had evidently accidentally bought for his daughters. He bought a new dog that was much less yappy, and didn't shed hair all over.. the other dog kinda faded out from existence. Everything was going well, in fact I shot the breeze with Mr. Obama (who always descended stairs in bounds of about half a flight at a time). All of the sudden, the white house was stormed by FBI agents who started accusing us (me and my family) of murder. Evidently, for the past week, our grandmother had been missing, She went missing on the evening of Thanksgiving. We didn't know whodunit! The FBI agents left the house and stood on the lawn, and told us we had 2 hours to get all of our "dirt" out of the house. I happened to have a secret compartment in my closet where I kept *gasp* guns. My post WWII rifle and two pistols.
I thought for sure that I was going to be pegged with murder because I owned guns in a now anti-gun administration.

I brought out the guns and they just took them and asked if there was anything else. I went back in to do another sweep of the place. I decided to check my brother's room, too. While I was shuffling around in a pile of clothes I noticed an old, decrepit foot sticking out from under his bed!
HOLY CRAP! Austin killed grandma and hid her IN THE HOUSE?! I decided to make sure it was grandma, I pulled up the covers and looked under the bed... sure enough.
Just then an FBI agent came into the room and I pointed. He looked under the bed and said "HEY!" to the corpse, who awoke with a start and said "wha...?"

Evidently she had had a VERY healthy Thanksgiving dinner about a week before. She had also lost her ability to reason and thought she would take a nap (probably due to the Turkey) she climbed under a bed where she slept for a week straight. We decided this was probably because it was so dark under the bed that she never had any stimuli to awaken her. So... grandma wasn't murdered. My secret hiding spot never got found (something I had to weight my options against, when trying to decide if I should turn over my guns or not, the consequences would have been bad if they had found them hidden than if i turned them over of my own free will). And I got my guns back!

/dream

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Need money.

I may not be able to go to school next semester on account of I don't have the money. But I'm finding people who want to give it to me for doing things like submitting my "best facial feature". Mine is my beard. A vote for my beard is a vote for my education!

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Kinda over it...

I was going to blog about how I'm kinda over witty banter... but I'm kinda over it.
I love witty banter, but it has it's time and place. Relay/delay banter, as with wall posts or forum comments are NOT the place. Real time-in person, is really-the only good time for it.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

I'm not racist, but....

I find that when people begin with that line, the next thing they say is almost DEFINITELY going to be a racist comment.

I say "almost definitely" because this post is the exception. I just put that title to get your attention.

I think everyone is aware (maybe on a subconscious level) that that particular disclaimer is a false representation of the ensuing commentary. That's why I suspect, instead of shrugging off the comment as an untruth, people perk up to listen intently to whatever this "not racist" has to say. Because they know it's going to be racist. and their minds start prepping to attack or retort. Sorry to let you down.

Anyway.... how about them ethnic people?

Okay, here's what's on my mind.

Do people SERIOUSLY not wash their hands after using the bathroom?! are you kidding me? I thought people became conscious of this in jr. high...

about 4 years ago, I was at this kids house and he said something about it being stupid to wash hands after using the bathroom. "I don't wash my hands every time I touch my elbow..." was his arguement "how is it any different€?" I wasn't aware that his elbow was an outlet for human waste...

So today, I'm using the bathroom and there's a guy standing at the urinal, it's a small bathroom with two urinals and a stall, so for certain reasons I decided the stall(I was going to make a little joke there... but it wouldn't be appropriate and it would betray my secret identity).

When I exited the stall there wasn't a soul in sight. The kid hadn't flushed, and he hadn't washed his hands (I'm trusting my ears). what tha heck? are you serious? the kid's in college... wow.

So I'm racist against people who don't wash their hands after the bathroom.

got 8 minutes? you should listen to this conversation with a telemarketer from youtube.



and finally, I'm planning on entering the Insomnia Film Festival. You get 24 hours to write, shoot, edit and submit a 3-minute video with certain assigned elements. The kid heading it up approached me about it last night.

The start date is November 15 at 9AM, and thhe due date is November 16 at 9:00AM. I'm going to be the cinematographer.

anyway, this is where YOU (yes, you) come in. On November 21 Voting begins. I will be posting this video on every outlet I can, and definitely I'll have a link posted here. I need as many people as I can to watch and rate our video, if we get in the top 25 we get screened by several big wigs in the industry. If we take first, we each get a macbook and software package, and fame. If you have any suggestions on where to post my video or links to it, please let me know. And please help me spread the word and get as many votes as possible between November 21st and the 7th of December. I'm sure we'll make a full account of the project soon after it's completion. I will probably make a post announcing the prop requirements and locations we need/want as soon as we get the assignment and I would appreciate any help you can give. you have a couple of weeks to prepare yourself to help me out in a big way. please don't forget!

Evn

Thursday, October 23, 2008

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Alaska
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Been to Disneyland
7. Climbed a mountain
8. Held a praying mantis
10. Bungee jumped
11. Watched a lightning storm
12. Taught yourself an art from scratch
13. Adopted a child
14. Had food poisoning
15. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
16. Slept on an overnight train
15. Had a pillow fight
18. Hitch hiked
19. Built a snow fort
20. Run a Marathon
21. Watched a sunrise or a sunset
22. Hit a home run
23. Been on a cruise
24. Seen Niagara Falls in person
25. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
26. Seen an Amish community
27. Taught yourself a new language
28. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
29. Gone rock climbing
30. Seen Michelangelo’s David
31. Sung karaoke
32. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
33. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
34. Walked on a beach by moonlight
35. Been transported in an ambulance
36. Gone deep-sea fishing
37. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
38. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
39. Played in the mud
40. Gone to a drive in theater
41. Been in a movie
42. Visited the Great Wall of China
43. Started a business
44. Served at a soup kitchen
45. Sold Boy Scout popcorn
46. Gone whale watching
47. Gotten flowers for no reason
48. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
49. Gone sky diving
50. Bounced a check
51. Flown in a helicopter
52. Saved a favorite childhood toy
53. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
54. Eaten caviar
55. Pieced a quilt
56. Stood in Times Square
57. Been fired from a job
58. Broken a bone
59. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
60. Published a book
61. Had your picture in the newspaper
62. Read the entire Bible
63. Visited the White House
64. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (ahhh, those good ol' days of chicken farming...)
65. Had chicken pox
66. Saved someone's life
67. Sat on a jury
68. Met someone famous (does Ray Charles' tour bus driver count?)
69. Joined a book club
70. Lost a loved one
71. Had a baby
72. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
73. Been involved in a law suit

Show Biz.

So. Tonight was opening night. I have a lot of opinions, but right now the main thing want to say is that the show is incredible, both as a production and as an experience. I didn't even get stage fright! I get to wear all black and pretend that the audience doesn't exist. As far as my job is concerned, the stage is little more than memorizing (or using my cheat sheet discreetly, as is most often the case) cable numbers, scene numbers, and a bunch of routes and destinations for the "booms" that hold the lighting fixtures. I had hopes of earning a "Best Boy" title on the credits, or in the program. but I guess I'll have to settle for "Evan Embry", first name on the list of electricians.

Here's one cool thing though. I think I scored a 10' x 10' vinyl poster of Nosferatu!
I emailed the guy in charge of the posters about possibly getting a 3 x 5 (or something like that) poster. He said the departments had already claimed them all... but that no one wanted this 10 x 10 because it is just toooo big.

Sweet. I didn't ask for the vinyl because I figured it was too valuable or coveted for me to have a chance of getting it.

Anyway, aside from the fact that I am not really given due credit (actually I got my name corrected in the credits, just not the programs... the tangible... memorable programs.) I think it is well worth starving for lack of availability to work, the lack of time for homework hasn't hit yet. And rent isn't due for another week.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

I gotta be more personable...

All my life I have been able to count the number of people I call Friend on one hand.
This is not another sob story about how I was deprived of social interaction growing up (but it's true). It may in some remote way have affected my concept of what a friend is, but if it did, it is in an entirely counter-intuitive way.

It's always been something that floats in and out of my awareness-- the fact that I don't pledge much concern to much of anyone but myself, but only recently have I begun to see the impact it has had.

When I speak of an "impact", being who I am, I'm referring to the negative effect that this has had on ME. I don't know why I'm so selfish and I honestly don't know if I can change that about myself. I would like to think it is possible, but I think in the end, it is mainly selfishness that motivates people. I am a very empathetic person, and I often do selfless things out of concern for others. But I'm not sure where I draw the line of things I would give up for someone else. That's probably why I have yet to land in a plain of understanding anywhere near the realm of the concept of matrimony... I dunno if that even makes any sense... suffice it to say, I don't understand why anybody my age would ever consider getting married... unless for selfish reasons, like a tax break or a double portion of government funny money "stimulus package". I can at least say that I'm not THAT selfish. but then again... maybe the reason I would never get married strictly for monetary gain (mutually agreed upon on by both parties) is because I know it wouldn't last, and then if I found someone with whom I could see myself, I wouldn't exactly have a clean record. so there's a level of selfishness in every choice I make.

So, with that little exploration of my psyche, I think I'm ready to address the topic of this post. wait... maybe not.

Like I said before, I don't consider people friends unless they are enough like me take on some sort of proxy role to facilitate my unconscionable preoccupation with self-indulgence. Self-indulgence by proxy. It's what I do. I have had "best friends" who are now pretty much just memories to me. I find it really easy to move on. I don't know if it's because after a while I forget about them-- who they were, how to interact with them. I feel like I wouldn't know what to say to them if we did talk again. I'm probably fooling myself, I'm just saying, I do a good job of that. Friends for me are there always, and even then I may not consider you a friend. some people I can know for years and never graduate them from "Acquaintance" (there's probably a better word, but I don't know it.

I'm really stingy with who I call friend. and I don't know why. I'll admit I am really judgmental, and snooty when it comes to who I deem smart, witty, funny, cool, interesting, etc. and someone has to possess an exceptional amount of one, or several of these things for me to befriend them. otherwise they are simply someone to talk to when there's no one else to talk to.

So why? why do I think I'm so much better than anyone else? I don't even live up to my own high standards, why do I demand that of others? And when they fall short of my standard, why do I feel like I'm being gracious to accept them anyway "despite their flaws".

I am only really severing myself from valuable insights and experiences. again, I remind you, I am only really looking at what's in it for me. Being accepting of others, being free with my praise and time and laughter and love would only widen my world of understanding. There are so many "Acquaintances" who might have been partners-in-crime, valuable connections, owners of insight and knowledge, and I have put them out of my circle. Just because I have always had a really small circle with not a lot of room. I think I need to expand my circle.

If I do this thing, I think I will get more friends, friends with connections and resources. or people with ideas I can borrow, off of whom I can bounce my own ideas...

I just need to work on letting down that imaginary fence that I raise between myself and people I don't know intimately.

Friday, October 17, 2008

Photographic Memory

I have this uncanny ability to recall entire conversations of no consequence, sometimes conversations in which I wasn't even involved. With a decent trigger/queue/catalyst/impetus I can recall the situation/context/person/place/thing surrounding it. I have a nearly 100% recollection ability. For some reason this doesn't work with many of my childhood memories. When my brother talks about things we did, I usually only remember bits and pieces of the event. But if it is something that I did on my own, I can remember everything down to what I was thinking before/as/after the thing happened. I would go so far as to say I have a videographic memory.

Once (while I was working in Alaska) my roommate asked me "who do we know who has a mole on his face?" after two minutes of filing through my mental snapshots of everyone in the "mutual friends" folder for me and my roommate I returned with the answer. I knew not only who it was, but which side of the face and exact location of the mole.

that surprised even me. I don't think I have an exceptional memory-- no wait-- I do. I don't think it is so much that my memory is great, so much as that I have learned exactly how it works and use that to my advantage.

But, the other day I realized that I was using my memory to my detriment.

I never realized how often I think of things in the abstract. I was doing homework and I recalled having written something down that related to the problem at hand, I spent 2 minutes recalling what it was I had written down and then realized later that I had the exact copy of my notes not 5 feet away from where I was studying. If I had used my memory to find the note itself, I would have saved myself a lot of effort by simply reaching over and grabbing the original note, instead of "replaying" the videographic memory of writing it down.

This happens a lot. I will be remembering something or thinking of something only to realize that I am in fact in possession of that item. Sometimes a shot in the dark seems more efficient than recollection. Since I rely so much on my memory, I sometimes slow myself down. If someone asks what I did with their pen I cue up the memory of having the pen, and fast-forward through my entire reaction with the pen and watch where I put the pen when I was done with it. sometimes this is great, because I put the pen in my jacket which is now in my backpack in my locker... somewhere I would have spent a lot of time to look for. other times I realize that it is in my pocket. Most people will automatically sift through their pockets for lost items like keys and pens... for me, that is the last place I check, and I'm a lot slower at those sort of answers than most people.

Sometimes I will be helping someone look for something and I will say "Ah! there it is!" to which my fellow lookers will reply "where?" as they watch me leave the room/building and come back with the item in my possession. "it was in the car/upstairs/entry...".

I think the fact that my head operates in this way is part of the reason I love film. It is counter intuitive to the way my memory/mind works. but it is for this reason that I find myself willing to suspend my disbelief. There are issues with improbabilities, or other fact-based reasons I will not allow a movie or show to do certain things... like tell me that the only way to kill a certain demon (sure, there's a demon I'm fine with the fact that there is a demon...) is with "a blade made of pure brass..." (WTF? "pure" brass? Brass is an alloy, imbecile) simply because it explains away something, or allows for the story to move forward(like in Supernatural, where the brothers kill a demon clown with a pipe from the organ in a circus fun house. How convenient that you had some "pure brass" handy...).

I am willing to let someone else recount the particulars of the story and tell it to me. I am fully willing to overlook the setup, and in the end I can appreciate the payoff. Even if there were clues all along. I fall for it a LOT, especially for being someone who knows how movies set things up, where and when it is most often done, and the ways that most plots play out. this ranges from thriller whodunits to romantic comedies, and everything in between.

I think, that since my mind opperates like a movie (linear documentation of events or linear playback recollection of events, even when experienced out of order (like Memento, or Lord of the Rings or Who is Cletus Tout?) I have a mind that works well on the MAKING of movies. as well as WATCHING movies. I can do both effectively. Guessing the end of a movie? not exactly my forte, I don't even think to consider it. writing a story and keeping track of when to tell what part? I can do that.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

85 on 31....I'm flying.

I had the strangest dream last night.

It all started with almost everyone I have ever met in my life(okay not everyone, but some random people from my past), living with me in a studio apartment on the 4th floor of a run down building, I remember it was the 4th floor , but the height felt more like the 5th or 6th floor. The twisted wrought metal stairs were wobbly and seemed as if they were going to fall away from the building. I didn't spend much time in the apartment, but when I was in there, I kicked it in the hallway with a bunch of other people, some who are probably not even people I know, they were just people. There was a little crawlspace door in the hall that actually opened to the outside, so I would exit there and hang out on the balcony next to the chimney with chums. someone came home complaining about some bad meat they had at Bajio, Someone mentioned in passing that there was a conspiracy there to try to re-flavor rotten meat and keep it on the shelf.

I went shopping with a few friends but we ended up going to the theater instead, On the way home one of the girls I was with, stumbled fell on top of me and I couldn't get up. She thought it was funny and wouldn't get off. It wasn't necessarily romantic, but it wasn't exactly rape. anyway, I made some joke about the movie/play we had just seen and she kissed me. just real quick, but on the lips. I didn't know what to say or do. but I didn't really have to do or say anything because she immediately got all regretful, but not for making me feel awkward... because, she admitted, she was married.

"what?!"

there were a few witnesses but they turned toward home and put some distance between us and them after hearing the twist. We walked back to the house trying to decide what to do aboutt this situation but before you know it, we were home. I went to my spot in the hall and she stayed in the living room. but since we weren't done talking about it, she IM'd me.... kinda weird, but I must admit I've done it before (IM someone in the same general area as me, not kiss a married woman). She said "I don't think we should tell him. how about you?" I replied "well tell him, but make sure he understands that it was mindless and..." but she was already standing over me and she said "Let's go find him."

So we exited through the crawlspace door and descended the rusty, wobbly stairs. We seemed to be in chinatown or something but we eventually found the place where he worked. Bajio. His coworkers didn't want to look for him so we snuck in the back. it was a really creepy place, with lots of walk in freezers and filthy cleaning closets and the hallways were lit with flourescent lights on their last leg. it stunk like electrical fire (the ballast of the lighting?) and rotten meat (duh). We saw a bunch of people that looked like him, but no luck. we ran into a man who looked like Col. Mustard, from the board game Clue. He started yelling franticly that we weren't allowed in the back. we started looking through all the cabinets and saw some medical stuff that looked like it was being very poorly stored. I poked my head in a cleaning closet and opened a metal locker that was full of test tubes that were smeared with BBQ sauce, or blood. and there were green rubber gloves all over the place.

Just as we were realizing that we had found the hidden documents and research of the dreaded conspiracy that was going on at Bajio, we saw a figure emerge from an operating room wearing full haz-mat (hazardous material) gear. It turned out to be the girl's husband. He was delighted to see us, but our collective affect was pretty sullen. She said "I need to talk to you." I said "I'll just wait in here..." and entered a storage closet full of hotdog and hamburger buns (at bajio?). eventually I heard him, "WHAT?" and her, "Well what was I supposed to do?!" and my internal voice (huh?). He threw open the door and came toward me with his righht arm ready to punch my lights out. I said "hey man, I don't blame you. go ahead and hit me" He started to swing and I flinched and he stopped for a second. Then he drew back again and I flinched "go ahead and hit me, but just do it already" I said. He started crying and hugged me.

I told him I never intended for anything like that to happen. He told me that we were going to have to change our hanging out. I figured this meant we couldn't hang out anymore (me and his wife). But he said that I could only see her once a week till after Christmas, and I had one freebie, which meant that for one time, I could see here twice in one week.

As I left the restaurant (alone) I saw two Mexicans doing parkour over a chain link fence. I asked them if I could join them and they took off as fast as they could. I followed them, and we went down Paper St. (from Fight Club) and several parking garages, over several fences. we gained a few bodies in the "chase" that seemed like indians. We arrived at my place and sat down on the roof to watch the sunrise.

Then I woke up.

feel free to diagnose me, interpret my dreams, or otherwise comment on the questionable nature of my subconscious.
Please don't ask me for names of those involved in this story. I'll never say.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

The Decline.

I'm really disappointed in humanity.

Mostly just humanity's taste in entertainment. I'm not really talking about celebrity gossip, although I do despise it. I'm talking about the laughable, (and by that I mean "pitiable/ dismal/depressing") prime-time, lauded and loved, worthless... garbage.

A few examples.

I'm sick of hearing about Stephanie Meyer, the "Mormon equivalent of J.K. Rowling".
Although I haven't read any of the Twilight books (boycott) I have read a little J.K. Rowling (only enough to be able to say I read... I think it was 4 chapters of the first book). I don't think Harry Potter is any real... gem. I think these sort of books should be shrunk to 1/16 their original size and sold in those little 25 cent vending machines in store entrances, along with all the fake tattoos, toxic Superbounce balls, and of course plastic jewelry and fake gems. I expect for at least one or two people to accuse me of being a numskull, who thinks he knows things about things he knows nothing about. they'll say I can't judge a book by it's cover, and that I am jumping on a bandwagon of fellow nay-sayers of the Twilight series.... I say to them that I have not judged the book by it's cover, I have judged it by it's place in our culture. it's readership (not to be harsh) is an indication of its quality. I am surprised at the phenomenon of the "Times bestseller" lists... why do so many people pay money for such mindless, wastes of words? I think that PETT (People for the Equal Treatment of Trees) should be in arms about the wanton destruction of vast forests, all being rendered flat for such a senseless purpose(may I emphasize SENSELESS).

Continuing on that note, I have a thing or two to say about another book. Stephen Colbert's "I am America (and so can you!)". I found the opportunity and the willingness to indulge the author of the book (admittedly NOT Colbert, although he does claim to have dictated the writing of it... which essentially means that he wrote --probably in all caps letters, a couple of them perhaps backward, or at least as sloppy and obtuse as his sense of humor-- a little memo authorizing the authorship of a book to be printed and produced with his name all over and throughout the book. I would call it shameless self-promotion, if only it were he who had written it, instead of some open mouth breather, dreaming-of-stardom, intern/equivalent task force assembled to throw together some hokey, "what-WILL-he say-next?" lines that wouldn't even make it into a Bob Saget monologue. The content was offensive. No, not in any explict, or bigoted kind of way, it was offensive that it was printed with the understanding that people like you and me would appreciate it. Why would would we appreciate this marked depreciation in the quality of entertainment? I was offended that I had been suckered in to giving it a chance, despite my skepticism. I was offended that, in the first chapter the author attempts to absolve his heinous composition by reiterating the fact that it is nothing more than a commercial attempt to garner more attention (and money, obviously) to the TV segment hosted by Stephen Colbert. It does't even apologize for being a pointless, witless bunch of blather amassed in just a little longer than it took to put it through a spellchecker. Any given page in the book looks like it was typed by a 9th grader; double-spaced(or at least each sentence is given it's own paragraph), and with this deluded idea that it's somehow going to fool the reader that any sort of intellegence was devoted to it. The mind of a 9th grader is an amazing thing, as Mr. Colbert (or proxy) exemplifies here, he has demonstrated how, when one considers himself to be funny, he makes all of his jokes without sort of forthought or censorship, in both 15-year old's and Stephen Colbert's case, they just come off as obnoxious. Stephen, thanks for making my 3 minutes on the toilet completely depressing.

Sorry, I wish I were done. But I have one more dissapointment to vent about here.

Pushing Daisies. I heard so much good stuff about this TV show. I'm not really partial to TV so I never sought it out. But it just so happened that one of my best friends got the first disk of the fist season in the mail today from netflix. I was over at his place tonight for dinner and they invited me to watch it with them. I am bothered by the pretentious narration (...exactly 9 years, 7 months, 25 days and 2 hours old....). I'm going to keep this short and say simply this. The narrator fails, despite a tremendous effort, to attain the tone and grace found in the narrator of Babe. The lead role is a close match to John Cusack, but only close enough to be irritating. though you have to applaud the efforts of the casting director on that one. The main girl "chuck" is clearly based on Audrey Hepburn, but only realized with enough resemblence to be irksome at least once per episode. The waitress character, whose love for the Piemaker is unrequited, is actually pretty hot for being 40 years old, but her existence is lacking a certain....validation. I know I only saw the first 3 episodes, and surely something more happens later, but its not so keenly intriguing that I will continue to watch.

Friday, September 19, 2008

doot de do.....




Just sittin' here, waiting for this darned play to start. I have an assignment for my "Stagecraft for Stage and Screen" class (building sets, lighting, etc.) to attend the play "march of the Salt Soldiers" and write at least a one-page Production review. He is not concerned at all with my opinion of the dialogue, actors, or anything to do with the direction of the play, just observing lighting, and set design.

I bought two tickets yesterday. My classmates said it was a good show for a date, supposedly it is a "Hysterical/historical account of..." I figured I may as well ask someone along. The girl I had been hoping to take was already booked. So I ended up having an extra ticket. It all turned out alright though. Today, I asked my buddy "Ivan" if he had bought his ticket yet, turns out he had no idea where to get them, and no time to get them but he needed two(2) tickets, because he intended to bring his wife. "Cool. Gimmi $12 bucks, I got your tickets right here." I sold him my pair of tickets and bought a single ticket for myself. perfect.

My brother has been on the verge of a meltdown over some issues he's been having with getting his business started. Today he called and asked if I would like to go with him to pick up his first shipment of goods at Customs. He also told me that he got a call from a major distributor who is looking for a supplier. Things seem to be going well for him. And he said, if he gets that big account, he is going to be Uncle Moneybags and buy me a Sailboat. He said he hopes to have "made it" within a year. *fingers crossed*.

For now, I'm just waiting for this play to start, but the computer lab closes in 12 minutes so I need to find a way to kill an hour and a half... I wish there were a Plasma center around here so I can get a head start on October's rent. : (

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Embracing Change

Probably two months ago, I noticed a little tab in the corner of my Facebook page, it said something to the effect of "try out the New Facebook" So I did. I decided "hey, I'll just switch over to the new format now, so I can get used to it before it becomes the new and only format."

I switched, took about a little extra effort to familiarize myself with the changes, there were a couple of things that seemed pretty inconvenient, but it was mainly because I, like most people, am a creature of habit.

Change sucks when it throws off ones groove. Today I barely missed the 830SB bus as I was leaving UVU. Not that I had to be on that bus, I could wait for the next one... and I did. I turned up my Zune and jammed to Kings of Leon. soon enough the 811SB showed up. I decided that it goes close enough to my place, I might as well ride. I boarded and took a seat at the back of the bus. When we got to the Timp exchange I decided to get off and wait for the next 830 (I'm really lazy.) I stepped off and sat on one of the high planter boxes to wait for the 830. I turned around a minute later and realized there was one parked. I went over got on, sat down and waited. As we pulled out of the depot, the driver stayed in the right lane... uh oh... I just boarded a NB bus. I hadn't even thought about it, I had never really had to, I usually just take one bus no transfers in the middle. It had never crossed my mind that I couldn't just hop on any ol' 830 bus, because I had always been on the right side of the street when it came around. I hadn't ever payed attention at the Timp. transfer that the left side of the platform is for Northbound and the left, for Southbound. I guess I learn something new everyday. This is a really bad example of the topic, because it is more about how I changed, and the system didn't... but I'm talking about being aware.

To Jenny, Jake, John, Wyatt, Scott, Evan B. and the countless others who have posted their status with a message "hating" the new facebook, I can understand why you would choose to stick to the old facebook. It's familiar, maybe it is even more practical for you, you probably don't have time to go relearning everything. But surely you saw this coming....right? I don't understand the extent of your dissatisfaction with the new format warranting "hate". I do understand not wanting something forced on you, no one wants to have their options limited, it tends to "invite resistance". But I have some advice for you. Next time someone gives you a heads up about a new MO, get a jump start on it. Don't wait for it to be forced on you, choose it. It makes you feel so much better about the situation to be able to exercise your freedom... Not to mention you are ahead of the game when the inevitable change is implemented permanently.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Dear Guam....

How are you? I am fine. I was wondering if it would be okay if I come live with you. I hate it here, and I want to get to know you better. I was thinking I could come have an adventure. I know there are a lot of things to do in your area. I would especially like to kayak around the island, SCUBA dive in the coral reef, pay your neighbors a visit on my sailboat (which I don't have yet. Oh, and also, I'm about $1,300 away from being SCUBA certified and equipped).

I know it will be hard work to come stay. There are a lot of things that I will have to do without, like some of my favorite foods, favorite places, my 5 guitars. other things that I will have to adjust to will be the constrictive environment (a "road trip" becomes a drive around the island), higher cost of living, unreliable utilities (I know your electrical grid doesn't stand up to the weather there, as well as your water system), I may have to deal with a lot of dysfunctional public services (I hear your DMV is one for the record books!) But I really think that I will be content overall. I want to spend a lot of time in your big back yard, swimming in freshwater pools or perhaps a cave or two, hiking to the small villages scattered around. I want to make a documentary on your pest problem, especially the snakes that ate your birds and the frogs that threaten to chase away your visitors from Japan with their loud croaking.

Here's what I was thinking I would do. Like I said, I want to make a documentary, so I was thinking I would go to your college and network with some Biology students to go out and film with me. Or I could possibly work for the Division of Aquatic & Wildlife Resources and help in their efforts to reintroduce the the indiginous birds back into the ecosystem, and make my documentary (perhaps on their dollar) while I work there, and with the endorsement of that department. If nothing else, I think I could work for your local newspaper as a Videojournalist. I was on their website the other day and it seemed like it could use some better quality video coverage.

As for living arrangements, I have a dream of buying a 36-footer sailboat. I know the Agat marina is in need of maintainence, but it looks like it has what I need... somewhere to moor a livaboard boat and a place to shower. I know gas is, on average about $.50 more where you are than on the "mainland", so having a sailboat would be a good investment, and as reliable as the weather ;) Sure, things might get cramped living on a boat, I'm sure I have the stomach for the rock and lull of the tide as I sleep. But I can think of no paradise like living on a boat for $50 a month. I'm not sure how I'm going to get the money for it, but I will probably rig my foredeck with solar panals, to charge batteries for GPS navigation, laptop use and such.

Now don't worry, it's not like I'm coming out there next week. I have a lot of things to do before I am able to cut ties here in Utah. While it is really tempting for me to just pack up and go, I want to be rational...sensible. Originally, I was thinking about coming out in January. January 17th was the date. But I started school and started loving school. And I really feel that I should be working toward a degree in film. If I just leave in the middle of things I may never get around to finishing them. Therefore, I have decided that I will wait to come see you until I have finished my Associates here at UVU. That means that I wont be out there for over a year. I guess January 17th still sounds good. Just make that in 2010 instead of 2009.

You must be wondering how I intend to finance my trip out there... I honestly am not certain of that. I have a summer in which I can sell my soul... perhaps as a wildland firefighter. they make some good money. I was going to do that this year but I was late, applications were due before I even found out about classes for certification. Anyway, they make about $70K. that would buy me a boat, a marine camera casing, a full scuba outfit, and enough beef jerky and dried apricots to get me there. I could use the left overs as backup money in case everything goes to hell while I'm staying.

Keep in mind, this is all subject to change. I have a lot of aspirations, and if I find that I am moving toward the big goals of mine, I may have to put this visit/stay on hold. I am planning to look into an internship through the Motion Picture Production department here at UVU next semester, and who knows... that could be my big break.

Just to give you an idea of all the thought that I've put into this, here's a to do list I am working on.

  1. 4runner: Convert to CNG, fix exhaust leak, replace left front CV shaft. Sell.
  2. Motorcycle: finish electrical repairs, Finish bodywork, paint job, correct battery. Sell.
  3. SCUBA Certification ($1300 for all my own personal equipment and open-water diver certification).
  4. Finish another year of school (be sure to take all required courses for Associates Deg.)
  5. Get Rich (this may require taking extra credits(Wildland firefighting) in the Spring semester).
  6. Buy a sailboat, get it seaworthy and equipped.
  7. Get a crew willing/competent to sail to Guam (and teach me the ins and outs of sea sailing en route).
  8. Whittle down my belongings to an amount that I can either leave with friends, or fit on my boat.

There are probably at least another dozen or so things to be added to that list, but I guess those are the big ones. I'll keep you posted on new information.

Guam, I can't wait to come!

See you soon,
Evan.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Ha.

Today in my DGM1110 class my teacher had lipstick on her tooth. I didn't want to embarrass her, but at the same time I didn't want her to discover when she got home that she had been walking around with a pink tooth for 9 hours. She started roll call, and I thought up a quick game plan. obviously calling out from where I sat that she had lipstick on her tooth from across the room was no way to go about things. It would be awkward for me to walk up to the front of the classroom to tell her.... obviously I couldn't do discreet.

"Aha!" I thought... "I'll do something distracting while I tell her." So I decided to roll my chair over to her desk... good 15 feet or so. She said "did I not call your name [for roll]?" I said, in a semi-low tone "you have a little bit of lipstick on your tooth." She said "ah. Thank you." and then to the rest of the class "And you guys were going to let me go like that all day!"

Mission: Accomplished.

I'm considering living on campus. I could save enough in 3 months to pay the rest of my tuition in rent alone. I could just shower in the PE building every day, eat in the food court or out of vending machines, go to my classes, use the computer lab, sleep on the roof by a heating vent, or in a lab somewhere... or just park my car there and sleep in the back.

I have two lockers at the school. One in the PE/locker room. and one in the trades building. The one in the trades building is spacious enough to house Miss Piggy and Kermit comfortably--with a Jacuzzi. I could keep probably 10 changes of clothes in there if I had that many clothes in the first place. The one in the PE building is big enough for my racquetball racket, a pair of flip-flops to wear in the shower and I think I could fit a dozen or so Q-tips in with my books and laptop.

Tonight when I went shopping I ended up(inadvertently) following this girl around the store, to the ice cream, to the meats, to the milk... we parted ways for a brief second but ended up in the same checkout line (she must have taken it literally because she was checkin' me out ;) not really. anyway... there was a guy between me and her in line. she got her groceries and left. when the man in front of me was done the bagger tried to hand him a bag and he said "that's not mine... I think it was that girl in front of me...." the bagger took off on a good-intentioned jog, but as I was swiping my debit card she returned, still bearing the ice cream bars.

'Oh that's too bad' I thought 'she didn't catch her'. but as I was leaving the store, I notice that same girl was just pulling out of her parking space. I thought about flagging her down and telling her about the lost ice cream bars. But I had this sneaky suuspicion that she was a little creeped out by me, having kinda (inadvertently) followed her around the store. but then as soon as she was gone I thought "silly Evan, she wouldn't have minded you telling her about a 6 dollar box of icecream bars she had paid for but not recieved...". meh... that's life. I already did my one good turn, with my Digital Media insturctor.

I'd like to say thanks to my brother and sister in law for being so hospitable, the Navajo Tacos were delicious.

end.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Smile and nod.

Why must people make it a point to rain on my parade? Sometimes I wish people would just smile and nod.

I've been uber stressed about what to do about moving to Guam. Should I go? Should I go now? Should I go to school instead? Should I be considering buying a house? should I wait until things stabilize in Guam (whereas the states are experiencing a buyer's market in housing, looming changes in Guam have real estate on the upswing/seller's market)? should I wait until things stabilize here (till I have all my ducks in a row)?

I have been feeling obligated to stay for various reasons. And I don't like to feel obligated to anything. Here are some of the reasons.

1. Some people feel as though I'm running away from my life....
2. My dad has just made an investment in my education. doesn't make sense for me to quit halfway through.
3. There are people that I want to keep around, and going to Guam is not much of an option for them.

Instead of not worrying about the real issues, I decided to explore my options further. I have been toying with the idea of living on a boat in Guam. So I decided to check into the practicality of buying a good-sized sailboat to live on.

I started shopping around on craigslist in san fransisco/bay area. There are some pretty nice boats to be had for a pretty decent price. I considered a house boat, but they actually pretty expensive, plus they are motorized which requires fuel... bad option. They are generally pontoons, and those rock around on the water because they don't have any ballast to speak of.
I would love to have a sailboat, because I would most likely make frequent trips to the many Marinana Islands. I plan to do some documentary work that could lead me to some work on Saipan.

I know I am not a sailor. I have a lot to learn about navigation and stuff. but it's something I intend to learn, especially if I'm going to live on an island. So, maybe it's a few years down the road for me to own and opperate my own sailboat. But it's not out of the question. I have even givven thought to the possibility of sailing a boat TO Guam. Not this time around, obviously (although, maybe if I had a highly-competent crew make the voyage with me, it would serve as an intensive training on all the ins and outs of sailing and navigation).

I happened upon a craigslist posting that advertized a distribution company looking for nature documentaries. I happen to be planning to make at least one such documentary of Wildlife on Guam, specifically on the bioinvasive species of Guam.

My roommates sometimes ask what I'm up to when I am online in the livingroom. I really should stick to short answers like "readin'..." or "bloggin'..." but sometimes I am so excited about an idea or a topic that I can't contain it. I devulge the specifics of my thoughts to them, knowing that it will be met with stiff skepticism and cynical comments.

Last night, after being patraonized for considering living on a sailboat by one or two of my roomies, I happened onto the aformentioned Craigslist posting. My roommate "Jim" asked what I was up to , naturally I was more than ready to tell him all about my new find. I read aloud the proposed arrangement, which essentially solicits finished productions from independant submitters, to be distributed en masse around the world.

"and it bakes a cake" he said, when I was done.
"what?"
"oh, it just sounds like these guys are making a lot of promises..."

I dunno where he gets that. no where in it does it say that they are obligated to do anything for me, in fact, it specifies that any profits made will be based on royalties from sales, which is a disclaimer, not a promise. it doesn't proclaim to be a way to get rich, it specifies that the return would be "suplimental income" at best.

so where does he find that it "makes a bunch of promises?" he doesn't. He just automatically becomes a skeptic because I mentioned that it was on the Guam/Micronesia craigslist. If I had said it was a local thing he would have sung out his support.... It doesn't matter what the venture, if I propose that I do it in Guam, it becomes shady, stupid or a long shot. Why?

I'm certain I don't understand it.
I don't know why everyone feels such a hostility to the idea of living in Guam (though most people sing two tunes at once "That sounds like a dumb idea" and "I'll come visit you"). whatever it is that makes people instant critics, I'm really getting sick of it. I suppose I'll keep my plans between me and you (dear reader) from now on, because I don't think people are asking because they really want to know, and I could sure do without the Eeyore mentality they bring to the table.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Forced Day of School

YEHAW!

I'm back in school and I think I'm going to LOVE it. I am taking classes that interest me, aside from Biology.... (who knows? I may become keenly interested in that as well). I have been uber stressed about whether or not I should withdraw from school and concentrate on saving up money for my move to Guam in January, or if I should go to school ('cause I realllllly wanted to) and spend a semester saving up in order to be able to move to Guam. I was also considering staying back from Guam, because I'm really excited about school. Anyway, Now I can do both (thank you, Dad) and I am now really excited for both, and really optimistic.


my classes

Biology 1010 (all about frog guts or something)
Raquetball (PE credit)
Intro to Theatre (all things to do with stage production)
Digital Media Essentials (multimedia software; web design, video, photo, sound, flash animation)
Script and Text analysis (the nitty-gritty of storytelling)

so... 14 hours. not bad and I think I will love this semester. I still intend to go to Guam in January... unless something big changes before then. I plan to make a documentary of wildlife on Guam. I am going to try to get a marine rig for my camera so I can take it scuba diving, but those things cost more than my camera did. This semester I hope to learn some skills to help me in developing my portfolio, I also think I will learn some major important techniques for writing, so I hope to finish a script before the end of 2009.

now.... to buy books and such.

I

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Hide in My Room

I have been pretty stressed out lately. I Have been dealing with a lot of conflict in several different aspects of my life.

I know I've blogged before about my "new outlook" on religion... I have realized that everyone can find the answer they want. And I feel that the answer that I have gotten was a direct result of the attitude I have had. I have said I have no animosity toward the church or it's members. But that is probably less true that I have let on. I have been fed up with mormon culture for a looong time. And I feel that there are many things about the church that have become common practice, though not actual principles of the gospel. I have allowed this aversion to misinterpretation to affect the way I hear or see the good intentions of those around me, and in turn, this has affected my views of the church as a means and not an end. I have had an eye peeled for examples to prove my point that the church has many flaws, I am now realizing that these are not inherent flaws, but rather inadvertent missteps by its members, who deserve a little forgiveness for their humanity.

Anyway, coming to accept that I have not thoroughly examined these things has been a difficult thing to do, But also exciting in a way. I realize that I have had a bias, and other logical errors that make me eager to reattempt. One if the things that has complicated the process of deciding to give the church another try, is that I have recently become involved with someone to whom the church is very important. I have been hesitant to say "yes, I'll go to church.. even though I feel I have found irreconcilable differences with it" and this has led to discussions about the church between us which showed me those fundamental attribution errors that I have made about the church and its members.

I don't want to do anything for the wrong reasons. Especially when it involves someone else. So I took a long hard look at whether or not it was worth it to me to try Church again, for myself... not with regards to my relationships with others. I have decided that it is worth it to me. though I'm sure some will say that I have decided to go back to church to please and appease a girl... and it may seem that way, but it is because this girl has been involved in my introspective, philosophical, religious and spiritual exploration. but the choice is mine, for me.

I have also been trying to decide whether or not to go to school this semester. I didn't make up my mind until today (The first day of classes --a little late, huh?). It's crazy to thing that I had made up my mind to be proactive and take care of my financial aid paperwork before summer classes even started (I didn't go over the summer, but I wanted to get a jump on the application process). I have run into some major issues. first of all, I am under the age of 24, which means that I must have my parent's tax information on my Financial Aid application. Now, I think this is one of the dumbest things... I havent lived at home for nearly 6 years now. And thought my parents have done a lot to help me out, I don't think they consider me their dependent. I suppose time flies when you're having fun. This has been a really relaxed summer for me, and I guess getting financial aid kinda slipped down the list of priorities for me. but at any rate, I never got that information, partially because I didn't want to continue hassling my parents for their information, and partially because I was pretty sure it wouldn't be forthcoming anyway. My dad said he could find that information, but that he thought it would be bad for me. My mother emailed my sister to ask her if she had her tax info, and sent me a copy of the email.... that was all I ever really heard from her. And it seems somewhat like the forwarded copy of the email, to me was to wash her hands of responsibility for the task by showing that she had done her part in asking for it. maybe not, but it confused me to get a copy of an email to someone else without anything directed to me in the email. so it seems like more of an insurance thing.

So, today was the first day of class, and I decided to stay in bed. I wasn't sure if I would be able to go to school, and I was really tired. So I decided that indecision would be my choice. However, when I got up this afternoon, I began thinking of how much I really wanted to go to school this semester, and I decided to ask my dad for his tax information.

My dad told me that he would rather just shell out the cost of my tuition than go through all the red tape of dealing with the IRS and running the risk of getting no financial aid in the end.

I'm really grateful for that. I can now be excited for school, as well as be excited to move to Guam next year. the two can both become realities! So, my inclination to avoid my problems by pretending they don't exist... it didn't work, I'm just glad that I don't have to spend a year making up for my summer of procrastination.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

No Resolution

I know I've blogged about this before... not too long ago, even. But here we go, oh here we go again.

I should have known.
I can't help but think I must be doing things all backwards. I make these choices, and I am resolved to them. But then for some reason I will sabotage myself. And afterwards, while I lay totally discombobulated, disoriented and confused by my own behavior, I suddenly realize how my plan was set to fail from the start. I don't know how to explain it. I guess I'm really good at not considering things that may deter me from what I want, because to consider them would to be to consider failure and I really don't want to do that.... hence.... psshh.

Okay now I'll give you more specifics, my dearly confused reader. Fairly recently I told my Bishop that I was done with the church. I was really straight forward with him about my reasons, and he was very reasonable about it. He has this genuine concern for me. And it seems like after the conversation, he seemed confident in me and my plans. He praised my honesty with him and myself, told me that (for what it's worth) he would pray for me. And he told me that he was sure I would find my way, one way or the other. Then he asked me if I wanted a calling and I accepted, but that's a different story.

Since that time, I haven't been to church, I haven't read my scriptures, I haven't fasted or prayed, I haven't... Yeah, I'm not practicing.

At the same time, I haven't started drinking, I haven't smoked (okay, herbal cigarettes for film props... but they are NASTY) I haven't fornicated, I haven't gone off the deep end. I'm just being good on my terms, instead of by the terms of an organized religion. I acknowledged that I was still going to be living in Utah, surrounded by practicing mormons. And I thought 'know what... that's going to be a problem for you, Evan' and this is why.

I like girls. but not very many. I have liked girls who are non-LDS, I have liked a couple who are, but in choosing to be inactive, I was also choosing not to get involved with someone who is active. How could I expect someone who loves the church to love me, too? It's not fair. At the risk of sounding like an egotistical ass, I think I have something that many many many mormon boys don't have, so it has happened before that girls who have "RM" on their checklist end up being attracted to me.

But why can't I make the choice easily to not pursue LDS girls? I like LDS girls. LDS girls are good people, people I want to be around. But how? I don't agree with what they believe...

a puzzlement.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

makin' them goals a reality....

I hate it!

I got a problem. I like doing fun stuff. Fun stuff costs me money. I should be saving that money to realize a bigger goal.

Also, fun stuff cuts into my working time. I would MUCH rather be having fun (even sleeping) than working, and with my new working arrangements (work when I want to) I find it hard to commit to work when there are so many things I would rather prioritize.

Seems like I'm having some trouble keeping my eye on the prize. I know I'm going to need a LOT of money to make a smooth transition to island life. I guess I feel like it's far enough away that I don't need to consider it in my immediate decision making.

I have a couple of ways of rationalizing my spending that make absolutely NO sense.
first, if I happen to find say... 20 dollars. then I feel justified spending a little extra money. That makes sense right? I can splurge and eat out, or I can go bowling with friends.... $20 extra bucks to be spend however I want! But, I spend that 20 dollars several times. I will spend it one week on bowling and the next week, when friends are going to Olive Garden or something, I think "oh yeah, I found that 20 bucks... I can afford it!" knowing full well that I have already made a purchase based on that exact reasoning. Dumb. A recent example of this is when I cashed out my coin jar/goldfish bowl and had a little more than 50 dollars.

Another thing I do is refrain from spending. This always catches up with me. I will forgo a trip to Taco Bell or "Cafe West", and cite this as justification for spending 15 bucks later. even though I would be hard pressed to spend HALF that amount on food at either of those places for some reason I think it's money I can spare all of the sudden.

If I set my mind to it, I can pinch pennies like nobody's business. But every once in a while I start getting this urge to splurge, and I feel like I deserve it, or earned it rather. Anyway, starting next monday, I intend to stop eating out, stop making those "little" $5 purchases (5 times a day) and start being as frugal as possible. Hopefully I will qualify for some financial aid this fall.. checkin' on that in the morning!

peace yawl.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Ancient Writing Discovered!

Hi All,

I found this really old, fictitious story I wrote over 3 years ago that I never finished.... I dunno where it was supposed to go... I only wrote it because I was able to maintain a sort of lucid dream as I wrote it in which I didn't have to consciously move the story forward, but I could explore my surroundings very vividly.... dunno if that makes any sense.

I wait for the hissing that would announce a complete stop, and a completed leg of my little trip. I'm getting off here. The bus rocks slightly --like a boat-- with the shuffle of my fellow passengers, as we filed onto the curb one by one. The misty air stings my eyes as I looked east. No the light stings, and the mist amplifies the light. But I take little time to observe my surroundings. Why grow close to something I am leaving behind? Now I trudge up the slight incline toward the light. as I watch my feet, my steps grow shorter, I develop temporary destinations to attain, A light pole - posters scattered among the tacks and nails, "lose weight!" ...but I don't need to. "Make money while you sleep!" ...but I can't. 'Call me now for your free reading!" ...Sorry, but I don't care for fairy tales.

A new center of focus, the window of New Delhi Sandwiches, "Help Wanted."... Amen. "100% Natural herbal remedies." not my cup of tea. "ORDER TO GO" how had I missed this one? That's my bag, baby... but I've got to run.

Now around the corner and toward the steps. Going down. I am inconsiderate and I don't care, as I barge by those who are less sure of their footing. Relax people I'm a professional! I reach the bottom almost a full second before the next guy, I'm making good time. I Pass the water fountain- greening with age. Yet the figures are children at play, how is that? ...must be the fountain of youth.
I arrive at the place and sit, I sit on the place- a dilapidated park bench that had seen at least four decades. It bears the etchings of a thousand different people, characters, individuals. yet one marking was not so unique from another. they, as a whole, were nothing special, why then, would someone labor so hard to make their niche. It blends into a pattern so easily ignored. I couldn't stop myself, my pen.
when I finished my masterpiece it had a sparkle that stood out from the rest, still wet. I had made my point. Tomorrow it will fade like the others.
I suddenly wonder why it was so important to come to this place, but when I think about it, it wasn't that I needed to come here per se, but to get away from the familiarity of my dim and depressing dorm, it would probably not be so intolerable to a stranger, but experience takes the shine out of the light, when I stay to long in one place it is a real enough fact that the floor creeps up and the ceiling sinks down... and most definitely the walls move in. So, I've taken a break, I'm taking the time to address what is always at the forefront of my mind, but always blurred by the fact that I just am, sometimes I get overwhelmed by the fact that theres no way not to be- just to think. I will always hear, and always see, even with my eyes closed. so I change where I "am". now, what is on my mind? ....

...sorry my mind drifted. but I'm back... there is a Frisbee in the air, a dog on the ground, between them a field of attraction that anyone can recognize as a universal concept... and the universe will bring them together without fail. if the universe was fair and consistent it would have brought her to me, Why then, is she not seated by my side? I know there is a reason why. Could it be that she is not my Frisbee? it seems total nonsense to consider, but I try, when I resurface from within, I see the dog is gone and the day is abroad. The sun pushes at the shade from a weeping willow, and it is relenting. I make a timeless comparison. She is my sunshine. that is to say, my world revolves around her, and she is a billion miles away.

If I stay here much longer the pigeons will think I'm a recent addition to the bench. time to move. the sidewalk is slick where its not jagged and cracked, years of foot traffic have taken all irregular bumps from the surface. when I consider all the weight that has passed over it, one person (or two) at a time, I wonder how far the concrete has been mashed into the ground, bit by bit, pound by pound. Squirrels are darting about, congregating at the base of the larger trees in the park, I wonder if they actually communicate, I'm sure they could, but the question of whether they actually do arises when I consider that none of them seem to listen to the others, they concentrate so hard on what they have to say that they spare no time for silence, they could be an evolved species by now if they would just listen and cooperate.

Theres a gazebo set back in the shelter of a thick of trees, its smooth painted wood surface strongly contrasting the dark, rough bark of its surroundings. inside there is a couple, whispering. are they discussing a secret? thier secret to love? I shortly contemplate the possibility of eavesdropping from without the building. stealing some knowledge. but I know better, and I question the fact that such a impulse even entered my head. I keep walking, my posture a little less proud.
.....

-E.M.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Hit the Heartbrakes!

The title is no indication of the contents of this post. Except that I am going to mention this new band I found, messing around on Playlist.com

they are called Black Kids, and they sound so much like The cure I can't believe they aren't being sued for copyright infringement. but then again they have some of their own sound in there.

my favorite songs, Look at Me When I Rock With You, Hurricane Jane, and Hit The Heartbrakes

Moving on.

My little brother is in town for a week, I haven't seen him in 3 years, and now he's almost at tall as me. He still has the same mannerisms as he had as a 10 year-old, except now in a more awkward 14 year old body. He has the same laugh, only now he doesn't have such a squeaky voice, in fact it's kinda a creepy low voice, but i guess I've gotten used to it. My older brother lives up the block from me and he has a boat, so today the 3 off us went out on Utah Lake... after 3 attempted launches we gave up, the boat kept threatening to overheat, and on the last run it started burning oil something fierce, we decided to call it quits. Instead, we went and tubed the Provo River again (we took him Saturday as well) this time it went much faster, and no one dragged bottom.

My older brother works nights so I set up my hammock in my room for my little brother to sleep in. Since there was nothing good in the dollar theater, we went and played Pool at Ozz for about an hour. I didn't ask if he knew the rules... but he didn't break any so I guess he does. Gave him some pointers, I'm pretty much broke right now, so I didn't want to get any food there, but afterward, on the way home we grabbed some slurpee's at 7/11. Been a while since I played pool, and probably as long since I had a 7/11 slurpee.



Nothing big to report this time around. I am establishing some contacts in Guam, hopefully I can have some friends by the time I arrive, hopefully I can even find a roommate, and someone who can refer me for a job or somethin'.

Till next time!

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Going to Guam

Hello,

I don't know exactly what to say... I'm making a big change in '09. Ever heard me talk about the Gypsy in me? I feel like I was destined to live with my livelihood and possessions able to pack and leave at any moment. I have been conflicted with following that lifestyle and "securing my future" by staying put for long enough to do things in an orthodox manner. Ever since I can remember, I wanted to live in California.... Now I can't imagine making that work for me (not that this point in my life). I came to Utah looking for --don't laugh-- some diversity(okay you can laugh) but I didn't realize I was coming to the single most exclusive society in the nation. Maybe things would be different in SLC, but it seems like everyone is either a lover or a hater around here. I was just looking for somewhere with a lot of people, expecting for diversity to follow. But I think Mormonism is kind of a blanket identity that is woven into everyone's existence and seems to squelch any real diversity in people's personality. I guess I liken Mormon culture to Kudzu in the South. Kudzu was brought to the south to provide vegetation to the area, something for cattle to eat I think. anyway, the plant took over the place, permeating the countryside and choking out all the other types of plant around it. Mormon culture is like a creeping ivy. It envelopes the area until its all you see... Sure, there may be a great variety of trees/people, but they are covered in kudzu/Mormonism so thats all you're ever going to see. Driving down 51 in Memphis you don't see any variety in scenery, in Provo, you don't see any variety in culture.


So. you guessed it, I need out. I was doing okay here because I was feeling good about going to school and accomplishing something. I've made it here this long because I made myself stay put in order to get 2 years of residency so I could enroll in school at UVSC. I was actually looking forward to this fall semester because I think I may actually enjoy school. Last semester was my first, and I had no idea what to expect... and I hated being blindsided by things that everyone else took as a given, this coming semester was going to be great because I now know how school works, what teachers expect, how to register for classes, setting up a schedule that allows me to have some free time... hell, I'm even getting financial aid this time around (hopefully)!

But just as I was getting comfortable, someone got me thinking about moving. When that happens I fixate on the idea and really nothing else can distract me from it. Suddenly my great rent rate wasn't that great. School seemed like an obligation, Utah seemed like a cage.

I'm going to try to keep this short. I hear it gets boring to read my blogs when they go too long.

After a lot of research and pondering I decided to try to leave the continent. I knew a girl from Ecuador a long time ago, she told me it was the greatest place in the world and I got kinda enamored with it from all of her stories. Ever since I have wanted to live in Ecuador, and learn spanish, ride a turtle around, learn about another culture and maybe even help them out by building an orphanage or something. It seemed like a great experience and I have been planning to make it happen for over 6 years now... and I have made no progress. In fact, I realized recently that I have enjoyed the dream of going to Ecuador much more than I ever would enjoy the reality of going, I haven't even really done much research on the country, maybe out of fear that I would become disillusioned to it.

So I'm moving to Guam. I was browsing through Craigslist, looking through all of the states looking for a viable option/alternative to Utah. right in the middle of them I saw Guam. "Guam? what the heck..." I started doing my research on the island and I can't explain... it felt like exactly where I have always wanted to live. I read stories from the residents, and even when they are complaining I can tell they have an immense love for the place. Even the ones who "got out" recount the experience with fondness. I read up on their economics, the culture, the pros and cons of being secluded from the mainland... I feel like I have exhausted my sources for new information but I continue to scour for it, and find it. I can't hear enough about it!

Don't think that this is some infatuation with the idea of leaving the country. I am pretty much dead set on my plan.

here it is.

1. Work and go to school this semester at UVU. This will give me time to find connections, iron out the details of what I need to do to get there, save up money, wrap up my obligations here, get another semester of school under my belt, find an exchange program that will allow me to start a new semester at the University of Guam in Jan '09 so I don't have to wait and waste an entire year (getting residency/tuition) before I start going to school out there. I also intend to get a job as a bartender here in Utah (I think there are a couple of bars around here... mostly I guess I'm going to just learn how to mix a ton of different drinks, but some time behind the bar would help exponentially) and in Guam, work in a hotel bar. (their main hustle is tourism for Asians).

2. In January, move out to Guam. Start school under an exchange program and get some generals out of the way. Get a job and a mode of transportation (probably a dual sport motorcycle and later, a car). Housing is relatively cheap out there, so I will probably find a place a little bigger than I need, that way you can have a place to stay when you come visit, and I 'll have room to do what I want.

3. Like I said, I will probably work in the tourism/hotel industry since that is their main source of income. If not, I will get a government job - possibly with the Forestry dept.

4. I will be taking my video camera. I intend to make a documentary on the subject of the Invasive snake species there, the Brown Tree Snake, which has had a tremendous impact on the natural eco system of the island(though they are nocturnal, and therefore not a prominent issue to life on Guam, there are over 5000 snakes per square mile on the island).

5. I will probably be there for 3 years or more. If I am able, I intend to buy a house there. Housing is cheap for now, but it's about to start going up in the next couple of years due to the influx of military previously stationed in Okinawa.

6. I intend to live life on my terms. I am not running from anything. I am running to the thing that makes me happy.

I'm not done wandering, I'm doing this all while I still have it in me to do, and when I am too tired to continue I may settle down and do the whole "grown up" thing. but for now, I'm taking advantage of the fact that I have no obligations to anyone but myself.

"I got no strings to hold me down, to make me fret, to make me frown...."

I will be keeping you all posted on this. I haven't gotten too detailed in this initial post because I have already run longer than I should. More details to come. I'm sure in the meantime you will be asking me "why guam"... maybe I'll make that a post of its own.

Thanks for reading,
Evan