Posts in: November, 2003


Thanksgiving was dull this year. For a lot of deep-seated personal issues that burst violently to the surface a couple of years ago, our extended family no longer gathers to have a huge Thanksgiving feast. In fact, our extended family no longer really gathers at all, except at Christmas. We are required by law to appease the young’ns, despite the fact that nobody ever buys them anything they want (trust me, I was a young’n once, too—I know the look of somebody who is disappointed in his brand new sweater or her personally engraved Leatherman).

So, Thanksgiving was just me and my parents, as usual. My sister couldn’t get time off, so she didn’t even come home. Consequently, there were no fights or extended periods of food-flinging. How unfortunate.

I went out with Lucy on Wednesday night. We drove around for awhile and mostly sat in silence. It was late, I was pretty tired after having class all day, and she demanded that I stay home and sleep. I refused on the grounds that, since she decided to go home on Friday, I wouldn’t have a chance to see her again. I’m not really sure that inhaling her second-hand smoke in silence improves much on not seeing her at all, but in my own warped way, I believe it does.

I promised I’d call her on Thanksgiving to rescue her, however briefly, from her family. I didn’t call her, and I feel kinda guilty about it, even though I’m sure she didn’t care.

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I’m never going to graduate, and here’s why: during my third semester at Columbia, I took Screenwriting I. Being that I have a concentration in screenwriting, it was the first step (actually the second, but the first important step) toward that concentration. Essentially, the goal of the class is this: write three 10-15-page short scripts. One’s documentary, one’s narrative, one’s experimental. In order to move on to other screenwriting classes, you must pass the first one with a B or higher.

I got a C.

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Creepy Dan

There’s a guy Lucy hangs out with named Dan. Shortly after I met him, I took to calling him Creepy Dan because, frankly, he’s creepy. It’s hard to describe specifically why he’s creepy, aside from the fact that he launches “OMFG CREEPY” vibes that can be felt from here to Kalamazoo.

He has this hunched-over demeanor that screams, “This is normal only if I’m a hunchback,” and the few times I’ve associated with him, all he ever did was sit there and stare at her. No, not stared. Leered. And, as a close personal friend and unofficial sworn protector of Lucy, I’ve often said things to her such as, “Would it be all I right if I pulled Creepy Dan’s lower intestines out via his mouth?”

She often says no.

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The Girl Who Hates Me Hates Me Less

As I’ve mentioned, this girl Julie can’t stand me. But lately, she’s been somewhat more pleasant. In fact, now she actually talks to me. And when I say something to her, she doesn’t just grunt noncommittally and pretend she’s invisible—I actually get a response!

It makes the job less stressful and irritating, if nothing else.

Also: it’s snowing right now, and the wind is blowing strong, and it’s pretty fucking cold. I know it’s supposed to warm up the rest of the week, but I’m so fucking happy that winter is wedging itself into the city. I love winter!

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Five Albums of the Week

I stole this idea, with what I assume is permission (“And join in if you want,” he says), from Remy (shout-out!). Like me, he’s tired of the Friday Five, so he decided he’d list five songs he’s been listening to over the course of the week.

I’ve decided to up the ante and write about five albums I’ve been listening to over the course of the week. I’m way more anal-retentive than Remy, or anyone else on the planet, so I have a hard time listening to individual songs. I have to listen to the whole album as a cohesive whole, even if the whole album sucks except for one song.

In addition to that, I’m going to summarize my week using anecdotes that pertain to the particular albums.

Read on for my exciting top-five albums of the week…

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Good Fucking Mood

The weather was terrible. I only love rain when it’s accompanied by bitter cold and strong winds. It was pretty warm (for mid-November) today, which made the rain frustrating. I called in from work because I woke up tired and unable to function like a normal human. Plus, I had a tiny conference at 10:20, and I didn’t start work until one, and I really didn’t feel like waiting around. Nor did I feel like driving home in the rain in rush hour.

So, pretty much, I was home at noon and spent the rest of the day doing my homework. One could argue I could have gone to work and gotten paid to do my homework, but it’s not really the same. Work, even though I don’t do anything, is exhausting. I think it’s the mental frustration of being somewhere I don’t want to be without the ability to leave.

Today was pretty dull until about half an hour ago, when Gina called for the first time in a few weeks. My new number, it seems, fell off her caller ID before she could add it to her address book (sure…). We caught up briefly, but she had to go. She mentioned that apparently quite a few people from our class last summer have been asking about me (in a good way). I felt sort of bad about it, because none of the people I’ve seen from that class have asked about her at all. Of course, maybe that’s because they see her more than they do me.

Anyway, Gina calling sorta made my day. I think that may be a bad thing.

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My Day at Work

Today was not a particularly interesting day. I mostly just wrote. I finished the first draft of my screenplay, and I’m nearly done with my parody of Gogol’s “The Nose.”

I worked the desk in the afternoon. The faces are becoming more and more familiar, and that bothers me. I hate it when I get too immersed in my job. It’s usually around the time I quit. I will start crying if I become known around the film department as “U-Pass man.” I sincerely doubt this will happen, but unlikeliness of it is what’ll make it worth crying over.

Toward the end of the day, some girl kept calling to tell me the progress of getting to the building. She desperately wanted her U-Pass, and she wanted to get there before five. She barely made it—it was 4:56 according to the wall clock, which means it was 4:58 in reality. But she got it, and she was happy.

No hilarious VoiceMails or crying from psychologically deranged, possibly chemically dependent women today. Maybe tomorrow!

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The Girl at Work Who Hates Me

There’s this girl at work, who I’ve started to call Julie, and she absolutely hates me for no particular reason.

Now, okay, I know you, having read more than one blog entry here, are probably thinking, “But Stan, look at all the things you say and do, and then reevaluate your assessment that she has no reason to hate you. I think you’ll find that there are, in fact, many reasons.”

“But,” I cautiously respond, “I haven’t even had the chance to alienate her yet!”

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