Posts in Category: Spring 2003

Exciting Update on My Movie Stardom

[As we all should currently know, I am right about to become a movie star. I’ve been invited to star in some dude’s student porno, and as such the phone calls have begun. Most of my friends know I’m not a big phone guy, so I don’t get a lot of calls.

Then again, most of my friends wouldn’t call me even if I liked being on the phone.

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The Meeting

On Thursday, the Filmmaker did not arrive at class until four o’clock (class starts at two, and the break is at 3:30). After class, I asked him where, specifically, we were meeting on Sunday. This was his extremely specific response: “At Michigan and Chicago.” Okay, it was pretty general, but I knew where it was, how to get there, and what he looked like, so I figured eventually I’d find him.

He said, “I work around there, so I figured we’ll meet there at noon, and then we’ll have lunch and I’ll show you the space. I’ll call you with more details and the specific address.” My response: “Okay.”

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Of Emdashes and Life

Well, through a strange and baffling miscommunication between myself and MovableType’s “search-and-replace” feature, I accidentally changed every single question mark on this blog into an emdash. So I had to go through every entry, sorting out which was an actual emdash and which was a question mark.

Re-reading the old entries, I realized something: my life is fucking boring.

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Oh, Emo!

I was just running some errands, and I was casually flipping through radio stations, which I don’t think I do often enough. I stumbled upon a station that was playing a song that was so stereotypically emo, it probably could be mistaken as parody. Acoustic guitars, girly-man singers, and bland pain.

The lyrics went like this (I’m paraphrasing): “I will always be alone, I will always be alone, unless you come to your senses.” Because obviously his relationship problems are only the damn woman’s fault, as is usually the case. Women. Where do they get off existing, am I right?

I tried to look up the song and the artist because for a second I was under the impression that that actually mattered. It’s impossible to find, though, because when you plug in “i will always be alone unless you come to your senses,” the hits are enormous—LiveJournals, GeoCities sites, and even one site that explains the intricacies of “coming out to your parents” (this cannot be a coincidence).

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Midterm Fun

I took my politics midterm today. I totally forgot about it, and I lost my study guide so I couldn’t even cram during humanities. I think I failed the entire essay portion (which was 50% of the grade). I suck.

Still, I came up with a new idea for a book that I fleshed out on the train ride home. I think I’ll do some preliminary outlining tonight. I don’t need to do much research, so maybe I’ll try writing this as I research for my Big Novel™.

Or maybe I’ll be too preoccupied with Trading Spaces fan fiction (thanks again, Ian!) to get much writing done.

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So I signed up to this website, on which I can find the books I’ve bought, am reading, or plan to read on the future, and I can make them appear on my blog. You’ve probably noticed by now that it looks like crap. Read on if you want to see me beg for help from people who are much smarter than me.

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Thursday Wrap-Up

I woke up at 8 a.m. today. I have no idea why, and furthermore, I have no idea why I was simply unable to fall back asleep. Despite the fact that I’m a lazy person and a college student (a deadly combination), I enjoyed waking up early. I felt like I was able to actually accomplish something before I settled into the normal routine. Maybe I’ll start getting up earlier on a regular basis, around 6 or so, like I used to in high school.


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Shooting — Day One: Snails Get Stuck in Molasses

I decided to take the train into the city last night. I don’t have the patience for rush-hour traffic, and it seemed timed well: the 5:44 arrived at Union Station at 6:31, giving me 30 minutes to get to the space, and the last train of the night left at 12:40, which gave me 40 minutes to get there, assuming I left at midnight like I was supposed to.

I didn’t leave at midnight like I was supposed to.

Now, before I get into the dregs of this entry and cause my many fans to lapse into a boredom-induced coma, I’d like to write a disclaimer at this time: shooting this film was not filled with hilarious reverie or anything remotely fun. It was boring as all get-out, and I plan to dive into why, exactly, it was so fucking boring. Also, it was pretty irritating, so maybe that’ll at least be fun to read about.

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