Well things are pretty darn shitty at the moment. Lets just say that my life (as I know it) came crashing down around my ankles as reality hit me upside the head. First, lets start out with my hard drive crashing... not allowing me to update my site or do anything on the web. Also losing all the e-mails that my writers had sent me... ect ect. So that sucks. But yesterday, coming home from Thanksgiving, I found out that the perfect little life I thought I had been living my entire life... has all been a lie. Everything that I thought was wonderful in my life (with the exception of Greg) actually isn't. The one thing that I could always be thankful for. The one glimmer of hope... to lead me forward into life, has vanished.

Lets just say that I found out that my parents don't like each other and never really have. For years they never spoke to one another, but stayed together because of us children. Now they are staying together because they don't know anything different. My parents are about to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary and for probably 38 of those 40 years they hated one another. I found out alot more shit to go along with it... but I just don't feel like sharing those details.

When I used to pray, I would thank god for giving me such a wonderful complete family. But I guess things aren't the way I thought they were. Its like I have been drunk for almost 21 years of my life, and I am just now sobering up.

This information also shows me how everything connects together. Like why my parents don't sleep in the same beds. (I thought it was because my mother has a terrible snoring problem and my dad is an insomniac.) Also, why my dad was such a drunk for the majority of my life. Until he forced himself into a heart attack. So many things just make so much little sense now... but my life makes less sense than it ever did.

So if any of you are wondering if I have died or not... I haven't. I maybe wishing I had... but I unfortunately haven't. I just need a little time to cope and figure out what my life means now. It makes it alot more difficult to believe you can be married to someone and be happy for many years when you realize that you own parents have been dillusional all of these years.

*sigh*

So here I am, just a little bit older, not a whole hell of a lot wiser. For those of you out of the know, I turn 26 today. I'm still having very mixed feelings about the whole thing. On one hand, I'm not that old. I'm not 30. I'm not 40. I'm not 50. So I can't be too old, if I'm not thirtysomething. On the other hand, I'm over a quarter of a century old. I've lived somewhere between one-third and one-fourth of my life, on the statistical average. All that time is gone, lost, unable to have again. And the further I try to think back, the harder it is to remember clearly. I have memories of high school, college, but further back than that, it's a jumble and a blur that I can only pick specific things out of, and even then with some effort. Older than that? Only a handful of memories remain. Childhood? Most of it's been blown away over the course of time. It's funny, but as you get older, you start thinking in terms of years. What's happened in a year rather than what's happened in a week, a day, a month... I'll make a big year end post the day before New Year's that'll talk about how this year's been for me, but I can only say thusfar it's been extreme. Nothing's been mild, I've got to give it that.

Anyhow, it is Tuesday (on top of being my birthday) so I'm going to watch Buffy and then 24, but I do want to leave you with a bit of lyrics that hit me particularly hard today. Erin and I were talking a while ago about Nickel Creek made her cry the first time she heard them. It'd been a long time since I'd wept at music, but I'll confess, I did shed a tear today listening to this new band I literally JUST found today. They're mainstream emo rock, really, and I have this sneaking suspicion they're going to be fucking huge soon. Seriously. They are that good. You'd like them. They're kind of Third Eye Blind meets Matchbox-20 with flashes of The Get Up Kids and hint of Bruce Springsteen. Honestly. Anyhow, I'll let the lyrics speak for themselves and I recommend you hit their site and listen to this song... you owe it to yourself.

NOW PLAYING: July For Kings - "Normal Life"
Lyrics: "I just want to live a normal life / get a fast car and a pretty wife / we could have children of our own / settle down here until they're grown / we could buy a house out on the beach / and just die there, out of reach / do you want to live / do you want to live / do you want to live a normal life..."

nireechan: *stares at the fish*
Navidad 18: is it dead yet?
nireechan: it thrashes occasionally.
nireechan: To spite me, I think.
Navidad 18: ah
nireechan: I think it's cursing god.
nireechan: Or death.
Navidad 18: why?
nireechan: I think if it could give death the middle finger, it would.
Navidad 18: lol
nireechan: It should have died a loooong time a go...
nireechan: I'd do euthenasia, but I don't have the heart to...
Navidad 18: throw it down the toilet
nireechan: flushing it down the toliet to die in the sewers somewhere, and not in my lukewarm room, seems cruel.
Navidad 18: it could make it to the ocean
Navidad 18: and then you could blame it on the salt
nireechan: Still, it's cold out there, and it's a warm water fish.
Navidad 18: ah
Navidad 18: you just want to see how long you can abuse that poor thing
nireechan: I don't do anything to it...
nireechan: I should clean the tank sometime though...
Navidad 18: whatever
Navidad 18: the two of you have a mutually mocking relationship
nireechan: I mock him because he's alive, and he mocks me by living.
nireechan: How philisophical.
Navidad 18: give that riddle to someone you don't want to see for awhile

So I feel obligated to make some kind of a post, despite the fact that I'm in a state of 1/3rd consciousness. It's been something of a manic weekend, so I really should write a long report, so despite the fact that I'm starting writing this at 10:45 a.m., I have a feeling the post itself won't be done until 2ish. I'll try and give you a full recap of the weekend as best as I can, trying to pick out details and string them together into some form of coherence. Still, even I can't work miracles all the time.

Let's start with Friday -- I got to have a little mellow of a Friday, hanging out in the office playing the C&C Generals beta until almost 5, since Erin and I didn't have fencing. We were going to do it Saturday, but things popped up in Erin's world, so we showed up around 5ish, hung out with Erin and Sherrie for a while, then Erin took off to get ready for the show and the four of us (yours truly, Joe, Lara and Sherrie) went to go get food. I brought some to Erin to eat backstage before the show.

The shows played better this time. Hound came across as a little goofier (mainly because it was the last night) and a bit more slapsticky. Not bad, necessarily, just a change of speed. Boundaries did play better this time, although still not perfect. I can't put my finger on why. Magritte came across much better (as said in my previous post) because I could hear everything this time.

After the show, we went back to Erin's place for the cast party. Slow start, big finish -- we headed out of Erin's place at 2 a.m. and rolled into the apartment at about 3. A good amount of fun was had.

Yesterday, Erin and Lara spent the day hanging out, so Erin'll have to give you a recap of how that went (if she so chooses -- no one's obligated here). I hung around the apartment and got caught up on my anime viewing (watched Vandread Second Stage: Volume 1 -- still need to pick up the other Second Stage DVDs...) as well as The Shawshank Redemption, for personal reasons which I will not discuss here. Joe came home with Steel Battalion, which I'm sure he'll spend endless hours mastering. Giant mech games usually aren't my speed, though, especially with so many controls. Still, maybe I'll pick it up and spend some time with it. Haven't really decided yet.

And last night, we saw DJ Shadow. The show was pretty good -- Shadow himself was excellent, although towards the end they cranked up the bass pretty good. I was pleased to hear him do parts of "Midnight In a Perfect World" in his encore (which started at midnight -- Shadow checked his watch...) , and it was fascinating to hear him blend two or three of his existing songs together into new compositions... I dug that. There were opening acts (I'd never been to this kind of show before, and this was Joe's first concert of any kind) and the first one wasn't bad, but the second one (and I know I'm going to take a lot of flak for this) sucked. Lyrics Born just wasn't my thing. He kept trying to get the crowd more amped than they wanted to be, and was failing. But the minute Shadow came on stage, all went well. I would've liked more Shadow and less opening filler. Shadow wasn't on stage until almost 10:30. Still, he put on a hell of a show. Joe and I rolled into the apartment shortly after 1. And I was in at work by 9:30. Dear lord...

Barrenhollow may run a few days late this week, due to Thanksgiving and the fact that I don't really want to anything strenuous tomorrow, until it's one of those few strenuous activities that's loads of fun and/or memorable. But we don't typically get those activities in my life. Still, a fella can hope, I guess.

Anyway, I have to honestly jet now, as I need to grab lunch, then I have two one-hour long meetings, then I get in the car and drive down to Santa Cruz for fencing, then I have to drive back home and promptly pass out. Remind me on Friday that I should be sleeping if you see a post from me.

A fun time was had by all last night. No fencing, but the shows played much better this time (I actually enjoyed Magritte -- I realized last time Jeff was actually standing in the line of sound for part of it for me, so I couldn't hear a whole lot) and we went to hang out at the cast party afterwards.

Erin's out with Lara right now having a girl's day. Joe's at work and when he gets back, we head into the city to catch DJ Shadow.

It's good to have friends.

I just found out that Chris Thile, the mandolin player from Nickel Creek, played 3x5 (one of my favorite John Mayer songs) *with* John Mayer at a concert last night (tonight? whatever...)

And I didn't get to see this...

I could cry... ;_;

So, yeah, it's Friday, thankfully, and I can head home in a few minutes, where I'm sure I'll spend some time playing Metroid Prime, as well as doing some more edit work on my play (and maybe even work more on a couple of other top secret projects just in the starting phase). I may even write some for next week's segment of Barrenhollow, but we'll see. I expect it to be a bigger post this week as we start to really get into it. Just what are The Lady's Eyes (those mysterious "stones" that everyone seems to be talking about) and why does everyone have such big reactions to them? Ah yes, the joy of it all. I'm enjoying the feedback immensely -- feel free to rip me, though, if you think I'm screwing up. I'm aware of the dichotomy of the way Barrett comes across in the prologue and the way he appears in Chapter One, and it is intentional... I think it'll start to make more sense the more you see of the bugger.

It should be a manic couple of weeks, between seeing Erin's show again on Saturday (and fencing lessons), plus the DJ Shadow concert on Sunday night, and then fencing again on Monday, then Thanksgiving on Thursday. Thank God I have Friday off (although more fencing, but at least I can sleep late) ... and then Saturday and Sunday off. I'm gonna need it.

The Ataris are playing in the city in mid December, so that should be another concert at least a few of us go to. And I know that at least some of us will go see "Die Another Day" and "Treasure Planet" soon.

Sooner or later I need to get the rest of the Hellsing DVDs (I only have the first one), the third DVD of Excel Saga, the most recent Lupin movie (Harimao's Treasure), Vandread Second Stage Vol. 2 ... Christ, they need to slow down the flow of anime so I can watch more of it. There's too much! And there's a Bebop collector's edition with 5.1 sound! My otaku is showing! And the movie should be out fairly soon! And there's new series I want to try! Dai-Guard! Ys! I still haven't seen any Kenshin! GGGGAAAH! *Cliff's head explodes*

NOW PLAYING: Afghan Whigs (defunct) - "City Soleil"
Lyrics: "'How you like me now?' / My friend, he say / 'How you like the madness of Citi Soleil?' / Roll the bones and catch a fire / Join the triumph of the choir / Citi Soleil, Citi Soleil / I love to say Citi Soleil / Ooh child, I'll meet you, child / On the sunny side, it's alright, it's alright / No lies and no cryin' / It's alright..."

Oh, the last of the BMW Films for Season 2 is out. It's from Tony Scott (who brought you Spy Game, Top Gun, Crimson Tide and Enemy of the State, among other things...) and stars James Brown and Gary Oldman. It's called Beat The Devil. I watched it and it's also pretty good (although I still think Woo's "Hostage" was better) and is definitely worth your time to download.

I was also sad to learn that actor James Coburn passed away on Monday. I always liked his work...

I promised a story piece around every Wednesday... but I didn't promise when. Still, I just finished up the first part. It's a little longer, but it's a bit more action packed. All the feedback from the last part was invaluable and I look forward to seeing more of it. Oh, there's also a regular blog post at the end of this story piece, so if you don't feel like reading the story and just feel like checking up on me, skip down there. There's also some links to some funny pictures you might enjoy.

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“Barrenhollow Blues”
A serial novel in progress (Week 2 of ???)
By Cliff Hicks

Chapter One

Anyone who tells you that all thieves sleep lightly is lying. Some do, I’m sure. Some sleep so lightly that even a mouse pissing will wake them up. I would like to stress, however, that I am not one of those kinds of thieves.

I was sleeping quite soundly when someone broke into my house. And while normally I wouldn’t have woken up, I, being the paranoid thief that I am, have several alarms configured to wake me up in just such an occasion as that one.

As one of the alarm spells shook me from my slumber, there were two large gentlemen breaking into the ground floor of my home. I am, of course, using the term “gentlemen” loosely, but “armed thugs” just sounds so thuggish. And it would be awfully presumptuous of me. Still, they were breaking into my place.

I heard them move straight towards the stairs, meaning they were intent on something particular. Me, I had rightly assumed. So when the two well-armed fellows busted through my bedroom door with crossbows drawn, pointing straight at my bed, I was more than ready for them.

I wasn’t in the bed.

Despite the fact that my door was in splinters on the ground, I wasn’t all that concerned. The two men rushed into the room, unloading their crossbows into the pillows I’d put under my sheets to look like me. The loud twangs gave them away and they charged the bed, shucking their crossbows aside and drawing short swords. Only one of them made it to the bed, as I’d shoved a knife through the throat of the second before he was more than few steps into the room.

Instead of simply laying in bed while these two men rushed in to kill me, I was hanging on a perch above my door. Everyone always wonders why people like large bedrooms. I have but two words: high ceilings.

After pitching the first corpse aside, I ran towards the second man, whom I caught completely off guard. Now while I’m sure he was expecting me to be attacking him with a knife or a blade of some kind, I was planning on finding out exactly what the hell these two thugs were doing in my house. So instead of a knife, I kicked my heel into his throat. Not quite enough force to crush it, but more than enough to knock him out. There’s a satisfying sound of an unconscious body slumping to the floor that you just can’t get anywhere else.

Less than an hour later, I was interrogating the bastard in my basement. All of these old houses have basements that sprawl on forever – deep, cold and barren, like a whore’s heart. And just as isolated.

A good four stories beneath the surface, I walked into the room where my captive was bound to a wall by chains. “So,” I said to him, “it looks like you didn’t listen when they were giving you a briefing and told you the part about me having done four years in military and espionage with the Imperial Army during the last War.”

The man sneered at me. He was wholly unremarkable in every way possible, as nondescript a thug as you could possibly find. No remarkable facial features, no scars, no facial hair. The man who I’d killed earlier had the exact same lack of remarkableness. It was uncanny and disturbing. Call it the thief in me, but I like some detail I can latch onto, something I can attach to these people so that I can remember them in years past and draw strength from them.

Just because I’m good at killing people doesn’t mean I like it much.

“Doesn’ matter. There’ll be more. More killers, more robbers, more people coming for you. You’re gonna be lookin’ over your shoulder the rest of your life. Jus’ gimme the stones an’ lemme go and you can have yer life back,” he spat. “Otherwise i’s never gonna stop… never.”

“The stones? What do you want the…”

“No questions, jus’ yes’r’no, right now,” he wheezed.

I cocked my head to the side a little, staring at him carefully, weighing my options and humoring this presumptuous little prick for a moment. It felt like hours before my voice broke the silence. “No.”

“Y’r funeral,” he said, spitting blood onto the stone floor. “An’ mine. Firastican vitae en morte.” I could hear the words rolling off his lips, but it was as if my body was moving through molasses in an attempt to stop him, running only a few feet before I was blasted back against the wall of my torture chamber when his body exploded into flames, consuming him into ashes immediately. Dead men tell no tales.

After a few minutes, I drew myself back up to my feet and dusted my clothes off. “Bastard.” It was time to find out just what the hell I’d gotten myself into. I moved back up the stairs and into my room, getting a change of clothes so I’d look like I’d fit in with the slumlands a bit more. I knew I had an old friend to see, and I thought to myself that if he didn’t have some answers, it was going to be a very bad morning indeed.

* * *

“What do you mean you can’t move them?” I asked River, my fence of many years. “You’re the one who set me up with the damn job, and you quoted prices to me!”

River wiped grease off his hands, almost as if he was wiping his hands of me. “Well, now I’m unquoting prices to you,” that gravelly voice of his said to me. Like all criminals of Barrenhollow, River had a legitimate business to keep himself low profile – he fixed carts and wagons. “There’s no way I can move those stones. Not now, not ever. You’d be better off giving them back to the House you stole them from.”

“Give them back? Are you MAD?” I was shouting almost at the top of my lungs now. “If the House of Camdion found out who stole those stones, they’d have an entire legion burning down my front gate right now, Hollow rules or not!”

“Well, then give them or charity or something. Toss them in a gutter somewhere. I don’t care what you do with them, but get them out of my shop!” he threatened. “I feel uneasy just having them in here.”

“What’s gotten into you, River?” River wasn’t his real name of course – I don’t even know what his real name was – but it was what everyone called him, as anything that moved in this town flowed through him.

“Look, Barrett,” he said to me as he put his hand on my shoulder. I never liked when he did that. It meant bad things. “You’ve been like a son to me since you’ve gotten back from the war. I mean it. I know people always tell fellows things like that right before they lay into them with the bad news, but in my case it comes from my heart. If I had another way out of this, I would take it.” He paused and took a long deep breath, lowering his eyes before he raised them back up to match my stare, a resolve I liked even less behind those dark brown orbs of his. “I don’t. Go. Get rid of the stones and forget you ever touched them.”

“River…”

“NO. I want you to go. Now.”

“River…”

“Barrett. Now.” I had forgotten I was holding the bag with the stones in my hand the whole time, but I remembered as he looked down at the bag with a sense of trepidation and fear. “And take those cursed things with you.”

I turned away from him and walked towards the entrance of his garage. As I reached the doorway, I paused to look back, only to see him shake his head at me and turn away. I tucked the bag into my pocket and moved away from the garage. There would be no answers here, and only more questions that I didn’t even want to ask.

--------------

So? More action, yes? Not quite as much as I know everyone was hoping for, but we've still got more coming. The story's just getting started and I don't want to fire all barrels right at the beginning. Please leave more feedback, as I'm genuinely interested.

Now, on to other things...

The pictures I was talking about? This is me in 1999. Not bad, but not great. This second picture, however, is one of the best pictures I've ever seen taken of me. This is me in early 1997. Both of these pictures were taken during my tenure at The Daily Nebraskan, where I put in five years. The first one is just me at a party the DN was holding. I don't even remember who that is next to me, truth be told. The second picture, however, was the first column headshot the DN ever took of me. They hadn't given me any warning, they hadn't told me even that pictures were going to be taken -- I basically just showed up for work one day and they said "We're running your first column tomorrow. Go get a mug shot taken." As it turns out, they delayed my column by a day because of breaking news, so I came back the next day, clean shaven and having actually slept (in that second picture, I've been up around 48 hours), and a new mug shot was taken. And this mugshot never saw print. It was, however, shown at EVERY Daily Nebraskan semester end banquet I ever attended. At every banquet, they would show all these pictures of staff members at parties, looking goofy and whatnot. Well, I figured when I left the DN that the picture was gone, which would have been a shame, because I'm particularly fond of it. As it turns out, the DN celebrated 100 years of publication not long ago and they put together a collection of all these slides and posted them to the web. So there you have them.

In other news, I've been listening to this new Audioslave album a lot since it came out on Tuesday. If you have heard of them, it's Chris Cornell (who used to be the lead singer of Soundgarden) with the three musicians (and NOT the rapper) of Rage Against the Machine. They've formed this new band that's great with this cool, energetic sound... I'm really digging the CD, so you might want to check it out.

That's all for tonight (although technically it's morning, but hell with it) ... so enjoy your story section, and I'll try and post other random thoughts from work tomorrow.

NOW PLAYING: Audioslave - "Hypnotize"
Lyrics: "Well, it's time to see, / You've got to give or you're gonna receive / It's time to see / You've got to live if you wanna believe / You can be."

So... it was a mad, mad, mad, mad, mad, mad weekend. But it was LOADS of fun.

Since Erin and I didn't have fencing on Friday (she needed a break), I swung by and picked up my Xbox Live gear as well, and blew much of the afternoon/evening on it (until Firefly/John Doe, natch) playing both Mech Assault and Unreal Championship. Both are quite fun, although I prefer Mech Assault. (Oh, I'm gametag: Devinoch, like you couldn't have guessed...). Firefly was great as was John Doe (although Joe and I called this episode a mile off...) Oh, and I got my hair cut on Thursday. Back to being shorter again.

Saturday, however, was the grand fun day. Worked out a little in the morning, wrote a little in the early afternoon, then headed down to Santa Cruz to see Erin's show. There were three Stoppard plays -- The Real Inspector Hound (which Erin was in), Boundaries and After Magritte. Pardon me while I kick into critic mode for a moment.

Of the three shows, Inspector Hound was clear and away the best of the three. The actors all had kind of an odd chemistry about them, which was great. I rather like watching acting in the state of collapse (in case you aren't familiar with the show, Inspector Hound features a play within a play, and the play within the play is supposed to be AWFUL, so the actors are encouraged to have a field day with it). Although there were a few technical mishaps, I personally only think they added to the performance. All the actors did excellent jobs. Erin was blissfully over-the-top, with enough melodrama to fill three or four high school productions (intentionally, of course), and she did an excellent job. If you haven't seen the show yet and are remotely in our area, I recommend going and seeing it. Other performances that were quite good in that play -- Ronald Raymond (who plays Moon, one of the two critics) was dead on solid, Kyle Wood (Simon Gascoyne) was excellent during his shining moments and not too bad when it seemed his energy was out of synch, Shanelle Robertson (Felicity Cunningham) played the part of a terrified and out of place starlet with pinache, and quite frankly, seeing Bodhi Woodsorrel (Mrs. Drudge, yes MRS. Drudge...) deadpan lines with a headset on facing straight towards the audience like he'd never had an acting lesson in his life was great. I think that at the beginning it wasn't quite manic/chaotic enough, but it rolled into its frenzied conclusion quite well. I must confess, however, that Kenneth Rudnicki (Major Magnus) lost me at the very conclusion of the play -- are we still in melodrama or are we in fine acting again? I think he tried to straddle the line and play it both ways, which left me a little unsatisfied. Still, it's most definitely worth the price of admission.

On the contrary, I didn't much care for After Magritte, although I think much of it has to do with the script itself. It's a much more surrealist play and while I think it would probably read well on paper, it just doesn't flow well in performance, and seems, well, forced for lack of a better word. On top of that, one of the actors (Johnathan Whittinghill) swallowed some of his lines and they weren't audible, despite the fact that I was only four rows back. I dread to think of what the people in the back where trying to make of it. It wasn't a bad show, but it just wasn't a good show either. I can understand what Stoppard is trying to do and I can appreciate it as art, but I didn't enjoy it all that much. Again, maybe it's me, I've never been much for surrealist work in the long form.

Of the three, Boundaries is the hardest to comment on. I liked the dialogue and the flow of the show, although I'm not sure that Kyle is quite as suited for the part here as he was in Inspector Hound. Richard Reilly (Johnson) was absolutely convincing as a lexicographer and carried himself well, although the interaction between him and Kyle (Bunyans) seemed, well, off-pace ever so slightly. There were moments where it seemed like they were in perfect synch and then there were moments where it seemed that one was simply either a step behind or a step ahead of the other. Since Joe, Lara and I are going down to see all three again on Saturday, I'm looking forward to seeing how this show plays out a second time, as I think they may just have been having an off night.

After the shows, Erin invited me to go out drinking with the cast, and Sherrie and Erich popped in a little later. Loads of fun was had, mad stories were told, and I had a little too much to drink, so I ended up crashing on the couch and driving home the next morning. (Man, it's incredible what a change in weight does to your tolerance. Or maybe it's just the fact that I drink so rarely... hard to say.)

Yesterday, I went out and acquired something of a new wardrobe. I bought several pairs of pants, because when I had been down visiting last Monday, Christy (who LIED when she said she had no interest in my pants) remarked that I needed smaller pants, because it looked like they were way too big for me. So I went out and bought several pairs of jeans, a few pairs of slacks, a couple of shirts and some other odds and ends for the apartment and myself. Trying on the new jeans and finding out how many inches I'd dropped off my waist was a nice surprise. It's just a reaffirmation that this whole "losing weight" thing is a good idea.

Anyhow, I really shouldn't chat TOO long today, as I have to bang through work at a manic pace to run a few errands before I head down for Erin's place for fencing today. Thanks to everyone who's given me feedback on the first part of the novel thusfar, be it in the comments, to my face or in IMs. I appreciate it all. So you know, I do realize the beginning is a little description heavy, but I wanted to paint an accurate picture of the city itself, as I think it's an important image to get. But you'll all be pleased to know that the next section has quite a bit of action in it and should grab you by the ears and drag you through some excitement, whether you want it or not.

Hope this finds you well.

Haha! I'm alive!!! So you can stop partying and hoping to dance on my grave =P

But besides that, much goodness going on here. Quit Clientlogic at flipping last! Looking for J-O-B. And finally getting A+ certified in the next two weeks with any luck since for some odd reason employers are using a test that asks whither you know the difference between a ATA interface port and a Floppy port *shrug*. So go figure the test is going to cost a pretty penny ($200 to be exact or close to $300 if you don't investigate the price). This week though I've actually enjoyed being in Vegas for the first time in a very long time. Nintendo is doing their Cube Club here this week and next week and I've been going down since Thursday and it's pretty fun. Makes me wish there was a place like the Cube Club here all the time. Flipping great place to meet people into games and of like-mindedness a bit easier here. Albeit threes always the little kiddies that are there just to annoy me, but after a couple minutes they get their carcass handed back to them at some Godzilla so I guess it works out. Other than that the X-Box Live got going this Friday and I'll be damned if it an't cool. I still would much rather use a keyboard for messages, but that’s just me. Something about 8 people screaming in my ear their smack talk in whatever lame voice filter they have enabled just don't work well with me. Plus the whole buddy system for the Live seems to be a bit of a pain. Games are quicker than any I've played in ages so it's practically useless to get to know any of the people your playing with unless you know them to begin with. Other than those gripes the console games online seem to be working well with me. Just wish they would put a latency meter in all of the games so that I could have a rough guess as to whither or not the round is going to be enjoyable/people are going to drop. Anyways...that’s my little bit of confusion slapped down onto the site. Did it confuse you? Did it bring happiness to your life? Did it reveal to you the meaning of life? If none of the above? Who cares!!! I'm going back to Mechassault to hand some more people their arses with the Ragnarok Mech!!!

Gametag: Kermit007

Oh...and as a sidenote...I saw Jackass...Best $8.75 cents I've paid in a long time in the theaters. I know if you have a braincell your not supposed to like it, but damn...if your looking for an hour and a half of mindless fun this is your movie. Go see it...at the verry least hit up the $4 or $6 matine showing. Best seen with large crowds of people ;)

I haven't written a story in a very long time, so when the urge came, I didn't ignore it. I thought I'd share though, since y'all will be bored otherwise.

And I wish to state for the record, that I was insanely cheerful during the writing of this story, though it is really depressing, and I am a well balanced person, with lovely parents and many, many good friends. The idea for this story came during high school, many, many moons ago, and only now got written in any form. And I was a happy person then too. So no calling psycologists for couseling sessions. ^^

And it's really depressing folks, so read at your own risk. Comments would be extremely welcome. ^^

The Train by Erin Frost

The train continued on its path, heading steadily toward no specific destination. There was never a destination. Only meanderings. Answering calls from the ones who could call. To take them, that was the only reason the train existed.

...

Sharon tucked her hair behind her ear again, and trotted down the hallway. If I hurry, I’ll just make it in time for the bell. She turned a quick left, then a right, then bee-lined for a door tucked in the corner of the hall. Right as she opened it, the bell signaling lunch rang. She caught a final glimpse of students pouring out of classrooms before she shut the door to the storage room.

This was her hiding place. Her refuge. Other people hung out with friends during breaks, and so did she. The only difference being her friends resided in textbooks and novels, rather than in the physical world. She was tolerated by the nicest of her classmates, despised by the rest, for the sheer fact that she was smarter, and just a tad different. Rumpled clothes that only sort of fit, short, bony stature, and a hunched stature didn’t help her image any, but she didn’t care. She liked her books, and her studies, and as far as she was concerned, the rest of the world could fuck themselves.

Unfortunately, they didn’t. The world liked to torment Sharon. Teachers called on her when they noticed her, and the bullies and assholes variety of student found her a prime target. Her parents only saw her when she did something (or everything) wrong, so they could throw painful little comments in her direction. So, she stopped being a convenient target for anyone to find, hiding in closets during breaks, and leaving school just a little early, so they couldn’t find her, and taking to the local coffee shop till they closed. It worked, most of the time, and rest she could handle.

Sharon sighed as she opened her math textbook. People were strange, painful to think about. Numbers made sense, they always did, and they were a comfort to her. Why aren’t people like in my books? Are they all so blind?

She read her book, and the numbers clicked in her brain, making perfect equations, with a simple beauty she admired. She became so lost in her math that the sounds of footfalls out in the hall didn’t register, and it was only when the door opened that she realized anything was different than yesterday. And by then it was too late.

...

He left her bleeding from several different wounds, from when she had tried to struggle. A broken arm, bone ripping through the skin, to show his strength, a cracked skull marked when he’d smashed it against the ground, when she’d struggled too hard. Her jeans around her ankles, and her underwear ripped. She could do nothing but moan quietly, and pray, mental screams for the pain to end, for anything to take her away from this wreck of a body. To make the torment stop. For all of it, to just…

...

The nurse tucked the sheets in around the poor girl’s body. She hadn’t moved at all since they’d brought her in from the school, except to open her eyes. But all she did was stare out, at nothing.

No one knew how long she’d been lying in that janitor’s closet, and no one had come forward to admit to seeing anything yet. The nurse sighed and started to leave, but stopped at a strange sound.

A train whistle.

The nurse shook her head. There were no train tracks for miles. She’d been on duty too long. She shut the door behind her.

There may not be much in the way of posting this weekend. It's pretty manic for everyone, but I'll do what I can to make some kind of post each day, even if it's just something short like this...

You know... why do computers have to fight us so much? Can't they just do what we want them do, dammit, and make things easy on us?

Thanks for all the feedback on the novel's beginning thusfar, and please, by all means, keep it coming. I am reading it all... (and will change Empirical to Imperial, sooner or later...)

NOW PLAYING: The Wallflowers - "How Good It Can Get"
Lyrics: "Now move in / Come up close / You look like / You've maybe seen a ghost / Tell me / Has someone gotten to you baby / Now open your arms / Pick up your head / Open your eyes / So can see / What happens next / You won't believe / Just how good it can get... / We'll make a lover / Out of you yet... "

So we are moved in now. Good.

My job is doing great. Good.

I get my kitty in about 2 weeks. Great.

So my hardrive crashed last night losing all web page and e-mailes. BAD!

Other than that, things are going pretty well. Greg and I are going to Disney the 21st. So that'll be good. I just feel so divided from everyone. I haven't talked to Cliff or Erin or Lara or anyone like that since we moved. Our departure didn't go too well with our other friends either. So I feel a little alone and disconnected from the world. I think that may change this weekend though. We were supposed to have our party, but thats not going to happen. *cries*

The house is looking cool though. Slowly. Oh, one of my co-workers seems bent on the idea that she is going to make me a movie star. So she sent in my resume to the guy who is casting for the second Legally Blonde... along with prolly 20 other places that are casting for movies right now. I suppose thats good. Not like I am going to turn down a job if it is offered to me. I would like to be acting, but I don't have time with working and starting school back up again. *sigh*

JOKE OF THE DAY:

Q: Why did the blonde get pulled over by the police?
A: Her headlights weren't working, so she was flashing people.

So I promised to begin "Barrenhollow Blues" around today, and I intend to live up to that. Right now, I'm just going to post it here in text form, although I'm working on another solution, sort of a mini blog that will keep track and archive everything, but I won't have that in place until next week, I think. All I ask in return from giving you a free piece of fantasy fiction to read each week is that you comment. Doesn't have to be a huge comment (although certainly huge comments are indeed welcome), but a comment of some kind. I'd like (if I might be so presumptuous) to see at least one comment every week, just so I know that someone is indeed reading this and I'm not performing the equivalent of literary masturbation. You can make suggestions about the direction the story is going. You can make comments about the characters, be they positive or negative. You can make comments on my writing abilities (or lack thereof) ... you can say whatever you like, as long as you say something...

And with that, let us begin... Barrenhollow Blues:

“Barrenhollow Blues”
A serial novel in progress
By Cliff Hicks

Prologue

Concorde and I had been riding hard since dawn. The horses were tired, but there was no time to waste, and I don’t particularly like stopping until I’m home and safe in Barrenhollow. It wasn’t as though there were marshals directly behind us, but I can’t say the possibility of them behind close wasn’t weighing heavily in my mind.

We were thieves, after all…

A storm had begun to rise behind us, the thunder rolling across our backs like a marshal’s rank breath. It was almost as if we were fleeing from the weather as well as the authorities. By now, our theft had surely been discovered back in Fellowdeep, but we had at least a day’s worth of riding ahead of the law, and they surely didn’t know where we were headed. They didn’t know who we were or even what we looked like. That, my friend, is careful planning.

The horses were panting as we hit the desert plains that led up to Barrenhollow, the long flat expanse of dust and dirt before the jutting protrusion that was the Empire’s Middle Finger. Barrenhollow used to be a military fortress for the Empire, back when we were still at war with the Northern Provinces. It continues to be an outpost for Empirical troops even to this day, but it’s become much more of a trade center than anything else.

Barrenhollow was called the Empire’s Middle Finger because of its unique geographical design. Between the Derth mountain range to the south and the Grath mountain range to the north, there laid an expanse some hundred miles between them, a valley of sorts, called The Flatlands. It wasn’t owned by either the Empire or the Provinces, because, truth be told, no one wanted it. The Flatlands flooded during heavy rains and the mud washed away beneath your feet in an instant. During the winters, there wasn’t any snow, but the cold winds blew ill through every fool who dared step foot in the Flatland Valley. Which brings us to Barrenhollow.

In the center of the Flatlands, directly halfway between the Empire and the Provinces, right in the center between the Derth mountains and the Grath mountains, laid Barrenhollow. The city itself was built on a plateau of rock that juts up close to a mile in the center of the valley. It was odd, to be looking at miles and miles of nothing then to suddenly spot this towering fortress city jutting out from the earth.

The city itself was oddly shaped. There were high walls surrounding it like a ring, and the drainage system that let water run off was really quite impressive. During the heavy rains, Barrenhollow became its own major waterfall spectacle.

We were about five miles from the base of Barrenhollow when Concorde needed a break. She slowly brought her horse down from a gallop to a canter and then to a stop. “Barrett, I’m sorry, but I need a moment’s rest,” she said as she slowly slid off the horse. “We’ve been going nonstop since daybreak and I’m still getting accustomed to this whole ‘fleeing for home’ thing.”

“It’s alright, Concorde, don’t worry about it,” I replied as I hopped off my horse with a lot more natural fluidity. “Considering you couldn’t even ride a horse when we met two years ago, I’m rather pleased to see you coming along as a rider.”

“Do you think they have any clue who we are yet?” she asked me, clearly referring to the authorities in Fellowdeep, the high-class aristocratic town from which we’d just left.

“Of course not, Cordy,” I responded quietly. “All they know about us is our calling cards.”

She giggled at that. Concorde stood a good half-foot taller than I, with long flowing chestnut hair that she had pulled back into a ponytail. Despite the fact that she had only continued to grow into her beauty, there were times where she was still nothing more than a giggling young girl. “I still can’t believe I let you talk me into that.”

“Well, we needed some kind of thing we could leave so that we would get a reputation.”

“Still!” she laughed at me. “A copper coin and a pair of brass balls? Don’t you think maybe we’re going a bit too far?”

I grinned back at her. “Not at all. They can’t be traced and it’s a way that we can build up reputations without names. The last thing you or I want is for someone to come looking for us. That’s why we use fences and intermediates. I’d rather that our clients have no idea who or what we are.”

“I suppose,” she sighed. She was still getting accustomed to the actual fact that she was a thief, even though she was quite good at the trade itself.

“Are you ready to finish the ride?” I asked and she nodded in response. We both mounted our horses and proceeded on to the base of Barrenhollow. At the bottom gate, two guards sat behind an armored barricade. It washed out every time it flooded, but they rebuilt the gate anyway.

“You residents here?” one of the guards asked us. We both nodded and tossed our papers to them, which the guards caught and started reading through. They nodded before tossing our papers back to us and parting the barricade for us to go through. “On y’go.”

To get up to Barrenhollow, you ride inside of the mountain itself, through all these winding caves and nooks. There’s a hollow half way up where a Wizard’s College resides. Almost a hundred years ago, the Wizards grew produce inside the Hollow, until the First Great War, when conflict between the Empire and the Provinces raged so far as to the Hollow (at the time, the city atop the plateau was called Wizard’s Nest) and during the battle, a few spells gone awry had stripped all the fertile ground from the inside of the Hollow. Since then, no food had been grown there and the Wizards considered the college a reminder of what happens when magick escapes the control of human hands.

Since then, the city has been called Barrenhollow.

As we rode up past the Hollow, Concorde turned to me with a big smile. “Ashe will be so pleased to hear that the job went well. And I’ll be glad to see Elie again. I know our job pays well, but would it be that hard to let them go with us?”

“Now, Cordy, you know we can’t afford anything that slows us down, so it’s best that they stay here, no matter how much you miss them,” I chastised. “Besides, you of all people should know that absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“I know,” she sighed as we rode the horses up through the last of the tunnels and into the main city. “I’m going to go see them and I’ll meet up with you tomorrow, alright Barrett?”

“Alright Cordy, you tell your husband and daughter I said hello.”

“You’re more than welcome to come join us sometime you know,” she smiled as she pulled her horse’s reins, starting to turn him.

“I wouldn’t want to infringe on your private time, Concorde.”

“You wouldn’t be, but I know you like your time to yourself and away from me and my silly behavior,” she laughed with that impish smile showing through.

I offered her an evasive smile. “Well, I do enjoy hearing myself think from time to time. Before you go, the merchandise?” I held out a hand expectantly.

“Catch!” she cackled as she tossed the leather pouch over towards me before she whipped her horse around and goaded the horse to gallop on and away. The leather pouch, like most things in life, fell into my hand without me having to do much. I squirreled the bag away into my pocket, having felt what I expected to inside of it. I looked up to see if I could catch a glimpse of my beautiful young partner riding off, but she and her horse were already lost amongst the sea of street vendors and commoners that littered the streets.

In the fog of commerce and chaos, she was gone.

I spun my horse around and rode the other way, down away from the lower class housing that Concorde was headed to and made my way to the Merchant’s District. Despite my career as a liberator of objects needing to be lost, I had to keep up a respectful front of some kind, so I managed a trading company as well. Thus I was able to explain my lavish house in the Merchant’s District.

With precision, I unlocked the gate, rode my horse in, relocked the gate behind me and rode to the stables, where I led the horse into his corral, and moved into my small manor. I realize you may be thinking, if you live in such a well-furnished place, why steal for a living? I ask you, my friend, how do you think I got where I am?

After hanging up my swordbelt and shedding my cloak in the entry way, I moved into the den of my house. There was a plush velvet chair with my name on it that I immediately moved over to and slumped down into with a sigh, kicking off my leather boots, stretching out, at ease for the first time in days. I never feel comfortable during a job until I’m safe within the walls of my home, able to relax knowing that the job is done and we’ll be able to go out and look for work again.

In my lap, I pulled the pouch out and set it in my lap, staring at it for a long moment. I must’ve stared at the bag for at least an hour or two before I finally steeled up the nerve to pull the drawstring on the bag. I didn’t even open it yet, merely untie it and leave it resting in my lap.

Eventually, I somehow found the strength to open up the bag, slowly, cautiously, like there was some poisonous snake inside of it. As I pulled the leather down, the two brilliant blue sapphires peered back up at me – The Lady’s Eyes.

They were a rare treasure, a pair of matching stones that were gorgeous to the eyes. Of course, as with any relic, there were all sorts of rumors and legends about curses and owners who’d died under mysterious circumstances. I had dismissed them as nothing more than idle wives’ tales, naturally, but years later, looking back on the events, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from wondering if in fact maybe some of the stories had been true, that maybe the gems were cursed. It certainly would have explained the chain of events that followed, the story I relate to you now...

--------------

Please, again, I beg of you, post someting on what you thought so far, friends, enemies, co-Touched ... I'm doing this so I can get feedback as I work.

There are days when I enjoy doing theater, and love the feel of acting, getting into costume, and everything about acting.

Today wasn't one of them.

Other than that, it was a good day. Acting class was fun, I made my acting teacher laugh, which I count as a good thing, I saw a beautiful sunset, and also observed some of the local wildlife (I saw a coyote across from my car in the fields next to the parking lot), and basically had a good day till I got to the theater and spent waaaay too much time doing nothing. Which sucked. A lot.

Yeah, I'm going to rot my brain with tv now. You should too. It's fun. ^^

I've never much enjoyed the sensation of waking up. Not generally. There's the moment when the alarm hits you full force, that blaring angry noise refusing to let you sit in your slumber. And sometimes you can simply slam the switch and give yourself a respite, but you still know the sound is coming. You know that morning has arrived and you can't escape it. So you sit there. Not getting up, not going back to sleep, merely savoring the warmth of the covers, and cursing the solitude. For no matter how small or large your bed is, it always seems too empty. And a minute passes. And then another. And you think to yourself, "I don't have to get up this morning. I don't have to get up any morning." But you do. The option to remain in bed is like the option to dance naked in front of your parents -- while it's a physical possibility, it's not one you're very likely to do. Maybe you have a window, and maybe you look out it, and gaze at the day, wondering (or fearing) what it will hold. Will things go your way? Will it all fall apart? And wouldn't you be much more content just sleeping? But you can't... that is morning. My morning, your morning, the morning of humanity. Doesn't matter. It's all the same. A morning is a morning.

It'll be a short day in the office today. We're getting less and less daylight these days, which means to give Erin fencing lessons I have to leave earlier so we can practice while it's still at least semi-lit outside.

I expect to post the first part of "Barrenhollow Blues" on Wednesday or so. I've scrapped three beginnings thusfar, trying to get it right, trying to get it to match up with the images in my head. Sumbitch. I'll get it, though. I have to. It's just taking a bit more time than I expected it to.

Joe's got 2/3rds of the first page now and he's really come a long, long way... The third panel is VERY impressive. He's gotten a hell of a lot better over the last year and is finally learning to adapt his style to whatever the story calls for. I wasn't sure he'd be able to pull off this idea that we're working on, as the way it's written calls for a lot of dark shots, lots of heavy lighting contrasts and I, quite frankly, had my doubts of whether or not Joe would be able to pull it off. The first panel was very good, the second one was more artistic than I expected (although it does match up with how it's written) but the third panel... the third panel showed that Joe's really grown as an artist. I can't wait until page one is done and we can pass it up to Greg for inks and down to Erin for lettering. It's gonna look incredible.

Anyhow, I'm gonna jet and get lunch here pretty quick. This whole Subway diet thing actually works. No lie. I can look at myself in the mirror again without complete self-loathing... maybe a little still, but not complete.

As Silent Bob says... "Do something."

NOW PLAYING: Taking Back Sunday - "You're So Last Summer"
Lyrics: "And all I need to know / Is that I'm something you'll be missing / Maybe I should hate you for this / Never really did ever quite get that far / Maybe I should hate you for this / Never really did ever quite get that... / I'd never lie to you / Unless I had to / I'll do what I got to / Unless I had to / I'll do what I got to, the truth... / is you could slit my throat / And with my one last gasping breath / I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt......"

It has been decided. I am going to see my first concert since arriving back in San Fran. On the 24th, Joe and I hit the Warfield and will be checking out DJ SHADOW...

HELL. YES.

I should not be up now...

...why am I up now?

Well, someone had to say something...

NOW PLAYING: Foo Fighters - "Next Year (acoustic)"
Lyrics: "Come on get on get on / Take it till life runs out / No one can find us now, / Living with our heads underground / Into the night we shine / Lighting the way we glide by / Catch me if I get too high / When I come down / I'll be coming home next year / I'm in the sky tonight / There I can keep by your side / Watching the whole world wind around and round / I'll be coming home next year / I'll be coming home next year / Everything's alright up here / When I come down / I'll be coming home next year / Say good-bye.. "

It's a nice Grey Sky Morning, bleak and desolate. Apropos for my mood, I guess.

I am starting work on the serial novel. It's called "Barrenhollow Blues" and features two main characters: Barrett and Concord. You want to know any more, you can wait until I post the first part next week.

NOW PLAYING: Mogwai - "Burn Girl Prom Queen"
Lyrics: (instrumental)

(You people still don't know what you're missing with Mogwai... Go listen to some of their stuff on Amazon or something... or CDNOW or something... ... maybe I'll post an MP3 up sooner or later. If I have time. And give a shit.)

Time to introduce you to new music!! ^^ Yay!

This is Nickel Creek

They've apparently been around for awhile (a decade or so) but they're really cool. And that decade bit is impressive, since they are all around 20 or so. ^^ Anyway, listen to the song "A Lighthouse's Tale" for some of the most beautiful story spinning in a song I've ever heard. You can go watch the video at Yahoo's Launch if you're so inclined; it's pretty. ^^

Anyway, I'm going to watch the weather for awhile. ^^

Because I know you're all anime freaks like me...

Another station to demand from the cable company, I guess.

Mmm... rain....

Which leads to... SNOW!!!!! YESSSS!!!

Welcome to the afternoon. This is, in fact, the afternoon portion of our show. I don't have a whole lot entertaining to write, but I do feel the need to write something, so here I am, producing content for your entertainment and amusement. I wouldn't want you to think we're all slacking here, so for your enjoyment, I will now sing.

*crickets chirping*

Or not.

I'm thinking about writing an online piece of serial fiction, maybe where I post a few pages once a week on here. Think you'd be interested in seeing something like that? Drop something in the comments box if you'd actually be intrigued in seeing something like that. Serial fiction is a fun concept because typically you set out without any idea of where you're going. It's a dangerous form of writing, because you generally don't have a whole storyline in mind, just general concepts. I have the concept in mind and if you people think you'd like to read something like that, maybe I'll do it. It would be fantasy (I'm taking a break from writing sci-fi for the moment, although if it turns out that I do start writing this serial fiction thing and people want a second one, I could easily juggle two, and I have a sci-fi idea still lingering in my head...) and I have the characters in mind and the first few pages will practically write themselves. But if you don't want to read them, I don't want to force them upon you. So lemme know what you all think about this idea.

Anyhow, I'm going to go get myself some more water to drink and then maybe do something highly impossible. We'll see. It sounds... draining.

NOW PLAYING: Dave Matthews Band - "Big Eyed Fish"
Lyrics: "But oh God/ Under the weight of life/ Things seem brighter on the other side ... / Oh God / Under the weight of life / Things seem so much better on the other side ... / No way, no way / No way out of here ... "

Well, my pants don't seem to belong anywhere else, so I thought maybe CNN would want'em. Get Wolf Blitzer bringing you "The State of the Pants Address" or something equally as vapid.

You know, I think that was originally supposed to be an attack on TV "journalism" (and I use the term very loosely), but I think I'm not quite awake enough yet to make it work. I'll post more later when I'm more conscious.

My computer crashed, right when I had a lovely long thing to post.

So now, I will attempt to post it again.

Oh, and before we start, Cliff, your pants *do not* belong on CNN.

So my History of Theater Design teacher told us a lovely story today (along with humiliating us, but that's another story), about this theater in San Diego. Many years ago, this theater in San Diego (I don't know which one) was hosting a touring production of Ben Hur. This production used a really neat design aspect, called a diorama. No, not that thing that you made in elementary school. This is something that was invented in the 19th century, and was a type of special effect. A diorama is basically several pieces of panoramic scenery put together, and stretched across a stage on two rollers. It was used to simulate travel; often there was a treadmill on the floor of the stage, and as the actor walked in place, the scenery would move, and voila! Look, ma! I'm walking to Rome without moving an inch! Anyway, for this production of Ben Hur, then were using a diorama for the Chariot race scene. Now, they had usually been able to install a treadmill on the stage for the horses (yes, I said horses, and I mean *real* horses) and chariots to race on, but the San Diego theater couldn't do it. So instead, they had fun. They set up two large ramps outside the theater, in direct alignment with the stage, and lined up with the scene loading doors. Right before the chariot race sequence, police would rope off the surrounding streets, and then instead of the horses racing on a giant treadmill, they would race up one of the ramps, *across the stage*, down the opposite ramp, *around the theater*, back up the ramps, and across the stage again, the whole time with this diorama set up and everything. The theater itself holds 3000 or so, but it's estimated that about 10,000 people would show up and hang out *outside* the theater to watch the racing.

No, I'm not lying. That's just freaking cool. ^^

And on the lamer side of all this: I tried to post this several times today, but I couldn't remember my login username for blogger.com. I could remember my *password*, but not my username. I felt stupid.

Anyway, I'm tired. Bedtime.

We moved! Yes we did! Now to get things unpacked...

I will put up a joke in awhile... but I am far to exhausted at the moment...

Tupac's dead my ass...

This is the 6th release he's put out since he he "died."

What, did this guy record a song every twenty minutes?

Oh FOX, you fools...

This will never work...

Nick Hornby writes great novels, but none of them would make good sitcoms.

What's next, "High Fidelity: The Weekly Adventures of The Musical Moron Twins and Rob?"

Ooo... look at the pretty colors...

National Weather Service

The end of the week is going to be fuuuun.... ^^ Anyone know what the conversion for knots into miles per hour is?

Boy, we've been lame lately, in our not-posting strangeness.

Allow me to fill my gap, in this random moment that I have right now, while I wait for Cliff to show up so we can take turns beating each other up. ^^

Hmm... so what to talk about... not much exciting has really been happening lately in my life. I've been keeping fairly busy with my classes, work, and rehersal. I'm a little worried about the play I'm in right now. We open next week, on Friday to be precise, but as of last week's rehersals, people were still on book (reading off their scripts), and people still didn't know their cues and blocking. Some of the main actors haven't showed up to the last 2 or 3 rehersals, and it's still feeling very haphazard and not very tight or ready at all. This has me a bit worried, but I think we still might be able to pull it together, if everyone works their asses off this week, before dress rehersals start. *sigh* I just have to believe it'll work out.

In other new, I might have gotten myself a role in a small independent movie, being filmed this spring in San Jose. I still haven't read the script, mosly cause I'm lame and haven't just sat myself down and said, "READ THIS, DAMMIT!" But that's just my own stupid fault. It's a small role, a talk show host, but it looks interesting. ^^

My housemates and I are all terribly busy this month, what with rehersals for me and Sherrie, and Megan is busy with work and her classes. We don't hang out as much as we did at the beginning of the year, which sucks, but really, we're busy for good reasons, and that's okay. We'll probably all have a lot of December to hang out and play, so we'll make up for lost time. ^^

Halloween for me was very fun. I managed to finish my ninja costume the week before, so I had it all ready and pretty for Halloween. We walked around in Downtown Santa Cruz, which turns into one big party for Halloween, and saw many strange and wonderful costumes. I decided that I wanted to be a little sexy in my costume, so I just wore a bodysuit I have (combined tank top and shorts) instead of the loose black pants I was going to wear, and thus froze my ass off throughly. I was lucky though, Megan was in stilleto heels, and she could barely walk by the end of the evening. I was just freaking cold. ^^

It was amusing though, I painted my nails black for the costume, and I didn't take it off until later, so I felt rather goth for the later part of last week, walking around with black nails, the remnants of my black eye makeup (I swear, the stuff takes 2 showers to be completely removed from my face), and then working on the logo for the comic (which is also dark and mildly goth), Cliff said I should be listening to The Cure, and I felt like I at least needed to be wearing one article of leather clothing. ^^

Anyway, that's all the excitement lately. Now all we need is an update from Liz and Greg-tron, and of course Mr. Dave, and we'll look like we're trying again. ^^

Go... find some other website to stare at blankly. ^^

I hate Microsoft.

Oh, now THIS is cool... the folks over at Fox have hired someone to make an Unreal Tournament 2003 deathmatch map that will be a reproduction of the Serenity, the ship in Firefly.

Keep an eye on the project over here...

You want drama? You want angst? You want righteous indignation? I must disappoint, I am afraid, as I have not got these things to give.

Well, that's not that I don't have these things to give so much as I choose not to give them to you. So yes, I have had a lot on my mind for the last week or so, lots of things that tax my brain and my soul, but they are not for you. Some things are best not shared, merely dealt with. So I have been dealing with them, as best as I am able. And no, they aren't the kinds of things you can get easy solutions for. Hell, I'm not even sure they're the kinds of things that have solutions. Do I want to talk about them? Not really, because it seems like I'm dwelling. I hate to be boring, and some of these problems have been with me for years, decades even. Maybe I'll talk about them with my friends sooner or later, but not with all of you. You deserve better than that. You deserve something more interesting, more intriguing, more engaging than me dealing with standard life shit. I try to be amusing with my posts, so the times when I just can't be bothered to be amusing, I tend not to post. Thus my week or so in mental limbo. The hamster wheel is still running full force, it's just that the glass to the cage is dirty.

Everyone in the crew has been fairly busy lately. Greg and Liz just moved into their new place, and I'm sure sooner or later they will post all about it, but when I spoke to Greg yesterday, he told me he was about to begin building desks, so they should be back among the online living soon. Erin's show goes up next week, so I would imagine that her rehearsals are getting more and more hectic, and I'm sure she'll tell you all about that sooner or later as well. She's also doing the logo for the comic book right now. The current draft looks great. Also in comic news, Joe has completed the first character sketch and started work on the first page. We have about half a panel done, which is a good start. Now to just deliver more kicks in the ass all around. Oh, and the name of the studio has to be changed. As it turns out, there already is an Anagram Studios out there. Suck. Oh well, I'm starting an email discussion about all the various names I think we can throw around and we'll see if any of them strike everyone's fancy. Then we can figure out some kind of logo for that.

Today's Monday, which means driving down to Santa Cruz to give fencing lessons, and it means I'll finally be able to see the first episode of 24 so I'll make some kind of post on that tomorrow. Oh, if you aren't watching Firefly and John Doe, man are you missing out...

What a world, what a world.

I should make a longer post today, but I find that I simply don't have the energy. Maybe tomorrow.

Blargh... I made a long post and then it just got wiped because the software didn't get through...

So, I've been busy, playing GTA: Vice City, it rules and all of that. You knew that.

I missed "24" and will catch it on Monday on F/X, so I haven't had a chance to write a review of it. I know, I'm a dumbass, but I missed it. I suck. Go me. Fun fun. I'll catch it before next week's, though.

I'll try and make a longer post tomorrow or Sunday. We'll see what happens.

Oh, this month I get older. Yay. Or something.