Another frisbee practice, another broken nail. Came out with an injured knee, too, this time. The band's started recording, which rocks. Have to check my music video backup disds, make sure they all turned out OK. Warning! Si is now running on reserve power. Please save any open files and shut down.

I got home from band practice today to find that a spammer had posted one comment for every post I have on my site, all 196 of them (197 now). And, because of MovableType's interface, I have to delete them individually, confirming each deletion for each comment on each post as I went. A side effect of which was that I was given a sort of tour down memory lane. Unfortunately, I seem to remember the blogging period of my life in terms of past crushes and the recuperation periods after them. It didn't feel too good. I toyed with the idea of making a calendar to put out the stuff I was refeeling, but decided that it wasn't really worth it, especially as many of these past crushes are unaware of their prior status (at least I very much hope so), and should one of them come across said calendar, things might get awkward. So, I'm peeved that I had to waste over an hour of my evening cleaning up after some scumbag who decided to defile my site, and that I had to drag myself through painful histories to do so.

Tunes: "Superman", Five For Fighting; "Good Lives", Eve 6.

It never really occured to me that I'd post something with "America" in the title that wouldn't end up being sarcastic or critical. But I really enjoyed this movie. Yes, it probably helped that I only had to pay three dollars for a ticket, but I feel that "In America" truly lives up o my expectations for a great artsy film. The movie is about an Irish immigrant family trying to make their way in Manhattan, adapt to a new culture, and move on from the past. The older daughter character is played by Sarah Bolger, who can probably build a solid career on this movie alone. She's got the talent, she's got the looks, and she's got a wonderful singing voice (in the movie she does a gorgeous rendition of "Desperado", which I find better than the original, but then I'm not a big Eagles person either). In short, see this movie.

I've been hearing a lot about the Atkins diet recently, and the whole deal seems overly complicated to me. I say, if you really want to lose weight, try the British School Diet*, which involves flying to England and living off of boarding school cafeteria food. I personally guarantee that if you don't die of malnutrition or radiation exposure, the pounds will fall right off!

*Universities such as Oxford and Cambridge don't count. Sorry.

The clock is ticking-- I just registered to take the SAT I this March and SAT IIs in June. I'm cracking the books and saying my prayers.

(It's gonna be all about ME then, Heather. ~_^)

Tunes: "Wherever You Will Go", The Calling; "No Cigar", Millencolin; "Lovefool", The Cardigans; "Here's To Love", Ewan McGregor and Renee Zellweiger.

Today (or yesterday, at this point) was a really really good day. I auditioned for a band down in Chicago, and everything went extremely well. The guys are great, the music is just what I'm looking for, and all in all everything just sorta clicked. And they want me! So, keep checking back, and within a few weeks I'll probably be posting links to sample tracks for your enjoyment. So, thanks, Tom, Reggie, and Daisuke, you guys rock!

Today I let my parents down on a number of various counts, and I feel really bad about it.

I'm sorry that I'm not that reliable.
I'm sorry that I screwed up your plans.
I'm sorry that I'm behaving so selfishly.
I'm sorry that you can't tell when I really understand what you're saying.
I'm sorry that I can't offer assurances that it won't happen again.

I'm sorry.

Rob coughed, emitting a thin spray of spit and blood. "Yeah, you like that, don't you?" One of the men standing over him laughed raucously. "You shouldn't have MESSED--" A boot kicked out and caught him in the gut. "--with us. Should've let things be." Rob rolled over, trying to breathe through the bittersweet red that streamed slowly across his face. He blinked through the dark, and saw... nothing. An empty alleyway. He slowly pulled himself to his feet, and, leaning heavily against the wall, staggered over into Tommy's Pub. The waitress standing just inside the door looked strangely familiar as she watched in mild shock as he tumbled through the door. "Oh my god, are you ok?" She helped him over to an empty table. He managed to mumble, "Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. Can I just have some napkins and ice?" "Yeah, of course!" She hurries over to the bar, talks to the barkeep, and comes back with a stack of napkins and a glass full of ice. "Thanks." She moves back to her post by the door, glancing back worriedly. He unfolds a napkin, pours out a pile of ice onto it, wraps up the corners and holds it against his face. It stings. A couple of tables down, a guy with a guitar and a heavy Gaelic accent starts singing softly. Once the glass has been emptied and the stack of napkins exhausted, Rob looks mostly presentable and the pain is somewhat numbed, so he gets up to leave. As he heads for the door, he looks at the waitress again and there's a tug on his memory. He stops, turns from the door, and heads straight for her. "Look, this is going to sound really stupid, and I'm sorry, but what's your name? 'Cause I'm sure I know you from somewhere." She looks into his face for a moment or two. "Your name's Rob, isn't it?" Rob smiles. "Yeah." She gives a lopsided grin. "I was at St. John's." He snaps his fingers. "I knew it! And you're... I want to say Erica..." "Brekke. Erica and I were inseperable back then, everyone got us confused." Rob blinked a couple of times and rubbed his tender nose before inching his way back towards the door. "Right. Wow. Well hey, it's good to see you again." Brekke nodded. "Yeah, definitely. Take care of yourself." "Yeah." He pushed his way through the glass doors and took a breath of the cold winter air. What a crazy night.

A shrill, hysterical scream cuts across the air, but no change came across the only person in earshot, a man old far beyond his years, his face drawn and hollow, his hair thinning, his wiry muscles bulging from under his sickly slender frame. He staggers along the icy path, hugging himself as some vain protection from the biting cold that attacks every inch of exposed flesh. The scream that echoes in his wake is not startling to him, only a final haunting reminder of the terror and mistrust that he has left behind. How can anyone live, looking at the faces around them and not knowing who will be the next to plunge a knife into an unsuspecting neighbor's back? This man could not, and, breaking ties with those he had lived with for years upon years, walked right through the village and down the road Westbound. The road he walks is narrow, uneven, and slick, and he can only move slowly. Concentrating as he is on keeping himself warm, he fails to see a patch of ice, and slips, falling into a drift of snow. The harsh wet cold surrounds him, and he spasms involuntarily. He tries to pull himself up, but the chill saps his strength, and he falls back down. He hold up his hands, tensed into claws, in front of his face, and there is already ice in small patches bonded to his fingers. Tears begin to drip from his eyes, and freeze before they reach the ground.

He lies there still, arms sticking up in the air, hands still clutching the empty air, body locked in death, a solemn reminder that there are still dangers to taking the paths you feel you are called to walk.

I'm in MacAddict!!! If you flip to the LogOut section in your Feb '04 issue, you'll see that Michael Feldman of Dowbrigade sent in a BloggerCon photo to show the prevalency of Apple-age at that fine convention, and I'm in the top left corner! ^_^

I had a quick talk today with a very old friend (and ex-girlfriend), whom I haven't talked to in a very long time. It reminded me how refreshing it is to keep in touch with people you care about but don't see often, if at all. There are many people whose lives we touch, and it's very comforting to come back and touch them again, basking in the warmth of the tactile connection between two people.

Tunes: "Nightswimming", R.E.M.

A bedraggled man, driven to the point of exhaustion, clothes torn, hair tangled and knotted, falling on his knees before an altar and weeping, crying out between sobs, "Eloi, eloi, lama sabachthani?!?" He stares up at the face behind the altar, and sees someone or something he does not expect. Shocked out of his crying, he rises to his feet, turns and stumbles off, wandering aimlessly in a stuporous daze.

This Christmas has been kind of wierd for me. Christmas is a new beginning, a fresh start for the new year, but it's also a significant end. As the song goes, "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end", but that doesn't mean it's not still painful. It's been interesting, coming to grips with the endings while rejoicing in the beginnings, and I'm feeling it more now than ever before. But, it's time for me to concentrate on happy things, as tonight I get to go see some local boys I've been trying to see for two-odd years now. ^_^ Merry Christmas to all of you, and I will leave with words of wisdom: "Fate is just what you call it when you don't know the name of the person screwing you over".

Tunes: "The First Noel (I Like Christmas)", Eve 6; "Christmas Is The Time To Say I Love You", SR-71; "Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)", The Ramones; "I Won't Be Home For Christmas", Blink-182.

We salute you! A friend pointed me to the site of someone who has way too much time on his hands. It takes true geekdom to write a witty crossover between the Buffy The Vampire Slayer musical, Once More With Feeling, and the classic tome, Fellowship Of The Ring. w00t.

I don't really approve of myself when I use only song lyrics for a blog post, it feels like a kind of cheap cop-out. Well, maybe it is this time, but that song really does click with how I've felt lately, and besides, I'm kind of written out from a short that I'm working on. So there.

P.S. Many kudos to my old friend Faon, who just got accepted to Harvard! ^_^

This is my December this is my time of the year
This is my December this is all so clear
This is my December this is my snow covered home
This is my December this is me alone

And I
Just wish that I didn't feel like there was something I missed
And I
Take back all the things I said to make you feel like that
And I
Just wish that I didn't feel like there was something I missed
And I
Take back all the things I said to you

And I give it all away
Just to have somewhere to go to
Give it all away
To have someone to come home to

This is my December these are my snow covered dreams
This is me pretending this is all I need

And I
Just wish that I didn't feel like there was something I missed
And I
Take back all the things I said to make you feel like that
And I
Just wish that I didn't feel like there was something I missed
And I
Take back all the things I said to you

And I give it all away
Just to have somewhere to go to
Give it all away
To have someone to come home to

This is my December this is my time of the year
This is my December this is all so clear

And I give it all away
Just to have somewhere to go to
Give it all away
To have someone to come home to

And I give it all away
Just to have somewhere to go to
Give it all away
To have someone to come home to

"My December", Linkin Park.

I was one of the crazies who went to see Return of the King at one minute past midnight last night/this morning. I was so crazy, I came to wait in line four hours before start time. So, with a friend and two complete strangers, I whiled away the hours with poker, hearts, and speed, until our other friends showed up. Once they let us in, and we landed the best seats in the house. Now, I'm not going to say anything specific about the movie, but I there was one thing that peeved me mightily, a discrepancy between the movie and the book, that left my hands itching for Peter Jackson's neck. Aside from that one flaw, however, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Enjoyed it enough, anywy, to see it again this afternoon,and again Friday. ^_^

"Life. Don't talk to me about life." Marvin's disgusted statement in The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy sums up pretty well how I've felt lately. There've been good things going on, balanced by an oppresive blanket of disappointment and frustration. I'll have some fun experiences, and then slump back down to a depressed low, then relax and meditate (there's a really good mp3 of a guided meditation on forgiveness on Noah Levine's Dharma Punx site) so that I feel good before bed, and the cycle continues. Ah well. I'm trying to live in the now, and right now it's snowing, and it looks just plain gorgeous.

Tunes: "Boxing", Ben Folds Five; "Luka", Suzanne Vega; "Demons", Fatboy Slim

Just feeling down today. The weather is probably a factor (grey and half-rainy, lots of fog), plus I'm also facing debris in my life that I'd put on hold last week. Bleh.

Finally, one of the longest weeks of my life is over. This past week was tech week for my production of You Can't Take It With You, and I've been working my behind off. Opening night was Friday, closing night was Saturday. I can't thank enough the people who came to see me, and especially my fellow cast members and crew. It was "Hell and bliss and all that soars between it", to misquote a favorite song. And so today, far from being a day of rest, was spent at church, singing for morning eucharist and evening lessons and carols services. Needless to say, a full day at church is exhausting, physically and emotionally, and I'm just as happy to be curling up in bed with my script for our next performance, The Crucible.

Tunes: "Down Under", Men At Work; "Kiss Me, I'm ****faced", Dropkick Murphys; "So Long", Undefined. (These guys are really great, check them out! ^_^)

I was sitting in my room reading What Nietzsche Really Said, and I got to the part where it talked about Nietzsche's connection with Hitler (or lack thereof). It got me thinking: it's generally accepted that Hitler went to hell. Especially in entertainment media, Hitler is a fixture in hell. In Little Nicky, Hitler is portrayed as the Devil's favorite sadistic plaything. And it probably gives a sense of security, that the Bad Guys go to hell and the Good Guys go to heaven. But it's just not that simple. Didn't Jesus take on the sins of humanity so that we wouldn't HAVE to endure hell? Hitler conceived of himself as a Christian, and indeed thought that what he did was right in God's eyes, as he says in Mein Kampf: "Hence today I am acting in accordance with the will of the Almighty Creator: by defending myself against the Jew, I am fighting for the Lord." As such, wouldn't one expect him, at the Judgment, to atone for his sins, to beg for forgiveness, and to accept Christ as the Way, the Truth, and the Light? Hitler didn't bring about the Holocaust because he thought "Hey, what's the most evil thing I can do?", he thought he was doing the right thing, and he did it well. He was a brilliant man. Horrifically misguided, but brilliant. But the winners write the history books, and since the Allies won WWII (inasmuch anyone can be said to have won), Hitler was condemned in the public eye to the worst possible scenario (granted that he was already dead), which, in the predominantly Christian American and British eye, was hell. Eternal torment for one fairly directly responsible for several million people's deaths and torture. Sounds like a fair deal, right? Well, maybe, apart from two key points: one, we are not the ones to make that decision, and two, God's forgiveness is available to ALL who seek it, including those with bad P.R. Just as we can be forgiven for our own (somewhat smaller-scale, I hope) sins and offenses, so can Hitler and others who have committed various atrocities, if they and we simply ask.

I haven't seen anyone since I came here. I'm not sure how long it's been, there's no way to tell the time. The lights in my cell go out every 16 hours or so, or at least that's how it feels. Again, I'm not sure. The cell is pretty empty. There's a bunk in the corner, and my papers across the floor. There's a dor in the opposite corner without a handle, only a small window and a slot where I get my food, paper, and graphite for my mechanical pencil. The slot opens and another ream of paper gets sent through. I 've stopped checking to see if someone's there. There never is. I don't know how they know what I need and when, they probably have a camera in here or something, but I haven't found it. I've tried watching for whoever comes to deliver my things, but they never come until I look away. So through all this, I sit and write. It's not such a bad life, really, and mabe someday I'll return to the outside world, but until I sit and write. Just sit and write.

Tunes: "Kiss Me, Diss Me", Home Grown; "Remote Control", Beastie Boys; "Lay It Down", Aerosmith; "Red Rain", Peter Gabriel.

Sorry about my absence, Ive been switching hosts, got mixed up in the process, and screwed up my MT config for a week or so. But I'm back, and regular prgramming will resume immdiately.

Hearken to the voices calling, beckoning you, let them lead.
Follow till you find your passion, feel the true joy, be awake.
Let the world come rushing to you, at it's own pace, let it come.
Existence is the way it is, you can't change it, c'est la vie.

Tunes: "There's Always Someone Cooler Than You", Ben Folds; "Older", They Might Be Giants; "I'm Not Down", The Clash

Well, I just wrote a nice long bit of fiction, and it got deleted. Grrrrr. I told myself before always to write posts in a word processor first. Anyway, a while ago I wrote this as a part of some emotions that needed venting at the time: "I only hope I can pull my plane through this hurricane of confusion and mixed emotions and coast through clear skies, enjoying the peace and tranquility of having made it after all." Well, I'm through, and, though I'm not where I'd hoped I'd end up, I can't really complain either. I am indeed tranquil for the most part, and as for peaceful, I'm about as close as I get. Life is good, for the moment. "'Cause that's really all that life is, Sister. It's a series of moments. Why don't you seize yours." -Loki, Dogma

Tunes: "Bad Day", R.E.M.; "Matt's Diner", Green Means Go.

I spent a couple hours this evening simmering in a jealous ire (a long story primarily about punk rock elitism). So, I vented at some friends, then at my parents when they came home. Mom and Dad told me to have a snack, walk the dog, get some fresh air, and just generally get a change of pace. I did, and soon felt much better. While I was snacking as per my orders, I was idly leafing through my library copy of Lao-Tzu, and found a quote that humbled me deeply. Another lesson learned, another day well spent I suppose.

"Of crimes--none is greater than having things one desires;
Of disasters--none is greater than not knowing when one has enough.
Of defects--none brings more sorrow than the desire to attain.
Therefore, the contentment one has when he knows that he has enough, is abiding contentment indeed."

The house creaks, shifting its weight as evening settles over my home. I slip out the back door as quietly as I can, trying not to wake up the dog. It's chilly outside; I can see my breath hanging in the air for a moment before it evanesces into the stark fall night. Looking south, I can see the pale warm glow of the city. The light is both a blessing and a curse: It's never totally dark, giving the illusion of warmth, yet because of it, one can never see the starlight wavering down from above. After a while, I notice that my feet are getting numb, so I shuffle back inside to reflect on all the implications of my late night observances.

Tunes: "Stakeout", Freezepop (scroll down); "The Apartment Song", Tom Petty; "Boys Don't Cry", The Cure; "What These Bitches Want From A Nigga", DMX.

So, Halloween weekend went well, had an all-nighter party at church, all fun, but the scariest part of the weekend came afterwards. It was Saturday, and after I'd gotten a few hours' rest, I went with my father and sister to run some errands. At the library, I checked out the Te-Tao Ching, The Tao of Pooh, and a DVD set that would eventually prove my undoing. That evening, I put in the first disc and sealed my fate. The DVD in question was the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Now, 24 hours and 12 episodes later, I can look back and say that I'm bitten (stupid pun intended). Add one more to the body count, Buffy has another victim in me (although, quite frankly, Willow has it all over Buffy, but that's a different rant).

Someone I love dearly is leaving me, and I'm not reacting the way I expected. There's still a vacancy deep inside, but instead of void replacing the firm cement of his presence, there's drywall. Not terribly sturdy, but there's structure nonetheless, and honestly, this is the way it should be. He reached out to me and gave me security, gave me a home, when I needed it most. I wouldn't feel right if I couldn't do the same for others, those here already and those to come. He gave me permanence, and Ineed to pass that along. So I sit, listen repetitively to some music, and try and brace myself for the times to come.

Ok, well maybe not, but I can play five songs that I learned by ear relatively well, and I feel proud. In chronological order, they are: "Brain Stew" and "When I Come Around" by Green Day, "I Love Rock and Roll" by Joan Jett, "Inside Out" by Eve 6, and "Get Over It" by OK Go. I'm learnin' how to play this here gui-tar REAL good, without selling my soul to the devil. And while I'm thinking about it, here's something funny that's somewhat related.