I was so proud of myself for spawning something I believed to be wholly unique within my realm of understanding when I decided to write movie reviews in the form of Japanese haiku. Well, another aspiring TV writer has done the same thing. I like hers better:
Amanda, the Aspiring TV Writer
And, just to make it clear, this has not deterred me from moving forward with future haiku poetry. Trust me, it's too much fun to give up now.
cheers.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
I Want To Go To There...
It's about 1:15 in the morning. I just sat through an entire episode of Leno (I know), along with the most recent episode of Ace of Cakes. I wasn't super tired, so I hopped on my white stallion, and moseyed on over to my own blog(?). Jenna Fischer was on Leno, which is why I watched it (my crush on her isn't quite up to Level Tina, but it's close). Ace of Cakes is my newest reality addiction, because it's all about cakes, and I love cake, and so, well, yeah... If my reasons for liking it aren't clear after that, then you're just too retarded to even get my explaining it.
But, I'm getting tired. Part of the reason to write this nonsensical post was to create some fatigue so that I don't lie awake thinking about my stupid 30 Rock spec that I can't get through, or the ten billion other ideas I can't write, or whether Obama's daughters are allowed into the Lincoln Bedroom for slumber parties...
I'm now more tired than I was. Slowly, I'll get there. Hopefully not to the point where I'm asleep on my keyboard, typing out the letters J K and L over and over again... That would be silly, and uncomfortable.
Does anyone read this blog? I guess that's a worthy question to ask at 1:22 am. Will anyone read this? I know about three people who will most certainly read this, and that's cool, but not... Any suggestions on how to make this blog more accessible to outsiders would be nice. Esoteric is fun, you know, while riding the tram to The Getty, or when you're in a parked car outside Diane Keaton's manse, but on a blog, it becomes like an e-Party that no one got an e-Vite to...
So, in conclusion, as I become dangerously close to tipping over sideways, keep up the good work. This is simply a very broad announcement to all of those people doing good work out there. They know who they are, and they should also be reminded to walk proudly. I don't know. Should I just stop? This is getting stupid, I'm sure. Like, why the freak isn't he writing about a movie or something. Do you really want that? I can write about tons of movies, and I can wax philosophic and theoretical, and drop names like Baudry and Daniel Dayan, but why? No one cares. No one reads this blog, and I'm pretty sure those who read this blog and know what the freak I'm talking about, theory-wise, would much prefer to never speak of such things again, am I right?!?
So, in conclusion, there is no conclusion, other than me, asleep, and you, going about your day as if nothing happened here. Well, something did happen, and whether you like it or not, it's gonna keep happening. So, bring your friends, some cold ones, and a story or two, and maybe we'll have a bonfire of good ideas.
cheers, mates.
But, I'm getting tired. Part of the reason to write this nonsensical post was to create some fatigue so that I don't lie awake thinking about my stupid 30 Rock spec that I can't get through, or the ten billion other ideas I can't write, or whether Obama's daughters are allowed into the Lincoln Bedroom for slumber parties...
I'm now more tired than I was. Slowly, I'll get there. Hopefully not to the point where I'm asleep on my keyboard, typing out the letters J K and L over and over again... That would be silly, and uncomfortable.
Does anyone read this blog? I guess that's a worthy question to ask at 1:22 am. Will anyone read this? I know about three people who will most certainly read this, and that's cool, but not... Any suggestions on how to make this blog more accessible to outsiders would be nice. Esoteric is fun, you know, while riding the tram to The Getty, or when you're in a parked car outside Diane Keaton's manse, but on a blog, it becomes like an e-Party that no one got an e-Vite to...
So, in conclusion, as I become dangerously close to tipping over sideways, keep up the good work. This is simply a very broad announcement to all of those people doing good work out there. They know who they are, and they should also be reminded to walk proudly. I don't know. Should I just stop? This is getting stupid, I'm sure. Like, why the freak isn't he writing about a movie or something. Do you really want that? I can write about tons of movies, and I can wax philosophic and theoretical, and drop names like Baudry and Daniel Dayan, but why? No one cares. No one reads this blog, and I'm pretty sure those who read this blog and know what the freak I'm talking about, theory-wise, would much prefer to never speak of such things again, am I right?!?
So, in conclusion, there is no conclusion, other than me, asleep, and you, going about your day as if nothing happened here. Well, something did happen, and whether you like it or not, it's gonna keep happening. So, bring your friends, some cold ones, and a story or two, and maybe we'll have a bonfire of good ideas.
cheers, mates.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Belinda Carlisle Does Not Have A Friend In Dorothy
C - Rochelle the Ellenburg, for keepin' it hot, keepin' it poppin', and keepin' it real throughout all regions of the Left Coast. Peace in the Middle East!
L - Arianna Huffington's apartment, where she is, in fact, rather dull.
O - Barack Obama's BlackBerry - Does he have ScarJo's number?
S - Fighting desperately for creative air as I try to expand my oeuvre and write for a change...
A - Watching a hat get stolen...
T - It ain't easy being white, it ain't easy bein' brown...
This is my 100th post. It's not much, but I'm sure it'll do for the time being. No celebration, no countdown lists... No, I'm much more of a non-traditionalist. There are several reasons why, but mostly it's because I'm sure you don't care. Pat me on the back, sure, congratulate me on continuing to whither away in the Blog-O-Sphere, if you want, but at the end of the day, you'll fall asleep soundly, not even once remembering the fond day you had a this blog, celebrating my 100th Noniversary. Trust me, it's better off this way...
Saw Juno again. I big "Hrrmmm" came out of my mouth while I watched and as I pondered it's realms of complexity. I've decided that the film's backlash is only half-deserved. Juno is a character most adults should despise. She's arrogant, self-obsessed, and exactly like we were at 16. Her hipster speak is a sad attempt at adult-talk, and it comes off as phony and forced. She lives in a musical era when she was not even a glimmer in her parents eyes, and boldly declares anything from her own time period as unbearable. Her connection with Mark isn't unlike Leah (her friends) connection with Keith, the geometry teacher: a sad attempt to age faster than we should. Basically, the point of Juno, for me now, is the notion that forcing adulthood is unbecoming. Stay a child for as long as you can get away with it. It suggests that the greatest type of immaturity is the immaturity derived from feigned maturity. An interesting character foil for Juno is Mark... Mark and Juno share a lot in common, as they both seek the same point of time in their respective time-lines, only from opposite directions. It's why it's so critical that it be Mark who bursts Juno's bubble of fun. Mark even says "I thought we wanted the same things" - Juno doesn't want the same things; she only believes that she does. Most teenager want to be adults. When you're 15, you want to be 16, so you can drive, or date or stay out later. At 16, we want to be 17 so we can see R-rated movies. At 17, we want to be 18, so we can finally declare our freedom from our teenage years. It doesn't stop. Not until we hit 21. That's when our adolescence officially ends its term in office, and we're finally able to pretty much do whatever we want. But what do we have to look forward to? Graduate school? Adulthood is alive and well, and all we want is to be a kid again. So why rush it? And that's the point of Juno. Here we have a kid, convinced of her own superiority, who is taken down a peg, and told to be a kid for 5 more years. That's all. It's not about pregnancy, or kitschy catch-phrases, or even love. It's about youth, and the dangers of getting a taste of adulthood much sooner than needed. This isn't an "End of the Innocence" film. In fact, it's a bold declaration that while innocence may be lost, it doesn't mean it can't be reborn. Juno undoubtedly grows, but this change doesn't cause her to be responsible, like taking on a secretarial position at some legal eagle office in order to save up for college. No, Juno decides to spend her summer jamming with Paulie Bleeker. Is that irresponsible? Yeah, I would say so, and I think most adults would agree, but that's no reason to hate on her. Let her be a kid for pity's sake. Let her guitar be her guide. Is it so wrong to have a film's final lesson be - "Well, adulthood sucks, so take a back seat and enjoy the ride until you actually have to drive" - I don't think it is. Different strokes for different folks...
Those are just my observations. I took a leave of absence in regards to any future viewings of this film a year ago, hence my return to discussing it. It's Oscar season again, and I've seen many folks bringing this film up, for whatever reason, mostly to throw stones in it's direction. That's fair, as jealously often bears an ugly mug, but I can't help but love this film. It's deeply flawed, but for a first time effort from a young screenwriter, it's beautifully adept at saying something most people, I don't think, didn't even want to see. Did Diablo deserve the Oscar? I dunno. I don't even remember what else was nominated, to be honest. Does it matter, you know, in the long run? The Grand Scheme of Things? --- Not a chance...
Finally, I am in awe of the folks at 30 Rock. No joke, these ladies and fezellas can really knock one out of the park on almost every pitch. I would say it's not fair, and wonder why such talent cannot be FedEx'd my way every third Sunday, but I have to remind myself: At least I get to watch it. Will I ever be able to write comedy like that? I sure hope so, but I think the 13 year long wait may prove difficult...
Cheers, my loves...
L - Arianna Huffington's apartment, where she is, in fact, rather dull.
O - Barack Obama's BlackBerry - Does he have ScarJo's number?
S - Fighting desperately for creative air as I try to expand my oeuvre and write for a change...
A - Watching a hat get stolen...
T - It ain't easy being white, it ain't easy bein' brown...
This is my 100th post. It's not much, but I'm sure it'll do for the time being. No celebration, no countdown lists... No, I'm much more of a non-traditionalist. There are several reasons why, but mostly it's because I'm sure you don't care. Pat me on the back, sure, congratulate me on continuing to whither away in the Blog-O-Sphere, if you want, but at the end of the day, you'll fall asleep soundly, not even once remembering the fond day you had a this blog, celebrating my 100th Noniversary. Trust me, it's better off this way...
Saw Juno again. I big "Hrrmmm" came out of my mouth while I watched and as I pondered it's realms of complexity. I've decided that the film's backlash is only half-deserved. Juno is a character most adults should despise. She's arrogant, self-obsessed, and exactly like we were at 16. Her hipster speak is a sad attempt at adult-talk, and it comes off as phony and forced. She lives in a musical era when she was not even a glimmer in her parents eyes, and boldly declares anything from her own time period as unbearable. Her connection with Mark isn't unlike Leah (her friends) connection with Keith, the geometry teacher: a sad attempt to age faster than we should. Basically, the point of Juno, for me now, is the notion that forcing adulthood is unbecoming. Stay a child for as long as you can get away with it. It suggests that the greatest type of immaturity is the immaturity derived from feigned maturity. An interesting character foil for Juno is Mark... Mark and Juno share a lot in common, as they both seek the same point of time in their respective time-lines, only from opposite directions. It's why it's so critical that it be Mark who bursts Juno's bubble of fun. Mark even says "I thought we wanted the same things" - Juno doesn't want the same things; she only believes that she does. Most teenager want to be adults. When you're 15, you want to be 16, so you can drive, or date or stay out later. At 16, we want to be 17 so we can see R-rated movies. At 17, we want to be 18, so we can finally declare our freedom from our teenage years. It doesn't stop. Not until we hit 21. That's when our adolescence officially ends its term in office, and we're finally able to pretty much do whatever we want. But what do we have to look forward to? Graduate school? Adulthood is alive and well, and all we want is to be a kid again. So why rush it? And that's the point of Juno. Here we have a kid, convinced of her own superiority, who is taken down a peg, and told to be a kid for 5 more years. That's all. It's not about pregnancy, or kitschy catch-phrases, or even love. It's about youth, and the dangers of getting a taste of adulthood much sooner than needed. This isn't an "End of the Innocence" film. In fact, it's a bold declaration that while innocence may be lost, it doesn't mean it can't be reborn. Juno undoubtedly grows, but this change doesn't cause her to be responsible, like taking on a secretarial position at some legal eagle office in order to save up for college. No, Juno decides to spend her summer jamming with Paulie Bleeker. Is that irresponsible? Yeah, I would say so, and I think most adults would agree, but that's no reason to hate on her. Let her be a kid for pity's sake. Let her guitar be her guide. Is it so wrong to have a film's final lesson be - "Well, adulthood sucks, so take a back seat and enjoy the ride until you actually have to drive" - I don't think it is. Different strokes for different folks...
Those are just my observations. I took a leave of absence in regards to any future viewings of this film a year ago, hence my return to discussing it. It's Oscar season again, and I've seen many folks bringing this film up, for whatever reason, mostly to throw stones in it's direction. That's fair, as jealously often bears an ugly mug, but I can't help but love this film. It's deeply flawed, but for a first time effort from a young screenwriter, it's beautifully adept at saying something most people, I don't think, didn't even want to see. Did Diablo deserve the Oscar? I dunno. I don't even remember what else was nominated, to be honest. Does it matter, you know, in the long run? The Grand Scheme of Things? --- Not a chance...
Finally, I am in awe of the folks at 30 Rock. No joke, these ladies and fezellas can really knock one out of the park on almost every pitch. I would say it's not fair, and wonder why such talent cannot be FedEx'd my way every third Sunday, but I have to remind myself: At least I get to watch it. Will I ever be able to write comedy like that? I sure hope so, but I think the 13 year long wait may prove difficult...
Cheers, my loves...
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Mr. Manager
Am I the only one who thinks Michael Cera has let "things" go to his head? While I'm sure he's mostly joking, part of me thinks he's deadly serious. Hypothetical, yes, in the sense that nothing's concrete, but when you have a development deal in place, the writer/director working on the script, and all the cast but one committed to returning, I'd hardly call that "hypothetical." Yeah, it won't happen tomorrow, but surely by the end of this year.
Sorry, George Michael, but you're coming off as kind of a d-bag. Quit tokin' it up with Judd Apatow and Seth Rogan and remember where you came from.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Traveling Sisterhood of the Pants
C - Carrie Hakes. I don't think I've featured her yet here, but she's one of my most favorite people. And her alter ego, The Bear, has to be one of the best things on this planet, I kid you not. Miss you, Bear...
L - A desolate Earth, ravaged by nuclear war, full of CYLON skeletons?!? Say wha?!
O - Mad Men on Blu-ray. Now the best show on TV is in HD. Boo ya...
S - Watching, and rewatching (on a loop, mind you) the genius that is Episode 210 from 30 Rock... Keep an eye on Tracy Morgan during the episode's climactic musical number... A-mazing...
A - Pole dancing on the tram to The Getty.
T - When life hands you lemons, throw 'em out and find an edible fruit...
I officially have a new Favorite Thing (along with sweater capes, naturally): my week-old nephew, Casen. He's finally home from the NICU, and he's as sleepy as ever, which makes him slightly boring, but strangely fascinating. He hasn't quite figured his body out, so he maneuvers awkwardly, hands everywhere (including his signature "Push up my gigantic cheeks" move. Killer), and he does this all whilst sleeping rather soundly. It's even entertaining to see him make his "Yep, I'm pooping" face. I even find his cry entertaining; he quivers his bottom lip when he gets really into, which is both sad, and rather awesome. Thankfully, his cry is about as cute as they come, never getting louder than average adult conversation volume, so it's not much of a bother. Overall, I give him two thumbs up; one thumbs up for utter adorable-ness (an important attribute for a one-week old, a breed most often plagued by under-developed features, and a penchant for the mundane), and the other thumb for compatibility with me, his soon to be most spoilish of uncles. He doesn't pitch a fit when I hold him. Instead he sighs and whimpers, and then proceeds to poo on me pants (true story). The funny thing is, I didn't change my pants after it happened... *sigh*.... It must be love.
In other news, I put immense strain on my groin muscles whilst trying to engage my flabby doughboy exterior in some intense rigeur. I can barely stand, let alone put my pants on ('twas quite the treat this morning...) So, for the next couple of days, I'll probably walk like an 80 year old man with bad knees and a replaced hip, all in the name of chiseled abs and winning biceps.
I'm getting into my writing. I have three major projects I'm currently engaged in, and all of them excite me terribly. I received this wonderful writing guide from Eric A., a Blog-O-Friend, and it's worked wonders for my lazy tendencies, helping me to jump the hump, as they say, and get into it, and by it, I mean imagining my movies in my head. I'd say that's the biggest hurdle writer's have to escape: we have movies, books, plays, etc. playing in our head almost all the time, and they're wonderful, as they are usually the ideal versions of our own ideas. But, we're selfish creatures, so we horde them for ourselves until we funnel them through our laptops, hoping they come out looking at least a fifth like our Ideal. But, this is where writer's block sets in-- the moment we realize it was better left in our brains... It's a humbling experience to see your half-assed (sorry, but there's no other word for it...) idea coming to pathetic life in your Final Draft document, knowing darn well that this draft you're sweating over will never see the light of day, nor should it. It's maddening, and you have to be completely mental to want to do this for a living. Awesome, but still mental...
So, now that I've insulted both myself and my friends, I bid you adieu for the time being. 24 is paused right now on my TiVo, and it's time I took a look-see at this new season. Apparently it's supposed to be good, but I have yet to see that come to fruition... But, holy cow was Battlestar good last night. Yowza...
L - A desolate Earth, ravaged by nuclear war, full of CYLON skeletons?!? Say wha?!
O - Mad Men on Blu-ray. Now the best show on TV is in HD. Boo ya...
S - Watching, and rewatching (on a loop, mind you) the genius that is Episode 210 from 30 Rock... Keep an eye on Tracy Morgan during the episode's climactic musical number... A-mazing...
A - Pole dancing on the tram to The Getty.
T - When life hands you lemons, throw 'em out and find an edible fruit...
I officially have a new Favorite Thing (along with sweater capes, naturally): my week-old nephew, Casen. He's finally home from the NICU, and he's as sleepy as ever, which makes him slightly boring, but strangely fascinating. He hasn't quite figured his body out, so he maneuvers awkwardly, hands everywhere (including his signature "Push up my gigantic cheeks" move. Killer), and he does this all whilst sleeping rather soundly. It's even entertaining to see him make his "Yep, I'm pooping" face. I even find his cry entertaining; he quivers his bottom lip when he gets really into, which is both sad, and rather awesome. Thankfully, his cry is about as cute as they come, never getting louder than average adult conversation volume, so it's not much of a bother. Overall, I give him two thumbs up; one thumbs up for utter adorable-ness (an important attribute for a one-week old, a breed most often plagued by under-developed features, and a penchant for the mundane), and the other thumb for compatibility with me, his soon to be most spoilish of uncles. He doesn't pitch a fit when I hold him. Instead he sighs and whimpers, and then proceeds to poo on me pants (true story). The funny thing is, I didn't change my pants after it happened... *sigh*.... It must be love.
In other news, I put immense strain on my groin muscles whilst trying to engage my flabby doughboy exterior in some intense rigeur. I can barely stand, let alone put my pants on ('twas quite the treat this morning...) So, for the next couple of days, I'll probably walk like an 80 year old man with bad knees and a replaced hip, all in the name of chiseled abs and winning biceps.
I'm getting into my writing. I have three major projects I'm currently engaged in, and all of them excite me terribly. I received this wonderful writing guide from Eric A., a Blog-O-Friend, and it's worked wonders for my lazy tendencies, helping me to jump the hump, as they say, and get into it, and by it, I mean imagining my movies in my head. I'd say that's the biggest hurdle writer's have to escape: we have movies, books, plays, etc. playing in our head almost all the time, and they're wonderful, as they are usually the ideal versions of our own ideas. But, we're selfish creatures, so we horde them for ourselves until we funnel them through our laptops, hoping they come out looking at least a fifth like our Ideal. But, this is where writer's block sets in-- the moment we realize it was better left in our brains... It's a humbling experience to see your half-assed (sorry, but there's no other word for it...) idea coming to pathetic life in your Final Draft document, knowing darn well that this draft you're sweating over will never see the light of day, nor should it. It's maddening, and you have to be completely mental to want to do this for a living. Awesome, but still mental...
So, now that I've insulted both myself and my friends, I bid you adieu for the time being. 24 is paused right now on my TiVo, and it's time I took a look-see at this new season. Apparently it's supposed to be good, but I have yet to see that come to fruition... But, holy cow was Battlestar good last night. Yowza...
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Movies I Liked That You Might Like Too, Vol 1
Man On Wire -
Frenchman on wire
World Trade Center towers
Compelling AND true.
Frost/Nixon -
Watergate Scandal
Nixon on "trial" with Frost
Great performances.
The Wrestler -
Old wrestler loses
He's too sick to wrestle now
Beautiful story.
La gloire de mon père (My Father's Glory) -
Childhood antics
Beautiful southern France
Humor? Pathos? Yes.
Frenchman on wire
World Trade Center towers
Compelling AND true.
Frost/Nixon -
Watergate Scandal
Nixon on "trial" with Frost
Great performances.
The Wrestler -
Old wrestler loses
He's too sick to wrestle now
Beautiful story.
La gloire de mon père (My Father's Glory) -
Childhood antics
Beautiful southern France
Humor? Pathos? Yes.
Toss Toss, No Hands
Here's the Wordle for this blog.
Ain't it grand? Make your own at www.wordle.net, which is where I got this photo...
Ain't it grand? Make your own at www.wordle.net, which is where I got this photo...
Corky and the Sperm Whale
C - Casen James Rogers, the brand-spankin' newest member of our family...
L - The curb outside Diane Keaton's house... We all know what happened next...
O - A check for A MILLION DOLLARS!
S - Auditioning for Pepperdine Law School by wowing the admissions folks with one's rendition of "Defying Gravity" from Broadway's Wicked
A - Pretending to write that check for A MILLION DOLLARS!
T - It's important to always be easy. Easy like Sunday morning. *
Hey folks, blog-o-friends and strangers alike. It's been quite a journey since we last shared company on this blog, and since so much has happened, I feel it best to disperse the awesome over a couple of entries.
First off, I got to spend all of last week in Thousand Oaks, with amigos galore, doing Wicked awesome things, and exploring the sights and sounds of UCLA, Loyola Law School, Pepperdine and Western State Law School, among other things (right Corky!?!?!?!?). It was truly a wonderful vay-cay, as TAMN would put it. But before I gush further, I need to really stop and thank the Fudges (all of them, feti included), for their thoughtful hospitality. Secondly, but not really secondly because it means that much to me, I want to thank all of those who put up with my man stank on all of those car rides around L.A.. I was privileged enough to be surrounded by beautiful and well-groomed young ladies, so I was good, but I can only imagine the disgust of others once they realized I would be sitting in the middle seat. So, to Rochelle, Carrie, Johanna and Tash: I used Old Spice, and sometimes, it doesn't rub on right... Blame Procter and Gamble...
No really, I want to thank them for being the best gal pals a single fella like myself could muster up. I sometimes feel like they deserve a better friend than myself, so it pleases me often to hear them laugh at my awful jokes and generally make me feel good about myself in this rather unsettling circus of self-doubt that is my life. Even if we (I'm speaking to them now, so if you're not one of them, read on ahead or stick around... It could get weepy, so just a heads up....)had just sat around the Fudges, drinking Mango nectar and replaying "Midnight Train to Georgia" and "Bulging River" over and over again, that week would have been complete just to have spent time with you four lovely ladies. And you too Leland, even though the daily grind was calling your name, you were there in spirit... And also, your seed was firmly planted in Tash's womb (two times over, no less), so it wasn't hard for us to forget you...
So, inside jokes aside, thank you. I'll post pics up soon.
In other news, I'm officially an uncle.
Casen James Rogers, born 09 January, 2009. He looks just like my brother in law, in case anyone is curious. He's currently trapped in the NICU while he fights an infection, but he should be out in a few. Today he had some mild jaundice, so he was under this super blue light. He had to wear these horribly awesome goggles that made him look like he was lounging, rather than being generally miserable (I imagine) from being away from his parents for hours at a time. I've been down to see him three times now, and he gets cuter each time. Yay! Babies! Now I need one of my own..............
Hrrrmmm.... What else....
Oh! Okay, so I'd never seriously endorse a reality show (save for Project Runway), but a friend of my family is currently on The Biggest Loser. His name is Blaine (no joke, my inside friends. How 'bout that!? I'm so meta!). He went to school with my sister (he's just a year older), and we've known his parents, and his younger siblings for years. Anyway, this is the first time I've known anyone who has been on a reality show, and I must say it alters your investment significantly. While I can't count him among my friends, and I guarantee you he may not remember me all that well, it still makes the experience of watching the show all the more entertaining. Anyway, the show's on on Tuesdays at 8 on NBC, so have a look-see, and say hello to Blaine, a guy I kinda know... Woo hoo!
That's it for now. Pics to come. Either here or on Facebook. Probably on Facebook. Yeah. So, not here. Facebook...
*Sorry for the inside jokes. I just can't help myself (HA!!!! I STRIKE AGAIN!!!!!!)
L - The curb outside Diane Keaton's house... We all know what happened next...
O - A check for A MILLION DOLLARS!
S - Auditioning for Pepperdine Law School by wowing the admissions folks with one's rendition of "Defying Gravity" from Broadway's Wicked
A - Pretending to write that check for A MILLION DOLLARS!
T - It's important to always be easy. Easy like Sunday morning. *
Hey folks, blog-o-friends and strangers alike. It's been quite a journey since we last shared company on this blog, and since so much has happened, I feel it best to disperse the awesome over a couple of entries.
First off, I got to spend all of last week in Thousand Oaks, with amigos galore, doing Wicked awesome things, and exploring the sights and sounds of UCLA, Loyola Law School, Pepperdine and Western State Law School, among other things (right Corky!?!?!?!?). It was truly a wonderful vay-cay, as TAMN would put it. But before I gush further, I need to really stop and thank the Fudges (all of them, feti included), for their thoughtful hospitality. Secondly, but not really secondly because it means that much to me, I want to thank all of those who put up with my man stank on all of those car rides around L.A.. I was privileged enough to be surrounded by beautiful and well-groomed young ladies, so I was good, but I can only imagine the disgust of others once they realized I would be sitting in the middle seat. So, to Rochelle, Carrie, Johanna and Tash: I used Old Spice, and sometimes, it doesn't rub on right... Blame Procter and Gamble...
No really, I want to thank them for being the best gal pals a single fella like myself could muster up. I sometimes feel like they deserve a better friend than myself, so it pleases me often to hear them laugh at my awful jokes and generally make me feel good about myself in this rather unsettling circus of self-doubt that is my life. Even if we (I'm speaking to them now, so if you're not one of them, read on ahead or stick around... It could get weepy, so just a heads up....)had just sat around the Fudges, drinking Mango nectar and replaying "Midnight Train to Georgia" and "Bulging River" over and over again, that week would have been complete just to have spent time with you four lovely ladies. And you too Leland, even though the daily grind was calling your name, you were there in spirit... And also, your seed was firmly planted in Tash's womb (two times over, no less), so it wasn't hard for us to forget you...
So, inside jokes aside, thank you. I'll post pics up soon.
In other news, I'm officially an uncle.
Casen James Rogers, born 09 January, 2009. He looks just like my brother in law, in case anyone is curious. He's currently trapped in the NICU while he fights an infection, but he should be out in a few. Today he had some mild jaundice, so he was under this super blue light. He had to wear these horribly awesome goggles that made him look like he was lounging, rather than being generally miserable (I imagine) from being away from his parents for hours at a time. I've been down to see him three times now, and he gets cuter each time. Yay! Babies! Now I need one of my own..............
Hrrrmmm.... What else....
Oh! Okay, so I'd never seriously endorse a reality show (save for Project Runway), but a friend of my family is currently on The Biggest Loser. His name is Blaine (no joke, my inside friends. How 'bout that!? I'm so meta!). He went to school with my sister (he's just a year older), and we've known his parents, and his younger siblings for years. Anyway, this is the first time I've known anyone who has been on a reality show, and I must say it alters your investment significantly. While I can't count him among my friends, and I guarantee you he may not remember me all that well, it still makes the experience of watching the show all the more entertaining. Anyway, the show's on on Tuesdays at 8 on NBC, so have a look-see, and say hello to Blaine, a guy I kinda know... Woo hoo!
That's it for now. Pics to come. Either here or on Facebook. Probably on Facebook. Yeah. So, not here. Facebook...
*Sorry for the inside jokes. I just can't help myself (HA!!!! I STRIKE AGAIN!!!!!!)
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