It's New To You...

We're no longer a fixed width blog here at the HabDash, so give me your thoughts on this new stretchy redesign...

gracias...

pm/pm...

For the past little bit, the convenience store chain, am/pm has had the slogan, "Too Much Good Stuff". Recently, I saw an ad of theirs that stated quite clearly that "You Can Never Have Too Much Good Stuff."

So...

- If am/pm is Too Much Good Stuff,
- And their current ads dictate that You can never have too much good stuff,
- Then doesn't that logically indicate that You can never have am/pm?

Ergo...
am/pm,
You've just been proof'd...

The Gold Violin

Thank you Dyna Moe. And AMC...

Mad Men Yourself

Whinging About

I failed to mention in my last post another good thing about this trip: seeing family. They've been great hosts, and good company, and it's always great to see them, even if I was constantly longing for a good spit-up in order to ease my nausea.

Old Gregg

I'm in Utah right now, or the Motherland as it might as well be known, and I'm not in the best of spirits. Since Wednesday, I've had a mild flu-like symptom bug of some kind, rendering me pretty useless. Naturally, I'm convinced it's that pig disease that's been so much a part of the pop culture zeitgeist these past couple of months, but I've googled the symptoms, and I should be fine.

I don't think I would mind too much if our trip didn't involve so much driving. So far, we've driven a least one hour every day since Wednesday, and that's frankly too much for this invalid. Couple that with two days in the (hot) sun, one at a very reflective lake (The Bear! Lake), and what you get is a very ruddy, flu-filled face that hurts when I smile. Or wince. Or raise my eyebrows suspiciously...

The best part, however, is that my little neph-ew, Craisin (né Casen) is with us, which has made my flu seem pretty inconsequential. The kid smiles all the time, even when he's half-asleep, and it just melts my feverish heart.

We also caught the newest Potter flick, which was great, but it was unfortunately showing at the worst movie theatre I've ever been to (thanks a million, Cache Valley!). If the cinder block walls (!) weren't enough, then how about cramped stadium seating? Or the shoddy sound system (someone needs a lesson in acoustics)? Or the woman sitting behind us who had obviously read the book, and insisted on telling her friend exactly what it all meant. And when I say "it all", I mean every plot point. To be fair, that last one technically doesn't count against the actual theatre, but still, it made it hard to enjoy the film, really, which is a strike in my book.

So, a summation:
Swine flu?
Driving
The Bear!
Babies
Harry Potter and the Half-Finished Movie Theatre
and finally, Burning Man-Face.

Overall? No fair, but it's been okay.

Jihaddy...

You wanna? Yes? Yes?! Check it...











White Men...

Everybody Betray Me.

My Xbox 360 died yesterday. The dreaded E74 error, in case you're taking notes. Microsoft has kindly agreed to fix it for free, so the poor Box is now on its way to Texas for a look-see. As for myself, and my constituents, we've resorted to mourning its temporary vacation. In light of it all, I will say that the silver lining is the hope that we will take advantage of its time away to rid ourselves of its addictive grasp. Maybe, perhaps, I'll actually get something done.

Oh, Hi Mark!

My latest running mix, featuring thirty-three minutes of continuous fitness favorites:

- Chaiyya Chaiyya Bollywood Joint* - Sukhwinder Singh and Sapna Awasthi, featuring Punjabi MC

- Such Great Heights - The Postal Service

- Live and Let Die - Paul McCartney & Wings

- Let's Go To The Mall - Robin Sparkles

- FutureSex/LoveSound - Justin Timberlake

- Don't Say Nuthin' - The Roots

- Apocalypse Please - Muse

- New Skin - Incubus

*Video from the Bollywood film Dil Se. My version of the song is from Spike Lee's Inside Man. Similar, but not the same, but I LOVE that video, so, yeah...

You're Tearing Me Apart, Lisa!

Things I learned/remembered while cleaning out my Gmail inbox:

- I once applied for a job as an assistant editor to a man (Ben Unguren) who would later become a professor at BYU, and for whom I would be his very first TA. Weird, eh?

- I received an ORCA grant that I never took, nor actually ever wanted, for a documentary project about Islam in Paris. Our funds needed never matched the grant's award amount.

- I used to write copious emails to a friend (hi Nephi) back and forth, wherein we would review the latest movies we'd seen. I enjoyed them thoroughly.

- I got cleared to register for TMA 291 (Film History) before I was ever in the film program.

- I used to sing in the French Choir. It was actually kinda fun.

- I used to write to a girl from France on a pretty regular basis. And no, it's not what you think.

- I actually used to keep in contact with mission friends.

- My Facebook account started on March 4th of 2005. Back then, it was called thefacebook.com. Old Skool.

- I remembered how much I hated TMA 112.

- I almost applied for school at CUNY in New York.

I'm still not finished, so I'm sure there's more to learn and reminisce about. I'm just amazed that all of this was recalled simply through emails I'd received.

Picture Book...

My little brother likes to collect odd, yet unbelievably hilarious pictures and GIF animations. Here are a few for you to enjoy:

Heeeeey....

I'll post more, if you so desire...

Beep Beep, Beep Beep, Yeah!

I've been doing a lot of thinking; a bit more than normal, but not quite enough for it to get me anywhere, but amongst my thoughts I've come to this odd, yet profound conclusion about my life: With all the hoopla often associated with H-Wood and it's glamtastic lifestyle, I've decided that, in spite of my current detest for mediocrity, I really just want to be successful. I really only want to provide, not prosper. I want to tell a story or two, get some foldin' money, and be on my way. Find a niche, give it a whirl, then slowly drift away into old age.

I'll cop to being enamored with fame at one point in my life, wondering at what age I'll win my Oscar, and whether or not I'll have kids by then. I often imagined myself back in France, showcasing my film in Cannes, while, merely three days later, seeing posters for my film adorning every bus stop sur les Champs-Elysées. But, as I think about all of that now, the only word I think of to describe all of that is nice. It would really be nice. That's about all. Pretty vanilla, right? The thing is, I've managed to find fulfillment and joy in things other than fame (since I have yet to experience it), so I know my life can be complete without it. So, why seek it? Why worry about it? I certainly want to get where I need to go, but why choose the path least followed, when the well-worn one is just as wonderful. Robert Frost certainly meant well with his poetry, but I feel like I'm already taking the road less traveled, so why run through the weeds just to find something that may never be there? There are just too many metaphors to wade through before I manage to find myself content with something that's as fickle as a snowstorm in the Sahara. Why chase something that will undoubtedly let you down at some point?

Case in point: Johnny Carson lived 30 years or so in the television spotlight, arguably the best host late night television has or ever will see, but the moment it was done, poof, he was gone. He knew it all meant nothing. He didn't live the rest of his days Norma Desmond style, hoping Leno or Letterman would ask him back for his legendary close-up; he just disappeared. He was done, and part of me wonders if deep down, he'd been begging for it for a long, long time. I'm sure he was proud of what he did, and loved every minute of it, but he knew what mattered.... Can I just say it? Wonderful. It just sounds so wonderful.

But, I don't want to be Carson. I really don't. I just want to be successful. I don't think it's too much to ask for, right? I'm convinced I'll find it. Yeah, you can say that I'm only shooting for the moon instead of the stars, but I just have this one thing to say to you: It's still outer space, right?

Je t'aimais, je t'aime et je t'aimerai...

This morning I woke up, and wished I was still here:

Paris

Rouen

Auxerre

Limoges

Mes pôtes de Paris à St. Merri.

This year marks five years since I returned, and seven since I left, and not a day goes by that I don't wish I was back. Those were the most illuminating, exhilarating, captivating, frustrating, pontificating and satisfying 18 months (yes, only about 18 months in country) of my sad existence; oh how I wish I could do it again...

Here's to the past!

à plus...

Kidney Now!

Nobody...

• Nobody eats at the Olive Garden anymore
  
• Nobody finds Jonah Hill funny
• Nobody cares about plot holes in the new Star Trek
• Nobody wants to see Meg Ryan's new face
• Nobody watches Lost for the characters
• Nobody reads Playboy for the articles
• Nobody wants to find meaning in everything
• Nobody likes religion
• Nobody eats carbs
• Nobody finds Dan Brown relevant
• Nobody cares about Jer3miah
• Nobody hates Arrested Development
• Nobody wants to see your fauxhawk
• Nobody eats a hearty breakfast
• Nobody sleeps in late
• Nobody uses the new Facebook
• Nobody pays full price at Disneyland
• Nobody hits babies
  
• Nobody can resist the Mango
• Nobody plays with their Nintendo Wii
• Nobody parties hard and never regrets it
• Nobody always loves their tattoos
• Nobody gives of themselves
• Nobody hearts the Padres
• Nobody really liked Danny Gokey
• Nobody is ever worth losing
• Nobody should never have friends
• Nobody really hates The Beatles
• Nobody does it like Sara Lee
• Nobody favors Dolby Digital to DTS
• Nobody thinks Chris Nolan is a hack
• Nobody welcomes you to the Polynesian Culture Center
• Nobody likes their PC
• Nobody saw Serenity
• Nobody should ignore Joss Whedon
• Nobody isn't afraid
  
• Nobody should live without a broken heart
• Nobody shoots on film
• Nobody likes cinnamon gum
• Nobody should wear THAT much perfume
• Nobody has ever seen an elephant fly
• Nobody likes morning radio shows
• Nobody finds Kathie Lee Gifford funny
• Nobody will pay extra for your supplements, silly
• Nobody doesn't like a good massage
• Nobody reads this blog
  

Jacky Jormp-Jomp

Question: Why do I always assume the worst? I have some kind of disease, I think, which makes me completely incapable of assuming anything good about anybody. I won't get into specifics, but I've recently done this several times to several different folks, and it's just rude and insensitive, but I really can't help it. My imagination feeds off of manufactured drama, and so I suppose it's only natural for me to manufacture drama in my own life. I remember as a child pretending my life was a sitcom, or a cheesy Disney movie (à la Honey I Shrunk The Kids, or The Big Green), in an effort to spice things up. I actually remember creating moments of dramatic intensity in my head from mundane situations, like this one, for example:

I'd leave a newly purchased toy in the car whilst running errands with my mom. In my head, the camera would watch as my mother and I would leave the car, and as we'd leave, it'd pan down to the toy, in a sort of "Uh oh! He shouldn't have left that..." moment.

So, that was me, directing my life's smaller moments into swells of dramatic flair that no one else would (or should) ever find interesting. And, now, as a fully formed adult with a college degree and years of life lessons merit badges attached to his sleeve, I still do it, except to a degree that borders on psychotic. I don't think it's because I expect the worst out of those I love, but instead that I fear the worst. I've grown accustomed to seeing so many big dramatic moments, plot twists, and character reversals that I've managed to put those things into my own life, especially where they don't exist.

BUT, the difference here is that these plot developments don't make my life any more interesting; they make them more complicated. If these assumptions were true, then that would certainly make for a fast-paced thrill ride, but they're not. Often my assumptions result in mundane realizations, and gross misunderstandings. It's embarrassing how often I've had to mentally put my foot in my mouth.

I guess I'm grateful for my shier nature, as it doesn't allow me the tenacity to confront these assumptions head on, and make a fool of myself. Still, my head gets dizzy with my wild imagination, and that's enough to make me feel the fool for assuming so much.

This is the part of the post where I say that I should look to a brighter future, but I don't. My future isn't bright. As long as I continue to saturate my thoughts with story, I'll always look for ways to create drama in my own life. Oh well, right?

A Box-Office Songsation...

I am debating whether or not to apologize for my absence. I think I've decided not to, since it's not like I owe you anything, especially an apology. Buy me a prime rib dinner at somewhere besides a state-line casino, and maybe I'll give you a "Well, maybe it WAS a long time", but that's all.

So, in honor of my lack of regular postings, I'll let you know about all of the other things I've managed to make regular fixtures in my life:

- I'm writing regularly. In fact, everyday for the past week or so I have made progress on a Courier-stained document of some kind, and it feels refreshing, liberating, and most importantly, fun.

- I'm exercising regularly. In other words, I'm bringing sexy back.

- I'm cutting down on my shows on a regular basis. I've managed to cut at least three shows from my normal rotation, with more to come, I think. I need to focus my time, and trying to keep up with EVERYTHING (except reality) on TV is a full-time job. And so, until I am actually employed by TV Guide, I'll pass on trying to fill my media cup.

- I'm playing video games more regularly, and not ad nauseum. Now, most of you would call this a negative, but my inner-child craves this sort of escapism, and I often get pangs of (financial) guilt whenever I see my Xbox or Nintendo Wii sitting idly by. I enjoy playing games. So sue me. So, the fact that I've managed to control the amount of time that I play them, and create this much satisfaction is a big deal for me.

- I'm watching American Idol regularly. Now, again, most of you would call this a negative, but I have my reason, and his name is Adam Lambert. I've been an ardent supporter of this awesome performer since high school, and to see him pretty much blow everyone away on Idol this year has been fun. He was amazing then, and he's amazing now.

That's it for the moment. Lastly, I want to recommend Star Trek (the new one), cause it's pretty great, fan of the shows or not (I'm no fan, trust me). I saw it last night, and despite the CONSTANT (literally) jabbering from the d-bag's behind me (Words to the Wise: just because the movie goes silent, does not mean your mouths have to open. Quiet moments in film are meant to be just that: quiet...), it was a wonderful movie-going experience. It's the very definition of a satisfying spectacle, a phrase Hollywood only seems to half understand (the latter half). A good, recent example of this? Wolverine. *blech* Loved the cameos from Amanda Foreman and Grunny (WHADDUP! To my Felicity crew, dawgz!), and I'm happy to say that Zach Quinto is MUCH better than the dreck they're writing for him on Heroes. A LOT better. And J.J., you're still my cinematic guru; keep it up.

cheers!

The Pelican Brief

You asked. I give:

Alright, so for those of you who watch Chuck (and if you don't, why not? It's a relatively harmless good time), you probably know about Captain Awesome.

Captain Awesome (seen to your left, my right) is the oft shirtless beefcake seen traipsing around the apartment of Chuck and his sister, Ellie (also pictured). Awesome (as he's often called by Chuck) is Ellie's doctor fiancé, and probably one of the nicest guys in the world. He is the perfect gentleman to Ellie, and a sweet "bro" to Chuck's nerdtastic antics and even to his friends. He's loving, caring, and ripped; he's like Edward, but without the sparkles and the blood sucking (and the creepy night-stalking). He's like the epitome of the perfect guy, a great foil for both of the Bartowski siblings who are full of insecurities.

So, how does this all relate to BYU? Well, within the walls of the world's largest (and driest) Bubble, you'll find a whole mess of Captain Awesomes. Yeah, sure, there's a good number of Chuck's, or even Morgan's (Chuck's hopeless best friend), but the vast majority seem to fall into the Awesome category...

Why? Well, if it's not apparent already to most people, BYU has a lot of pretty faces. A lot. Looks are very important to both guys and girls, and it shows. When the metrosexual movement threatened to destroy the very fabric of society, the homies at the BYU were all over it. Finally! They cried! They could dress fab-u-lous, and still get girls! There's a lot of superficiality involved in it, but this quest for sex appeal is so common there because, in the game of coupling, looks are paramount.

But, you ask, not everyone is as good looking as Captain Awesome... Yes, but you've seemed to have forgotten the other half of what makes Captain Awesome so awesome: his genteel nature. Now, you'd be hard-pressed to argue that BYU is not full of the nicest people on the planet... A few examples: If you're running into a building, 9 times out of 10, the door will be held open for you... If you lose something on campus, you'll probably get it back... If you slip on some ice, you'll probably get helped... They're just like that. The majority of the guys at the school served missions, faithfully giving up themselves for two years, and getting lost in the service of others, so that's certainly a factor. They've served in leadership positions, walked through scary neighborhoods, faced daily persecution, and they all (myself included) came out the other side, smiling, and grateful for those two years. So, in essence, the majority of the males at Brigham Young University are, in some respects, Captain Awesomes in their own right.

But, you ask again (what's with the buts? Are you never satisfied?), what does this all mean? Well, having come out of the BYU experience unmarried, single and yearning, I feel like I had to take stock and think "What did I do wrong?"*

This is when I began to realize that during my time there, I was in CONSTANT competition with the Captain Awesomes. I can't call myself awesome. I just can't. I know I'm not drop-dead handsome, and I'm okay with that. I know I don't dress fashionably, or wear polo shirts, and I'm definitely okay with that. I know my body is tubbier than it should be (not okay with that), but I'm willing to accept it for now. Yeah, I served a mission, and I learned a ton, but I still feel spiritually weak. I consider myself a nice guy, but I tend to become an intense misanthrope when placed in small spaces with big crowds, or at Smith's on a Monday or Saturday night. I feel flawed. And I project that. A lot. I'm aware of this.

So, here's my theory:

People like me will always be overlooked, because of the Awesomes of the world. And, in an environment like BYU, I didn't stand a chance, since the majority of the student population falls into the Awesome category in some respect, whereas I just don't have what it takes.

I know my theory is flawed (its a theory after all), and like all theorists, I must recognize these flaws. Here they are:

Most people feel like me. Most people feel inadequate, and no matter how strong spiritually, or attractive physically, most human beings feel flawed (as they should, or else we'd all be screwed). Also, me blaming my singles status on factors out of my control is lazy, and stupid. I'm well aware that I could have dated anyone that I wanted to, but the fact is, I didn't. I didn't date hardly at all. My own fault. And also, who am I to classify myself as throughly un-Awesome? I don't think I'm allowed to say this, but for all intents and purposes, I'm not awesome. Okay? So, just roll with it. If you disagree, then comment below. If you're also single, and ready to mingle, you know my number...

But, what I can say is that the problem with BYU for people with low self-image is that they will most certainly not feel welcome. Yeah, people will love them, and they'll make friends, but will they date? Will they get married? Possibly, but not certainly. Being surrounded by Awesomes all day long can really make a person nervous, thrusting their self-esteem even further down the toilet. It's never easy to feel bad about who you are, but when there's a constant reminder that you aren't what you want to be, or what others wish you to be, it's devastating. I don't think I ever felt this bad, but I came close, especially during the lonely times.

But, I think it's why I abhorred the dating scene in Provo, because I just felt like I would never get a shot. Why pick me, when you can have Pecsnabs Smith? Or Tim McGelhair? It's all a very vicious, unending cycle of self-loathing and misanthropic detest. It's pretty lame.

But, lest you believe I'm bitter, or upset or what have you, I'm not. I actually never saw myself as being married while in school. I just couldn't imagine it. Would I have done it, had the opportunity arisen? Of course. I'm no fool.

So, there you have it. My soul, on a platter of speculation and NBC television programs. Don't pity me, because I don't need it. What I need is a girl, and I'm pretty sure I don't want her pity.

Is that too much to ask!?!?!?

More Useful I'd Be...

I was reminded today how much I love all of these.

I especially recommend:

This one...*

And this one...*

And then the "sequel" of sorts to the last one...*

This one makes me cry...

This one makes me laugh...

This is the one that started it all...*

But, I'd recommend them all. I really would.

cheers!

*Big ups to my peeps:
Carrie "The Bear" Shakes It,
Hayley "Draw Me Wearing This" Smith,
and Ben "Jammin'" Ungz.
Carrie is the brainchild behind Primary South London, formerly known as Earl; Hayley gave us Karolee: A Saga in Two Parts; and Big Ungz gave us Leroy, as well as a few others... Mad props, y'all...*

**Oh, and let's not forget Dean "If Eric Idle and Gene Wilder Sired A Canadian Socialist With A Penchant For Brilliance" Duncan, because this is his (and Ben Unguren's) baby... Nice...**

Pair A Ducks...

Lost makes my head hurt. Here's why:

Wouldn't it be weird to come to the realization that your central purpose in life is not to make a better future, but to actually make for a better present... That's kind of profound, when you think about it.

Also, wouldn't it be weird if you came to the realization that your future self (which is actually your past self) will be greatly influenced by your present self?

And, wouldn't it be wacky if you realized that no matter what you chose, even if you knowingly and directly defied what you believed to be the proper outcome, that no matter how defiant you try to be against it, fate will ALWAYS make things happen as they should?

And finally, isn't it crazy that in this case (unlike other bits of pop lit), no prophesy or omens are needed to declare to these people that "You Have A Destiny" - Of course they do: because it's already happened (but has it? Not to them, of course, but to their forebearers... Wha!?)

Cycles, cycles, cycles, cycles.... This show is all about cycles. How interesting that one of the first image's of the show's Second Season was a Mama Cass Elliot record spinning (in a constant, predetermined cycle), and the opening strains of "Make Your Own Kind of Music", the ultimate song about defying preset norms (or destiny, if you will).... Take a look-see (by the way, for all non-Losties, this was one of the COOLEST reveals this show had done up till that point...)



Ah ha! Have Free Will and Destiny finally found each other? Is holy matrimony on its way? Have these two ideas existed in a false dichotomy all of these years, trying to make us believe that you can't have both? If last week's episode taught us anything, it's that we are free to choose, but that doesn't mean that'll change the outcome...

See why my head spins every single week? And see why I itch to talk to someone at length about this? It's fascinating, if not maddening, but doesn't that make for the best type of media?

Dharma Lady

Firstly, I need to apologize. My gut tells me nothing is wrong, but my heart feels the guilt of something, and in this instance (as with most instances), the heart wins. So, if I have in any way, shape, or form, offended you, hurt you, pissed you off, frustrated you, bitten you, or otherwise irritated you, I cannot help but feel deeply sorry. The inner workings of my brain dictate that I must feel extreme guilt and sadness over the awful things I say and do, and like what Tom Hanks so boldly declares in the classic tech-savvy "will they or won't they" thriller, You've Got Mail...

"I must warn you, that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it…remorse inevitably follows"

Truer words have probably been spoken, but in this particular context, Mr. "Just Call Me Joe" Hanks is the I Ching... So, with that in mind, I just want to say, "I hope you're not mad at me, because I'm not mad at you."

Secondly, I came to this realization as I tried for once to actually go to bed at a decent hour:

I sure have been half-assing it lately.

And by "it", I mean everything.

Why, might you ask? Well, I suppose it has a lot to do with my situation. I've resigned myself to experience mediocrity, as if this is to be the expected post-collegiate experience and all. I've almost convinced myself that I'm happy waking up at 9:30 every morning, wandering aimlessly around the house, maybe doing some mild exercise, having a shower, and then figuring out on a minute by minute basis what the crap I'm gonna try next. By the time I decide to do something productive, it's time to eat dinner. And that's it. From there on out, my day is done. Nothing of worth to show for it. Nothing. Yeah, I finished a spec script for 30 Rock, and I've managed to do tons of edits on my senior project, but really? 8 months after graduating, and all I have to show for it is a half-way decent spec script and a new version of a film that should have been done 8 months ago? I've tried to write, but writing without a purpose feels like a chore, and one that is rarely rewarding (Just to be clear, writing my 30 Rock spec was the most fun I've had writing in a long, long time). I kick myself every day at around 11:30 pm, where I realize I have nothing to show for the past 15 hours that I've been awake, so I panic, and I think "Well, what can I do now?" As the fatigue of a day's layabout sets in (pathetic, I know), I decide rather quickly that instead of writing, I'll catch up on Breaking Bad, or watch some dopey movie on Instant Watch, all things that I can (and do) do during the day...

And this half-assing thing extends beyond my secular pursuits. I feel spiritually less than I have been in a while, and it's eating me up. I won't go into this, as it's personal, but being home has made it surprisingly harder to be where I want to be spiritually. I've just been experiencing a lot of adult onset anxiety (or AOA). Chalk that one up to the number 8, and the fact that three people I came to know well growing up have all left their wives to seek selfish endeavors... So you can imagine I've struggled a bit.

So yeah, half-assed. That's exactly how I'd describe my days as of late.

And for those of you mildly put off by my word choice, then I applaud your concern, but, let's be honest, folks: as someone I may have offended once put it, "There's sometimes really no other way to say it " - I'm paraphrasing, of course, but you get the point.

I'm tired of living my weeks Wednesday to Wednesday (if I need to explain this, you don't come here often), because eventually, Wednesdays will be full of summer replacement programming, and So You Think You Can Dance results shows. Soon, what will I have that I can genuinely look forward to? I've grounded my reality in the experiencing of the unreal, and it's making my personal life a living hell. I don't sleep at night because I worry about everything I'm not doing, and how I need to start doing it. It's why I usually don't even try to sleep until I'm tired. It's why I wake up at 9:30.

I'm trying to remedy the writing issues with Script Frenzy, a "competition" of sorts where folks are challenged to complete a screenplay (or a comic book, or a TV spec pilot), of about 100 pages in 30 days (or the month of April). There's no prize, other than a finished script (which is actually a worthy reward). But, I'm on the fence as to what to write. I wrote about a page and half today of something, before giving up, and watching the Damages finale (sooooo good, by the way), so I'm thinking of trying something new. I want to be excited to write again, and I hope this can do it.

As for the other things, we'll see. I know what I need to do, but I just don't have the balls to do it. Well, that's not entirely true. I always feel like I have the best of intentions, just never the gall to follow through. I've never been good with goals, setting them or achieving them. I hate to be disappointed, so I try to avoid setting my sights too high... (and I'm going into filmmaking, why? *shrug*)

I dunno. All in all, this blog post reminds me of something I heard Meg Ryan once say:

"The odd thing about this form of communication is that you're more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant so much more to me than so many somethings."

So, maybe it ain't all bad. Maybe doing nothing can actually prove to be something. Nora Ephron emphatically states in a revealing behind-the-scenes featurette that "Everything is copy", meaning that everything is a story; I just think I need to pull together everything good about my time here, and forget my failures. I have a lot to be grateful for, being home, and I suppose I need to hold on to those, and stop wishing things were perfect.

I think this sums it all up:

"Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void...."

*le sigh*

1-900-OKFACE

I had a whole post worked up about this awesome creative epiphany I had while writing that I felt I needed to share... So, I wrote it out, and actually posted it, but then I realized that it just wasn't suitable for public consumption. So, in exchange for that, I'll just mention this:

Carl Jung was a very smart man.

You da man, CJ...