Mental Flotsam, Mental Jetsam

Well Isn't This Just Great

2009-12-01T23:44:00.004-05:00

I've never enjoyed not knowing what to do. (I can't think of anyone who likes feeling ignorant or unsure.) Everyone has a comfort zone. We go out of our way to stay inside them-- stick to things we're good at, hang with people we like and are like us, avoid unnecessary challenges and upsets.

In terms of a comfort zone, I feel quite close to the edge of mine. It's been brought to my attention that I avoid dealing with things that make me angry. I laugh them off, or ignore them, or pay attention to something else until they go away. It's pretty much how I left things with my first roommate, here in New York. We had issues, we never talked about them, we avoided each other, and then I moved out.

Why do I avoid conflict? Why do I back down every time? Why do I wait them out?

My patience has been rewarded (sort of) in the past. If I was in a show and didn't get along with someone (this was rare); I knew it'd only be a matter of time before the run was finished. Then I'd never have to see them again. Problem solved?

Why bottle it up? Why refuse to face it? What is so wrong with anger that it can't be processed in a healthy way? What the hell is so wrong with a disagreement? Or a balanced confrontation? Or facing an issue that needs resolving? And most importantly, where the fuck do I get answers at this point?

This sounds stupid even as I'm typing it, but I always assumed Anger Management courses involved people who couldn't control a temper they already had-- not a temper they never lost. It's about being assertive.

I get angry, or offended, and then do nothing about it. I don't bring it up, I don't try to resolve the issue, I just clean up after it and subconsciously expect/wait for it to happen again.

It pisses me off.

Not pants-rippingly-turning-green-and-monosyllabic pissed off, but still. A degree of anger is there.

I think there are things I can do to become more assertive. Responsible things. It's not about power, or taking control, it's about getting done the things I need to get done. Doing what's right for me.

On a side-note, it is grossly uncomfortable even writing about this subject. Change is uncomfortable-- like trying on clothes that are too small, and having to move around in them even though they're constricting you.

Still, this is important. Important and worth sharing. Thanks, coach.

How I Went A Month And A Half Without Blogging

2009-10-13T00:59:00.002-04:00

Heh. Well, now we'll see if that kind of headline draws any additional readers-- I've been doing a fair bit of in-office research; and writing a good headline has been part of the work. Good stuff.

I had an excellent birthday. I'm enjoying being a prime number again for the first time in a decade; just in time for my own personal Saturn Return.

I've been brainstorming, but have been doing little actual writing. That's going to change. I need to get All Fall Down out of the way before I try to tackle anything truly new. At least write the last two scripts-- it's still going to be a while before they see shelves. I'm living with it.

Saw a tarot card reader last week (by far the most unique birthday gift I received, thanks boss). He had encouraging things to say; and only one or two ominous warnings, so that's good.

I feel... good. I went for a long walk yesterday (2 miles on the track) and I've been meditating semi-regularly. I like it, and I like how it makes me feel. Gives me a clear head.

I have plans to build a sketch comedy team-- plans that are still in the very early stage. I have yet to even hold auditions. Need to get on the ball there. I have time and should be making the most of it. Weekends are the ideal time to hold try-outs, and I won't have a free day before Halloween. *Shrug.*

I need to change the way I go about doing certain things. Get rid of some bad habits, and force-feed some new ones until they stick. I'm pushing 30. It's high time. I've taken a few steps toward that goal, but they won't happen overnight, or by accident. 'bout time I used some willpower. Eh?

Oh-- I also went *out* Friday night. To socialize. Flying solo. Cannot remember the last time I did that, but seeing as I'm not going to meet anyone sitting around at home, it was the next best option available. So. There's that.

Anyway. Life, going on. As it does.

I'm putting myself out there.

Things Are Looking Up

2009-08-22T15:33:00.003-04:00

Hello, dear readers. Lots to report so we'll dive right in.

I've been working steadily for almost two months at a bankruptcy firm-- business is booming. I have yet to run out of things to do, there. (It's good to be busy.)

I've been sending out vibes and the universe has been kind in response: I currently have more freelance work than I know what to do with. I love it. Some VO work, a ton of copy-editing to get through, and oh yes, back with a former employer to help him with his writing. Shazam.

It's a warm day, and I'll be taking in some Shakespeare in the park this afternoon, after I get a long-overdue haircut.

In other news, I had my first VO audition in far too long, this week. I think it went well, but only time will tell. I long to get back into the cartoon biz. That is all.

Working full-time hasn't hampered my creativity; I conjured up an idea for a comic book miniseries on Thursday. Will flesh it out a bit today before I put it aside; there are bigger pots on the stove that require my attention. Need to stay focused.

A series of random events led me to meeting a nice young woman on the subway; she was showing her visiting brother the Big Apple. We clicked in our brief encounter, and yours truly has a dinner date this Tuesday. I didn't think those sorts of thing ever actually happened-- random rendezvous leading to dates. Still, I guess this is how strangers become friends.

More to follow, folks. Ciao for now.

Lots To Do

2009-07-06T00:17:00.002-04:00

It's been a good weekend. The 4th was restful, and I managed to get a good bit of writing done this weekend. I'm working on a new project, something I won't jinx by discussing too prematurely. I'll leave it at, "It's off to an encouraging start."

I'm tired. Tomorrow's a long day. It's that simple. Money is tight these next few days, but income is coming in from a few different sources that should compensate: two day jobs, eBay and a freelance assignment from out West. I'm doing what I can, folks. Keep your fingers crossed.

On an unrelated (but very important) subject, my Dad is having surgery first thing in the morning. It's serious but not life-threatening; for which I'm immensely grateful.

Lots going on, lots to do. More to follow.

Cue the theme to "Jaws"

2009-06-24T21:45:00.002-04:00

As you may or may not have heard, on Sunday June 14th, being of sound mind and body, I dressed up in shorts, a t-shirt and an inside-out bathrobe and took to the streets. Specifically, the streets of Union Square. I did not go alone. No sir. By my side (or in front of me) was Herman, a 7-foot long fibreglass great white shark. Perfecting the image of insanity was the sign I'd drafted, which read "Need $ for Shark Food (He's doing poorly)".

Call it a social experiment. Call it a chance to blow off some steam in a manner not entirely dissimilar to M*A*S*H's own Trapper and Hawkeye. (They frequently acted crazy to prove that they were sane.) Call it thinking and acting outside the box.

Sure, some folks were confused. They were no doubt asking themselves, "Why is a healthy, seemingly cognizant adult sitting on the street, asking (via print) for hand-outs for what is obviously a fake shark?" To ask why was to miss the point. There was no reason. There still isn't one. It was just fun.

The majority of passersby got the joke. Some gave a chuckle, some only a smile, some even gave a dollar. Many took pictures. The minority took offense to my harmless attempt to kill a few hours on what was a glorious and beautiful day.

Here's the kicker: It made New York Magazine. After only a few short hours of benign frivolity, my harmless antics were deemed worthy of recognition in their weekly "Neighborhood News" segment. Others mentioned in that week's post: Social Security fraud (he was dressing up like his dead mother), a cafeteria-wide food fight, and last but not least; an official police search for a runaway pony. The spirit of the post, I gathered, was this: "Real-life events that would make a person say, There's something you don't see every day."

Needless to say, my roommate is chomping at the bit to resume the activities Chondrichthyic. My own self, I'm not so sure. A repeat performance might smack of unoriginality. We'll just have to wait and see. I wonder who else might be, too...

Internet Therapy

2009-06-16T18:28:00.004-04:00

Things at the moment are far from ideal. I'm working less than 10 hours a week (and taking interviews). Money is obviously tight as a result. A family member is going into hospital soon, for a serious operation. My prayers are with them. Not for the first time, I'm wishing I was closer to Maryland. (I almost wrote 'home'... but that's New York. For the time being, anyways.)

The screenplay's new draft is complete; which leaves me with far too much free time for uninterrupted thought. Not the best pastime at the moment. Applying for jobs and so forth takes up less time than I'd like.

There are blessings. A supportive family, good friends (local and abroad) and a patiently understanding landlady. That, and something to look forward to: an audition for a touring production. I don't want to jinx myself by divulging too much; let's just leave it with the firm stance that there are two parts I'd be great for.

Anyway. When feeling low, as I do now, one solution is to process the items and put them in perspective. My roommates are out and I'm not up for calling anyone; so that leaves you, gentle reader.

Are you sitting comfortably?

I maintain that the choice to move to New York was the right one; nevertheless I'm facing the reality that it's a choice I won't be able to sustain much longer without drastic improvement in my prospects. Prayers are welcome as ever (not to mention recommendations).

I don't know what's coming next; a feeling that's never been comfortable. There only so many things I can actively do to attempt some measure of control or influence on my life: namely to look for work, and submit my writing for consideration with agencies, producers and friends with connections. My roommate Trevor believes in me 100%, a feeling I take comfort and encouragement in-- he knows that I'm trying.

The past six months have been educational in more ways than one. I worked for (to put it delicately) a difficult man. I compare having worked for him with having worked for Life (the state of being, not the magazine) : there were parts I did not like, parts I disagreed with; but on the whole it was educational in a good way. Calvin's father of Calvin & Hobbes fame would issue some unwanted chore or task, saying "It builds character". There weren't that many unwanted chores-- it was the man's verbal abuse that built character. If he read this, he'd shake his head and say "you missed the point. I was trying to show what it's like to be a businessman." I'd say the point was received just fine.

Sunday is Father's Day. I volunteered to travel down for the weekend, but Dad's ministerial duties will make him largely unavailable. (He's got to be at the church on time, after all.) He suggested I visit in a few weeks' time. Sounds good to me.

I'm single, and not doing much dating. Making mild efforts with a dating service, but otherwise I'm not actively looking for anyone. This is not because I don't want to; quite the opposite. I want very much to find the right person. I do know, however, that looking for them never gets results. It's a funny world.

I'm proud to say I did something completely random on Sunday, and on the whole original. Dressed as a crazy person, I carried a 40 lb. fibreglass great white shark to Union Square and asked people for donations to buy shark food because Herman (the shark) was "doing poorly". About 80% of the passersby got the joke, and moved on with a smile. Some even left donations! Call it a social experiment, call it a M*A*S*H-worthy exercise in blowing off crazy-steam. I call it a fun way to spend a beautiful Sunday afternoon (and make thirty bucks). I don't frequently indulge the 'weird' side of my creativity. In any case, the occasion was extremely satisfying.

And look at that... I'm feeling a bit better. Thanks for the ear, as always. Ciao for now, folks.

Here We Are Again, Same Sh*t, Different Day

2009-06-04T22:02:00.002-04:00

Not for the first time; I'm finding myself in the unenviable position of being between jobs. The timing couldn't be worse.

I'm going to be trying to sell a few things on Ebay as I continue looking for work. Also, I'm polishing a screenplay that will shortly be going out to the one or two viable showbiz contacts I have that could do something with it.

Frankly, I hate being in this position. It's a god-awful feeling. Things I'm trying to get done get pushed further and further off; and it just feels like it's completely out of my hands. Damn it. Damn it.

Damn.

If It's Not One Thing...

2009-05-28T00:05:00.003-04:00

Right. So. I had an interview for a potentially-cool part time job today; got a phone call from one of my temp agencies that assured me things were a go for *another* part time job, and by some stroke of luck I still have my first job, working for the producer. And I may be picking up some freelance copy-writing/editing work in the near future. Woot.

I certainly won't be lacking for opportunities; in the coming days. Will I.

With one fire (being finances) being relatively doused for the time being, I am left with small recourse but to examine the other 'problems'. I'm... lonely. Best word for it. I'd like very much to find someone with whom I can spend time; when it's available. Someone to talk to, aside from yours truly.

I won't deny that solitude has served me well; in the last month I managed to write an entire screenplay, My Neighbor is a Supervillain. I've never written anything so fast in my life. An abundance of after-hours freetime, unhindered by a social life, made that possible. Now I'm shopping for an agent. (Do wish me luck.)

So. Pros and cons, as with any damned thing. Nothing new. Regardless. It would be quite something to just connect, with the right person.

On a completely different subject, the apartment now has a fibreglass great white shark in it. Named Herman. Not *my* first choice for a name, but I didn't find the blessed thing, either.

Right. So. I hope all is well, folks. Any updates will be reported in due time. Cheers.

Admiration and Accomplishment (Alliteratively)

2009-05-24T01:02:00.005-04:00

I could listen to Stephen Fry read from the phone book. There is no end to my admiration for the man. He's a gifted actor, a brilliant novelist, one hell of a narrator and oh yes-- writes a brilliant sketch.

I was lucky enough to have found one of his starring TV series, Kingdom, on hulu.com. I'm enjoying it immensely.

Is it weird to want or appreciate a role-model in one's late twenties? Aren't people 'done' by now, essentially? Cookies come out of the oven at some point, having received all the heat and time they need. I wish I'd discovered Mr. Fry a decade ago. No use weeping over spilled milk. One can only move on with some shred of enlightenment.

I admire the proper usage of words, I respect it. It's virtually as good as currency with me. Stephen Fry is an absolute master of it.

I'm a firm believer that one of the key reasons 'we are here' is to best express ourselves. Find the proper words, find the proper definitions. Say what you mean, in the best possible means. (I rather like that.) Admiration is like a coin in the pocket, already spent but still in hand. Given and had in the same silver disc. Currency. I like it.

Anyway. Stephen Fry is brilliant and the more people that know it, the better.

Him and Alan Moore.

Regardless, of late my writing has taken a larger role in my work than ever. I recently finished a screenplay, My Neighbor is a Supervillain. By the definition of others, it's cute, it's fun and it's just the right length. I've started sending it out to be considered by agencies, and will be doing more of the same on Memorial Day: preparing post to go out. What else are an abundance of paper, postage and envelopes good for?

I have to write. I have to keep writing. It's the best expenditure of my time. No two ways about it.

On a completely separate note; I attended a wedding reception tonight. It was charming, warm and sweet. The bride and groom were made for each other. An absolutely delicious feeling I haven't tasted in years-- that sensation of belonging with someone. Things did not work out with that particular someone, and part of me has been praying/waiting/hoping for a replacement (or qualified placebo) ever since. Life's just funny that way, innit.

Right. Be well, folks. Best to you and yours. More to follow.

So Much Going On

2009-05-10T22:58:00.002-04:00

A lot of things have been on my mind, lately. Life in New York has afforded me some wonderful opportunities, as well as cost me dearly in more ways than one.

At present, I'm only working part-time, a fact I hope to rectify by tomorrow-- if not the end of the week.

My writing is going very well, insomuch as productivity is concerned. I'm too close and too subjective to attest to its quality. It *feels* good, and that will have to be enough for now.

In addition to all this; my comic book, which I have devoted more than two years of my energy and resources to, is gaining steam. I have a plan that could provide me with all the capital I need to finish the job-- a sum that is everything to me, and possibly very little to others.

It feels as if I'm pussyfooting. Hesitating. I'm not closing the deal. While caution is absolutely necessary, this feels like borderline inertia. A mis-step should be avoided-- and I'm doing everything I can to do exactly that-- but what will I be able to say, at week's end? That I found more work? That I accomplished the things I needed to accomplish? That I tried?

Fear of failure has always been a motivator for me; but right now I feel shackled to it. Tomorrow is going to be important on at least two levels that have nothing to do with my current job; to say nothing of my writing. It's crucial these things go well.

And I'm afraid. There's nothing more I can do right now regarding either of them; so worrying about them won't achieve anything. Not a blessed thing.

At the most basic level, I'm grateful for the following:
* I have a family that-- while a fair distance away-- loves and supports me.
* I have instincts, drives and talents that have gotten me this far.
* I have ambition.
* I believe I can do this well.

For all the wind in my sails that those first three things contribute; ultimately they mean nothing without the fourth. I have to believe I can do this well: Write, achieve, find for myself the resources I need.

Otherwise... what is the point?

Repeating Old Mistakes

2009-05-05T20:50:00.003-04:00

I'm not especially proud of the last 24 hours. I thought I was keeping track of my finances better; and with one omission that I'd neglected to literally take into account, I'm out a nasty sum in overdraft fees.

Damn. This is not the first time something like this has happened, but it will hopefully be the last.

Work has been especially taxing, lately. I'm not making the kind of progress that's required of me. It's only because (I think) I remind my boss of a young him that I currently have a job. I cannot afford to screw things up, here.

It's difficult to pinpoint exactly when it happened; but some time in the last year things got harder. More challenging, yes, but the opportunities for success and its due rewards likewise expanded. I think. I hope. I really want to believe there's some balance to be found between the amount of effort I'm making and the possible positive outcomes.

I have to stop repeating the same mistakes. I won't grow, I won't have learned my lesson until I do.

In the past two weeks I've given a good deal of thought to quitting. (I never said I wasn't stupid.) I'm under more scrutiny than I've ever been before, and the ego has taken a number of blows that will likely turn out to build f*cking character. I have more responsibility than I asked for, but I am learning. This feels like the first time that learning has been so extremely unpleasant an experience.

I've been working on a screenplay for the past 7 days. As of last night, I had 60 good pages; which is unheard of for me-- I've never written anything this fast. I could have gotten more done tonight; but I let the stresses of the day get to me and now my focus is lost. Will I get it back tonight? It doesn't seem likely.

Now what? I made choices that brought me to this place, in this time. Some of them were good and right, but a lot of them were very poor.

I'm conflicted. Very conflicted. I'm tempted to go for a walk, despite the ongoing rain. I could use the chance to stretch my legs. I could use the chance to think.

Too often I've indulged in habits because they were comfortable. I'm now (and have been) at the point where they are proving to be detrimental. It's nothing I didn't know. I just... didn't worry about the consequences. I put them off. I can very much believe that I was this stupid.

Something is coming. It's on the periphery, on the horizon, but something is coming. It's up to me to determine what's in it. Good or bad, great or small... Time will tell.

Ciao for now, folks. More to follow.

Tonight's The Night

2009-04-26T16:23:00.002-04:00

Folks, tonight is the staged reading for my thriller, Say A Prayer For Emily Hall. A great deal of work went into the script, and it's through the generosity of The Tank that tonight's even possible.

In related news; no word yet from the New Jersey Rep. However; From the Ground Up company in Los Angeles is moving ahead with their own staged reading, next Sunday. It's the inaugural performance in-residence at their new space, the Lyric Hyperion Theatre. I can't wait to hear what the response is like.

The reaction so far has been positive; and I'm eager to see where the script goes from here. Regardless, after tonight, I'm putting it to bed. Time to move on to my next script; and it's going to be a doozy...

Interesting Thoughts

2009-04-17T00:20:00.002-04:00

Right. Well. Rehearsals for Say a Prayer for Emily Hall are moving along nicely. Had a few excellent moments with the cast tonight, who take direction well and are providing... exactly what I'd hoped. It's a wonderful feeling.

Work is going well and has gone well for the last few days. It's been touch and go but I think I'm finally finding a niche there.

The strangest and best part-- something has been feeding my creative side for weeks. I've been brimming with ideas. Since I started this new job, my creative juices have runnethed over. I got the idea for my next big script (and believe me it's a doozy) on the way to work, one morning.

I now have four to five projects that need developing; e.g., writing in full. One at a time. That feels great. It's just going to take time. Hope I have enough to get it all done.

Cheers.

Been A While

2009-04-09T23:51:00.003-04:00

Folks, friends, to whomever reads this damn thing... things are going well. I'm working, I'm writing and I'm even dating. (If I didn't need a trip to the dentist, life would be just about squarely terrific.)

Two most significant updates: Work and Writing. I've been working in a production office for six weeks, now. It hardly seems possible that it's been that long, but things are going well and I will presently be going on salary. Woot. There's plenty of room to grow in the company, so as always please do pray.

Secondly (and I confess, more excitingly), the writing... My suspense thriller, Say a Prayer for Emily Hall, has gotten excellent response from everyone who's read it. (This includes complete strangers who have no reason to shield my eggshell-delicate ego.) If all goes well, the show will have a staged reading-- and possibly more-- with a theatre company in Los Angeles. At the same time, I'm hosting a staged reading of my own set for the 26th; and a director has expressed interest in submitting the script to a theatre company of solid reputation. These and other developments take time; but I'm fine with that.

Once the suspense thriller is finally put to bed (and possibly given a new title), I have my next project lined up: A children's story idea that would be pure fun to craft. Still, one project at a time. That's the only way to get anything done.

In preparation for yet another writing endeavor, I've given a great deal of consideration about God; lately. I've taken time to consider precisely what I know or think I understand about God, and finding it to be quite small. I *feel* small. I'd be delighted to discuss religious philosophy at length with anyone who's interested. It's too heavy for a blog. At least this one.

I hope you're doing well. Ciao for now.

Why Watchmen Blew

2009-03-15T01:44:00.003-04:00

I saw Watchmen, the other night. I won't lie, I was sorely disappointed, but I went in eyes open for whatever Zack Snyder had to offer. Nevertheless, I'm struck with the same thought that's been shared with countless other devotees to Alan Moore's vision: He completely missed the point.

He missed the point. I'm not saying that the movie wasn't meticulous in detail, it was. Beautifully so. But to dilute the characters, their choices, their reactions; and to spell out their feelings was nothing short of bushleague.

I can cite specific instances where beautiful moments were lost. I can list, document and spell out 'til doomsday the ways in which the movie fell short of the mark. Hell, I even may; if I ever have that much free time or bile stored up.

Regardless, the movie short-changed its audience. It did so badly. Watchmen was bad. It was very bad, and Zack Snyder should feel bad. To say more would belabor the point.

"My Year"

2009-03-02T23:52:00.003-05:00

Hah. Did you see that thing I did there, where I foolishly made the presumption that this was going to be 'my year'? I don't wish to discount the possibility that it very well might end that way, but the beginning of this orbit about the sun has been less than encouraging.

Let's recap: No steady employment. No money coming in. No dating. I'm shocked, shocked by this turn of events that has been the status quo for more than a month, now.

To combat it, I have been applying like a mad man for administrative jobs up, down, left and right across the internet-- the fruits of which were two lukewarm interviews at temp agencies that had no work available. It's said that the act of an insane man is to try the same thing over and over again and expect different results. Time to try something new.

Work isn't available right now. Not in a cubicle. I get that. This could be a blessing in disguise. I was never satisfied in the work place (aka the place of work); it was always a means of filling coffers long enough to make it to the next audition, the next rehearsal, the next play or recording. I spent ten months in a cubicle last year; during which I had a handful of promising auditions. Less than 5. Maybe that time could have been better spent. I don't know. I'm scarcely an objective witness.

I took my friends up on an offer and sold tickets in Times Square. Tickets to what? Stand-up comedy. Scoff all you like (I should know, I was scoffing), but the fact is it put money in my pocket that was not there before and would not have gotten there otherwise. Not the cubicle route. That river has run dry.

This new venture is but one of several I hope to tackle in the coming days, weeks and months. I've officially begun a side business (with as yet no capital or advertising, give me a break it's midnight); Casey Cooks For You. I got the idea from an issue of Time Out New York. Over the next few days, when I have time, I'll be handing out fliers promoting my services as a chef for hire. You never know. This could be something. I lose nothing by trying.

Speaking of trying, I've corralled my nerve and begun putting together material for stand-up of my own. I'm witty, I'm dry and articulate. If I can get a chuckle or two out of some unsuspecting audience, hooray for me.

Something's gotta work. I'm not leaving town. Not any time soon. Not by a long shot.

Progress, As It Is

2009-02-10T22:15:00.005-05:00

Well. A month and change into the new year, and I've been unemployed for two weeks straight. I have an interview tomorrow, and I have been writing... the comic is coming along. I'm trying something new with the thriller; a new format. I'm not sold on it yet.

Trying to sort out my next step would be a lot simpler if I were more sure of things. Not a lot of money, slim prospects. There's a lot not to be certain of. I've been making new friends through theatre slam events.

In any case, tomorrow's another day. Job interview, a dozen or more new job apps as events permit. We'll see.

We'll see.

My Year

2009-01-06T00:07:00.003-05:00

Well now. It seems the Powers That Be are corroborating in my favor. I'd say something snarky like "finally" or "at last" but any American under the age of 30 has no right to be throwing around words like that without sounding like a complete jackass.

Still. It's enjoyable, this sensation of progress being made.

The comic book took a kidney punch late last week; and now mending is being done. More to follow on that soon.

For fear of jinxing my chances with prospect #2, I'm remaining sagely tight-lipped. (But if you drop me a line, I'll let you know the details on a one-on-one basis.)

#3? I'm in the running for a job at NBC. Admin, Clerical stuff, but it'd be my foot in the door. At NBC. They like my resume', they've checked my personal references, and called today to double-check my business references as well. They must want me somewhat for the job; if they're still investigating after ProveIt! tests and interviews and so on.

I really, really need a job. Steady work would be wonderful. Better-paying work and benefits while working in television could be spectacular. I just need to make it happen. If they make the call... I'm gonna be there.

Please, please keep me in your prayers. A lot of irons have been in the fire for a lot of months and now it's 2009.

It's gonna be my year.

A Little Taste of Home

2008-12-24T18:04:00.003-05:00

I find myself a bit perplexed. Confused about many things, but on top of them sits my longing to be with family and the sigh of a nostalgic itch truly scratched.

Thanks to our US Postal System (or UPS), there are gifts under the tree-- for me, from my parents-- which is a very nice but by no means necessary facet of Christmas. As a gourmand shackled to longings for creature comforts... I find other sensory inputs equally if not more satisfying. A small glass of egg nog. The faint smell of pine in the living room. My mom's yuletide appetizer: sausage balls.

I grew up with a certain treat around the holidays, engimatically delicious munchables from a seemingly endless horn of plenty (while not going so far as to spoil one's dinner). My mom's sausage balls were uniquely savory, intriguing and entirely of her. Last year, aware that I'd be stuck in NY for Christmas, I asked her for the recipe. Mind-boggling in its simplicity, I duplicated it exactly.

Cooling on a cookie sheet in the kitchen are dozens of my mom's ought-to-be-patented recipe sausage balls. They're exactly as I remember them; every bit as good. I have a piece of home away from home.

I'm glad it's the only sensory input that can truly be duplicated, away from my family. I'd much rather see any presents beneath the tree accompanied by the people who gave them. I can't deny I miss them terribly.

The economy & my finances being what they are; I'm stuck in New York. But the house has a tree. Complete with presents, no less. And my mom's famed sausage balls in the kitchen. All I'm short is a few family members and a John Denver Muppet Christmas to make it complete.

Merry Christmas, folks. May you be close to the ones you love.

Mom's Amazing Sausage Balls

3 cups Bisquik
2 cups shredded Cheddar
1 lb. Breakfast Spicy Sausage (sliced out of its skin)

Mix in a large bowl until you have a consistent lump of doughy orange mix.
Roll into balls smaller than golf and/or ping pong. Arrange on cookie sheet w/ tin foil.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
15 minutes or so in the oven. (Longer is sometimes better.)

Let cool, enjoy. Toothpicks are a nice touch and spicy mustard makes 'em absolutely killer.
(Though I like them just as much au natural.)

Ho, Ho, No

2008-12-22T23:05:00.004-05:00

Just in time for the holidays, we have startling footage of our beloved Santa Claus behaving in a manner most unsuitable for children.

Kris Kringle was seen shouting into a tape recorder, spewing venom (and bits of tongue on rye) into a cassette recorder before storming off, singing "I Like To Be In America".

As if this were not enough, the self same Pere Noel was later spotted leaving a Washington, DC Burger King in a Ford POS. He was reported to be driving angrily, swerving left and right, and littering on the highway-- a Class C misdemeanor.

This erratic behavior falls well out of the usual activities Old Saint Nick. Brick up your chimneys, kiddies. Santa Claus is coming to town.

Good News, Bad News

2008-12-18T20:18:00.002-05:00

Well. What a madcap few weeks it's been. I'm employed again (in the short term), and have a prospect or three (in the long term). Neither of are great consolation in the very now present. I knew-- KNEW-- that life in New York would be hard. I just didn't want to think about how hard it's gotten of late.

I am clinging to hopes and plans and prayers that the hard work I've put in and am putting in will pay off.

God. It's just difficult. Making ends meet? Getting anything for myself done creatively? Finding someone special. I could use a break. (Couldn't we all.) I could really use a lucky break.

Luck, as they say, is opportunity meeting preparation. I'm prepped. I'm prepped up to my gills. What I could use is some opportunity.

Any day now...

Bad News Follows The Good

2008-12-02T19:08:00.002-05:00

This new job opportunity isn't as easy to get into as I first hoped. It's requiring a few hoops to jump through (not the least of which is a copy of my birth certificate) because I'm going to need New York ID to get started. I don't have it on hand, which means waiting. Waiting and not getting paid.

I need to ask them some questions about what I can do in the meantime; because otherwise I am completely out of ideas. I could really, really use some good news. Not prospects, not a light at the end of a tunnel, something *now*. I know patience has never been my virtue but this is getting obscene.

I've been praying for help; in addition to chasing down this job opportunity; which *can* be lucrative once it starts... it's just the waiting that's going to get me. Nobody made this bed but me; I know that. Doesn't make things the slightest bit easier.

More to follow.

Looking Up

2008-11-30T20:45:00.002-05:00

Well. Work at my temporary assignment ended a week early; thanks to our floundering economy. I do have an interview in the morning that seems promising. The work is less than glamourous; but I'm determined to do whatever's necessary to stay in this city.

In trying times (like today), I find a good meal goes a long, long way to bolster my reserves-- if not my resources. A few weeks ago I picked up the Balthazar Cookbook; a collection of recipes from one of New York's finest French Bistros. (Do I really need to say French, if the term is Bistro?) The recipe's Maitre' D butter made the meal something extravagant and rich, and absolutely delicious.

The electric grill I picked up was necessary and welcome in the kitchen: I have a number of recipes that call for grilling meat rather than saute' or broiling; so it's a welcome addition to the kitchen.

Dinner was, in a word, superb. I feel good. Tomorrow should be that much easier... I hope.

On Firsts

2008-11-09T21:58:00.003-05:00

It's been an interesting weekend. Two firsts this weekend; one I hope to repeat soon. Well: To be fair, I'd like to do both again.

Saturday evening, I had my first taste of genuine Chinatown cuisine. The best Chinese food I have ever had. Two years in New York and I'd never been? Ludicrous! Mandarin Court on Mott st. provided sizzling oysters, beef w/ mushrooms and delicious dim sum. Simply fantastic.

As for today, I met a girl for coffee for a first date. It seemed to go fine; but I'm not sure a second date is in the cards. It's up to an ambiguous and not encouraging 'maybe'.

So yeah. There's that.

The search continues for further employment; my current temp job expires in another four weeks. I've been applying for work as a writer &/or editor with no success. Yet.

Drop me a line, folks. More to follow.

America: A Flagging Way of Life

2008-10-09T16:58:00.005-04:00

For more than two hundred years, this country has risen, fallen and risen again with the direction of certain principles. We believe in freedom and will fight tooth and nail to defend it; but fighting is a state of action. Is it our state of rest that need seeing to.

We spend. We spend. We wrap ourselves in temporary comforts to the detriment of future necessity. We had means, and reveled in excess to the point of bankruptcy. We had strength, we can gain it again. We had pride, we can be proud again. What we lack and have lacked for some time is discipline.

Nothing is free. The very establishment of this once great nation was made possible by putting ourselves in the debt of older, stronger countries. We have not repaid our debts any more than we have shown any much-deserved gratitude to our debtors. Just the opposite: We have touted ourselves as the greatest country in the world and spared no breath proclaiming it. Perhaps at one point it was true, but what now?

A nation founded by immigrants has done a great deal to show resentment, fear and self-satisfied distaste for others that would do nothing less than share our once-sterling ideals. We make targets of the French, the English, the Mexican. One needn't look further than a plate of 'Freedom Fries' to see how clouded our vision has become.

We are at a crossroads. It might be a voice of denial, stating that there is still time to turn things around-- I don't honestly know. But this country may still have time to learn some much-needed humility. Otherwise we're looking at pockets filled with nothing but a staggering pile of IOUs, hungry moths and a mountain of gold-plated hubris.

This country needs help. Our finances are in a shambles and the rest of the world's markets are beginning to quake from the ambient tremors.

I offer no solutions; I have none. I merely beg that we open our minds to exterior alternatives. Swallow some pride; ask for help before we must beg. Look what it's costing us not to.

The United States still have much to offer. But in order to accomplish anything we must find new means or starve. The reality of this looms like a threatening hurricane.

Action must be taken. We must take action or watch everything we've taken for granted fall to pieces. Look without, or be without.

Tugging on the Old Heart Strings

2008-09-29T00:55:00.003-04:00

So: Work is going alright, I'm loving my SNL writing class and I'm starting to take steps that might lead to staging my newest play. All good things. (Oh, and I've resumed applying for other jobs for when my current temp position expires.)

The economy is circling the drain; but as I'm in no position to do anything about it, I can't really worry about it. What on earth would be the point.

I'd like to date more. It's been two months now since Shawna and I stopped seeing each other. I had a lunch date two weekends ago with a nice girl named Debbie but she hasn't gotten back to me about a second date, yet. She was going on vacation...

And tonight I asked out a fellow student in the writing class. She's smart, she thinks I'm funny and oh yes, has some nice legs. I asked her to join me for coffee some time, she said 'Sure'.

I want to put myself out there. Meet people-- invigorate my social life by actually having one. It would be nice. First dates are so awkward. The muddling back and forth with conversation, the pleasant surprises and little appraisals we give each other and don't speak of.

I had an idea once for a story in which, thanks to some powerful satellite connections and globally issued implants, everyone knew everyone. Not on a deep, personal level; more like they automatically knew the type of person you were, simply by laying eyes on you. Job interviews would consist of a handshake. War would stop (or get much nastier) once folks knew who they were up against.

Ugh. First dates. I've had some truly wonderful experiences as well as evenings so tepid and/or mediocre as to make one want to scrub the brain vigorously with a Brillo pad. A necessary evil-- how else am I going to meet anyone...

Things are okay. I'm writing, I'm working, and I have a well-stocked schedule. Let's hope for more of the same in the days to come.

Ciao for now.

~Twenty-Something Manifesto~

2008-09-04T22:40:00.003-04:00

My name is Casey Jones. It has been my name most of my life. All my closest friends, my family call me thus. It is not my name. My name is Kenneth Christopher Jones. It’s who was born, it’s who graduated from college, it’s who exists on every stamped piece of paper and such. It’s who’s in my wallet.

Every so often there grows a certain crisis of identity. Like a leak in the basement; it starts off small and drips until there’s three inches of water on the floor. I forget things that are important.

Life in New York has been by no means easy. For someone of intelligence, I have made some remarkably stupid choices. While striving to succeed (or get by, even); small victories have been all the more dwarfed by more consistent reminders of things yet undone, debts yet unpaid, trails yet unforged. It is hard.

The success of my role models inspires me. The success of my peers fosters envy. My own success intoxicates me—brief and rare though it’s been.

Left to my own devices in a city where the nearest relation or long-standing friend is several hundred miles away; my bearings have been difficult to keep in focus. I lose perspective and thus momentum. I believe I have found it again.

Lately, the ego has taken considerable blows. Asking family for money is never fun; quite the opposite. Needing it, even less so. And the instinct to measure myself against my peers is a master technique in self-defeat. Seeking such a comparison accomplishes nothing but to create a feeling of helplessness. No-one can fix this but me—it’s no one else’s responsibility. I am not a machine. My value, my worth shouldn’t be measured by my accomplishments or capabilities. I strive for excellence for its own sake, for mine.

And what proof is there, so far? An unfinished book, an un-produced script. A career evidenced not so much by its presence but rather the vacuum in its place. Sunny and inspiring, isn’t it?

The truth is that with perspective; everything changes. I will be published. The contracts have been signed. I’m developing a story that has interested most people I’ve mentioned it to. That I want it to be great will help it to be at least good. I can live with that.

After nearly two years in the city, I am still only beginning to cultivate any kind of garden of contacts. Networking is a skill my brother has, as well as my best friend. Rather than accept that I don’t have it, I am trying to change that. I have a script that I want to see produced. There are people in this city that can make that happen if so inclined; so I will find them and convince them.

A career in writing, a job with Saturday Night Live is something I’ve wanted for a long time. It’s shaped my efforts for years: Becoming a sketch writer, honing my comic skills; learning how to work an audience-- all good things to master. My work as an actor has dwindled to virtually nothing (a somewhat different skill set than that of an improvising comedian); especially since moving to New York. My writing, on the other hand, has bloomed. I’m more sure of myself. I’ve finished two full-length scripts. I’ve had articles published in magazines.

Last year, I went about producing my own show in Times Square. It was expensive, and finished at a loss. I consider the cost to be cheap for the experience I earned. Well worth it.

Have I been happy? No. Miserable would be closer to the truth. Such feelings were the result of an almost crippling loss of perspective. I have a roof over my head. I am employed. I can eat what I like, when I like. I have a few creature comforts. I will strive not to lose sight of this again.

One of the worst habits I brought to New York was the indulgence of remembering someone; a woman I was convinced was the love of my life. We haven’t spoken in over a year… and that well after she married someone else. Clinging to the past and thoughts of her has been like alcohol: distracting, familiar and ultimately bad for me. If I am ever to create a genuine relationship in the present or future, I must leave her where she is: behind me. I’m finally at the point where that’s possible. Shame that it took so long.

Writing this (let alone publishing it to the web) benefits no-one but myself. The same can be said of any amateur blog in existence. Still. I’m glad to have done it, and just as glad to share.

Ciao.

Updates, etc.

2008-08-20T00:12:00.002-04:00

It's been a while since I've updated this thing. Mea culpa. I'm single again after a few-months thing with a truly wonderful girl... pity it didn't work out.

I've finished a script, Say a Prayer for Emily Hall; my first thriller. My modest entry into the world occupied by such greats as Sleuth and Deathtrap. Yeah, I couldn't find a one-word title that fit. Headgames worked for a while, but fell flat weeks ago. Moving on.

I'm... pretty alone up here. Most of my friends have full schedules/lives. My roommates are rarely home when I am. I don't know anyone in NY that I knew before I moved here. So yeah. Feeling the isolation a bit.

I have plans. The first sunday in September, I begin How to write for SNL. I've been chomping at the bit for this class to get started for a YEAR, so best believe I'm gonna be prepared. Also, I'm deadset on getting involved w/ the Naked Angels play reading group. It's a real opportunity to get my work seen. For free. That's important.

I'm gettin' by. Starting a new diet soon, whenever the stuff arrives. Revenge on the dumpee? Get hot, fast. See where things go.

Works in theory.

Be well, folks. Drop me a line. More to follow.

Tomorrow

2008-07-30T23:08:00.004-04:00

Well, here's some news: Tomorrow morning, I have a callback for Disney's Aladdin: A Music Spectacular. It's the stage version of the movie, playing in Disney Land. And the best part? I'm up for the Genie. It's the first callback I've had in quite some time; let alone for anything resembling a professional long-term gig.

If you can spare the good vibes, please send them my way tomorrow morning around ten. I can use all the spare help I can get. Not that I need it. Um. Because I'm a professional and stuff.

Yeah.

Whew

2008-07-07T00:13:00.004-04:00

I just finished Draft #2 of a script over a year in the making. My first legitimate thriller. Or drama, at least.

It's funny. (Not the script, not very.) The scene that originally inspired the whole script no longer exists. Not in its present (read: better) incarnation. Go figure. I'm delighted that so much change took place between drafts-- shows I wasn't married to the first one, that I was able to accept that things needed changing. It also helps to be friends with smart people of whom one can ask questions.

Now: I need to go back and re-work a few threads of act one, so that choices made in act two do not come as a complete surprise. Don't want to cheat the audience, after all. That wouldn't be sporting. Yes sir, changes need making. Just not tonight. I'm tapped. I'm also unlikely to forget what alterations are due to it-- not before tomorrow, leastways. Also on the to-do list? Giving the damned thing a title.

Nice way to end a three-day weekend. Finishing the script. There's a nice bit of feeling accomplished.

Sweet dreams, folks.

Take Some Time, Recharge; Get Absurd.

2008-07-06T01:37:00.003-04:00

I'm feeling charged up (at half past one) for the first time in weeks. I've been taxed by the conditions of living in the big city (the biggest) with the less attractive facets being barely able to make ends meet-- topped with a smattering of looking for more work and staying productive. Quite the parfait.

I recently discovered a trove of information on virtually every trope in fiction: plot devices, dialogue stand-bys, categorizations of characters ranging from the miniscule to the megalomaniacal. All the rules organized, indexed and catalogued. It's a wealth to pick through and I've been doing exactly that. Tonight I hit on something truly inspired in the realm of the absurd. Take actions that are outside your scope, act like they will succeed-- despite the overwhelming lack of evidence to support you-- and enjoy your success. If you succeed.

It seems absolutely revitalizing to even give it a moment's consideration. A lime-flavored smack in the face with a herring. Think about it, throw your hands in the air with a cheerful "Fuck it!" and just take a plunge.

Short of unemployment and the unattractive circumstances that would accompany it; at present it seems I have little to lose by taking a few more risks. Risks are what got me to New York in the first place. For the longest time my problem (well, one of them anyway) was that I've been holding back. Limiting what I say, limiting what I try to do, putting blinders on where I can try to go with my work, with everything. This could end up being complete candy floss, but who cares? It's what I'm feeling right now.

All any of us have are moments. Opportunities to make a decision and execute change. The status bloody quo has brought me to a place of soul-gnawing inadequacy; or at best tepid mediocrity. Temp jobs. No plays being done in months. No voice-over work. I need to be trying harder.

Okay. Sounds good. Let's do that then.

Outstanding.

Gets Me Every Time.

2008-06-27T00:47:00.003-04:00

I can't fight it. I love Ratatouille. I rented it. I saw it in the theater already, and wanted to see it again. I remember why.

Anton Ego is the most cynical, stringent food critic in Paris. He comes in at the climax for a meal, expecting nothing but mediocrity at best.

His first bite of the titular main course sends him rocketing to a childhood memory: He returns to his home with a busted bicycle and a quavering lip. At the stove stands his mother, warm with sympathy. She prepares comfort food as only a Mom can. It tugs on the heart strings. It's beautiful.

At the next table is a character voiced by Ian Holm; who confoundedly finds it delicious. And he's got experience at this: The movie was Big Night. Ian Holm is a restaurant owner competing against a smaller, better Italian gourmet across the street. He comes for their swansong meal, and takes one bite.

He pounds his fist on the table. It's the best he's ever tasted. And he can't stand it.

Outstanding.

Catchin' the Midnight Train to HELL

2008-06-16T22:11:00.009-04:00

***Doctor Who Spoilers below. Y'all have been warned.***

This past Saturday's episode, Midnight, was one of the scariest, most chilling installments in the popular British scifi show for some time. At the end of it, the good Doctor was left reeling. No smile on his face, no witty rejoinder on his lips. He'd been struck to his core, and with good reason. The Doctor was wrong.

It practically never happens. Dr. Holier-Than-Thou usually has little difficulty in remaining superior to the humans he so diligently shepherds but in this instance, he was 100% dead wrong. (Think I'm wrong about the religious complex? The Doctor has been worshipped as a divine savior twice this season.)

At 900+ years of age, his experience and savvy almost always win the day. But not for the first time this season, the Doctor was powerless to do anything about the forces of evil-- or in this case, a bloody terrifying mimic.

The Doctor has not always been the best of protagonists. His intentions are certainly honorable enough. On several occasions he's been ready to lay down his life to catalyze the happy ending, only to have someone else jump in and save him the trouble. A girlfriend from the future, a sociopathic brat with a sudden attack of conscience; even his own daughter. One of the best episodes of last season, Blink, hardly featured him at all. His interaction with the real hero boiled down to this: "I'm buggered something serious, come and rescue me."

In times past, the Doctor has been charismatic, enigmatic and admittedly a coward in the face of real danger; his modus operandi has been to run away until he could come up with a plan which has always involved talking his way through the crisis with villains who had little reason not to ex-ter-mi-nate him. (Granted, if they did, there'd be no show.) But that didn't stop him from facing the challenge of his life in Midnight.

The Doctor was stranded in the middle of nowhere on a deadly planet with no Companion, no TARDIS and certainly no friends. His only company was a group of tourists who had zero tolerance for the kind of freaky $#!t that the Doctor faced on a weekly basis.

Week after week, the Doctor's steadfast belief in doing the right thing and talking things through has either saved the day or (often as not) inspired someone else to do it for him.

After an incident kills two crewmates, a passenger is possessed by a sort of living echo that gradually builds in power until it eclipses the Doctor's ability to talk at all. He's left in the thrall of a chilling, hungry-eyed creature that could swallow his personality whole; if the background music is any indication of his fate.

Trapped in a cramped mini-bus in a stew of growing paranoia, talking was the last thing he should have done. His noble efforts to communicate with Ms. Echo only made her stronger, to the point that she took him over. The terror in his eyes was as much a tribute to David Tennant's acting as it was to the Doctor's shortcomings.

Prior to the climax, the human beings with whom he was trapped had reached the conclusion that the possessed woman should be thrown out of the vehicle; a move that would have killed her and solved their problems. The Doctor objected and played right into Ms. Echo's hands. The panicking humans were ready to throw him to his doom after Ms. Echo cleverly pretended to recover as he got worse. Only two women unafraid to think for themselves were able to save him-- by throwing Ms. Echo out first.

The brutal act-first-and-feel-guilty-later mentality that he railed so strongly against ended up saving his life. What was his reaction? What did the Doctor say after the crisis had passed?

Nothing. He screwed up and he knew it. Someone was doomed the moment Ms. Echo was possessed. And the kicker? Only a Time Lord would have indulged her to the point that she could gain power.

If it had been a Dalek, or a Sontaran or any of a number of other, harsher species (humans included); they'd have discovered something was wrong and eliminated the threat with swift action. Pacifism flatly failed. The Doctor knew it, and was crushed.

Score one for us dumb humans.

Well.

2008-06-08T23:48:00.003-04:00

This is as good a time as any to muse on things. Sunday nights have been pretty rough-- they just seem to be the nights that I get extra-caught up in matters that are no longer (if they ever were) in my control.

Things are bad. My career is going nowhere; I'm not making ends meet. I'd say I'm living from paycheck to paycheck but even that might be pushing it.

Lord. I need help, I need change. If it's coming or on its way, I can't see it.

Just keep your fingers crossed, people.

Lord.

Once Was Lost, Now Am Found

2008-05-30T09:16:00.001-04:00

Okay: There is brilliance, and there is brilliance. Then there is McSweeney's. It's f*cking brilliant.

Losties, enjoy.

Contributing Factors.

2008-05-28T00:35:00.002-04:00

Well. It's been a heck of a week or two. Let's stick to the shop talk for now. I recently finished the first draft of Head Games. I was thrilled, I was exuberant, I was pleased with myself. I sent it to a few friends for their appraisal and the response has been unanimous; more or less. It needs work.

On the road this weekend for several hours, I found time to give the first act a once-over with a red pen and made some notes; aware on some level that the changes I was scratching down to implement later were largely superficial. Cosmetic. They wouldn't fix the underlying structural issues; they wouldn't fix the second act.

Tonight, it may have come to me. Something came to me, whether or not it ends up being any good remains to be seen; but that's why we save in drafts and don't just scrap what we've come up with previously.

Partly to thank was seeing the movie The Comfort of Strangers tonight. (Chris Walken at his creepiest. I couldn't tell if he was trying to do an Italian accent or not. Anyway. Good flick.) It opened my eyes to some interesting couple dynamics.

I'm going to give Head Games an overhaul. Dramatically (heh heh) alter the script. New arc, an added character. Steal a trick from Proof and weave in a scene or two from the past. I feel as if I may have been holding back before. This new draft will be even more complex, more convoluted, and hopefully more satisfying. I also hope that it will sound more like I wrote it. No more holding back. If the new draft sucks; I can always go back in and try again.

That's the news on Head Games. Other scripts of mine are getting some attention, and not from me. Yellow Brick Monologues will be produced in Maryland in the summer of 2009; if all goes well. Dead & Breakfast will be read through here in New York in time to possibly be put up for Halloween.

We'll see! I'm not counting chickens... For now I'm just watchin' em cluck.

Still. It feels great to be working on things. Truly great.

Brilliant.

2008-05-23T01:20:00.003-04:00

I'd just like to point out. Lost. The Shape of Things To Come: Claire, whose survival of a house exploding has caused some debate, utters "I'm a bit wobbly but I'll live." Miles takes one look at her and says "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

Miles. Who, before coming to the island, made a living talking to dead people.

The Island is screwed up as it is. Dead people pop up like weeds. No reason I see to exclude the possibility that Claire's just joined them.

Brilliant stuff. Can't wait to see what happens next.

The Comic Art of Cliffdropping, Part 1

2008-05-22T09:38:00.007-04:00

*Spoilers, aha, below.*

Once again, DC Comics has demonstrated why it's such a great place to exist: Though the crime rate may suck, (High security asylums can't keep tabs on crooks worth a damn) it still beats the real world. Why, you ask? You don't have to be Jesus to come back from the dead!

Stephanie Brown, aka the Spoiler (and briefly, Robin the 4th); is alive again. According to the lady herself, she was never dead to begin with. That sure is a load off.

So: I'm reminded of a plot device as old as Scheherazade: The cliffhanger. Ms. 1,001 Tales ensured a stay of execution by keeping her captor a captive audience by ending each story in suspense. He couldn't kill her because he wanted to know what happened next. Brilliant. Thomas Hardy published a serial novel and used the same device to ensure readership stayed healthy; literally ending a chapter on a cliffside.

That's great. Suspense is a wonderful thing. But that's not what's happening in comics. They're not using cliffhangers-- they're employing cliffdroppers. That's what makes it so annoying.

How annoying, you ask? Well, I've put together a scale to determine the exact level of egregiousness-- how bad the crime against a consistent, accurate narrative really is.

With a score of 0; we have the time-honored tradition of killing someone off and have someone else take up the mantle. No laws of time and space have been broken. Happened to Captain America, Blue Beetle and Abomination; it happened to Batman (when his back was broken) and Green Lantern (when he went batshit). It's actually respectful, in a way.

Unfortunately it only goes down from there. Down, way down, to the bottom of the cliff. Splat.

The Comic Art of Cliffdropping, Part 2

2008-05-22T09:30:00.000-04:00

Okay. This entry's too long not to have paragraph breaks. Otherwise it's an eyesore. So. Picking up where we left off; the negative scale of cliffdropping-- like a cliffhanger; only the character in jeopardy dies and is then resurrected. Lame.

-1: A character is killed and brought back in the following issue. Kill 'em dead gone dead; and the alien / mystic equivalent of CPR delivers them back to the land of the living in no time.
Examples: Cyclops did it. The corpse hasn't even had time to grow cold. Everyone saw it coming. Give 'em a slap on the wrist.

-2: A character is killed, they're acknowledged as dead (it helps when there's a body) and another character goes about the very difficult task of bringing them back to life. Usually takes at least an issue or two. The impossible becomes merely... very tricky.
Examples: The White Queen, as a living diamond (okay) was shattered. Hank McCoy spent several days putting the pieces back together and Jean Grey zapped 'em. Where were they when Humpty Dumpty needed them?

-3: A character (usually a villain) is killed or at least shown not leaving a deathtrap situation and return some time later with a very weak explanation.
Examples: Baron Zemo survived falling into a volcano because he was wearing a magma-proof costume. Doc Ock survived an island-destroying nuclear explosion because his appendages shielded him. Doctor Doom was actually a robot-- a lot.

-4: A character (usually the Joker) is put in a deadly position, shown not leaving and comes back without a scratch or an explanation. They just have nine hundred lives. It's accepted as fact.
Examples: My favorite one? The Joker's fleeing in a helicopter. He's shot in the chest with an automatic rifle, at which point the chopper crashes into the ocean and explodes. A similar exit on a speedboat (that exploded) prompted the Commish to ask Batman, "Do you think he's really gone?" The Dark Knight's reply: "In my heart of hearts, I doubt it." Good call, Bats.

-5: A character is killed and acknowledged as dead, then brought back several months later. It doesn't matter if they're given a reason or not-- the extra negative point is for when they make it An Event. Punctuating the death of the character only to wuss out later... bad form.
Examples: Death of Superman, Death of Green Lantern, Death of Spider-Man. Death of Captain America-- Oh. Wait. He's still dead. For now.

-6: A character is killed and acknowledged as dead (a funeral, the works) and brought back years if not decades later.
Examples: Jason Todd and Bucky... whatever his last name is. What is it about scrappy domino-mask wearing sidekicks that makes them come back from the dead and become bad-asses?

Colossus deserves a special mention-- He was resurrected and he didn't want to be. An otherwise tired plot device finds a little gravitas.

-7: A character is killed and acknowledged as dead and it's later revealed that they never died in the first place.
Examples: Norman Osborn, Stephanie Brown.

Osborn's lame 11th hour 'healing factor' aside, the Spoiler's return goes very much against the grain. The "replaced her with a drug user who overdosed" thing could have worked if not for a few things. Such as, she was dead. Batman identified the body. The world's greatest detective is standing two feet from the body of his partner and he can't tell that it's somebody else? This isn't A Tale of Two Cities. Stephanie appeared in the afterlife. Her ghost appeared to Batgirl on two occasions. A neat trick for someone who's not actually dead.

Oy.

I know I'm complaining. It sounds a lot like whining. But Stephanie's return... breaks the rules. It says "Hey! Ignore what we said before. Look over here at what's shiny. Continuity, schmontinuity." If earlier parts of the story can be dismissed as unimportant or simply wrong; it cheapens what remains. Publishers sell comics by getting you to care about the story. The more they screw with things, the less I care. Quite a stink to raise over a comic book.

Anyway. In poignant opposition to this debacle is Alexandra DeWitt. The original Woman in the Refrigerator. She's dead. She's stayed dead, so far. With all due respect, I hope she stays that way. Rayner's faced temptation from two or three sources that offered to resurrect DeWitt; and he turned them down because he knew it was wrong.

Huh. I think he may be on to something, there.

Just Peachy, Thanks For Asking

2008-05-21T14:24:00.001-04:00

At the risk of sounding maudlin; rain on a day like today seems like hemorrhoids on a cancer patient.

It's just overkill.

A Real Record Breaker

2008-05-16T13:10:00.002-04:00

I cannot remember the last time I felt this bad without heartbreak being involved. I'm so miserable right now I feel like I could vomit. Not an exaggeration. Actual nausea.

I've been on a waiting list for writing classes for months, now. Specifically, How To Write For SNL. (If you don't know what SNL is, you have no business reading this blog.) I have been a fan of that show since I was twelve. Fantasies of starring on (or being in any way involved with) it were part of the reason I moved up here: To chase those dreams.

The minute I heard about the class, I knew I wanted in. It was sold out at the time. Today my inbox held a bombshell: the class is being offered again.

The timing could not be worse. It could, however, be better. If I'd gotten this information, say, three weeks from now, I would be able to sign up for the class, paid in full. But I heard about it today. Can't afford it. Not even close.

I hold no illusions that taking the class would pave the way to working on Saturday Night Live. But at least I would know how to apply. My writing would potentially be in better shape. I'd have a better direction in which to push myself. I've been here over a year and my direction has been almost non-existant.

I'm a bit angry with myself. If I were better with money, I wouldn't be in the mess I'm in now. I'm livid. I could sign up for the damned class and that'd be the end of it.

I have no idea when the class will be offered again. Probably in another few months. There's no guarantees. No promises.

Yes, it occurred to me to ask to borrow the money; but I won't. I can't. I've already tapped family enough in times of emergency; as important as this is to me it isn't actually vital to anything. I hate borrowing money for serious things; there's no away I'd do it for icing.

Damn it. Damn it. I'll get over it. Writing this out helps somewhat. Still. Damnation.

Oh yeah. I am sterling company right now.

The Superb Villainy of Obadiah Stane

2008-05-15T16:17:00.003-04:00

***Iron Man Spoilers Below, You've been warned.***

Let's face it; any hero is only as good as the villain he fights. (What would Peter Pan be without Captain Hook? Bored, that's what.) A protagonist hoping for superhero status requires an archenemy likewise up to the challenge. For your consideration, I submit the near-perfection of villainy that is Obadiah Stane in Marvel Studio's Iron Man.

At the film's start, Tony Stark is a carefree womanizing narcissist, more devoted to his own hobbies than work or social obligations. The man arrives late to a sales meeting with the army. He respects no-one. He's a tool. Granted, a cool one. He has charm and wit, he shares his toys/stewardesses with abandon; but he's still a tool.

One terrorist blitz later, the focus of his entire life dramatically shifts. His eyes are opened. He's not back in town ten minutes before he takes his business and his life by the reins. Necessity is the mother of invention (and what an invention), but without the catalyst, Stark would have gone on blissfully, irresponsibly ignorant.

Enter Obadiah. Father figure, business partner, snappy dresser; Stane inadvertantly engineers the birth of Iron Man when he takes out a contract on Stark in Afghanistan. Without Stane, there is no story.

While the same can be said of any good antagonist; take a closer look at Stane's technique. He hits all the points of archetypal villainy and he does so with panache.

What's his motivation in the first place? Greed. Understandable, but Stane is already rich. He co-runs Stark Industries, which has afforded him every luxury. The magnificent bastard wants even more of the pie when he's already stuffed.

The man has class, he delivers bad news with pizza. From New York. He's hands-on with his schemes: He calls Stark minutes before the Afghanistan ambush to ensure his victim's in place.

A good villain is still human. He has a vulnerable side. Stane's violent exasperation over the fact that his best engineers can't re-create Stark's masterpiece is wonderfully telling.

Stane's status as lifelong friend to gullible Tony only makes the betrayal that much sweeter. That he creeps into Stark's home and ala Claudius pours poison in his ear (so to speak) displays his flair for the dramatic. And like any good villain, he monologues-- as he's literally prying the life out of Stark's chest, no less. Outstanding.

He has his vices, like drinking at work. During his scene with Pepper Potts, he is visibly inebriated. Not merely drinking, drunk. Kudos to Jeff Bridges for playing it convincingly: His speech is over-enunciated, his body language is forcedly aloof. Well done.

Henchmen? Check. Halfway around the world, Stane can arrange a wet-works team to escort him to the camp of the Ten Rings, and casually order the execution of a dozen men or more. He engages the services of a terrorist organization, then liquidates them without batting an eye. Evil!

So: what's left for a comic book bad guy to do? Put the damsel in distress? Check. Pepper's life is in danger from the moment he realizes she's downloading his secrets for Tony.

Back to the hero/villain dichotomy, the bad guy must be on the hero's same platform. In this case? Armored rich guy vs. Armored rich guy. Stane's suit is just bigger, stronger and better-armed. Much better armed.

When the chips are down and it's time for the last act of a desperate man, Stane delivers. Why? Pepper Potts spells it out in one simple sentence: "He's gone crazy." Couldn't have put it better myself. Putting civilians in danger, launching rockets and mini-gun rounds on the streets of Los Angeles; and delivering pithy one-liners.

Finally, I have to salute any supervillain that cannot be beaten by his opponent alone. Watch it again: Stark is bruised, battered and out of juice when Stane is taking his time to blow Stark to smithereens. The Iron Monger has beaten Iron Man soundly, and his tone at this point is dismissive; as one would address a bee about to be swatted. "Stand still, ya little prick." It's Pepper that saves the day and sends Stane to that big Iron Forge in the cellar.

To review: Obadiah Stane may be one of the best comic book movie villains to come along in a very long time. He's intelligent, he's direct and he's not afraid to get his hands dirty. He is Iron Man's equal in many ways and where he isn't; he steals what he needs to level the playing field. Short of actually winning in the end, I can't think of how he could improve his performance-- or Bridges', for that matter.

Well done. Well done.

Go Figure.

2008-05-15T15:24:00.002-04:00

I find myself in a funk, today. For no particular reason; I am in a funk. Can't explain it.

I don't have a great deal to complain about. Money's okay (not great, but okay), Shawna's doing well at work, I'm employed for at least another two months; hell, I'm even getting some writing done. It's off-putting to be feeling a bit low for no discernable reason.

I haven't been to the gym in a while-- something I'm going to rectify tonight. Part of me hopes it's as simple as blowing off some steam.

The last voice-over gig I had was a week ago; the first in months. A good friend up here is getting into VOs herself; I hope to ply here for contact info while the getting is good-- she's taking classes and speaks highly of the trainer/agent. No idea why it's worth mentioning but there it is.

What is this? Boredom? Ennui? Something I'm not facing? I have no idea. True flotsam of the mind. Well. At least there's truth in advertising.

A Minor Feat

2008-05-07T23:20:00.006-04:00

I have just finished a new script. One that's been sitting on the back burner for months.

I love a good script. Discovering Sleuth in college was one of the better moments from that period (so what does that tell you about college?). I later fell in love w/ Deathtrap for the same reasons: Both scripts are damned clever, very witty and riddled with credible twists-- provided one suspends his disbelief. I've wanted to write a similar script ever since.

Head Games is my attempt in the genre. It's not brilliant but it'll do.

Anyway. My first finished script in a while that doesn't break the fourth wall or depend on source material to stand alone. I loved writing Yellow Brick Monologues but at best it's an extrapolation on Wizard of Oz. So. There that is.

I have to give credit where credit is due. Spending time with Shawna has been very relaxing, and... stimulating at the same time. Maybe she got the creative juices flowing. Who knows. In any case, I'm grateful. I hadn't touched the script in a few months and two weeks ago I picked up where I left off and now it's finished. That feels pretty damned good.

Okay, I'm done. Have a good night, folks. Be well.

A Strange Source For Relevant Insight

2008-04-28T10:57:00.005-04:00

With a smidge of spare time this weekend (between social obligations, trying to write and spending time w/ Shawna) I finished off The Tick live-action series, courtesy of Hulu. The show is silly, very pointless, and fun. I maintain that the cartoon was better, but the live-action show has its merits.

One of them came the 3rd-to-final episode. Arthur and the Tick are in court prosecuting Destroyo, an iron-clad supervillain they apprehended in a parking lot after accidentally rear-ending him w/ the Batmanuelle-mobile. (That's a mouthful.)

The case doesn't start well. Destroyo is his own legal counsel and quickly invalidates the nuclear weapons found in his trunk as inadmissable; as they were found without a proper warrant. Slick guy, Destroyo.

The Tick is rapidly found in contempt of court until it occurs to him to break out: Being super-strong, the prison bars give way to the Tick like wet Kleenex.

Anyway. The reason this exercise in court farce is being mentioned is the following: Arthur, ever level-headed, does some digging into Destroyo's past and finds his Achilles' heel. He gives the following speech on the stand.

"Have I led a full life... That's a good question. I've tried to, but we can't do everything, can we. An old man told me a story once, about a little boy that loved nothing more than to dance. Well-- except maybe between-meal snacks. That little boy had a choice, like we all do. Follow our dreams, or indulge the bad habits that make those dreams impossible?"

That speech cut me to the quick. Not for Destroyo's indulgence in sweets. My own sweet-tooth only occasionally rears its ugly... tooth. But bad habits? Making one's dreams impossible?

New York is an expensive city in which to live. That has been one of the most sobering lessons I've learned in my short tenure here. And while I've been spendthrift in the past, Manhattan and its surrounding burroughs have frankly bled me dry and then some.

My best friend, Chris aka Pedro; is very much like the Ant. He's smart, he's frugal and he has a plan. Compared to him I am very much the Grasshopper.

I'm trying to do better. Truly. Nevertheless you would be amazed at how easy it is to forget yourself, come payday. So; that's the bad habit. The dream? Putting my shows up in New York.

Oh, certainly I still have ambitions of being on stage again; but that particular fate is at the whim of casting agents and directors. Putting a show on (again) would be in my control. Sort of. One of the things keeping that from happening would be a complete lack of funds. I'm working on it, and likewise tracking down non-personal funding of a non-loan variety, this time. Being a bit smarter about it. Thank goodness for networking.

However, to be frank, putting my shows up is scarcely the only ambition hindranced by a lack of funds. There are classes I'd like to take, for which I am on waiting lists; that I presently cannot afford. The comic book I'm writing and producing will also require money. Discipline. That iron-spined word that seems so damned elusive, sometimes. Getting these things is going to require discipline.

I'm reading a book on loan from Shawna. I, Lucifer, by Glen Duncan. Striking concept; the Devil tells his side of the story and gets a movie deal out of it. (The actual film, starring Daniel Craig, is in the pipeline.) I'm a good bit into the book so far; and the one accomplishment of which Old Scratch is proudest is this: Establishing the bond between bad behavior and pleasure. Instant gratification, breaking the rules; doing what you shouldn't feels good. And thus was born Sin. Jerk.

Would I be so very deep in the red if it wasn't a fun trip down? Would ice cream be so popular (despite its fatty content) if it didn't taste so good? Foolish questions posed by a fool parted from his money.

So. There that is.

You're Killin' Me, Here

2008-04-25T14:03:00.005-04:00

***Spoilers Below for Lost and Battlestar Galactica. You've been warned.***

I caught drift of last night's Lost. In it, the comely young woman, Alex, is held at gunpoint in an attempt to gain leverage over Ben, whom I'm going to start calling the Father of Lies. The guy's a total bastard. Anyway. Bluffing (or one hopes he's bluffing, if he has a shred of humanity to him), he berates Alex as meaning nothing to him; she was little more than a pawn.

Heartbreaking words to hear from your adoptive dad, especially if they're the last thing you ever hear. Alex dies on her knees with a bullet in her skull.

And with that, a supporting female character whose usefulness has come to its apex is brusquely shown the door.

In comics, we call this Women in Refrigerators Syndrome. The character is killed for very little reason; other than to incite the corpse's loved one (aka the protagonist) into action. Their headstone becomes a stepping stone for the plot.

This sort of writing bothers me. It seems unnecessary-- for one thing, there are so many more interesting ways to hurt a character than merely knocking them off-- and an easy way out of having to write for them any longer. I don't like it.

The exact same thing happened to Cally Tyrol last week on Battlestar Galactica. Wife of a recently-realized Cylon; Cally has been sleeping badly and has been growing more paranoid by the day. She ultimately decides to take a walk in space with her hybrid child Nicky. She is stopped at the threshold by another Cylon-in-hiding; and lulled into giving up her child. She does this. It's a poignant, emotionally significant moment that could show Cally still has some marbles and lights a candle of hope that the cylons aren't all bastards.

You literally could not say that sentence out loud (for lack of time) between the moment the baby is safe and the bitchsmack that sends Cally flying. Dazed and confused, she only gathers her wits in time to realize she's doomed and blown out an airlock.

What's this teach us? That some characters are doomed to abuse? In her fictional history, Cally was almost sexually assaulted, placed under arrest, beaten savagely by accident, and exposed to naked, empty space. Twice.

Back to Alex for a minute? Sure thing. The poor girl's death was textbook for unnecessary. If we were looking for an excessively violent gesture to show the mercenaries meant business, they demonstrated that at the end of the episode prior when they wiped out some other characters that had outlived their usefulness (but not by much).

There are other less timely examples, but why belabor the point. I will, however, offer a counterpoint.

I'm writing a comic book miniseries in which some truly awful things happen to the undeserving: namely, superheroes. I was telling Shawna about one such character and her trials; and Shawna said something fascinating. "Wow. You really love your characters." It was meant without sarcasm. I realized she was right.

I do have a great fondness for my characters. If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to inflict such exacting torment; let alone stick around in the narrative to watch them get better.

I don't know. I'm not claiming to have any great point, here.

I just hate to see good material go to waste.

Missed Opportunities

2008-04-24T15:17:00.004-04:00

As it's been previously mentioned, I have a twin. His name is Jordan and he lives on the west coast. We walk alike, we talk alike: You could lose your mind. My improv team, Start Trekkin' (aka the friends we have in common), is soon taking a trip to California. In the course of their trip they will no doubt run into my doppelganger.

Finances being what they are; I cannot afford to join them. I feel this is something of a mixed blessing. At least from a selfish point of view. Think about it. This way they get to have time w/ Jordan and re-affirm the whole "OMG we know someone exactly like you in New York" thing. Also, I can milk the gag that they've never seen the two of us in the same place simultaneously; thus sustaining the half-baked notion that we could be the same person. Heh heh.

Also, this allows me to retain my illusions a bit longer. For the same reason that one should never meet their heroes; I know that an actual encounter w/ my counterpart couldn't live up to the hype. The anticipation is greater than the event itself could possibly be. This is the truth.

Don't get me wrong, it'd be a total kick to shake hands w/ the guy and size each other up. Still-- the notion of such an unholy rendezvous still outshines the reality of it.

At least that's what I tell myself. The more fanciful portion of my brain can't help but thank my lucky stars that I'm not going, just in case. I wouldn't want to end up:

A) ceasing to exist. Come on, did you see Timecop??
B) beheading him in righteous combat w/ swords and a lightshow; during which I absorb his life-essence. There can be only one.
C) identifying one of us as a clone of the other, thereby delegating one of us to secondary citizen status forever.
D) tipping the scales of the world and causing untold destruction. The saying "This town isn't big enough for the two of us" came from somewhere, after all.
E) popping into whatever sucky alternate universe one of us escaped in order to get to this one.

I don't find any of those particularly appealing. Besides-- there's no way to guarantee he has the other half of this mystical golden amulet...

Anyway. Some food for thought. Ciao for now, folks.

Love & Circumstance

2008-04-16T17:03:00.004-04:00

I recently found out that two good friends of mine, a couple; have broken up. It wasn't over any fight, infidelity or strong disagreement. Simply put, their lives are taking separate paths. One person wishes to leave New York, the other wants to stay. It's as gentle and (for lack of a better word) friendy a break-up as I've ever heard of.

Never the less: Shit.

I find myself thinking about what they're going through. What they're feeling. I've been in remarkably similar circumstances, myself. It was college, and we were very much in love. I was graduating, she had a few years left; and she didn't want me to stay bound to a college town when my life was leading me elsewhere. Also an agreeable, 'friendly' break-up. It hurt like hell.

So, ultimately, what's more important? What we do in life, or who we do it with? The couple in question was one of the happiest I've ever seen, or been lucky enough to know. It didn't stop them from wisely acknowledging that happy as their love life was, career-wise the situation was unfulfilling.

I don't know. I'll be the first to get on a soapbox and proclaim that what you do, your passion in life, is important. Your happiness is dependant on it. Across the street is another soapbox I'll happily mount to shout that a life enhanced by a successful career can seem quite empty without the right person to share it with.

It was hard enough leaving Maryland and loved ones behind to come up to New York. I couldn't imagine how difficult it would have been if I'd been romantically involved with someone at the time; someone that didn't also have plans in the Big Apple.

People choose. Beyond the present and a span of a few years, people choose. They choose their career and throw themselves wholly into its pursuit, its achievment. Do they become successful? Do they harbor regret?

Others choose love, and eventually family. Do they feel the seemingly unanswerable call to do other things?

How lucky they must be that find both. A partner one can share their heart with; and pursue parallel or at least non-opposing dreams. I count my brother as one of the lucky ones. He has a family, he has a career; and the career of his wife, Maggie, in no way opposes his own and vice-versa.

An ex of mine married a man in a profession very similar to her own. So much so that they have been able to even travel and find meaningful work together. Damned lucky.

Learning about my good friends has set my brain bubbling. Re-evaluating. Now I'm here: Beginning something with a girl whose career ambitions in no way resemble my own. I'm keen to see where this goes.

If you're reading this, I'd be delighted to hear your thoughts on the matter. Anyone? Thoughts? Comments? Theories and philosophies?

More to follow.

Fancy That...

2008-04-15T15:59:00.002-04:00

I was a member of E-Harmony for a full year; and never got as far as a second date w/ anyone I met through the site. I'm a member of the Onion Personals for ten minutes and someone writes me that I immediately hit it off with. That would be Shawna.

Funny world. After a year of looking for something to have in common w/ the right person, a woman pops up out of the woodwork that could not be a more pleasant surprise. She's smart (smarter than me), she's driven, she has a very cool job in journalism and she's as tall as I am. We like the same author. She's a longtime fan of Buffy, The West Wing and oh yes-- beer.

We've had three dates so far; the last of which consisted of late night sushi in Manhattan. Probably a New York cliche', but if you think I'm complaining... well. Take my word for it that I am not.

I feel inordinately lucky. I also feel pretty calm about the whole thing. In the past, when newly met with someone with real potential, my eagerness to laud her praises was a barometer for over-reaction. Butterflies would plague my stomach. Now?

I don't know where this is going. Neither does she. What we do know is that we enjoy one-another's company. We make each other laugh. That's a damned good start to whatever's going to happen.

On a completely different note, I've burrowed into a Shakespeare-reading group, and am learning that most hallowed of skills: Networking. I had a great chat w/ one of the heads of our little round table, and he's pointed me in a hopeful direction to secure funding for future productions for Maker's Muse. More on that as it develops.

Be well, folks.

A Little Sensory Input

2008-04-08T09:39:00.002-04:00

It's bright and early and I've scarfed down breakfast-- the same breakfast I've had at work for the last few weeks; and I've get to get tired of it. Cantaloupe and coffee. Strong coffee. The flavors compliment one another quite nicely.

Speaking of complimenting flavors, I had Mark and Laura over for dinner last night, and the dish du jour was Thai Steak w/ Peanut Sauce. Mark, who doesn't cook, liked it so much he asked for the recipe.

The peanut sauce is dead simple. Take 2 tablespoons of peanut butter and microwave it for 20 seconds to liquify. Then mix in 2 tablespoons Kikkoman's Teriyaki and stir, adding in red peppers (the kind you can shake onto pizza). A pinch goes a long way.

As for the steak, I brush it w/ the same kikkoman and a healthy slice of onion (also brushed), then broil it for nine to eleven minutes for medium rare. Delicious.

Anyway. Have a good day, folks. Back to the grindstone.

What A Day.

2008-04-01T00:20:00.002-04:00

I have had quite a damn day. Some good, some long, some just stressful. The important thing is, I'm starting to catch up. FINALLY, I'm starting to catch up.

Work was work; following an absolutely wonderful weekend. Getting to Jersey was ever the hassle, increasedly so by the PATH card issues of getting the damn thing to work. It does now, which is the important thing.

My computer is back in working shape (thank you Trevor for picking it up) and missing only the least important of files. Putting my itunes library back in order will be interesting and boringly time consuming.

Then, something interesting. Something light. A phone call from an old NY friend prompts if I have plans tonight. None. Would I like to play Malvolio in Twelfth Night. Heck yes. It's a random assortment of actors and actresses, and we just read the play. It was a hoot, and a wholly pleasant surprise.

Then back to reality. Slow subway trains, and the return to the apartment; during which I prayed. Earnestly. I begged God for a little slack, a little financial help. Money has been and remains tight-- and likely to remain so.

This week the rent is due and between that and the expenses of computer repair, I am flailing around for a much-needed paddle.

I returned to the house, wondering what I was going to do; and there sitting in the mail slot was a cheque from ToyFare magazine. Payment for an article I wrote three months ago. Payment apparently double what it was arranged to be.

The timing could not be better. Honestly. I am depositing that cheque first thing tomorrow and good lord will the coffers be grateful. My theory for the inflated payment is the extra work required (and multiple interviews) to nail down the material for the article. Who knows? I am NOT complaining.

I'm grateful. Just... grateful. Okay. Off to bed.

Wonderful Weekend For A Wedding

2008-03-31T13:51:00.000-04:00

I’ll admit, patience has never been one of my strong suits. Over the past few years I’ve gotten better (I think) at containing myself when it came to things for which I had to wait: audition results, a reply from a girlfriend and so on.

Today, I’m waiting on two separate-yet-equal items of importance. The first, the material; is my computer. Repairs are done and it’s ready for pick-up. My roommate who does not work during the day generously agreed to retrieve it for me; I can’t afford to take off work. Whether or not he can get to it today is something I’m not sure of; but I’m not about to nag him after it, either. I hate waiting.

Item the second: I met someone at the wedding. A charming redhead who is close friends with my cousin. We had a fantastic time together. I’d like to call her. I’m going to, after I get off work; just to see how she’s doing and if she’d entertain thoughts of seeing me again. (No, I’m not going to phrase it that way to her.) It’s been the requisite two-to-three days since I saw her; lord knows I can’t seem over-eager. Of course, the mere mention of it here sort of betrays my zeal. Ah well.

I like her. She likes me. It’s the first time that sort of thing has happened to me in quite some time. So there that is. Anyway. Have a good day, all. Any suggestions on acquiring patience would be, as always, welcome.

Balls.

2008-03-24T16:30:00.002-04:00

I finally heard from the computer shop-- repairs, parts and labor will run upwards of $500.

Shit.

I'm over a barrel, I need my computer to work. It's that simple.

In any case; damn, damn, damn.

Damn.

Mind The Gap

2008-03-24T12:21:00.002-04:00

It's been quite a spell since my last post; partly because I've been without a computer at home for the last week. Still, lots to catch up on.

I'm on the waiting list for some very promising writing classes at the PIT-- more than one person I mentioned this to had similar responses to my own: Why didn't I do this sooner? The classes in question would be perfect for my comedic writing, and possibly lead to future work. Never hurts to network. Regardless, I'm enjoying the surge of writing energy. It feels like I've been drafting sketches left and right, and have a list of others to follow up on. Shazam.

Financially things have been a bit strained of late, but that's hardly anything new. Just have to keep on keepin' on...

My roommate and I enjoy a competitive streak of chess matches. We're more or less evenly matched, he crushes me with humiliating defeats about as often as I return the favor. Yesterday, we played two games and won one apiece. He was eager to break the tie. I asked him if he'd prefer losing to keeping the score tied at one-all. He said yes. Obligingly, I kicked his butt.

I made the usual holiday calls yesterday to friends and family. Other than baking a pie, that was as close to 'doing something special' as I got. Can't win 'em all.

Lastly, I am happy to announce that my cousin, Kat, is getting married this Friday. I'm heading down to Maryland to attend. The weekend will continue w/ family and friends I haven't seen in far too long. Can't wait.

Keep your fingers crossed on my laptop's well being, it likely won't be cheap to get fixed. Damn.

Cheers, folks. More to follow.

Go Figure

2008-03-05T17:09:00.002-05:00

I have no idea what the differences are, but today has gone significantly better than yesterday. As far as work is concerned, at any rate.

Yesterday, I could barely keep my eyes open, downing cup after cup of coffee, and part of me was practically begging 5:30 to arrive.

Today, I've had the same amount of sleep as yesterday, but am doing worlds better. I'm doing the exact same type of work but am not minding it nearly as much. I don't get it.

I'm not complaining, but I don't get it.

Go figure.

...

2008-02-29T00:39:00.002-05:00

Fourteen months, twenty days. That's how long I've been in the Big Apple.

I'll be the first to admit that lately I've been in a consistently crummy mood. Granted, there have been things to be crummy about, but they shouldn't (and shouldn't be allowed) to get in the way of the bigger picture.

I put a show in Times Square. My comic is going to be published. I've made friends, here. None of those things would be possible if I hadn't made the move happen.

It's been expensive, terribly so, to get and stay here; but I have to believe that it will be worth it. The cost, both financial and personal. Even now I remember friends and a comfortable life I left behind...

Do I miss doing shows in Maryland? Absolutely. I was getting good parts, regularly. I was even being asked to audition. Hell, I was even offered a part once or twice. Nothing of the kind has occurred here. My work, such as it is, has been of an entirely different nature.

Rather than seek out plays to perform in, my attention has been more on producing original stuff. Improvising. Making that which is new. That feels good. Better than I've realized lately, with my head stuffed up my tuchus.

I've been out of touch. Lost in my own frankly depressing thoughts. And that's fine. It's part of the process. It led me *here*. Tonight, at least, I feel good. I feel better than good.

Here's hoping it lasts for a bit.

On Writing

2008-02-25T00:20:00.003-05:00

It's no secret that I'm a writer. I occasionally even manage to produce something of merit. Hell, my comic is getting published (sooner or later) and a show I put on Times Square brought in a decent dollar amount for a first-time effort.

And something that helped in the writing process? Having someone in mind for the part. Finishing Yellow Brick Monologues, or rather, fleshing it out, involved writing more for the Wicked Witch of the West. I was able to do that after meeting the actress that would eventually play her.

The same goes, in a sense, for the comic. One of the main supporting roles is played (in my head) by good friend and Loose Poisonous Viper, Laura. It helps form her dialogue.

As for my newest script (which is nowhere near done), I've been writing once again w/ Chrysten in mind. The story calls for an intelligent, attractive young woman; which she is. The character also goes a bit mad in the end if I can work it right, and I've seen her pull off some beautiful wickedness. I don't think batshit would be too much of a stretch. Heh.

Anyway. Even with the Oscars on tonight (congrats Tilda Swinton! Congrats Diablo Cody!) I managed to finally eke out Act One, Scene Two. It's a good continuation. Plenty left to do, not that it'll get done tonight.

Still-- that's what is on my brain at present. Thought I'd share.

On Nostalgia

2008-02-21T10:32:00.003-05:00

Word is getting around that Lindsay Lohan did a recent pictorial tribute to Marilyn Monroe-- at the behest of the original photographer. As I understand it, she used the same poses (including a blonde wig), the same frilly handkerchief thingies, the same backdrop.

It got me thinking about nostalgia; and my generation's seeming obsession with it. If our entertainment is any yardstick, we're positively hooked. Half the shows on the air are based on former incarnations of the same, from the seventies and eighties. A Get Smart movie is coming out this summer. Let's not forget last year's god-awful Transformers movie, cashing in on twenty-somethings' fond memories of their collective childhood. G.I. Joe isn't far behind. Remake after remake after remake.

Where's it end? Where's the good original material? We seem fixated on re-creating as much from our past as possible. But the problem is, it isn't going to be as good. The nature of the echo is to fade. What's more, these moments we're evoking-- are they worth the effort? Really? Last summer, prior to seeing the Michael Bay atrocity that was Transformers, a friend had a group of us over to his house to watch old episodes of the original cartoon to get us in the right mindset for the movie.

It left me flat. Not as good as I remember it being. Course, I was also seven when the show first premiered, not twenty-seven.

I'm not really sure where I'm trying to go with this. This weekend, when Andy was up for ToyFair, I mentioned that I wanted to put a list together of movies from our childhood that Oscar should see when he's old enough. They were good experiences that the little guy might not get otherwise. Who can say.

I just think it's possible (and easy) to get too bogged down with mementoes. We lose sight of what's new. Although, if what's new sucks; it's not much of an incentive not to hop in the mental way-back machine. Is it. Hurm.

Thoughts?

Progress, Of More Than One Kind

2008-02-20T12:32:00.003-05:00

Well, there's a spot of good news; for the first time in weeks, tomorrow is payday and my account isn't flat-empty prior to it. The money will be gone soon enough, bills to pay; but it makes for a pleasant change of pace. Yay employment.

In other smashing news, I finished the first draft of issue seven, last night. Late last night. The juices were flowing and I took advantage of 'em. It felt great to hammer home that last page and send it off to Bill, my editor.

I haven't started in on issue eight. I haven't had the time, of course, but also I think a break might be due-- at least insomuch that I can chip away at other writing projects for a little while. A book idea I've had for ages is just sitting in my hard drive, and sketches that need developing are likewise inert without a bit of elbow grease. Well. Elbow grease so far as typing is concerned.

It feels good to be writing, and to have things to write.

* * *

On another completely different note, Pedro rocks. He calls me up about the most random stuff. The other night he called me to let me know about a History Channel special, The History of the Joke. That is totally something I would have enjoyed. If we had cable, that might be possible!

Anyway. Chris rocks. He went on to regale me with a few golden zingers from the special, and let loose with his hyena-like fountain of laughter after each one. What can I say. I love the guy.

So: A priest, a rabbi and a sperm whale walk into a bar...

The Creative Process

2008-02-19T11:03:00.001-05:00

I had three days to myself this weekend; as my current employer acknowledges President's Day. I didn't get any work done. Granted, I was sick as a dog-- but still. No dishes were done, the recycling didn't get taken out, and I didn't manage a lick of work on issue 7 of the comic.

Five minutes after I arrive at work, an idea pops into my brain that bears writing down: it's going into that issue. Not only is it funny, but it also answers a long-posed question (in my mind anyway) about secret identities and/or those little domino masks superheroes wear that are supposed to hide who they are. Anyway. You want to hear the idea, you'll have to pick up the issue whenever it actually gets published.

I had a three-day weekend. Other than raging nausea, why did no real work get done? Why only now, when it's inappropriate to be dividing my attention; do the juices start to flow? It makes no sense.

Oh well. That's writing for ya.

The Worst Timing

2008-02-17T17:12:00.003-05:00

My brother Andy is up in New York this weekend; doing major reportage on ToyFair. Just in time for me to get a nasty case of food poisoning. Friday night it began, and only now on Sunday late afternoon am I feeling anything like my old self. Dude. Weak.

My timing could not be better. Nothin' says family solidarity like spending most of Saturday in bed, next to a plastic-lined trash can so placed for the easier horking in to. Oy.

I also missed a birthday party last night, thanks to this. Yes sir, that is some dynomite timing.

Happy Valentine's.

2008-02-14T09:49:00.002-05:00

Another year, another day for the couples of the western world to get especially mooshy and sentimental w/ flowers, cards & chocolates. Likewise, the yin to their rose-tinted yang is for those of us not in a relationship to be especially bitter. That's how the cliche' goes, anyway.

I don't think I give a flying f*ck. One way or the other. Let those ensconced in cupid's grove enjoy their special day, let those stuck on their onesies pound on the windows trying to get in (if that's their wish).

I've spent too much time as a single man to raise much of a fuss over missing out on V-Day yet again. I'm over it.

(Granted; the very fact that I'm bringing up Valentine's betrays that it's at least on my mind. I'm inconsistent and self-contradictory. Sue already.)

Have a good day, folks. Of one kind or another.

Dream A Little Dream...

2008-02-12T14:12:00.000-05:00

Once again the lotto is tonight and once again, no-one has won. I picked up a ticket for myself and Andy, and one in the office pool. Couldn't hurt.

I posed the question before (without an answer), but I'm happy to get the ball rolling on this one. What would you do with crazy additional funds?

Personally, after erasing debts, I'd pour some money into the comic book. Get it all paid for up front to expedite production, instead of this piecemeal stuff. Then I'd put Yellow Brick Monologues back on stage, get in production and keep it in production til it can stand on its own feet... After that? Who knows. Rent a flat in London, Maryland and sunny Hawaii. Be in a position to get anywhere I wanted in the world.

Fun musings for the time being. Have a good one, folks.

On Mojo, Or The Seeming Lack Of It

2008-02-11T12:22:00.000-05:00

How to begin. Well, my name's Casey and I haven't had a first date lead to a second in almost two years. It wears thin.

One could say I'm having "a dry spell." Likewise, I could be steeped in "a slow year." However you paint it, I'm sick of it. Eharmony has paved the way to half a dozen dates in the past year; none of which have amounted to anything resembling a relationship. One or two of them, I didn't want them to. The rest...

I've made friends with a few guys up here; one's married, three others are in long-term relationships and one of my roommates is happily seeing someone. Three other guys I know seem to have no problem falling ass-backwards toward available women. Honestly, it's enough to make ya heave.

I know it'll supposedly "happen when it happens." But lemme tell ya, New York is one lonely city, in the wintertime or otherwise.

Crap.

No good will come from over-thinking this. I have no idea why it's been impossible of late to meet anyone promising. All I know for certain is that I'm fed up with it.

In (entirely different) other news, I had a wonderful evening with a friend of mine last night. Tried out a recipe for steak and homemade peanut sauce w/ broiled onions; which was delicious. As was the pie we made for dessert. We also watched a movie of her choosing; after which she went home. So: If I can't date, at least I can share a couch for a few hours with a nice girl.

Whatever it's worth.

"A Tax On Fools"

2008-02-08T12:54:00.000-05:00

There's a certain charge in the air: the office is abuzz about tonight's lottery drawing; which is currently worth roughly $120,000,000. Lump sum, post-taxes would probably be in the neighborhood of $70-80 Mil. I threw a buck in the pool.

My brother and I have an agreement; any time the lottery gets into the triple digits, we buy a ticket or two and promise to split the winnings. I like that. I guess posting about it here insures I'd be an honest gent about it if the unthinkable actually happens. It is to laugh.

Of course, there's the usual talk floating around of quitting work and living the high life, but some times I think it might be neat to go on doing the daily stuff-- almost like a secret identity. By day, working stiff. By night, he becomes RICHMAN. With his inestimable wealth, refined tastes and affable charm; the playboy breaks hearts and blah blah blah. Heh.

Anyway. It's something fun to think about between bouts of filing...

What would you do with crazy money?

Be Pscyhed. Be Very Psyched.

2008-02-08T09:19:00.001-05:00

Okay. This news has been on the periphery of rumor-radar for close to a year now, but the confirmation only makes it more exciting. Some very talented people are making The Fly into an opera. A freaking Opera. It's premiering in Los Angeles this September.

I cannot overstate how much I am looking forward to this. It has every chance to be phenomenal. Honestly? This is the sort of thing I would make a trip for, and I'm not a huge fan of opera. (I like it, but I couldn't name any favorite singers, composers, et cetera.)

I've proclaimed my love for David Cronenberg's treatment of the movie in the past, one of the rare instances where the remake is better than the original. (Also see The Thing.)

In the past I've stated to my friends, if not on the blog, my aversion to making musicals out of movies. I've yet to see one that blew me away. (I still have a bit of hope for Young Frankenstein.) If my desire to see this when it premieres makes me a hypocrite, so be it. I can only shrug and say, "Ya got me."

Ya got me.

Fresh Start

2008-02-06T18:40:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, finally, work begins at my new assignment. It's supposed to last six months. Here's hoping.

Anyway. It's been a good day-- getting some writing done, tried out a recipe for Steak Au Poivre for dinner, and later on I'm heading to the gym again.

It hasn't been easy, living here. I've been trying to build a life up here, but I think part of the problem is that I've been too much reminded of people from home-- from Maryland. This is supposed to be home now, right?

Which isn't to say that I'm not supposed to miss my family and friends. I do. But I need my focus to be up here. The present. I have friends. I have a date, on Friday. I hope that goes well.

Anyway. Some things to think about.

A Few Thoughts on 'Lost'

2008-02-05T15:02:00.000-05:00

I've been catching up on Lost while I've been waiting for my new job to start. I've been watching the behavior of the supposedly enigmatic 'Others', and their repeated statements that they're the good guys. Having given the matter sufficient thought, I believe I can find le mot juste that captures the antagonizing opponents to our beloved Losties. *ahem*

The Others are a right bunch of hypocritical douchebags.

Since the arrival of Oceanic Flight 815, the Others have kidnapped, murdered, enforced slave labor and wreaked no short supply of mental anguish upon our protagonists. And they have the gall to act surprised when the Losties fight back.

"I say, we've been a bunch of bastards, haven't we. If all goes according to plan, you'll continue accepting said needless cruelty. Hang on a tic! You're actually resisting us? Heavens, the effrontery!"

My favorite? My absolute favorite? A blonde woman named Colleen confronts Sun in the middle of a nerve-wracking assault on her own ship. Sun has a pistol, and Colleen assures her that Sun won't fire.

Sun fires. The Others get upset by this. It's ridiculous.

Anyway. My two cents.

An Interesting Turn

2008-02-04T23:47:00.000-05:00

I've been working on my comic book for quite a while now. The idea first came to me nearly two years ago. It was only after signing the contracts (pat myself on the back, why not) that the thing really started to flesh itself out. Oh, I had plot and characters and so forth, but the real twists didn't come 'til later.

Anyway. I am somewhat entrenched in issue seven; and happy to be there. Pacing-wise, things are about to pick up considerably, but in working out a scene I've been anticipating for months, today it finally solved itself. Violently.

A character that has been involved since the beginning meets his/her end in issue seven. I killed a character dead. No coming back.

It's funny how things work out. I had future plans for the character in question; and in the breadth of two pages his/her whole fate has turned around and been abbreviated-- and punctuated. I kind of like it.

It's nice to be working on creative projects in addition to preparing for work, which will start any day now...

Cheers, folks.

On Drawing

2008-01-27T23:25:00.000-05:00

I can't. Don't have the skill for it. Lord knows I tried. Let me establish something: My brother is a gifted artist. He can put anything on paper his mind's eye can come up with... in more than a few styles. He got a degree in graphic design, and now works for the department of Education. He's good.

I'm not. I took drawing lessons from a family friend in middle school; we traded drawing lessons from their mom for piano lessons from my mom. It was sweet of them to give me the opportunity; but the best I ever did was... not very good.

To wit: My brother is the reason I took up writing. There we were, both sitting in a restaurant with paper placemats and writing implements, and my brother was just doodling away. Jealous and thinking "Well, there's more than one thing to do with a pencil, isn't there" I started writing a short story.

The story was rubbish, of course, but it catalyzed something for me. Fast forward a decade or two, and I'm writing my first comic book miniseries, I edit books into transcripts for an audiobook company and if I'm very lucky might become the editor for a magazine both my brother and I have freelanced for; for some time now. That would be, in a word, awesome.

I owe my brother a lot. He's been one hell of a role model. Now he's a career man and a loving husband and father. I'm barely dating. Still have a long way to go...

The Substance of Trust

2008-01-26T01:02:00.001-05:00

I'm watching Moulin Rouge, great flick, and I'm seeing the other side of something for once. Satine's words and actions completely belie one another. She confesses her love, nevertheless she stumbles into the Duke's bedchamber.

It's dramatic and poetic that the writer become jealous. It moves the story forward. It is also, frankly, impossible to envision the fabric of the story unfolding any other way.

Her words, which are welcome; contradict her actions, which are untenable. Trust in the face of such chaotic logic doesn't stand a chance. (Wow, personal-history-subtext much...)

Anyway. Worth the five minutes it took to expound upon. Cheers.

Cripes.

2008-01-25T13:37:00.000-05:00

I have to admit, I've been a bit down of late. Temping is decent money but what I need is a full-time job.

I have friends up here that never seem to be down, or overwrought. I envy their outlook. Lately it feels like I've done nothing but complain. GAH. Maybe it has to do with patience; or my complete lack of it. There's a potential job interview next week. There's a potential voice-over job. A potential date.

I can't help wishing that any of these 'potentials' would actually just become whatever it is they're going to become; pass or fail. Will I get the job? Will I get the VO gig? I hate waiting. Absolutely hate it.

How do you just lighten up? I'd love to feel more positive but it would help if I had more things to be positive about. Right now I'm swimming in maybes.

Bitch, bitch, bitch...

Yawn!

2008-01-24T23:27:00.000-05:00

It has been a long week. The novelty of going to the same office every day has not worn off-- too bad tomorrow's the last day of the job. Oh well... I am still hopeful about the magazine editor job. It would be terrific to have regular writing work; despite the commute.

I helped a friend last night record the material for his first commercial VO demo. It's going to be good. I like doing this stuff, not to mention getting paid for it. It all runs along a notion I once pondered about people enjoying the activities they're good at. I mean, come on, are there folks out there that get a kick out of sucking at things? "Time to go shoot some hoops. I am terrible at this! Shazam!!"

In other news; I've started talking with a particular girl on eHarmony. We seem to have a lot in common-- like looking forward to the "If Today Is Your Birthday" horoscopes. Just a quirky little thing but nice to know in any case. The fact that she takes a very nice picture only enhances things. *cough*

Okay. Enough out of me. For now. Sweet dreams, folks.

Subway Antics

2008-01-23T23:56:00.000-05:00

My current commute has been at the peak of subway rush hour. The cars have been packed like sardines at 8 and 5. On the way home today, a rude woman pushed ahead of me to squeeze-- well, cram-- into the last few inches of the N train. The doors attempted to shut behind her, and caught momentarily on her backpack.

Obligingly, I pushed her backpack until it was entirely inside the train, not unlike smooshing a marshmallow into... okay, a subway car. That simile died en route. Mea culpa.

My efforts to streamline transportation earned a few laughs from some observers behind me. Pity none of it qualifies for overheardinnewyork.com, as none of us actually said anything.

C'est la vie.

That Seemed To Go Well

2008-01-23T14:33:00.000-05:00

The phone interview went fine; the woman I spoke with is going to contact me next week about the possibility of setting up an in-house interview. I was nervous on the phone, I'll admit, but I didn't scare her off.

I'm already over-thinking this. It would be a fun job, but the commute will be a bear. Still. Healthcare, 401k, travel to all the big comic and toy conventions... a dork's dream come true, right? Working in that kind of environment could only sharpen my writing...

Is this what I want? Granted, any position that'd put my writing skills to use would be a welcome one. And I'd have a genuinely 'cool' job. Huh. Go figure.

I'm still in the running here, folks. I'm going for it.

Wish Me Luck

2008-01-22T13:33:00.000-05:00

Folks, I have (potential) good news. Tomorrow I have a job interview by phone, for an editing position with a mazine for which I've been doing freelance work, for the past few years. I really want this job.

I've had concerns that the office's location (Congers) would be a problem; but since the interview is being conducted by phone it leads me to believe in the possibility of working from home. Who knows-- I could be so lucky!

Anyway: Please keep your fingers crossed, and I will keep you apprised of any new information. WOOT.

Opportunities...

2008-01-17T23:46:00.000-05:00

Folks, it's been an interesting 24 hours. Yesterday afternoon I had a last-minute audition for a Japanese-slasher-flick-English-dub. They record next week. I would love the gig, I'd be playing a teenager that's killed by the Yakuza. Woot.

Other news in the realm of VOs, I have an audition on Saturday for an animated fairy tale. It's been a while since I've auditioned for anything musical; I'm looking forward to it. I've been practicing the songs they supplied; and any opportunity to get back into cartoons would be a welcome one.

Last but not least; I'm in the running for an Editing position at a magazine that my brother and I have been writing for in a freelance capacity. If I get the job... well, that would be fantastic. Keep your fingers crossed on all these seedlings.

Maybe one'll grow.

One For The Record Books

2008-01-17T11:39:00.001-05:00

Last night, I dreamt of my own wedding. In my Dad's old church. To a woman I've never seen before. Can't recall doing that one before. Very surreal.

This was the full-on experience. Waiting for her at the altar, holding her hand, saying "I do", the whole creepy nine yards. Not that the idea of getting married is creepy. The idea of getting married when I'm not even dating anyone at the moment, that's creepy.

Details were incredibly vivid. I recognized people in the congregation. I'm not sure but I think Andy was my Best Man. What's more, the bride-to-be and I had a tacit understanding that the wedding was more for convenience or other exterior consideration; over our own lukewarm feelings. So it was a nice sham-wedding, I guess.

Dreammoods.com, the online answer to all your nocturnal vision explicating needs; had the following to say:

To see a wedding in your dream, symbolizes a new beginning or transition in your current life. Dreams involving weddings are often negative and highlight some anxiety or fear. It often refers to feelings of bitterness, sorrow, or death. Alternatively, wedding dreams reflect your issues about commitment and independence.

To dream that you are planning your own wedding to someone you never met, is a metaphor symbolizing the union of your masculine and feminine side. It represents a transitional phase where you are seeking some sort of balance between your aggressive side and emotional side.

To dream that you are a groom, represents your commitment to a relationship or situation. Alternatively, it suggests that your strong assertive side is getting ready to merge with your intuitive nurturing side.

To see a bride in your dream, signifies the most feminine qualities about you. A bride may also symbolize a union or partnership or some sort.

Any thoughts...

Meh.

2008-01-15T09:58:00.000-05:00

I recently picked up another Hitchcock title at Blockbuster, namely Frenzy. I was looking forward to it. It's Hitchcock's penultimate film, and it was written by Anthony Schaffer, playwright behind my favorite script of all time; Sleuth.

It wasn't very good. At all.

The dialogue was so-so, the lead protagonist unsympathetic; despite his 'innocent man suspected of murder' status. I'm not giving anything away, here. Some of Hitchcock's best films revolve around a man in nearly the same circumstances. Frenzy isn't one of them.

What I did enjoy was spotting an actress in a small role that would later play the "Hag" hotel keeper in Hot Fuzz. That was fun.

So. There's that. I've been heading for a 'classics' kick in my movie-watching for a while now; and am looking forward to revisiting movies like Casablanca and Vertigo when I have the time. Just giving you a heads' up, people. Steer clear o' Frenzy.

The Week Is Looking Up

2008-01-11T10:33:00.000-05:00

*Yawn!* Goodness. Last night was a late one, but for entirely good reasons. Since I started this temp job, piece after piece of All Fall Down has clicked soundly into place. Scribbling notes on my lunch break, jotting down ideas between assignments; it's good to have the creative part of the brain going on all cylinders. It's been a while since that's been the case.

Last night, I was in the zone. I'd planned a scene for the start of issue seven (of twelve), and my fingers had barely touched the keys when I realized the same scene would be dramatically stronger at the start of issue six.

This led to issue six getting an overhaul; trimming a scene that can wait until later; as well as sharpening up a formerly-okay-but-now-quite-good exchange between my heroine and her best friend.

I don't know how it is for other writers; but that moment of clarity where the rest of the room disappears and it's just you and your hands and the keyboard and the screen... last night was the first time I've been able to develop material that wasn't just plodding along, one page after another. This stuff was practically pounding on the inside of my head to get out and onto a page where it could do some good. And it will, boy howdy.

I'm looking forward to what my friend Bill has to say about the new issue six. He's a fair and honest editor, and he 'gets' this stuff implicitly. I think he's gonna be pleased.

I have to attribute this new surge in productivity to finding a (temporary) day job. Having a set schedule, having my time sliced neatly up into compartments between work and home and whatever else has redefined my week. The last month, scrambling around looking for work; I hardly got any writing of substance done. And even when I did, it didn't flow anything like what came out last night.

I'm still looking for permanent work; but this will do fine for now. I'm not saying everything is fine and dandy; but at least my creative juices aren't going to waste. So there's that.

Ciao for now, folks.

Another Year.

2008-01-07T00:55:00.000-05:00

Another year's begun. Chance for a fresh start, right? Right.

I've been living in the Big Apple for a year. I want to stay positive. It's vital to do exactly that. Never the less, it's incredibly frustrating. One year down. What's to show for it?

No regular job. Yet. Next to no money. No voiceover work in the last two months. No cartoon work in the last six. I feel like Sisyphus-- only instead of pushing a rock uphill, I'm trying to get time with a damn agent.

The comic is inching along. It's going to be another year at least before we publish, at this rate.

I need work. I need a job. I need something to budge, already.

"If it were easy, everyone would do it." Blah blah blah, insert another cliche' of your choice here. One year down.

I'm writing. I have a temp job that starts Tuesday. Beyond that gig, I'm lost. No idea what's coming next.

Damn it.

Something For The Potter-Philes

2007-12-26T23:48:00.000-05:00

I'm fully aware that the timeliness of this entry is entirely moot. The whole Harry Potter series is finished, and the details of this little nutmeg of a theory are well past the point of being relevant. Still. Now's as good a time as any left.

Let's rewind a few books to Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire. The book begins with an unflattering view on Voldemort. The Dark Lord has been reduced to a sickly, malnourished-looking infant from hell. He needs constant attention, and is for all intents and purposes helpless.

He goes on to return to power. They spend no small amount of time covering the exact means of how he pulls this off. It's a HP book, of course the villain gloats and reviews (in succint detail) his schemes.

Where I've been sketchy, since Goblet of Fire was first published, was how exactly Voldemort went from intangible half-ghost to wretched baby creature in the first place. He floats off in anger and defeat at the end of book one. His diary-bound doppelganger arrives and vanishes in book two, and Voldybritches makes no appearances whatsoever in book three. He's merely the Dread Lord who's about to rendezvous with his servant (Wormtail).

So the riddle (ha ha) is this: how does an incorporeal shade of a being get himself a body? Even a wretched one?

I think I figured it out.

Book Four introduces us to the aide of the Dark Lord, namely Barty Crouch, Junior. It also presents the debut of a snake. Nagini. This behemoth of a python is later revealed to be a Horcrux, an item/living thing infused with a fraction of a wizard's soul to ensure their immortality. And... Nagini is female.

I think Nagini gave birth to the sickly, infantile Voldemort.

In the first book, Voldy/Quirrel regales our hero with how he spent his days in the Albanian woods, capable of little more than inhabiting the minds of animals. It establishes that he can occupy space in their body.

Nagini was capable of laying eggs, being of the feminine persuasion. Already a repository of a piece of Tom Riddle's soul, how far-fetched is it to surmise that she bore him long enough to place him in an egg? Wormtail had various duties as Voldy's nursemaid, including milking Nagini. Who but the offspring of a reptile could benefit from snake milk?

Later on, after he's regained his full stature, Voldemort is hairless, pale, certainly cold-blooded and his nose is nothing more than a pair of flat slits. How much of a stretch is it to describe him as a reptile man? The son of a snake?

Anyway. Musings that have been bubbling on the back burner for a while. Worth typing down, at any rate.

Your thoughts?

Two Outta Three Ain't Bad

2007-12-25T21:38:00.000-05:00

It's been a decent day. I made the traditional phone calls to family and most of my loved ones. Only most.

I got in the appropriate amount of Claritin-protected cat sitting for a college friend, and even managed a tasty Christmas dinner w/ Topping, thanks to my Aunt Viv & Uncle Rich, and the good folks at Omaha Steaks. Scrumptious. We even watched Scrooged, one of my favorites of the season.

Now, it's nearing ten o'clock and I'm home. The tree looks nice. With nothing left to do before tomorrow, I'm spending some quality time with Watchmen and a wonderful website brimming with annotations. There are worse ways to end one's holiday.

Merry Christmas, folks. I hope you're warm. I hope you're safe. I hope you're with someone you love. If you have those three blessings tonight... you're set.

Ciao for now.

I Long For Annotations...

2007-12-23T03:18:00.000-05:00

I consider myself an intelligent person. Along with enjoying complex works, I also enjoy delving into the analysis of said works by more steadfast minds than my own.

To wit, The Fly (1986). I adore this movie. Top notch performances from Jeff Goldblum and Gina Davis. Superb makeup and special effects. Heartbreaking story.

Regardless of said intelligence, I lack the finesse to analyze the more specific elements of said sources of delight.

There was, at one point, an in-depth analysis on several levels of The Fly. I can't find it anymore. That annoys me. That annoys me greatly.

I have books for annotations on other masterpieces (more than one for the works of Alan Moore) and the fact that this one was online and now no longer accessible is just... flumoxing. I'm flummoxed. Damn it.

Anyway. Your daily allowance of pretentious meanderings from someone too caught up to actually sleep.

Ciao for now.

Tomorrow

2007-12-19T01:10:00.000-05:00

I won't lie; I've had a rough time of it lately. Work has been scarce, and money right along with it.

Tomorrow that may all change. I have an interview at a law firm for an executive assistant position that, frankly, could change everything. A respectable income, a regular job... I've reviewed their site, and any one of the available positions could turn everything around.

Incidentally, the audition this afternoon went well. I'm being put in their files. That's showbiz.

So. I have that interview tomorrow at three. Please, please keep your fingers crossed.

Life Getting In The Way of Life; Where Life = Work

2007-12-17T17:20:00.000-05:00

Damn it.

The search for work continues, leading to a temp job Tuesday, Thursday & Friday of the week, with a job interview Wednesday on which it is difficult to comment. I'll get to that in a minute.

Tomorrow, I have a voiceover audition that I'm greatly looking forward to. It could be for repeat business, doing the sort of narration that's very Casey-appropriate. It's also at 12:45 and impossible to reschedule. I don't want to reschedule it, even if I could.

The burr in my shorts is over the temp job I have scheduled from noon to eight; and my necessarily late arrival is throwing it into question. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.

I'm not missing this audition. If I have the opportunity to find some work in my field, then I'm going after it. I moved to New York for office work to accommodate my theatrical and voiceover careers, not the other way 'round.

This item is the umpteenth on my list of stressors at the moment. Single. Broke. Seeking work...

Speaking of work: The interview on Wednesday is for a charity organization; my job would be on the streets, seeking to enlist donors/givers/whatever the term is. Street work. I feel conflicted about this. I'm hesitant, but honestly? At this point I don't have the luxury to be picky! If the best job I can get is as a walking pop-up ad, so be it. I've submitted dozens of job applications in the last several days via Craigslist, and the grand total of responses has been one: The charity gig.

It's frustrating. Immensely so. The whole thing. On top of the returning health issue, necessary-and-unwelcome alterations to my work-out routine and the ongoing internal debate of whether or not I can make it to Maryland for Christmas.

Balls.

I need to vent. I need to unload some stress, hopefully at the gym. I need to get these things straightened out immediately if not sooner. I feel angry, frustrated and generally ticked that things have gotten to this point. Ain't life grand.

Bad Luck & Good News

2007-12-12T17:59:00.000-05:00

Here's the straight poop.

A few days ago, my phone fell out of my belt holster thingie (the technical term) and clattered noisily to the floor. Since then, several buttons no longer work. Nothing important, just the SEND button. And the 5. Oh. The 7 and * buttons, too. I can't make outgoing calls to anyone that isn't already in my 'rolodex'. I took it to the store, and it can't be repaired.

That's bad luck.

The good news is they can replace it. The total fee I'll be paying is: $0.00. Whew. New phone should be here in two to three (business) days. They'll be able to transfer over my phone list, no problem. The saved pictures might be lost... but it's a small price to pay, all told.

What the hell, more good news while I'm at it. I have a short gig in the morning, at 8, so I'll be getting to bed early tonight, by hook or by crook. In this instance, crook = sleeping pill, since I've been somewhat nocturnal of late.

In any case: Best news of all? I have a meeting with a VO agent on Friday! Woo hoo! He's heard my demos and may have some scripts I can audition for. No idea what manner of work is available, but the fact that we're having a sit-down can only be good.

Ciao, kiddos. Off in a short while to attempt counting sheep. Adios.

Trudging Onward, Hopefully Upward

2007-12-11T16:12:00.000-05:00

Gentle Readers, this day finds me bedecked in a suit and tie, returning from a job interview that, like week-old Ginger Ale, seemed flat. I don't think I'll be getting the job.

Upon hanging my hat, I sallied forth online to that most hallowed of establishments, Craigslist, and ventured to answer any and all employment opportunities for which I was qualified. Finished with said task, I expect my cohabitors and myself shall take to the streets in search of festive Yuletide timber with which to festoon our livingspace. Fa la la la, la la la la.

The quest for income will resume forthwith; as new opportunites avail themselves on the fore-mentioned website. Tally ho.

Hrm. Meh!

2007-12-06T22:03:00.000-05:00

Today... was not a bad day. I did a fair bit of transcribing, had a voiceover audition and possibly lined up a prime job interview for tomorrow. At this point it's out of my hands. Lord knows I could use the money.

Well... it's this or nothing. I'm about at the end of my rope; so if this doesn't give... something's got to. *whew*

Stray, Random Thoughts

2007-12-02T02:29:00.000-05:00

I'm re-reading Kingdom Come for the fourth time at least. A few months back I treated myself to the Absolute edition, which made a delightful difference. I've likewise acquired the Absolute Watchmen. I hands-down, flat-out, no-holds-barred love these books. These stories. They're remarkable. (And it's worth mentioning that Watchmen influenced Kingdom Come. Hell, it influenced comics in general. Yay Alan Moore. YAY.)

I'm writing a comic. It's a miniseries. It's self-contained. I won't lie, my influences are largely Alan Moore and Joss Whedon. I just want to write something with some meaning. Something with staying power. For all accounts, this could be it. It could work. It helps strongly that this is going to be published. I know it. The contracts have been signed. Can't wait for that day.

Anyway. That, among other things, is on my mind. So there ya go. Be well.

Attention Must Be Paid

2007-11-28T00:30:00.000-05:00

I'd like to make this blog more positive. Frankly, I've had enough of the gloom and doom (although circumstances haven't changed). Anyway.

I want to talk about my aunt. My mother's sister, Riggin.

She's a writer. She's published her own work. She's worked for thirty years in various fields and done everything she needed. But she's worked. She's stayed employed. Outside of a cubicle.

She's made it work.

My Aunt Riggin has been a huge inspiration to me. She's brave, employed and all-around fantastic. I can only hope to live up to her standard. Seriously.

She's proven that a lifestyle off the beaten path can work. She gives me hope. I have no reason to believe it's possible other than that she's blazed this trail ahead of me. I can use all the hope I can get. For that, I'm grateful.

Very much so.

What Do You Do?

2007-11-22T00:50:00.000-05:00

No-one likes getting the brush off.

I don't know how else to describe it. I moved to NYC, and got in touch with a friend that I hadn't seen in years. I thought we'd gotten off to a good start-- I helped her out with her voice-over demo. I'd had dinner with a her and her boyfriend a few times.

They haven't returned a phone call in the past two months. They didn't make it to YBM. I don't get it. I don't get what changed. I don't get at what point I wasn't worth calling back.

Anyway. I'm aware that I have a history of putting too much stock in what others think. You take up acting and writing, two lines of work that involve putting yourself 'out there', and see how easy it is.

So. I left a final phone message, wishing her a happy Thanksgiving. I don't expect to hear back. I'm finished with one-sided friendships, or whatever.

Anyway. There that is.

Oh-- and tonight, I officially made my first pie. Bought the ingredients, did all the mixing, even burned my hand getting it out of the oven. Hopefully it'll be a welcome surprise at tomorrow's family get-together.

Happy Thanksgiving, folks. Ciao for now.

Poor, Poor, Poor James Marsden

2007-11-21T15:25:00.000-05:00

It hasn't gotten any easier for him. Seriously. It's just laughable. When's the last time Mr. Marsden played a guy that could hold on to his girl?

The reason I'm bringing this up: Enchanted. The new Disney flick in which he literally plays Prince Charming-- only to have to compete with Patrick Dempsey from Grey's Anatomy.

Marsden's screwed.

Dude needs some karmic payback. Dude needs a movie (or a trilogy at this point) where he goes around stealing women's hearts left and right. Poor typecast bastard.

Well.

2007-11-19T01:44:00.000-05:00

Thursday is Thanksgiving. Forgive the cliche' but at the moment I'm having difficulty in listing things to be thankful.

I have my health. I have a roof over my head. My family and loved ones can say the same.

I don't have a job. I don't know where my next check is coming from. My transcribing job, while welcome, remains sporadic as ever. I wouldn't mind being able to get to sleep at a reasonable hour, either.

I'm going to keep going; there really isn't any alternative. I'm calling the temp agency again in the morning (to ask about the next week), and I'm dropping off a headshot/resume' at a restaurant in Manhattan that, believe it or not, could fast-track me to an Actor's Equity card.

Please keep me in your prayers. I haven't the foggiest idea of what's coming next.

Cripes.

2007-11-15T02:51:00.000-05:00

It's nearly 3, and I can't sleep. I've had two cups of Sleepy Time tea, and so far, nothin'.

Since I'm up, I've decided to get a bit of work done. Namely, on my next Character Demo. When last I was in the booth; my teacher strongly suggested that it was supposed to sound like it was plucked off the air-- like it was on TV or the radio.

I've started writing some material that will use a variety of voices in different situations. The so-called tricky part will be to blend in sound effects and background music, but that's nothing I haven't done before.

The real challenge will be picking out voices that sound nothing like each other, or like me for that matter. It needs to be a diverse mix, each part lasting long enough to establish that I can keep the voices consistent. Also I'm trying to work on giving them some life; allow them to be less flat. Range, people. Range.

I'd much rather be catching forty winks. But since that's not an option at the moment, I might as wellZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Yesterday.

2007-11-12T00:04:00.000-05:00

What follows is... personal, but it still happened and I promised myself when I started this blog I'd report the good things and the bad. This thing is supposed to be about my life. Right?

Yesterday concluded with one of the most frightening experiences of my life. Everything turned out to be okay, but until it was over-- I was going out of my head.

I started going to the gym last week; spending as much time on the exercise bike as anything else. I felt a bit of pain in my groin, and figured it was just... I don't know. It went away on its own. Then it happened again, after the next two gym visits.

Last night I found a lump. I know men are supposed to do regular checks for anything abnormal; but before last night I didn't take it those exams seriously. I did some online research, and jumped in the shower and checked again to be sure. There was definitely something present.

I called my family, and went to the emergency room, sick with worry. My brother wisely advised me not to get ahead of myself, and I tried not to; but it's one thing to hear advice and another to put it to practical use. I was flipping out.

The doctor checked (not a comfortable experience) and believed it was just an inflammation, something called epididymitis. A sonogram confirmed his theory, along with a cyst. Again, not a fun way to kill time.

I made another round of calls to let people know it was nothing that a regimen of antibiotics can't cure. I picked up the prescription this afternoon and will start taking those tomorrow morning. In addition to curing what ails ya, they can also cause diarrhea. Won't that be fun.

It's over now; but I distinctly remember what I was so afraid of. The big 'C'. I started to worry about whether or not I'd ever be able to have kids as a result. I tried not to let those thoughts get too out of hand, but it was still there.

Anyway. One hell of a night.

The Last Day...

2007-11-06T16:10:00.000-05:00

The last twenty-four hours have been completely bizarre. I went to church group last night, and from out of nowhere I found myself completely overwhelmed by feelings for someone I haven't seen in a long time. I left early because of it; I just couldn't get a handle on things.

There was no prompting. She hasn't been in my thoughts for a while and then, with no warning, bam. I missed her more than ever.

I wandered through a bookstore for a while, then came home. I called some friends and tried to talk things out; which helped somewhat. Regardless, it affected my sleep.

I overslept this morning, and was fired as a result.

Fired. It was a temp job at Random House that I was thoroughly enjoying. Hot and cold running books. Quality coffee. I was making a friend or two in the workplace. All gone.

Granted-- the job was only going to last to the end of the week anyway; but this is hardly how I wanted to end my time there. This is a black mark on my record with the temp agency; for certain. I'm not sure what's going to happen next. I sent apology emails to all the appropriate people. Tomorrow I'm going to give the temp agency another call and find out what's what.

In the meantime; I have transcribing to do. It's good work for solid pay; but... this has been a completely bizarre and bad twenty-four hours. I have no idea what catalyzed it.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better. In any case, I'm still going to the gym tonight. No reason not to.

I screwed up.

There's The Dark Side, And Then There's The DARK SIDE

2007-11-05T01:30:00.000-05:00

I have no words. This is quite simply, brilliant.

Woo Hoo!

2007-11-04T16:18:00.000-05:00

Back to the gym this afternoon, following a nice lunch-date with Denise, courtesy of EHarmony. They may start earning their keep, after all.

The gym was good. I think I pulled something on my left foot over the last few days, and the top of my foot hurt like the dickens. How I stretched that particular area is beyond me, but I know better than to push things. So instead of the treadmill, I spent half an hour burning calories (and clocking 13 miles) on the cycle. After that, a few arm and shoulder weight machines got some attention.

Frankly, I'm a bit tired. But it's a good tired. I need to keep this going...

Now I'm just relaxin' with some light writing and oh, fun a plenty, doing the dishes and recycling later. If I had one of those little party noisemakers, this would be where I blew it.

Ciao for now, folks.

Weighing In On The Issue

2007-11-02T11:10:00.000-04:00

Okay. I am not going to pretend to have all the facts regarding the Writer's Guild strike-- but I know the basics. They want more money for the explosion of new residuals-- thanks to Tivo and TV/Movies being available on Ipods, phones, etc. That sounds pretty fair.

The Hollywood moguls don't want to budge. So any minute now, the WGA is going on strike.

Sorry bunch of ingrates.

I respect that they're brandishing the only weapon they have, the strike itself, but honestly? Do they know how lucky they are to be employed in the first place?

I would give my eyeteeth for a professional writing job-- let alone one in such a lucrative market.

I've tried getting my foot in that particular door in the past (and will continue to do so in the future; it's on my to-do list), but for those already in the thick of it: friggin' appreciate where you are.

I hope this ends amicably. I hope the WGA get what they're after, they deserve it. Truly. Nevertheless, there's something in this that galls me that talented, articulate people are threatening not to do what must be their dreamjobs. There's no glory in refusing to do what you're best at. I cannot express how against-the-grain angry this makes me.

Thoughts?

Mental Flotsam, Mental Jetsam

Well Isn't This Just Great

How I Went A Month And A Half Without Blogging

Things Are Looking Up

Lots To Do

*Cue the theme to "Jaws"*

Internet Therapy

Here We Are Again, Same Sh*t, Different Day

If It's Not One Thing...

Admiration and Accomplishment (Alliteratively)

So Much Going On

Repeating Old Mistakes

Tonight's The Night

Interesting Thoughts

Been A While

Why Watchmen Blew

"My Year"

Progress, As It Is

My Year

A Little Taste of Home

Ho, Ho, No

Good News, Bad News

Bad News Follows The Good

Looking Up

On Firsts

America: A Flagging Way of Life

Tugging on the Old Heart Strings

~Twenty-Something Manifesto~

Updates, etc.

Tomorrow

*Whew*

Take Some Time, Recharge; Get Absurd.

Gets Me Every Time.

Catchin' the Midnight Train to HELL

Well.

Once Was Lost, Now Am Found

Contributing Factors.

Brilliant.

The Comic Art of Cliffdropping, Part 1

The Comic Art of Cliffdropping, Part 2

Just Peachy, Thanks For Asking

A Real Record Breaker

The Superb Villainy of Obadiah Stane

Go Figure.

A Minor Feat

A Strange Source For Relevant Insight

You're Killin' Me, Here

Missed Opportunities

Love & Circumstance

Fancy That...

A Little Sensory Input

What A Day.

Wonderful Weekend For A Wedding

*Balls.*

Mind The Gap

Go Figure

...

On Writing

On Nostalgia

Progress, Of More Than One Kind

The Creative Process

The Worst Timing

Happy Valentine's.

Dream A Little Dream...

On Mojo, Or The Seeming Lack Of It

"A Tax On Fools"

Be Pscyhed. Be Very Psyched.

Fresh Start

A Few Thoughts on 'Lost'

An Interesting Turn

On Drawing

The Substance of Trust

Cripes.

*Yawn!*

Subway Antics

That Seemed To Go Well

Wish Me Luck

Opportunities...

One For The Record Books

Meh.

Cue the theme to "Jaws"

Whew

Balls.

Yawn!