I hate that they were right.
Don’t Judge Me January 4, 2010
..but it’s true. I’m duly impressed.
I’ve been reading about the architecture in Dubai. It’s the epitome of excess, where money is no object in creating architecture based solely on a concept. And these concepts are not simple. There are layers upon layers of symbolism and direct reference – it’s the grand central station of conceptual design.
The Burj Al Arab in the shape of the sails of a boat, the excess of colour, the palm islands they built up from the gulf floor, the earth represented in Islands, the unfathomably high skyscrapers shaped like flowers and flames and rainclouds. Not all of these are built yet, and some of them seem impossible, but with the amount of money and the absolute willingness to spare no expense teamed up with the best of the best in engineering – they are not impossible.
I don’t think I’ve got the money, but I am now bent with an overwhelming desire to visit Dubai. I better research that – it might be awful if you’re not a millionaire – but the buildings themselves are worth the visit.
I suppose by the time they’re finished I’ll be able to save up the zillions to get over there and see them firsthand. Or perhaps by the time they’re finished I’ll be a successful enough actor to be invited to show off the opening of one of them. Yeah. I’ll do that instead. Free!
Don’t judge me.
correction
I just heard that the opening of the Burj Dubai was a big diversion from the serious financial trouble that Dubai is currently suffering – who knew?
Even Sultans get the blues.
Twilight Fans: Occupy Yourselves November 2, 2009
Just a quick note to those who insist on spending their precious brain cells arguing that Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson of Twilight fame are in the throes of a secret, hot-shit, passionate relationship because they deep down believe they are just like Edward and Bella:
Go outside.
They’ve both stated more than enough times that they are not involved. And if they are lying and are involved, it’s not YOUR relationship, it’s theirs, and it’s not up to you who they tell or who they don’t tell. IF there’s a relationship, and that’s a big IF (no), it isn’t for your entertainment or enjoyment. It’s theirs.
But they’re not. And they don’t care about you and your belief in LUUUV or eternal whatever. They’re actors. They don’t know you. You don’t know them.
So yeah, go outside. There are, like, trees and things and other people out there! There are books! And schools! And REALITY.
UGH. Now, get off the internet.
Thank you.
(I wonder how many comments I’ll get that say things like “I feel sorry for you and your sad loveless life” hee heeeeee)
Wash the Mop, Man. September 16, 2009
Hmmm let’s see. The rain has come and brought the greys with it. Two men got shot up in West Vancouver yesterday. I pulled something behind my scapula and now I can’t sit or lie comfortably. The floor in my office smells like old wet socks. I have no motivation to go to yoga. The Swell Season is making me weepy.
What the fuck am I doing? I can’t write these goddam things anymore. Everything I have to say, after I’ve written it, just looks like a bunch of complaining poor-me sads.
I need a conceit, or some kind of subject/premise to focus on. But then that would be work, wouldn’t it.
Lazy lazy lazy.
Stupid stinky wet-sock floor.
Definitely Not a Winner, But Certainly Not a Loser September 11, 2009
Small catchup: I had a screenplay in a contest. I was one of six finalists. I did not win. But this is likely because I am a better actor and writer than I am a director. This is not news to me. Might be news to you, since you don’t know me, but this is the realization I came to a couple of days ago. I don’t like having all the responsibility of a director. I prefer the creation without the bidness.
Not upset or anything; I’m fine about it. Just wanted to mention it.
Now somebody hire me for an acting gig.
Well, I made one. September 11, 2009
I swore I’d never have a personal blog ever again.
Guess I lied.
Ranting. September 20, 2010
Why can’t you just be normal? Why do you have to be so difficult? Why can’t you just say you’re going to come, then come, then actually be there and do the thing you’re there to do, and then come home again? Why is that so hard?
The reading started at 7. I asked you if you wanted to go. You seemed sort of interested. I said I thought it would be fun if you came. I didn’t force you.
So why, when we were sitting in the room before the reading, did you suddenly decide that was the time to renew your library card? Sure we were in the library, but the reading was going to start in ten minutes.
When you didn’t come back I just figured that you would be a little late. I held a seat for you. Two people wanted to sit next to me but I said, “oh no, this seat is taken”. When they started, the host asked me if they should wait for you. My instincts were flaring, so I said, “no, just start without him”.
Just as well.
You didn’t come back.
People came in late. It was a glass room. If you had come to the door you would have seen that it was fine to come in. You just figured “oh, it’s after 7, they’ve started, I won’t bother”. That’s what you did. You didn’t bother.
I know it’s not all about me, but this is all about me. I was humiliated. You looked like an ass, and now in their eyes, I’m living with an ass. Sure I shouldn’t care what other people think, but these people are my friends, some of them new friends that don’t know me that well and you even less. To them, I live with an ass. I held a seat for my imaginary boyfriend. I was stood up. The READER was stood up. Disrespectful.
Ok, so you didn’t want to be rude by coming in late. Why the FUCK were you late? We were already there! We were IN the ROOM. You LEFT the room. And you didn’t come back.
And once again I am making excuses for you, and feeling ditched, and that you don’t try, or that you’re just too inept to include yourself in my social life. I find myself sinking further and further away from my friends, from the outside world. I thought we’d meet in the middle. I’d reign it in a little, spend more time at home, less time pinging all over the place, and you’d spend more time going out, being more social, meeting people. But instead, I’ve just become more of a hermit. More of a homebody. I lose friends. They disappear slowly, but they go.
I feel like a recluse. And then you tell me you’re not feeling all that well. So you waited until we got there to act up like a spoiled child?
I’m so furious. I just want a normal boyfriend. I want a boyfriend who wants to be a part of my life, not just a piece of our life only.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I love you, I don’t want to change who you are, but this is becoming a problem more and more. What if we got married? We would have to have a wedding. And guess what? You’d have to be there. And you’d have to talk in front of all those people. And you’d have to have conversations and reply to questions and wear a suit or something. What are you going to do then? I can’t just acquiesce to your need to be introverted and have no wedding, no celebration, just an exchange of “I do” in a small courtroom somewhere because you’re afraid to talk to people.
FUCK. This rant is over.
Smarten the FUCK UP.