Oy vey, what a weekend. If this post makes any sense it'll be nothing short of a miracle. I haven't felt this wiped out since the climactic final episode of Life In the Halls, in which I played the recurring character Loyal, the old friend from high school who used to show up in the dramatic slump between sweeps months. (Spin-off show character pending network negotiations and a better job market.)

Saturday morning began with my dad crashing through my bedroom door and giving me a wake-up call a la the Chicago police on Fred Hampton. Normally, I'm left to my own alternate sleep schedule, but it was the day of marching band state finals. I've been out of high school for a good long time, but I still like to support the band, as I credit it with much of my success after high school. That, and it would be my first time cheering for the band alongside my brother, now an alum. I won't give a complete recap of the day, as I'd like to sleep soon, but here are my personal highlights.

I ate lunch at the cheesecake factory, an establishment that offers food and titular deserts as rich as it's intended customer base. I've eaten there once or twice before, and every time I chuckle that even the men's room has Romanesque arches and dynamic room lighting. It's one luxurious loo. This time, however, I was struck by the odd mural on one wall. It was a sort of deco-ish painting resembling some kind of garden of eden scene. There was a woman with an apple, a tree with a snake, and other little symbols floating around. The odd thing is that the symbols are from five major religions. They're springing from the tree, even though some of them don't have a garden of eden type story. The mural is painted almost whimsically, but the content is confused and muddy. I don't know who painted it, but I know a few people who would be glad to do a better job.

Upon arrival downtown, I decided to kill time before finals at the city mall and the surrounding downtown area. I love walking through cities, surrounded by moving people and huge buildings. I like the anonymity of it, like an ant farm. It was chilly and rainy, though, so wandering outdoors was out of the question. A crazy homeless guy asked me if I had concert tickets, though I was unaware of a concert that night.

The mall was packed to the rafters with band students and parents from all over the state, in addition to the normal weekend crowd of yuppie kids spending their parent's money and mingling with the common folk. For some of them, shopping at the gap is considered slumming. Faced with three and a half hours of time to kill until the band performed, I had to swallow my selectively anti-establishment pride and venture into stores I normally wouldn't look twice at. This meant going beyond my usual regimen of book stores and music stores to explore clothing stores. Most stores yielded nothing but expensive clothing modeled after thrift store clothing, similar to the fashion mistakes of ten years ago. Two stores surprised me, though. One men's clothing store had $80 jeans for $20, and even in my size. As I was trying them on in the dressing room, I overheard a guy telling his boyfriend that Target has some nice clothes sometimes. He was serious, and if Queer Eye for the Straight Guy has taught me anything it's to trust a gay guy with fashion matters I know little of, so maybe I'll check out Target sometime. The second store was Banana Republic. I didn't buy anything, but I was impressed that the employees were friendly even after a full day of refolding shirts left askew by each herd of mouth breathing tourists. The young woman folding sweaters in the aft of the store even smiled genuinely when I asked if there was anything on sale. I don't know how they do it. I'd go nuts and start fires.

The band was excellent. They took second place and the crowd went crazy. I was standing next to my brother in the stands by the field exit when the band exited, screaming and cheering with all the other alumni who traditionally congregate there during state. It's such a great feeling to see the kids so happy, though I only sort of know a few of them. I probably would've dropped out of high school if it weren't for marching band my freshman year. I think that's true of a lot of kids in the band. One of the greatest functions of music programs like this is that it serves to catch the kids who would otherwise fall through the cracks in a school with close to two thousand students.

I got to drive home, as I usually do, but this time it really sucked because I didn't have any music to listen to. Two hours in a car with two sleeping people and one bored backseat driver is almost as boring as an art history class.

Today I woke up with my two dogs playing Dance Dance Revolution on my stomach. They're lucky I think they can do no wrong when I look at them, because I think I had just cause to toss them out the window.

I drove my brother back to college, a three hour trek across mostly flat land with a few hills towards the end. The fall leaves made for nice scenery, though.

edit- this is where my train of thought ran out and I went to bed.

My very own Jack Chick comic.

The following is probably a true story, but I really don't remember.

Setting: the wooded path behind the local elementary school.

Enter Loyal, aprox. 8 years old on his way home from school.

Loyal: whistling the theme to Super Mario Brothers

Enter the Devil

Loyal: What the heck?

Devil: Correct! You are a bright boy.

Loyal: Hey, are you the devil?

Devil: No, no, that name is terrible for PR. But, it is a recognizable household name, so you may use it if you wish.

Loyal: But you're the universal root of all that is evil and wrong!

Devil: Hey, do you like the bands Motley Crue and Skid Row?

Loyal: Uh, yeah.

Devil: You're welcome.

Loyal: (pause) Oh.

Devil: Yes. Anyway, I'm currently trying to reach the new youth market. It's a new individualized service package, much more personal and client oriented. Are you interested?

Loyal: What? No!

Devil: Splendid! First, I have to ask a few questions. Have you read "the Devil and Daniel Webster?"

Loyal: No.

Devil: Are you at all familiar with the movie "the Seventh Seal" by Ingmar Bergman?

Loyal: Who?

Devil: Do you ever listen to AM radio?

Loyal: No.

Devil: Hmm... Ok, now to get down to business. What do you see yourself doing when you're, say, twenty-four years old.

Loyal: Twenty-four? Wow, that's really old.

Devil: Well, what do you want to do when you grow up?

Loyal: I want to draw, maybe a cartoonist?

Devil: That means going to art school, you know. Is that okay?

Loyal: Yeah, I like art.

Devil: Good, good. What else do you like to do?

Loyal: I like to play video games and watch TV.

Devil: Ahh, a gamer. How would you like to play video games and watch TV all day and all night when you grow up?

Loyal: Wow, all night?

Devil: You could eat nothing but macaroni and cheese and frozen pizza and drink root beer whenever you like.

Loyal: Wow! That'd be rad! But don't I have to get a job when I grow up?

Devil: How would you like to play an electric guitar?

Loyal: Awesome!

Devil: Then it's settled! When you're twenty-four you'll have everything you ever wanted when you were eight!

Loyal: Really?

Devil: Yes!

Loyal: Wow!

Devil: HA HA HA!!! (disappears in a puff of smoke)

Loyal: Wow, it's a good thing I'm eight years old and unfamiliar with the concept of far reaching consequences based on my actions. I'd better get home- those Nintendo games aren't going to play themselves.

scene

Some Enchanted Evening (other than this one)

Tonight I was just going to hang out with Gerry and watch a movie but for some reason neither of us wanted to just sit around on a Saturday night. For some reason tonight was like the first chapters of Jack Kerouac's novel On the Road when Dean Moriarty shows up and wants to go out, so they do. (If I'm the only one who gets that, it's still worth it.)

So Gerry and I decide to go to the mall with a half an hour until close to seek out this girl he met recently. It was funny- he knew that she worked at a kiosk near the Gap but didn't know where that was, and I knew where the Gap is (only because it's between Suncoast and EB Games) but not who we were looking for. She sells lotion, and obviously she had to stay there, so Gerry is talking to her and I'm standing in the mall next to a stand full of dubiously French lotion. It was odd, but probably better than another night of replaying the last level of Halo. We ended up wandering around the mall after closing time looking for an exit that wasn't locked, which had an oddly claustrophobic feeling to it. I always take it for granted that when I go to the mall I'll be able to escape when I'm ready. We finally ended up following some people out an employee exit.

I bought comics at Borders and then we went to Munchie for food and the last inning of the world series game. The employees were cool as usual, stopping to chat about baseball and the availability of cherry coke a the cigarette store across the street according to the lady who sometimes works there.

I've been thinking about eventually moving to a better city. I figure the economy is about due to bounce back in a concrete way, as opposed to because some talking head on the news says it is. When it does, the job market might follow, and any job that hasn't been exported to India or China will have openings. The odd thing is that my biggest reason to move is that I want to furnish an apartment. I really want to deck a place out with all kinds of cool stuff and inexpensive art on the walls. In the meantime, I hope I get the computer lab job. That would rule.

First of all, congratulations to Conan O'brien and his lovely wife for the birth of their daughter earlier today. I know Conan reads this blog on a daily basis, after all.

I haven't been updating for a variety of reasons. First and foremost is the game Halo for PC, developed by the good folks at Bungie and shamed by the most dishonorable microsoft. Another reason for no recent updates is last night I thought I was coming down with a cold, so I loaded up on vitamin c and this apparently did enough to ward off the malady.

Monday I went to the YMCA and tried the weight machines. In a way, I am reminded of the defeat of the native Americans at the hands of the Europeans with their superior technology. The machines kicked my arse and left me pretty stiff in the arms and shoulders. Whitey has received his comeuppance yet again, but not as bad as that time at the Indian casino.

I saw Kill Bill today and absolutely loved it. Like any good revenge movie (the Crow) the violence was completely over the top. The body count may well be over a hundred. It's not all about violence, though. There are some really cool thematic elements in the movie that elevate it above most hollywood action movies. In my opinion, the action was better than the Matrix: Reloaded by leaps and bounds. The music is great too. Quentin Tarentino is a genius with music, mixing oldies with modern day Japanese rock to make the movie that much more unique. I want to see this one again soon, as I'm sure I missed some things.

I feel like the song by the Pixies lately- Where is my mind?

I meant to give a nice self indulgent post on my birthday the other day, but instead I got sidetracked by my new copy of Jedi Academy. I'm only human. This post will be a little scattered and rambling- think Andy Rooney after driving across Ohio in a car with no radio.

My birthday was rather pleasant. I woke up and checked the computer to find a windows text document up with a happy birthday message from mom. Hallmark ain't got nothing on the elegant simplicity of a 22 pt courier font birthday greeting, that's for sure. I spent an enjoyable afternoon with Gerry as we frequented a few of the geekier merchants on the southwest side. My brother came home from college a foot taller and speaking partial Russian. I love that college. The Cubs beat the Marlins something like 800 to 3 in game two, adding to my good mood. Right on.

I'm applying for a position at the campus computing help desk at my alma matter. I think the official title is "help desk level one," so I think that means I'll be doing mostly simple windows troubleshooting and stocking the copy machine with paper and toner. I think I'm still fairly well connected at the school even though I never go back to visit anyone, so hopefully I can get the job based on name dropping, which I did plenty of in my cover letter. Maybe I'll get a couple of workstudy peons that I can mold into henchmen a la the old Adam West Batman series.

My latest pursuit du jour is working out at the local YMCA. I haven't technically worked out, but I have taken a couple laps around the indoor walking track. Sure, there's a perfectly nice park outside the Y that people could walk around as God and nature intended, but this is indoors. Staying indoors is how I've managed to avoid skin cancer and sports related injuries, so I'm on a real hot streak there. The indoor walking track is usually populated by old people with short legs, so it's like mall walking but without all the Gap signs. Old people are pretty easy to overtake on the track too, so there's a nice exaggerated sense of speed to keep me motivated. The funny thing about the track is that the corners are slightly banked, Nascar style, just in case some Y patrons can't handle 90 degree angles at normal walking speed without skidding into the wall.

I went to the library to find a book about weight training in an effort to avoid injuring myself the first time I use the machines. Who designs these books? Each one is the same awful neon color scheme with the same scantily clad body builder on the cover, flexing and smiling because he knows I'm trying to avoid looking at his spandex shorts. They all say "Weight Training for Beginners" in large neon letters designed to further emasculate me as I struggle to contain my armload of thick art books, comics, and guitar books. I left without a weight training book out of the sheer fear of embarrassment from carrying a book with the aforementioned oiled strong man on the cover. The embarrassment factor for that is equal to checking out gynecology medical journals or any of the "Left Behind" series.

I think I'll try this health and fitness thing for awhile. I have to figure out a good time to go the Y when it isn't full of people to get in my way or see me struggle with minimal amounts of weight. Heck, I just need to figure out how to use the equipment. I can make KDE Linux run emulated in windows xp, I can smooth the curves in Maya to make an animated character speak naturally, and I can digitally repair and nearly restore a century old portrait of one of the last American horse mounted cavalry units. But can I work a machine that instructs me to "try and move this- it's heavy"? That's the real trick.

I've been preoccupied with the new scanner since this past weekend, so the blog has been put on the back burner. I really don't have that much to say. My birthday is Wednesday, and it ought to be a good day. I'm going to the comic book store with Gerry, my brother is coming home after a month away, and there are new episodes of Smallville, Angel, and West Wing. What more could I want? Really, aside from a job in a major city and a cool brick walled apartment with a dog and a hip young geeky bass player girlfriend and a mid-eighties Volvo? I mean, really, what?

Cubs win? Oh, woah- Cubs WIN! I'm not even a baseball fan and I'm pretty happy. I'm also pretty tired, so no entry tonight.

Yeah, I went to the new YMCA today to see about getting a membership. There isn't anything amazingly exciting about this, but it should prove to be a wealth of future posts full of snarky comments and cheap shots at the more zealous health nuts. Future topics might include the indoor rock wall that I'll never climb, the pool that I'll probably never go in, and the weight room that will put me in the hospital. This is shaping up to be middle school gym class without the Col. Kurtz/Klink figure of a gym teacher. Actually, the funny thing is I can see my middle school from the windows on one side, so my old gym teacher might be in the Y locker room waiting to make sure I shower properly. He was a tool.

The Cubs get another go at Atlanta tomorrow night at Wrigley Field. The way I figure, they won one out of two in Atlanta, so things are looking good for them to win the next (I assume) two games at home. The Cubs fan crowd is going to be insane. Shoutout to Tom, who lives near Wrigley Field. I'll be scanning the TV crowd in the street outside the stadium for his blonde head caught up in the tumult.

What a day so far. Oy vey. I (was) volunteered to my help Mom in her classroom as they made edible state maps out of graham crackers and candy. I learned two things. One, confectioners items aren't meant for cartography. Seriously, some of these kids don't know where major bodies of water are located. Bodies of water that are visible from space! No wonder kids are always getting lost in the woods- most of them can't find their arses with both hands. Two, kids really do say the darndest things. And they say them all at once, all together, as loud as possible. The sound in that classroom makes a System of a Down concert sound like Barry Manilow live in a coma ward. They're like cicadas with miniature clothes on. If I ever have kids (through a state clerical error) I'm painting a big sign above their cribs before they can even read: "Don't be a jackass." They'll figure it out. I'll say things like "have a nice day at school, don't be a jackass" and "I love your drawing of that ninja killing all those record executives. Thank you for not being a jackass today." Okay, it might not be that bad, but I'll be wary- that's for sure.

I also found this amusing from fark: Mountain Dew Death Calculator

Not much in the way of blog worthy news today, but here's a link to something that made me laugh.

http://www.x-entertainment.com/halloweencountdown/2003/september29/