September 2 – September 25, 2002

where have I been?
3:30PM 09/25/2002
Wow, so I felt busy for a good reason, huh? I feel like I’ve been in Extreme Visitor Mode for the last few weeks. Writing? Besides this anecdotal crap and a little outlining, I’ve done exactly zilch. I’ve also relaxed less than I’d like, especially since for me, relaxing is largely geeking out in front of my PC and designing things like this stupid calendar. Photography would relax me, too, but I think I may never get to that again either. Whatever the case, I’m glad to be hanging out here again, and I’m fighting the urge to do anything other than drive up into the city and talk with Russ about writing stuff. I’m not even sure I can do that, but I owe it to the kid to get my ass up there to meet him–I mean, it’s been weeks! I’m becoming a bad friend.
I finally mailed some bills and I got my first unemployment check, so that’s pretty damn cool. I think things may indeed work out, although not any time too soon. Now All I gotta do is keep my eye on that brass ring and plan for my party. Time to go shower (cause I’m disgusting) and then it’ll be time to lock myself in my room and write for a couple of hours. Even though it’s the afternoon and I suck in the afternoons. Even though it’ll be bad writing. Then I can play videogames. Yay.
Also, above (in today’s picture) is me at age ten, I think. I was at camp. I forget everything else about that picture, except that it was taken on 126 film and after that summer I lost the camera for 8 years. Then I found it and developped the film, and that was what I got. Cool, huh?
real quickly
10:11PM 09/24/2002
I hope I didn’t wear out my bike’s supply of good Karma today–I rode it over to Nana and Papa’s place again and then to Saturn then home then out with Justin then back. We’ll see tomorrow morning how bad things are. Hmm.
Good day today, I guess, let’s hope that tomorrow is a productive one.
Philly update
10:22PM 09/23/2002
Hey, so I got the Saturn back here safely. That’s 50% of the bad things that could happen now safely behind me and not happened. Yay. I’ll be staying tomorrow (likely until early on Wednesday) to sharpen mower blades and help take the Saturn to be serviced (finally replace that clutch, thank you very much…). I’ll also have lunch with my grandparents, who were very glad to see me when I went over there tonight. That was good.
Anyway, not sleeping ’till after three last night turned out to not be so bad–I got up at 8 then napped from 10-11, so I’m managing okay. I did some writing, which ruled, and now I’m psyched about writing again. I’m thinking about employing a strategy (which I know will never work because it would require me blowing off my social life to accomplish it) wherein I sleep from midnight till 6am, then get up and write from 6:30 or so till noon, grab some lunch, nap from one to two, then write for another hour or so and then have the rest of my day to do whatever I need to/want to do. That would include videogames, movies, etc, and since I usually waste my day till at least noon anyway, I feel like even with a nap (can one hour of nap make up for two hours of nighttime sleep?), I’ll be gaining a significant amount of time. As a morning person, this idea suits me well–the only trick would be the placement of the nap. Also, that relegates working out to the late afternoon, when I’m not at all ready to work out, but we’ll have to see how it goes. Maybe a half-hour interruption for a quick workout followed by a shower wouldn’t be so tough on my groove. It all depends on when Michael gets up.
I know it’s early, so I think I’ll grab my bag and do some writing. Tomorrow isn’t going to be any 6am day, but maybe Wednesday will. We’ll just have to see. Depends on what kind of writing i can get done tonight. I think it’s work on the new project, actually, at least until i can get a little more of the thread out–it’s in that tenuous spot where it could be lost at any moment. Most projects never make it past this phase, so I feel compelled to get this one over the hump.
Thanks for reading. More to come tomorrow.
open season on sanity
2:30AM 09/23/2002
finally I got back to Brooklyn after hours in the car (made 1000 times worse by the fact that I was stuck in Holland Tunnel traffic for 1/5th of my trip from Syracuse) and I’ve had a relaxing weekend since then. Relaxing, in this case, is defined by the complete lack of doing anything but sit on my ass. Looking back on it 30 hours later, I’m not sure it was such a good idea. It’s like having a hangover, remembering some sex thing that you did that you shouldn’t have–you know it was fun while you were doing it, but you also know if you’d known that it would make you feel this way, you never would have done it. Maybe I should have been drunk.
Anyway, the future looms huge ahead of me (esp. since another day starts in a scant few hours) and I know that I have a lot that I should be doing. There’s a list a mile long of thigns that I need to accomplish tomorrow, all before I leave for Philly in my mom’s broken-down Saturn to pick up my broken-down bike. I hope both vehicles make it to their respective homes without incident, but considering their problems, I’d say the chance of that is very slim. I bet that tomorrow night I’ll have grease on my hands. Maybe I’ll also get to see a movie. That’d be nice. I miss seeing movies.
The night time makes me pensive, but in a way that I can’t really put into a blog of this sort, so I’ll stop now and spare you the vagary. I think there is a place for what I’m feeling somewhere, but finding that place will be quite a challenge. What I really should be doing, however, is writing my script. I’ll get back to that tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow–you know, the one that creeps in this petty pace from day to day? That’s the one. Tomorrow: the overwhelmingly-favorite day for starting diets, quitting smoking and writing scripts.
Morning time at college
11:03AM 09/20/2002
Not a whole lot changes in the mornings at college. Besides the fact that I left my windows shut more tightly and was only on the 2nd floor, this morning feels pretty much identical to every other morning I’ve ever spent at college. That’s so cool.
Em and I went by the old pastoral home yesterday afternoon, and I stared at someone else’s house for a few minutes, mouth agape. Almost nothing had changed–there was a furniture upgrade out on the porch and the junipers that had always covered the kitchen window were gone (the rest were intact, though, and that made me happy). I sort of expected them to have made a complete overhaul of the place and since they didn’t, I felt pretty good. We then ran down to Cherry road school and, man, was that cool, too. We played on the swingset and the jungle-gym (the first super-cool one I remember from my childhood–the one by which all modern installations were measured) and that made us feel pretty good. We had a good afternoon.
After that was dinner in the dining hall and then a quest for cider (man, that’s hard to find around here), then we came back here to surf the web and chill till it was time for the afterhours party. The afterhours party was cool–mainly freshman girls (as they tend to be, I think), and frat brothers. It felt familliar, but in that “I remember this half from life and half from movies” sort of way. Meeting people was interesting, though.
So that’s where we stand. It’s cool that the thing to do before going out is surf the web and chat on IM, because those of us that did that when I was in college were only the total geeks–now everyone does it. Go figure. I think I’ve been nostalgic enough, too. It somehow serves to cheapen the experience (or look like I’m trying to) if I’m always talking about how I did this stuff. I don’t want that. And today maybe we work out, maybe we play some volleyball, maybe we go back by Century drive, this time with a camera. Also, maybe we sleep all day and go out tonight. We’ll see.
Syracuse rules
12:22PM 09/19/2002
This place exists exactly the way a college campus should. Man, I forgot just how cool SU was. It makes me wonder just how different my college experience would have been had I decided to forgo the whole “free-ride” thing and come here to go into soul-crushing debt instead. I bet my credit card debt would have been less.
Not to take away from the experience that UMBC provided for me, mind you–that’s an important part of my life and I loved every minute of it. It’s just that this looks the part perfectly–it has the feel and the image that you just don’t get at most other places. Hmmmmm.
Emily is in class at the moment, and I’m trying to optimize her PC so she can get the most use out of it with the fewest crashes. So far, it all seems to be working.
gentlemen, start your engines.
3:49PM 09/18/2002
I fixed my bike. Now I’m off to Syracuse by way of Glen Mills. Pretty ridiculous, but I owe it to my sister to get my ass up there once in a while. Now, if I can only keep the thing running long enough to get to Philly and back, I’ll be a happy boy.
Updates from the field for a few days.
Tuesday
6:37PM 09/17/2002
Resume, bike work, writing and phone calls all await me and it’s already 6:30 on Tuesday. At least I’m feeling industrious. I called about my bike (no dice again from Cycle Therapy) parts and am now trying a different tack (get similar, non-identical parts from another vendor). I worked out, or whatever you want to call me flailing around on a bench with some weights is. I’ve determined that this is my last week at reference weight–from here on out, I have to up things, even on off days. Someday, Megan and Katie won’t think I’m flabby. Speaking of flabby, I can still feel Katie’s ab workout from yesterday, proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I need to do more ab work. I mean, I’m not looking for a sixpack, but I could certainly have better muscles in my stomach region. Oh, I hate being weak.
I’m uploading Office for Emily at the moment and owe e-mails out the wazoo, so I’m off to do that. Mow that the weekend is officially over (I love being unemployed), I can start my week. Tuesday through Friday isn’t a shabby week, I guess. Especially if that week also means a visit to the sister or helping a friend move into his new offices. We’ll see which this one holds for me.
weekend update
1:01PM 09/15/2002
weekends mean much less when you’re unemployed. I had forgotten. Yesterday felt much more like a Sunday to me than it should have, but since we spent the whole day basically chilling out, it felt like Sunday. Friday night, Katie and I made salmon and rice pilaf for dinner while simultaneously making cake and brownies for dessert. It was a pretty cool thing, except for the little problem of me having turned the oven up a little too high so I burned the brownies. The cake came out great, but the brownies were ruined. If my mom hadn’t been away for the weekend, I would have tried to get the recipe for her frosting (which I adore) and would have made that. Unfortunately, we just had to go with store-bought frosting. I’m kinda in a phase where I like the idea of making things from scratch, but I haven’t graduated to actually makign things from scratch yet. I think soon it will be time to do just that, though. I think I need a recipe book and some time sitting down with my mom, because I can make things to eat, but I never do, really.
Anyway, today is electronic music in Tompkins Square Park (maybe) and then a Raimi-fest in Astoria. I’m looking forward to that because I feel like too often, I let the active side of myself slide when I’m hanging out with someone a lot, and I like that side of myself and I’m not ready to let it go yet. But, man, I’m getting old. At least I feel old at the moment.
More later.
It’s like a Greek tragedy…
9:32AM 09/12/2002
After what was basically a good day yesterday, the accelerator cable on my bike broke. On my way home. On the BQE. Now, considering how awful that could have been (the middle of the Trench, anyone?), it wasn’t awful at all–it turns out that the cable pulled free of the handle, not the engine. That allowed me to pull it down from the metal stay colar and accelerate my bike like I was pulling a snake from its burrow–pulling on the metal wire to move the throttle. It was unsafe and really hard on my right hand (try steering with one hand while squeezing a greasy steel cable with all your strength with the other, you’ll see what I mean), but I made it home okay. Now I’m about to go out and see if i can jury-rig the thing to drive until I can get myself a replacement cable. I bet there’s nothing I can do.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again–I must’ve done something terribly karmically wrong to have this level of trouble with my motorcycles. I mean, the Aramacci? Please. More problems than I even want to get into. Now this thing. It’s almost too much for a boy to take.
Complaining over, time to move on. Thanks, though, to Katie and Kara (who I spoke to in that order) for both helping to cheer me up in their own ways. It’s always good to talk to both of you. Now I’m off to be proactive. Time to learn more about the problem before I spend money ordering parts for the solution.
September 11th
9:05AM 09/11/2002
In a lot of ways, today is no different than yesterday or the day before–objectively, there’s little significance to the fact that we’re now 365 days from the time and day that came to mean so much, but somehow, the same place on the calendar, the same date on our lips forces some meaning onto an otherwise-arbitrary morning.Often, in the past year, I’ve looked to the sky at a plane flying overhead and reconciled it with what I know about NYC geography, trying to judge whether it’s heading to an airport. Every time I think to take a picture in the city, I wonder if it’ll be the last time the city looks the way it does, whether this particular shot will hold some special meaning down the road.

I guess today is just like any other, really–I still have errands to do, I still have things to write, I still want to go play volleyball, but it seems that somehow I owe it to the memory of last year’s events to be reverent and thoughtful. And I am. To the memory of those lost, for the strength of those who were left behind and with the voice of those of us who saw with our eyes, heard with our ears and felt in our bones the horror of one year ago I can only offer my memory and my ability to retell the story to ensure that our horrors are never forgotten.

$1200.
1:56PM 09/10/2002
nothing really to say other than that. My rent money? Yeah, that was that extra $500. How I’m going to live until next paycheck (which is not even on the horizon) is a mystery to me. That’s all for now. At least my bike works.
The world’s biggest WASP.
3:45PM 09/09/2002

Hi there. My name is WASP-boy. I live in the American suburbs, far from the interesting melting pot of the rest of the world. I don’t know people provincially close to their families and I don’t know people that all speak a foreign language as their primary means of communication. What I know is small families, long distances and a closeness that comes not of proximity but of similarity. I can’t name five of my grandparents’ friends and the one holiday I spend with extended family with any regularity never has more than twelve or so participants. I am king wasp, head of the household and master of its domain. Geh.
So I’m on the train back to NYC after the weekend, and, man, was it something. I spent my time oscillating between the extremes and found myself at different times enjoying myself (sun setting over the sound, sitting on a rock in a park) and praying for swift and merciful release (nights of sickness). I’ve gotten to thinking about things as I demand them, about how important independence is to me, and about responsibility and people’s willingness or ability to take it. I consider it a perk of spending time with someone so much younger than myself that I effectively have a spyglass to the past from a new perspective. It’s not my past, this much is clear, but responsibility and consideration and independence are learned traits, and getting to watch them become learned traits is educational, to say the least. Sometimes it’s hard, especially for someone like me (who has a lot of trouble keeping his mouth shut), not to become didactic, not to even request because then i become an active player in the game I’d rather just watch. I know I have an impact, and I’d selfishly like to have an impact that moves things in a direction that I value, but I know that an affected change is a false one, and if you ask for it, well, you’re asking for it. Whatever, it’s a weird situation.
As soon as I get home and post this crap, I’ll no-doubt have more updates to post, but for now I’m basically out.
The television is better company than I am.
3:45PM 09/09/2002
It’s 4am and I’m writing. My motorcycle didn’t get fixed for the weekend, hobbling me in terms of transportation, leaving me reliant again on Katie and her car for everything. I can see how I might be a really obnoxious person to be around–my control issues are immense. I mean, setting aside the fact that Jacob at CycleTherapy lied to me and didn’t have the courtesy to tell me up front that they were closing early for the Jewish holiday (how do I spell Rosh Shoshanna?) and therefore wouldn’t get to my bike the same day as promised, I’m still bothered by the fact that I’m again left dependent. I’m also wondering if my bike will be able to make the trip from NYC to Syracuse to Philly and back without breaking down–I’m skittish and gunshy.
Sleeping from 12 till 2 and then not again until God knows when will not make me a fun guy to be around tomorrow, I fear. But what the hell, chalk it up to yet another way that I’m hard to be around, I guess.
Okay, I’m going to wrap this up and get back to writing–at least I’ll be insanely exhausted with a few more pages of screenplay tomorrow instead of just more self-searching monotonous bullshit puked onto the web. Weblogs are just the most painful things to read sometimes, huh? Masturbatory-fantasy-fulfilling, self-important time-wasting drivel to write and painful to read. Gah.
if it weren’t for my mom, I think i’d be a bad person.
4:02PM 09/05/2002
yeah.
I think I’m saved from just being soulless by the fact that my mom raised me right, so if you like me, you should thank her. There are all sorts of examples of what I’m talking about, but I’m not going to list them because it’d just depress me and embarass people that know me.
So anyway… that’s all.
wrap time
2:26PM 09/04/2002
we get four days, so we’re busy. none of the famous lazy wrap days for me, unfortunately.
Also, my bike isn’t ever going to be fixed, this i swear. They said that the parts were on the invoice and that they’re not in the shop… this is irritating because either they were shipped in separate containers and should be there, or else the warehouse thinks that the stuff shipped but it didn’t.
Anyway, i’m breaking down because i need to write and can’t, want my bike back and will never have it.
Jared may come down next week, though, and everything will be interesting and fun. And this weekend is Long Island. Time to go upgrade to Netscape 7.
there are 10 kinds of people in the world…
5:17PM 09/02/2002
…those that can understand binary, and those that can’t.Anyway, the weekend, while not over, has been long enough that I feel like I can comment on how good it’s been thus far. Katie came down on Thursday night, a welcome half-surprise, and we had a good time just talking about everything for pretty much the whole weekend. Friday night was the old-school party that I had been waiting for, and while the beginning and the end were a little abrupt and stressful (owing to some discomfort for various reasons), it was a good time. We picked up Lindsay and Megan, which ruled because I wasn’t even sure that we could get Lindsay out there. She’s off to DC next weekend, so this was sort of the last hurrah of Lindsay-dom in my life, at least for awhile. And it’s always fun to go out with Megan, even though I embarass her a little when I dance, I think.
My mom came up early on Saturday, and while I was tired, we managed to get breakfast, walk the dogs, watch a terrible movie and get some tasty-assed dinner at Planet Thailand before I completely collapsed asleep at like midnight. I think I skeeved her out a little, but she handled it like a pro–thanks mom.
Sunday, I couldn’t get out of bed until about noon, although the fact that I actually slept really poorly on Saturday night meant that it was hard to actually feel rested. when we finally got moving, we left for the Met (which took an hour and fifteen minutes to get to) and had a good couple of hours staring at art on the walls. As much as I don’t like museums, I think I can appreciate them for what they mean culturally. Besides, it never hurts to have a hot girl dragging you around pointing things out. Then we went to B&N where I bought a children’s book at Katie’s urging and a copy of Cryptonimicon because everyone has been making fun of me for not having read it. I felt ashamed, so I broke down. Between this and the underground filmmakker’s book I bought a couple of weeks ago, I should be golden for reading material for quite awhile. Then we came back and had some dinner, an effort which involved being sad that the french restaurant was closed before we headed to Uno’s, which turned out fine.
This morning, there was zucchini bread with the nuts removed (because we’re allergic, you know), Tombstone, talk about ORAL PLEASURES, and much lying about in pajamas. We got up early to get all this done by four thirty when Katie left. I know I’ve managed to get her in trouble with her family, a fact that makes me feel badly, but it was good to have her around for four days or so.
Now, I write. I have scenes to work on (Angelina meets Joey for the first time, anyone?) and ideas for them, all that’s left is for me to install Final Draft over here on my newly-formatted HDD and go ahead. I can work on adding in those bits and changing things a little here and there, and I think the entire thing will be re-written by the end of next week. This IS, you know, my last week of work. I figure that I can take a couple of weeks before I panic and have to work again, right? I don’t know…. Whatever. Money will just have to figure itself out in the immediate future.
I’m off to write now–thanks for reading.