I used to do nothing. Now I'm content to do bad things as opposed to nothing at all. Luckily, you only live once. Messiness implies that it can be cleaned up again. It probably could. Why not?
Iron Maiden. Indescribable. Phenomenal. Jaw-flooring. Electric. Someone please tell me where Bruce gets his speed from. That show was insane.
Not that anyone reads this, but i'll see you all when I come back from Queensland. To see Iron Maiden. Up the Irons!
I rang up my editor over at Buzz today. Man, what a great, funny guy! And i'm not just saying it to be a sycophant. He really did give me quite a chuckle. Hopefully I'll be getting my first (paid!) assignments soon.
I saw Juno yesterday. The best semi-indie film I've seen since Napoleon Dynamite. I've never been in love with a film character before, but Juno MacGuff comes damn close. And no, it's not because I know she'll put out, either. A witty script, tight performances and down-to-earth film making is what it's all about.
I got the shock of my life last night. One of my exes (names hidden to protect the not so innocent) sent me a message stating how "matched" me and one of her friends are. As much as I'd love to think I'm a sad case in desperate need of a set up, it did get me thinking to a novel idea that's been chugging around in my unconscious ever since I realized my daily morning "system check" had more use than just something I could hang my towel on while I was walking to the shower.
Its the idea that past partners should act as references to new potential ones (if said partner isn't the beneficiary of the wonderful science Dr. Milton Erickson has bestowed upon us) since dating and all associated bullshit is essentially a job interview that either ends up with both parties getting naked and more humid than usual, or, one half of this duo slamming his head against a door, lamenting the overabundance of clothes he currently finds himself wearing. Just one quick phone call and a half-honest answer could cut through so much trouble. Is she prone to questioning her appearance? Is he a bastard? Does she like it when I blow into her ear? Can he last more than half a minute? This evasive guesswork isn't romantic, it's god damn lunacy. I mean, we're all in it for essentially the same thing, right?
“The universe is change, life is what our thoughts make it.”
