A Civilized and Discerning Fan of Violence

January 15th, 2010:

Actual Quote Today: "I'm just trying to figure out IF, in fact, the butler did it." -N

Okay, I spent the first hour of my day assembling an entry for yesterday. Maybe I should take that as a sign that my ass needs to get a little more organized to keep up this "Blog Entry A Day" madness that I've gotten myself into. That being said, this entry is also late.

*SIGH*

The other day, I had spoke up about doing some editing. This led into me actually having some editing work today. Was I completely enthused at the time for a chance to edit on a Friday? I would be lying if I said yes. But I need the work, so I might as well shut my whiny friggin' mouth and get to it. I got to Norwalk at 1:00 pm, and hit the ground running.

The good news was that the thing I was going to edit was actually interesting, at least to me. It was the "Silver Gloves Boxing Championship", and it was for South-Western American kids, the age range being roughly 13 thru 17(?) years of age.

Boxing. Okay, even I have to admit that a sport that's entire point is to punch the other dude more than they get to punch you is a bit ridiculous. That being said, I love Kung Fu movies, so really, how civilized and discerning am I? As watched these kids hit each other upon the cranium and torso, I remembered that I had considered picking up boxing once in High School. I was never picked on or anything like that. I rarely got teased, and got along with most everyone, or at the very least was left alone. But I was always interested in boxing, thanks to having seen Rocky early on. At the same time, Rocky also made me change my mind. Have you seen what his face looks like after EVERY movie? Its like friggin' hamburger mixed in with oatmeal, man!

There were 15 matches, and I had to cut all the dead air and shaky camera movements out as much as possible. I honestly thought it wouldn't take that long, but 4 and a half hours (!) later I was only done with a rough edit.

W. T. F.

That was both disheartening and tiring. I asked if I could come in Monday to finish up the whole thing, totally forgetting about Martin Luther King Jr. Day. But my boss Musse (yeah, pronounced "Moose") was cool with that. I wasn't going to do anything in particular that day, and it's only going to be about 3 or so hours of work.

I left Norwalk, and headed to Santa Ana for my friend, Jon's, last-day-at-work party. Jon decided to go into Law School to pursue being a lawyer. What his specialty would be is still up in the air, but he's leaning toward Immigration laws. His party was at a place called "Crosby's", and the place was Hipster Central. You could taste it. The combination of Organic tooth paste and Buffalo Exchange hung heavy in the air. I ordered an unsatisfying Hefeweizen and a satisfying Grilled Cheese Sandwhich. I decided that I didn't need to spend all my money on alcohol and ironic food, and just got to talking to everybodyat the party.

Topics of Conversation @ Crosby's: Tattoos, Gift Certificates, Mysteries, sublimation, being buzzed, mistaken identity, moving out, sweet potato fries, etc.

The problem with the set-up was that we were all at the bar. ALL of us. Over ten, and we're mashed together. I thought Jon would try to get ahold of a large table or booth. Nope. He just had us saddle up to the bar and order as we went along. No problem if we had room, but at the bar we were so stretched out that one had to make a conscious decision to visit someone on the other side of the friend hemisphere. The expedition had to reach approval, and the provisions accounted for.

I got a little tired of this aspect of the party, and decided to leave. And now I am home, after procuring a few more tracks of music with illicet means. I am SLEEPILY trying to write this blog on time and failing. Anyways, I need some shut eye. Good night, folks.

-Nate