Woke up and had to head to work at Huntington Beach. I cleaned and organized the television studio which they spent thousands of dollars on remodeling and updating. I had to break down A LOT of boxes. But all around, a chill day.
All in all, I spent a solitary day. I do that a lot. Not because I don't have people I like to hang out with. Quite the opposite actually. I might just possibly have TOO many people I would like to hang out with. But being an only child really makes me prefer to go solo more often.
If I had the money, I would just pick a street or freeway and drive down it till the sun went down. I have to be conservative, which is no fun at all. But I love just sitting down somewhere I've never been to before. I've still never been to Sacramento, nor have I had a decent trip to San Francisco (which might be happening in February!) And getting lost is a lot more fun with a GPS to drag my ass out of the fire.
I ended up at my storage unit, and started inventory on all my DVDs. That killed a few hours, and left me with a pit in my stomach as I realized that I really need to get rid of some them. But also, at least half of the stuff I have sitting in there. I guess I'll have to figure that out as I go along.
-Nate
Friday, January 8, 2010
Half-Assed Journal Entry #01
January 7, 2010:
Aw crap.
Its late, and I'm tired. I messed up and forgot to get my blog/journal together.
So, rapid fire:
1- Hung out with Samantha.
2- Hung out with Aaron.
3- Hung out with Justin.
4- Saw "Where the Wild Things Are" (I liked it).
5 - Forgot to write down my blog/journal.
6- Half-assed my blog/journal.
7- Went to sleep.
Love and peace, folks.
-Nate
Aw crap.
Its late, and I'm tired. I messed up and forgot to get my blog/journal together.
So, rapid fire:
1- Hung out with Samantha.
2- Hung out with Aaron.
3- Hung out with Justin.
4- Saw "Where the Wild Things Are" (I liked it).
5 - Forgot to write down my blog/journal.
6- Half-assed my blog/journal.
7- Went to sleep.
Love and peace, folks.
-Nate
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
1994 Was a Heavy Year
Quote: "Honor women! They entwine and weave heavenly roses in our earthly life." -Schiller
Actual Quote of the Day: "We're all going to have a Doctor Whoot!"
Wednesdays. More specifically, New Comics Wednesdays. How may I count the ways that I love thee? In miles driven? In smiles smiled? In comics collected? Nay, it be the way Comics Unlimited opens its doors, with brand spanking new comics books filling the shelves, filling the store with the aroma of new paper and rabid joy (or at least I hope that smell is rabid joy). It is in the way that conversations just feel better inside those majestic four walls. Its the way that if I had a sleeping bag I would never leave. (Hey, I could sleep under the discount table).
That being said, I only bought one comic book today. Yeah, that entire first paragraph makes me sound like a dick now, doesn't it? I have a budget, okay? I need to conserve my resources. I. Be. POOR.
I got there earlier than usual. Mark, Lainey, and (later) Nancy were running the store, and if a more mighty trifecta of Awesome has been assembled, I have yet to see it. (Sorry Vic and Justin, if we owned a comic store I would say were equal in Awesomeness. But we do not, so we don't). And my favorite part of going there kicked in. Talking to this Trifecta! And even better, Vic and Justin showed up later to add to said good times.
Topics of Conversation @ Comics Unlimited: Doctor Who, Religion, Child discipline, Cheesecakes, Horror magazines, Frogs, Script Revisions, Secret Societys/Clubs, Nuns, Kickass horror scenes we'd like to see, Surprise punches to the face, blogs, etc.
I ended up buying Suicide Squad, which was jointly written by Gail Simone and John Ostrander. Let me gush about Gail Simone for a moment. She is an amazing writer. She has earned my special "Buy Any of Their Comics" Award. Its a very prestigious club, that I'm sure Nancy would like me to be less stringent on acceptance criteria. Anyways, Simone got labeled the "Women In Refrigerators" feminist anti-male comics crazy writer lady. This is incredibly unfair, and is an insult to her actual writing talent, which is considerable.
All right, I'm gonna go on a tangent here and explain the whole "Women In Refrigerators" phrase. To put it bluntly, women have had (or still do have) a crappy deal when it comes to representation in comic books. They're either WAY less powerful than their male counterparts, "bitchy", poorly written, ridiculous sex symbols, or all the above. Wonder Woman is probably the best representation of women in comic books, but even then, her costume is pretty much a strapless one-piece bikini. And only recently has she gotten written with a form of respect and actual characterization other than "The woman Superman would totally get with if he wasn't already with Lois." Anyway, if you weren't Wonder Woman, then awful things might happen to you. Take an issue of Green Lantern from back in 1994, where Kyle (the Green Lantern of the time) came home to find his girlfriend, Alex, dead and stuffed into a friggin' refrigerator.
Actual Quote of the Day: "We're all going to have a Doctor Whoot!"
Wednesdays. More specifically, New Comics Wednesdays. How may I count the ways that I love thee? In miles driven? In smiles smiled? In comics collected? Nay, it be the way Comics Unlimited opens its doors, with brand spanking new comics books filling the shelves, filling the store with the aroma of new paper and rabid joy (or at least I hope that smell is rabid joy). It is in the way that conversations just feel better inside those majestic four walls. Its the way that if I had a sleeping bag I would never leave. (Hey, I could sleep under the discount table).
That being said, I only bought one comic book today. Yeah, that entire first paragraph makes me sound like a dick now, doesn't it? I have a budget, okay? I need to conserve my resources. I. Be. POOR.
I got there earlier than usual. Mark, Lainey, and (later) Nancy were running the store, and if a more mighty trifecta of Awesome has been assembled, I have yet to see it. (Sorry Vic and Justin, if we owned a comic store I would say were equal in Awesomeness. But we do not, so we don't). And my favorite part of going there kicked in. Talking to this Trifecta! And even better, Vic and Justin showed up later to add to said good times.
Topics of Conversation @ Comics Unlimited: Doctor Who, Religion, Child discipline, Cheesecakes, Horror magazines, Frogs, Script Revisions, Secret Societys/Clubs, Nuns, Kickass horror scenes we'd like to see, Surprise punches to the face, blogs, etc.
I ended up buying Suicide Squad, which was jointly written by Gail Simone and John Ostrander. Let me gush about Gail Simone for a moment. She is an amazing writer. She has earned my special "Buy Any of Their Comics" Award. Its a very prestigious club, that I'm sure Nancy would like me to be less stringent on acceptance criteria. Anyways, Simone got labeled the "Women In Refrigerators" feminist anti-male comics crazy writer lady. This is incredibly unfair, and is an insult to her actual writing talent, which is considerable.
All right, I'm gonna go on a tangent here and explain the whole "Women In Refrigerators" phrase. To put it bluntly, women have had (or still do have) a crappy deal when it comes to representation in comic books. They're either WAY less powerful than their male counterparts, "bitchy", poorly written, ridiculous sex symbols, or all the above. Wonder Woman is probably the best representation of women in comic books, but even then, her costume is pretty much a strapless one-piece bikini. And only recently has she gotten written with a form of respect and actual characterization other than "The woman Superman would totally get with if he wasn't already with Lois." Anyway, if you weren't Wonder Woman, then awful things might happen to you. Take an issue of Green Lantern from back in 1994, where Kyle (the Green Lantern of the time) came home to find his girlfriend, Alex, dead and stuffed into a friggin' refrigerator.
Yeah, and I read that very issue when I was 12-years-old. I won't even get into the age thing, cuz, heck, that's a problem now. Heavy stuff to try and come to terms with. What Simone was bothered by was the sheer number of female characters that get maimed, violated, or killed in comic books. And the percentage of female characters this happens to is far more than male characters. Examples off the top of my head are Gwen Stacy, Karen Page, Raven, Batgirl, Elektra, Jade, Jean Loring Palmer, Susan Dibney, Ms. Marvel, etc. Bad stuff happened to them. Now, one can say bad things happened to the male characters too, which is very true. But what Simone was trying to do was make sure we were all aware of how intensely negative the treatment of female characters was getting, and had been. To at least make us think about it a little.
And really, when men are maimed, violated, or killed its a "Test of their Character." But if it happens to a woman, its a tragedy. So, really, the question of what side of this discussion, if any, you are on is up to you to answer. I personally saw it as how any character was getting written. All writers have to put their character through hell before the end of the story, otherwise the drama has no weight to it. But there IS a fine line between gritty story telling, and just plain emotional rape. Again, up to you to decide.
So...
Gail Simone is a good writer. That's just a fact. And she has an opinion, which is a good thing, otherwise characters would just be there, and not have any depth to them. Read her stuff, especially "Secret Six" and "Birds of Prey."
As for the rest of the day... I ate at Panara, had a sandwich and soup. I then headed to work, which was very quiet. All in all, thank god for my Gail Simone rant, otherwise this blog would have been done REALLY quick.
-Nate
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
The Ballad of Sam Darling
January 5, 2010:
Quote: "I cannot tell how the truth may be; I say the tale as 'twas told to me." -Scott 'Lay of the Last Minstrel'
Actual Quote from Tonight: "You actually played football on a broken tibia?"
[Honestly, this blog/journal entry was supposed to be the quiet uneventful one.]
I woke up and kind of lounged around the homefront. Checked some e-mail, looked at some notes for the script, and picked up some work for Friday. I watched the Star Trek special features disc and had some lunch with my dad. It was carrot soup and very good, especially with the turkey sandwich on german bread. A nice hearty meal, which is my favorite type of food. I then headed out for work and picked up some drinks along the way, perrier and orange juice, so I can have something other than the vending machine stuff.
Once I got to work, the day went as usual. Cable casting, organizing, and setting up for the City Council Meeting for that night, which happens twice a month. We had a daughter of one of our bosses come down to observe what we do as part of a project she needed for her High School project. No problem, and helped to make a cut into the daily routine. The Council meeting came and went, with almost no hitch. The only annoyance came at at the end, where a citizen, Barry, who is known for being quick to question and attack the city, stated that our cable station had been down for over a week. This is not true, as the station had some technical difficulties on a Thursday, but was up and ready by Tuesday. A small matter, but a shot at our competance.
I got to the council chambers to help bring all the equipment down. The only thing I was able to get done was wrap a cable before a different citizen came by to ask me a question.
"Hi, my name is Sam," he said.
"Hi, I'm Nathan," I replied, "What can I help you with?"
"Nothing, really," he said, "I just wanted to let you guys know that what that last guy, Barry, said was totally inaccurate. You guys do a great job, and the station had barely went down before it was up again."
"Oh, thanks, sir," I said, "We appreciate that. What was your name again?"
"Sam Darling," he replied.
We talked for a bit about what our station covers and other things before I had to head down to help close up shop for the night. I did so, and then, through sheer fluke decided to go to a bar with my co-workers Mike and Karmin. (These two are very awesome people, by the way). We ended up at a bar called Maggie's Pub. The Pub was very empty when we got there. The place had a cool English pub atmosphere, and a nice selection of Hefeweizens (which I like, but I'm sure there's some of you in the audience will mock me for liking). We got a round of Hefs, and I got a delicious Shepherd's Pie, and we started talking.
Topics of Conversation @ Maggie's Pub: The Doors, Blue Moon, New Years Eve, Al Green, Mexico, Nuclear families VS Big families, feeling music, land ownership, etc.
At one point, the beer had been drunk, and the food had been eaten. We were just sitting back to settle, when a man came by and said, "Excuse me, but the gentleman at the bar would like you to know that he's gonna tell Norwalk that you guys are drinking here."
The man at the bar was Sam Darling.
Sam came over and talked to us a little, mostly the conversation was made up of making fun of Barry, which was appreciated. This was the first time Karmin and Mike had met him, and we had a good laugh. He then headed back to the bar, and we drank a round of water to take the edge off the beers we had drank. We slowly noticed that the Pub had filled up to maxed out proportions, and felt it was time to go. As we walked out, the line to get in reached around the Pub, and directly in front of the exit was a roped off area for smoking.
One of the men inside the smoking area was Sam Darling.
He waved us over, and we joined him in what we thought would be a goodbye conversation that would last the length of a cigarette.
We didn't end up leaving until almost 2 hours later. For you see, the Ballad of Sam Darling hadn't begun until he unsuccessfully tossed aside his first cigarette, which got caught in the folds of his jeans. He didn't notice until he smelled something burning, looked down, and saw a cigarette-sized, glowing orange hole eating its way through his pant leg.
And that was only the beginning, folks.
(Let's break up this blog format with a little rhyme/verse, yes?)
His name was Sam Darling,
And his stories were startling,
Of a darker city we did not know.
And right thick in the middle,
To deal with every hurdle and riddle,
Was Sam to describe us the show.
Have you already heard this tale?
Of laws and betrayal?
And a lawyer who had too much fun?
But before we could think
He was thrown in the clink
In a cell with scary Tex Watson.
For 8 years he sat in jail
And he proved that tale
When he showed us his parole card.
He was once in High School
With a coach most cruel
His leg slipped and he fell too hard.
With pain and a prayer
He became most valuable player
Even though his tibia had been broken.
The chronology would scatter
Really, it didn't matter
We just enjoyed whatever was spoken.
He went on Oprah's show
They all wanted to know
About the time he lassoed a pony.
He wanted to keep the horse
But he lost that of course
To a little girl he claims was a phony.
Sam's stories were grand
Never with a heavy hand
Every tale shined up like gold.
Though some things that night
Don't seem quite right
I'm just telling you what I was told.
-FIN-
-Nate
Quote: "I cannot tell how the truth may be; I say the tale as 'twas told to me." -Scott 'Lay of the Last Minstrel'
Actual Quote from Tonight: "You actually played football on a broken tibia?"
[Honestly, this blog/journal entry was supposed to be the quiet uneventful one.]
I woke up and kind of lounged around the homefront. Checked some e-mail, looked at some notes for the script, and picked up some work for Friday. I watched the Star Trek special features disc and had some lunch with my dad. It was carrot soup and very good, especially with the turkey sandwich on german bread. A nice hearty meal, which is my favorite type of food. I then headed out for work and picked up some drinks along the way, perrier and orange juice, so I can have something other than the vending machine stuff.
Once I got to work, the day went as usual. Cable casting, organizing, and setting up for the City Council Meeting for that night, which happens twice a month. We had a daughter of one of our bosses come down to observe what we do as part of a project she needed for her High School project. No problem, and helped to make a cut into the daily routine. The Council meeting came and went, with almost no hitch. The only annoyance came at at the end, where a citizen, Barry, who is known for being quick to question and attack the city, stated that our cable station had been down for over a week. This is not true, as the station had some technical difficulties on a Thursday, but was up and ready by Tuesday. A small matter, but a shot at our competance.
I got to the council chambers to help bring all the equipment down. The only thing I was able to get done was wrap a cable before a different citizen came by to ask me a question.
"Hi, my name is Sam," he said.
"Hi, I'm Nathan," I replied, "What can I help you with?"
"Nothing, really," he said, "I just wanted to let you guys know that what that last guy, Barry, said was totally inaccurate. You guys do a great job, and the station had barely went down before it was up again."
"Oh, thanks, sir," I said, "We appreciate that. What was your name again?"
"Sam Darling," he replied.
We talked for a bit about what our station covers and other things before I had to head down to help close up shop for the night. I did so, and then, through sheer fluke decided to go to a bar with my co-workers Mike and Karmin. (These two are very awesome people, by the way). We ended up at a bar called Maggie's Pub. The Pub was very empty when we got there. The place had a cool English pub atmosphere, and a nice selection of Hefeweizens (which I like, but I'm sure there's some of you in the audience will mock me for liking). We got a round of Hefs, and I got a delicious Shepherd's Pie, and we started talking.
Topics of Conversation @ Maggie's Pub: The Doors, Blue Moon, New Years Eve, Al Green, Mexico, Nuclear families VS Big families, feeling music, land ownership, etc.
At one point, the beer had been drunk, and the food had been eaten. We were just sitting back to settle, when a man came by and said, "Excuse me, but the gentleman at the bar would like you to know that he's gonna tell Norwalk that you guys are drinking here."
The man at the bar was Sam Darling.
Sam came over and talked to us a little, mostly the conversation was made up of making fun of Barry, which was appreciated. This was the first time Karmin and Mike had met him, and we had a good laugh. He then headed back to the bar, and we drank a round of water to take the edge off the beers we had drank. We slowly noticed that the Pub had filled up to maxed out proportions, and felt it was time to go. As we walked out, the line to get in reached around the Pub, and directly in front of the exit was a roped off area for smoking.
One of the men inside the smoking area was Sam Darling.
He waved us over, and we joined him in what we thought would be a goodbye conversation that would last the length of a cigarette.
We didn't end up leaving until almost 2 hours later. For you see, the Ballad of Sam Darling hadn't begun until he unsuccessfully tossed aside his first cigarette, which got caught in the folds of his jeans. He didn't notice until he smelled something burning, looked down, and saw a cigarette-sized, glowing orange hole eating its way through his pant leg.
And that was only the beginning, folks.
(Let's break up this blog format with a little rhyme/verse, yes?)
His name was Sam Darling,
And his stories were startling,
Of a darker city we did not know.
And right thick in the middle,
To deal with every hurdle and riddle,
Was Sam to describe us the show.
Have you already heard this tale?
Of laws and betrayal?
And a lawyer who had too much fun?
But before we could think
He was thrown in the clink
In a cell with scary Tex Watson.
For 8 years he sat in jail
And he proved that tale
When he showed us his parole card.
He was once in High School
With a coach most cruel
His leg slipped and he fell too hard.
With pain and a prayer
He became most valuable player
Even though his tibia had been broken.
The chronology would scatter
Really, it didn't matter
We just enjoyed whatever was spoken.
He went on Oprah's show
They all wanted to know
About the time he lassoed a pony.
He wanted to keep the horse
But he lost that of course
To a little girl he claims was a phony.
Sam's stories were grand
Never with a heavy hand
Every tale shined up like gold.
Though some things that night
Don't seem quite right
I'm just telling you what I was told.
-FIN-
-Nate
Cats and Zombies
January 4, 2010:
[Contrary to the date that this is being posted by blogger, this is a journal entry for the 4th.]
I woke up and headed to Comics Unlimited to pick up a copy of Blackest Night I had asked them to hold for me. I really love that comic shop. Its my favorite. And though I might be breaking some other shop's hearts stating this, I know that I have found the shop for me. Nancy, the owner, is incredibly nice. Mark, the Second-In-Command, is incredibly nice. Lainey, one of the clerks, is incredibly nice. Denise, also a clerk there, is incredibly nice. (I think I'm missing someone, but I don't go to the shop on the days that person is there). How can one store be bursting at the seams with crazy awesome people? It should be impossible. Today, Mark and Lainey were manning the store.
Topics That I Talked About @ Comics Unlimited: Cats, Ringtones, Ska, Guitars, Vegan Food, Scams, Cell Phone companies, and Trailers for B-Movies.
Its getting harder and harder to leave the place once I get there. If only they would hire me. (Wink, wink, Nancy...) :-D
I had a Green Gummy Bear smoothie at Jamba Juice (which started out okay, but quickly stopped being okay) before I headed to work. Once there, I had to organize tapes and DVDs. We are piling up over there, and have to start clearing out the backlog. Work went by quickly and I headed over to hang out with Aaron and Amy for some Pho and Left 4 Dead 2.
The perfect end to a quiet night.
-Nate
Nate Note: I actually came up with a FanFic sequel to the whole game I call "5 Left Alive." Its basically a thinly veiled excuse to cast myself and my friends in a Zombie Apocalypse. Yep, I'm that much of a sad geek. I even went home and made fake title art for it:
Sunday, January 3, 2010
All Growed Up
Random song: "Where Is My Mind?" by the Pixies.
Quote of the Day: "The only way to have a friend is to be one." -Emerson
[Well, well, looky here! I found me a fancy, dandy quotation book! From 1955, no less! I'm gonna use it to purty up my blog/journal. It feels good to be pretentious.]
Woke up around 10:30 am. I realized that I would be late for the orientation at the place that was trying to scam me for money. A contented smile stretched across my face and I felt deeply accomplished, knowing that ARN was never going to see my bearded face again.
That felt like a good start to the day.
My dad made burgers for lunch, which were really good. But for some reason, he really wanted to know what I thought about them, going so far as to ask me to break it down taste wise and to compare to other burger chains. It was very odd, but I went along with it.
"Okay... well, the burger is really good, just to start," I said, staring off into thought, "the bun is soft and has a good flavor to it, but isn't as thick as I prefer hamburger buns to be..." and I'll stop that right there cuz I'm already boring myself asleep. I then moved on to chains, and how I ranked them:
5. In-N-Out
4. Knowlwood's
3. Fuddrucker
2. A burger that my dad made once, almost by accident.
1. Tom's Farms
I got stuck on #1, realizing that I couldn't remember the name for the life of me. My mom actually sad it by accident. Now, this is not to be mistaken by the produce store that's nearby. The Tom's Farms I'm referring to is this place off the freeway somewhere all by itself. It was like some silly little trading outpost converted into a chic little tourist trap. But the food was astonishingly delicious, and the last time I went was when I was 14(?).
Really, the #1 of anybody's favorite food/stuff/activity is often the one version that they can't get anymore. And I'm not even talking about the store or restaurant or whatever being closed. Its more like the taste of the first experience. The first realization that something can be really amazing. That's what #1 usually is, and there's nothing wrong with that. And its hard to be as happy as you were when you were a kid.
After that we watched Mr. & Mrs. Smith on Blu-Ray. I really like that movie, and I always seem to forget how funny Brad Pitt is as a comedic actor.
I then went on some errands till about 5:00 pm, at which point I was already late getting over to Nan and Myles' house, where I had already made plans with them for dinner and hanging out. Their house is an awesome place out in Fullerton, barely 15 minutes away from where I live, and going there reminds me of how grown-ups do things. They have good-paying jobs, a home, a happy marriage, two dogs (Brock and Scout), and a baby on the way. I'm 26, and I'm just starting to look at apartments to be a roommate at, let alone settle down and give the domestic life a decent shot. Man-child, table for one, please.
We watched the second Family Guy Star Wars special "Something, Something, Dark Side." It had some decent laughs, but the second Robot Chicken special is way funnier, AGAIN. One day, Seth Green and Seth McFarlane are going to have a showdown for the right to be the only Seth in showbiz. (Are there other Seths? I'm not sure...)
Myles made some damn good Lasagna that I would have ate to the point that they would have lost respect for me. We then played SAN JUAN, which is a pretty fun card game, but it takes some time to get the hang of, and when I do I shall crush all that stand in my way!
I headed home around 9:00, since I didn't want to keep them up any later since they had jobs that were worth losing. And now I am writing down this journal...
...okay, this is it. Right here. This is the moment that I always hated whenever I tried in the past to write a journal down. The self-disgust. It kicks in hard, especially at the end of an entry. Cuz, really, nothing big happend today. Really. Read this entry again if you disgree, cuz you'll change your mind fast. I much more prefer the first entry over this one. Way more excitement. Way more intrigue. Way more INTERESTING.
But I guess that goes for any show or season, right? Some episodes are just going to be better than others. I'll just have to accept that. I'm already anticipating the one sentence entry down the line. It can't be avoided. Some days are just wasted. But I can at least say today was not wasted, just uneventful.
-Nate
NATE NOTE: New music I'm listening to right now is a band called "Vaudeville" and "The Discovery of A World Inside the Moone" by The Apples In Stereo. So far so good.
Quote of the Day: "The only way to have a friend is to be one." -Emerson
[Well, well, looky here! I found me a fancy, dandy quotation book! From 1955, no less! I'm gonna use it to purty up my blog/journal. It feels good to be pretentious.]
Woke up around 10:30 am. I realized that I would be late for the orientation at the place that was trying to scam me for money. A contented smile stretched across my face and I felt deeply accomplished, knowing that ARN was never going to see my bearded face again.
That felt like a good start to the day.
My dad made burgers for lunch, which were really good. But for some reason, he really wanted to know what I thought about them, going so far as to ask me to break it down taste wise and to compare to other burger chains. It was very odd, but I went along with it.
"Okay... well, the burger is really good, just to start," I said, staring off into thought, "the bun is soft and has a good flavor to it, but isn't as thick as I prefer hamburger buns to be..." and I'll stop that right there cuz I'm already boring myself asleep. I then moved on to chains, and how I ranked them:
5. In-N-Out
4. Knowlwood's
3. Fuddrucker
2. A burger that my dad made once, almost by accident.
1. Tom's Farms
I got stuck on #1, realizing that I couldn't remember the name for the life of me. My mom actually sad it by accident. Now, this is not to be mistaken by the produce store that's nearby. The Tom's Farms I'm referring to is this place off the freeway somewhere all by itself. It was like some silly little trading outpost converted into a chic little tourist trap. But the food was astonishingly delicious, and the last time I went was when I was 14(?).
Really, the #1 of anybody's favorite food/stuff/activity is often the one version that they can't get anymore. And I'm not even talking about the store or restaurant or whatever being closed. Its more like the taste of the first experience. The first realization that something can be really amazing. That's what #1 usually is, and there's nothing wrong with that. And its hard to be as happy as you were when you were a kid.
After that we watched Mr. & Mrs. Smith on Blu-Ray. I really like that movie, and I always seem to forget how funny Brad Pitt is as a comedic actor.
I then went on some errands till about 5:00 pm, at which point I was already late getting over to Nan and Myles' house, where I had already made plans with them for dinner and hanging out. Their house is an awesome place out in Fullerton, barely 15 minutes away from where I live, and going there reminds me of how grown-ups do things. They have good-paying jobs, a home, a happy marriage, two dogs (Brock and Scout), and a baby on the way. I'm 26, and I'm just starting to look at apartments to be a roommate at, let alone settle down and give the domestic life a decent shot. Man-child, table for one, please.
We watched the second Family Guy Star Wars special "Something, Something, Dark Side." It had some decent laughs, but the second Robot Chicken special is way funnier, AGAIN. One day, Seth Green and Seth McFarlane are going to have a showdown for the right to be the only Seth in showbiz. (Are there other Seths? I'm not sure...)
Myles made some damn good Lasagna that I would have ate to the point that they would have lost respect for me. We then played SAN JUAN, which is a pretty fun card game, but it takes some time to get the hang of, and when I do I shall crush all that stand in my way!
I headed home around 9:00, since I didn't want to keep them up any later since they had jobs that were worth losing. And now I am writing down this journal...
...okay, this is it. Right here. This is the moment that I always hated whenever I tried in the past to write a journal down. The self-disgust. It kicks in hard, especially at the end of an entry. Cuz, really, nothing big happend today. Really. Read this entry again if you disgree, cuz you'll change your mind fast. I much more prefer the first entry over this one. Way more excitement. Way more intrigue. Way more INTERESTING.
But I guess that goes for any show or season, right? Some episodes are just going to be better than others. I'll just have to accept that. I'm already anticipating the one sentence entry down the line. It can't be avoided. Some days are just wasted. But I can at least say today was not wasted, just uneventful.
-Nate
NATE NOTE: New music I'm listening to right now is a band called "Vaudeville" and "The Discovery of A World Inside the Moone" by The Apples In Stereo. So far so good.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Weapons of Mass Distraction
I'm starting my Journal for 2010.... one day late. *sigh*
Okay, so my New Year's Resolution (well, one of them, anyway) is to truly, obsessively catalog my life from 1/1/10 all the way to 12/31/10.
Obviously, since the first of 365 entries is already starting on the SECOND day of the year (1/2/10), I'm off to a usual Nathan Schulz start. Which is a nice way of saying "Grand ideas, lazy work ethic."
I'm pretty sure one of your resolutions is to be more merciful, so here I go asking for mercy. I'm now going to change my plan from documenting 1/1/10 to 12/31/10 into a new improved 1/2/10 to 1/2/11. It even looks a little nicer, I think.
Okay, here it goes....
January 2, 2010:
I woke up early for me. About 8:00 am. That is early for me, but not for most people. My sleep schedule is attrocious, and this will be one of the things I will work on this coming year.
I got ready and headed and over to Justin's house to pick him up for the drive to LA. We were going there for a job interview/audition for "American Radio Network." We could either be On Air Announcers, Technical Directors, or Freelance Producers. The pay for an employee gig looked to be from $15 to $20 an hour, while the Freelance gig looked to have the potential to make almost $200 a show. Wow, who could pass this up, right? This job sounded too good to be true.
...job sounded too good to be true.
...too good to be true.
*ECHO*
Yeah.
So I picked up Justin and we headed over to where the interview/audition was being held. It was this less-than-impressive building with a commanding view of a lovely 99 Cent Store right across the street from it. Oh, be still my heart. Oh, and was that a crappy donut place right next to you? Will my wildest dreams never cease to be answered? The whole place looked like a sad mockery of a bad idea.
So we ate at said crappy donut place. We regreted that decision, but were glad to find that we had killed a sufficient amount of time to head over for the interview/audition/what-the-hell-is-this-again?
As we walked through the beige doors of this beige building the first thing I saw in the "lobby" was a Pin Ball Machine with a lame sci-fi theme. And behind the machine was a little alcove that I figured was supposed to be connected to a secretary's desk. Instead, there was a large bearded man with an obscure T-shirt, looking at me with bored disinterest.
"Announcer auditions?" said the man who's soul must have died when he sat down at that desk many mornings ago.
"Uh, yeah," I responded, with growing concern.
"Sign in," he automatically replied without even listening to me.
I did so, and was immediately reminded of Faust.
The bored man held down a buzzer that unlocked the door for me to enter deeper into their sanctum. Oh yeah, everyone knows buzzing a door unlocked is the height of class. Justin went through the same process, and we were then told to walk down a hall and turn left at the rope. There was no rope, but there was a large lady handing out pencils and pointing towards a door. And through this door was...
A sad, desperate room with sad, desperate people.
The room was darkly lit, and was no bigger than a small High School History class. There was row upon row of mismatched chairs, each with a clipboard of its own sitting blankly on it. And at the other side of the room was on an old Big Screen Projector TV, the kind that kids in 1986 would have sad was "rad." But on the second day of 2010, was just a low-definition warning sign. And playing on this TV was the unexpectedly saddest story ever.
It was the Story of Radio, and to make a long story short, everybody involved died either miserable, broke, or both. I can't make this up, folks. This was 100% true.
My god that room was depressing.
So after the documentary that nearly put us to sleep finally winded down to a wrist-slitting end, the interview/audition began. The speaker was a fellow I shall change the name of to Honathan Jurtz. (The smart ones of you will figure out my clever disguise and know to stay the hell away from this man).
I have to give it to Honathan, the dude knew how to spin a tale. He mentioned money enough to distract those who had none. He mentioned fame in modest doses, just enough to whet the appetite of those who wanted to be famous. And he went into depth with the level of creative freedom available, for suckers like me who wanted to create something they could name their own. Honathan was really, really good. To the point that I forgot to ask basic questions like, "Uh, excuse me, but what the F**K stations does American Radio Network actually play on?" You know, silly questions that would only raise other silly questions.
I was too distracted by the Golden Picture he painted. I hope you burn in hell, Jurtz!
But his best Weapon of Mass Distraction was the Audition piece. This horrible little commercial about Paradise Wine. And Honathan knew how to put just enough emphasis on how important it was to get the audition JUST RIGHT. I mean you could be nervous, of course, but if you mess up TOO much, well, shucks the job might not be yours....
It was the perfect amount of stress to keep us off our toes. DIA-friggin'-BOLICAL.
And then they called people in to be auditioned. Four at a time, and quickly at that. You couldn't possibly feel confident on your reading, especially with only a few minutes to possibly work on it. So you would be stressed out about how well you would do BEFORE, and then you couldn't help but worry about how you did AFTER.
Did I mention that he added this bonus amount of distraction during the Q&A session? Like we could think of anything other than our prospects at that point.
And the cherry on top of all this? We would have to call in to know if we got the job or not by 6:00 pm that night. So we would spend the whole day worrying about making the cut, or trying to distract ourselves from it, which would in turn keep us, again, from asking silly questions like "Wait, isn't this job too good to be true?"
Anyways, I got wonderfully distracted by my car, which decided I was out of engine coolant. You know, the stuff that keeps your car's engine from catching on fire and killing you? Yeah, that was fun. Justin and I went to Jiffy Lube, I got to have the honor of spending $97 on my car to have the coolant replaced. Unfortunately, the little warning light would not go away, so I ended up turning around and going right back to Jiffy Lube to make sure I wouldn't die from car fire. They assured me that the radiator was working fine, and that the sensor was just acting up. I'm still waiting for any surprises, on that front.
After getting Jiffy Lubed, the next stop was Amoeba Records. Why? Damn it, I needed the simplicity of looking for cheap music, that's why! It was really packed, and cheap music was procured. Amoeba is awesome. There isn't much to report on that front.
And then we headed back to the O.C. to get something to eat, and to leave the tainted beauty of LA behind.
We were eating at Lucille's when the time hit 6:00 pm. We called... and were both congratulated on our "Accepted" status. We were asked to come to the next Orientation meeting! *mumble mumble* don't forget the non-refundable $40 *mumble mumble* You are now an employee of ARN Broadcasting! Yay!
AN EASY VICTORY!
And because it was so easy, we stopped and thought to ourselves, "Wait one muthertruckin' second! That was way too damn easy. Wait another muthertruckin' second! What $40? No one said anything about a non-refundable $40!"
Finally, our cynicism kicked into full gear. Justin was even more cynical than me. And I vowed that when I got home, I would look up American Radio Network online.
And oh boy, did I!
I googled them for a quick review:
The only entry that didn't mention "TOTAL SCAM" in it was the ARN Broadcasting website. Everyone else, and I'm including the Better Business Bureau, said to keep away from the American Radio Network. I should have done this before, I thought to myself. But what can I say? I liked the dream for the few moments it lasted.
I look back now, and find myself nearly impressed with the sheer obviousness of their obvious scam. By the absolute ambition and balls. It was hid so poorly, you almost found yourself believing it. I'm not even angry (and I attribute this to the fact that I did not give them a damn cent).
Really. They gave me a story to tell. They gave me a kick in the head to start thinking big again. In fact, I came up with a really fun show to do. ARN won't get their filthy paws on it, but the idea is mine either way.
Also, I had BBQ for dinner, so really, how angry can I get?
-Nate (Day One)
Okay, so my New Year's Resolution (well, one of them, anyway) is to truly, obsessively catalog my life from 1/1/10 all the way to 12/31/10.
Obviously, since the first of 365 entries is already starting on the SECOND day of the year (1/2/10), I'm off to a usual Nathan Schulz start. Which is a nice way of saying "Grand ideas, lazy work ethic."
I'm pretty sure one of your resolutions is to be more merciful, so here I go asking for mercy. I'm now going to change my plan from documenting 1/1/10 to 12/31/10 into a new improved 1/2/10 to 1/2/11. It even looks a little nicer, I think.
Okay, here it goes....
January 2, 2010:
I woke up early for me. About 8:00 am. That is early for me, but not for most people. My sleep schedule is attrocious, and this will be one of the things I will work on this coming year.
I got ready and headed and over to Justin's house to pick him up for the drive to LA. We were going there for a job interview/audition for "American Radio Network." We could either be On Air Announcers, Technical Directors, or Freelance Producers. The pay for an employee gig looked to be from $15 to $20 an hour, while the Freelance gig looked to have the potential to make almost $200 a show. Wow, who could pass this up, right? This job sounded too good to be true.
...job sounded too good to be true.
...too good to be true.
*ECHO*
Yeah.
So I picked up Justin and we headed over to where the interview/audition was being held. It was this less-than-impressive building with a commanding view of a lovely 99 Cent Store right across the street from it. Oh, be still my heart. Oh, and was that a crappy donut place right next to you? Will my wildest dreams never cease to be answered? The whole place looked like a sad mockery of a bad idea.
So we ate at said crappy donut place. We regreted that decision, but were glad to find that we had killed a sufficient amount of time to head over for the interview/audition/what-the-hell-is-this-again?
As we walked through the beige doors of this beige building the first thing I saw in the "lobby" was a Pin Ball Machine with a lame sci-fi theme. And behind the machine was a little alcove that I figured was supposed to be connected to a secretary's desk. Instead, there was a large bearded man with an obscure T-shirt, looking at me with bored disinterest.
"Announcer auditions?" said the man who's soul must have died when he sat down at that desk many mornings ago.
"Uh, yeah," I responded, with growing concern.
"Sign in," he automatically replied without even listening to me.
I did so, and was immediately reminded of Faust.
The bored man held down a buzzer that unlocked the door for me to enter deeper into their sanctum. Oh yeah, everyone knows buzzing a door unlocked is the height of class. Justin went through the same process, and we were then told to walk down a hall and turn left at the rope. There was no rope, but there was a large lady handing out pencils and pointing towards a door. And through this door was...
A sad, desperate room with sad, desperate people.
The room was darkly lit, and was no bigger than a small High School History class. There was row upon row of mismatched chairs, each with a clipboard of its own sitting blankly on it. And at the other side of the room was on an old Big Screen Projector TV, the kind that kids in 1986 would have sad was "rad." But on the second day of 2010, was just a low-definition warning sign. And playing on this TV was the unexpectedly saddest story ever.
It was the Story of Radio, and to make a long story short, everybody involved died either miserable, broke, or both. I can't make this up, folks. This was 100% true.
My god that room was depressing.
So after the documentary that nearly put us to sleep finally winded down to a wrist-slitting end, the interview/audition began. The speaker was a fellow I shall change the name of to Honathan Jurtz. (The smart ones of you will figure out my clever disguise and know to stay the hell away from this man).
I have to give it to Honathan, the dude knew how to spin a tale. He mentioned money enough to distract those who had none. He mentioned fame in modest doses, just enough to whet the appetite of those who wanted to be famous. And he went into depth with the level of creative freedom available, for suckers like me who wanted to create something they could name their own. Honathan was really, really good. To the point that I forgot to ask basic questions like, "Uh, excuse me, but what the F**K stations does American Radio Network actually play on?" You know, silly questions that would only raise other silly questions.
I was too distracted by the Golden Picture he painted. I hope you burn in hell, Jurtz!
But his best Weapon of Mass Distraction was the Audition piece. This horrible little commercial about Paradise Wine. And Honathan knew how to put just enough emphasis on how important it was to get the audition JUST RIGHT. I mean you could be nervous, of course, but if you mess up TOO much, well, shucks the job might not be yours....
It was the perfect amount of stress to keep us off our toes. DIA-friggin'-BOLICAL.
And then they called people in to be auditioned. Four at a time, and quickly at that. You couldn't possibly feel confident on your reading, especially with only a few minutes to possibly work on it. So you would be stressed out about how well you would do BEFORE, and then you couldn't help but worry about how you did AFTER.
Did I mention that he added this bonus amount of distraction during the Q&A session? Like we could think of anything other than our prospects at that point.
And the cherry on top of all this? We would have to call in to know if we got the job or not by 6:00 pm that night. So we would spend the whole day worrying about making the cut, or trying to distract ourselves from it, which would in turn keep us, again, from asking silly questions like "Wait, isn't this job too good to be true?"
Anyways, I got wonderfully distracted by my car, which decided I was out of engine coolant. You know, the stuff that keeps your car's engine from catching on fire and killing you? Yeah, that was fun. Justin and I went to Jiffy Lube, I got to have the honor of spending $97 on my car to have the coolant replaced. Unfortunately, the little warning light would not go away, so I ended up turning around and going right back to Jiffy Lube to make sure I wouldn't die from car fire. They assured me that the radiator was working fine, and that the sensor was just acting up. I'm still waiting for any surprises, on that front.
After getting Jiffy Lubed, the next stop was Amoeba Records. Why? Damn it, I needed the simplicity of looking for cheap music, that's why! It was really packed, and cheap music was procured. Amoeba is awesome. There isn't much to report on that front.
And then we headed back to the O.C. to get something to eat, and to leave the tainted beauty of LA behind.
We were eating at Lucille's when the time hit 6:00 pm. We called... and were both congratulated on our "Accepted" status. We were asked to come to the next Orientation meeting! *mumble mumble* don't forget the non-refundable $40 *mumble mumble* You are now an employee of ARN Broadcasting! Yay!
AN EASY VICTORY!
And because it was so easy, we stopped and thought to ourselves, "Wait one muthertruckin' second! That was way too damn easy. Wait another muthertruckin' second! What $40? No one said anything about a non-refundable $40!"
Finally, our cynicism kicked into full gear. Justin was even more cynical than me. And I vowed that when I got home, I would look up American Radio Network online.
And oh boy, did I!
I googled them for a quick review:
The only entry that didn't mention "TOTAL SCAM" in it was the ARN Broadcasting website. Everyone else, and I'm including the Better Business Bureau, said to keep away from the American Radio Network. I should have done this before, I thought to myself. But what can I say? I liked the dream for the few moments it lasted.
I look back now, and find myself nearly impressed with the sheer obviousness of their obvious scam. By the absolute ambition and balls. It was hid so poorly, you almost found yourself believing it. I'm not even angry (and I attribute this to the fact that I did not give them a damn cent).
Really. They gave me a story to tell. They gave me a kick in the head to start thinking big again. In fact, I came up with a really fun show to do. ARN won't get their filthy paws on it, but the idea is mine either way.
Also, I had BBQ for dinner, so really, how angry can I get?
-Nate (Day One)
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