christ666's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The inflating and deflating of the heart, lots of alcohol, and a little hope... I just got off work and I have some time to kill before I see the urologist. If I hadn't touched on it before, I've been diagnosed with prostatitis which needless to say is hard to cure. So I figured I'd blog my entire weekend while listening to some DMB. I woke around noon on Friday trying to find an excuse to stay in bed, but without luck I arose in a strong "overslept" fatigue and spent a few hours on the net. Killed time by playing the last few levels on Halo 3 before beating it all together. Took a shower and dressed for the evening out at Victor's that night. Around four, I slunked to the couch and decided to start reading Watchmen. As I've stated before, Watchmen is one of the most brilliant comic pieces of our time. I try reading it without imagining what the future adaptation is going to make of it. To be fair, Zack Snyder did a decent job with 300. They've posted some screenshots that look almost identical to the scenes in the panels. I called Rachel, a girl I had met at Moxie who so graciously gave me her number. Chatted for a tad before I asked for a coffee date. Planned for the next day, we hung up leaving me proud for my newfound boldness. Finally, it came time to leave in which I arrived at my parents' place where my sister picked me up. We got to Victor's and found a close seat for a normal routine at the bar: casting judgement to the inebriated, ridiculous dancers. The night was very pleasant, as are all the times out with Jody and Scott. At one point, Brenda (who definetely gets the award for friend of the year) and her friend Kristin arrived. I always seem to be pleasantly happy when I see Brenda, so it was a nice surprise. Definetely the highlight of the night was spending more time with McCartney. McCartney displays some of the most classic characteristics of what one would call a "dreamgirl". She's downright beautiful, fun, and has an amazing sense of humor. For those that don't know, I DO NOT dance. I despise the thought of me on that dance floor shaking what little ass I have. But I'd dance with her over and over again. Words were exchanged that left us hopeful for the future. She has such a soft face. Fuck. No regrets, no apologies. I think of these things, and I wonder if this is just a passing infatuation. Something sparked because of the hopeful possibility. Ugh, that hopeful possibility. But then I think of how she makes a point to show I'm not the commiserable fuck I think I am. We got along well. There's chemistry. All we need is that chance to see what it could be. I'll stick with that. My parents show at the end of the night, and we finish off with one last pitcher and a requested song for McCartney. We leave the bar for Shari's for a bite. Laughs exchanged and good times had. We drove back with McCartney resting against my shoulder. Obvious to say it took all the strength of my gentleman side not to kiss her... which probably would have been followed by a backhand across the face. I still play that moment in my head when I might have that chance. Drove back home to an already asleep brother and sister-in-law. Wrote my 100th entry in Myspace. Grabbed a glass of water and passed out to some Superman II: The Richard Donner Cut. Awoke on Saturday around 2pm with a stronger slumber than the day previous. Chatted with Sarah a little and Mom on the phone before I got dressed to head to for a date with Rachel. On the way, I got a call from Kort of whom I hadn't spoken to for about a week and a half. We bullshat about Guitar Hero III and it's hammer-on technique updates. Talked a little about the future of CWD, which at this point is still up in the air. However, Kort and I still write riffs in hope that things might pick back up. Arrived at the date fifteen minutes late to an early Rachel. I felt kind of like a bag of douche at this point, which wasn't made up for my excessive apologizing. We sat and had a nice little convo for about two hours. She's an interesting cat who swing dances, has Type I Diabetes, and hopes to be an endocrinologist. I felt a tad guilty however as my attention was divided between her and McCartney floating in and out of my head. Thinking about her eyes, her smile, and her ability to hold a spoon with her chin. My parents were decorating their new tree with the nieces and nephew, so I arrived shortly after my date. Toad was there with McCartney, which (as you can imagine) brought a smile to my face. However, when buying the tree and wrestling with the kids... somehow a trivial factor came into play that seemed to have floored us for no real reason. Of course, the rest of the night proved to be slightly melancholy... which I tried to divert with some encouraging texts. I felt like a selfish bastard for letting something bother me so, when McCartney has so much on her plate. She's so strong, but I don't need to be adding to her shit by how I handle things. The key is to bottle it up, since at this moment that is all I can do. While waiting for dinner I did some notes for my CNA class. I had recieved a 100% on my midterms, so I thought I'd keep up the good work with careful and monotonous notetaking. I reviewed a few notes for the Thai Dave redraft I plan on doing. I jotted down some quick notes for the Comfortably Numb redraft and tried to put more ideas down for a complete new full length script I plan on writing. Lately I've done nothing but write short scripts, but as nothing is really being done with those I figured I should get back to full lengths. However, I became a tad too distraught. After saying goodbye, I left for Brenda's to bring her cookies and for her to cheer me up. She did so with her helpful sweetness, and with an early Christmas present in the form of Kevin Smith's latest book and a collection of Marvel postage stamps. I vegged with her to some Superbad and potato chips, with short intermissions of calls from my sister. I left after the flick and arrived home in a slightly depressive state. Layed in bed for about an hour contemplating the strangest change in shift regarding the recent turn of events. I eventually threw in the new Pink Panther flick and quickly fell asleep around 4 am. I kept waking every couple hours with distressing dreams. Not surprisingly (since she was on my mind so) I had one about McCartney involving a sort of replay of the recent sitch. (Sitch is short for situation, for those who didn't know) Finally got out of bed around 2 pm again, feeling confused. Things weren't really much different from before (as far as that hopeful possibility)... yet we took it so hard. I fiddled with the guitar, trying to work out some new tunes and lyric ideas. Usually when something like this goes down, I write a song... but I suppose I just didn't know how to put it into words. Considering things kind of jumped a little fast... this deal with McCartney has to be handled carefully and without too quick a reaction. However, as far as inspiring feelings that I have received from the past couple weeks... I've come up with a witty little chorus for song that I can't wait for her to "just so happen to hear" at a future show. Quick note: Crash into Me being played right now. I spend a little time thinking about Elegy and how I planned on having a Christmas show within this week. Obviously the idea seem ludicrous and it sends me into a deep questioning of my future session. Shortly after, I avoid asking myself the dreadful question of what am I worth and proceed to the shower. I dress in scrubs and head out for work. On the way, I stop by Toad's for a smoke and we talk a little more optimistically about the sitch. Scotty said some hopeful words and I start realizing how lucky I am to have my siblings as my close friends. I arrive to work and enjoy a slow night. I got to read my new Christmas gift (again, thank you Brenda) and only had to suffer through a couple stupid ass questions from a dumbfuck nurse. Texted Toad and shared a couple of words with McCartney... making me out to look like a semi-romantic slob with absolutely no character. But again, I'm still hopeful. I think I might be developing an allergy to latex. Took blood pressures on everyone and rocked a salad by 5 am. Spent a few hours piecing together setlists in my head, which is a chronic passtime at work. By offtime, I got to drive home to a calming snow. This is actually the kind of snow that I want to film a particular scene from Ghostman in. Slow, without wind. Peaceful. I'm assfucking tired and am still waiting to call the uro. Tonight I'm off and am hoping to grab a beer with Nick to talk about a new feature we'll film Saturday. A so far untitled piece, it's a short about a guy developing feelings for a gal... then develops chlamydia. He spends the night with his friends avoiding the crush and trying to track down who he got VD from. I know what you're thinking... classy. I have much to think about, and I hope things smooth over. It's always discouraging to think of the kind of shit I get into, considering a couple months ago I had slept with someone because I thought a relationship might develop from an unrequited crush, even after constant hesitation. An event I call the third mistake of 2007. All I can do now is give my silenced support, while dreading the fact that it might be a few weeks before I can see McCartney again. Until I do, I can always play the thought in my head: Me, her, lips, and nothing else... perhaps to Cyclone if necessary. 10:24 a.m. - 2007-12-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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