Thursday, July 31, 2008

Winds

The pit in my stomach grows as things change again and again. What kind of life is this I'm leading? I don't know what I'm doing about some things lately. I'm just gliding along on changing wind currents.
Now I'm reminded of an acting class where I had to do a monologue from "Orpheus Descending." The character talks about how he wants to be a legless bird that just floats along on the wind. Maybe that monologue embedded itself a little too much into my mind without me knowing. I remember the class ran by people raising their hands to do their monologues. I almost NEVER raised mine. I would just sit there and watch and occasionally be forced to perform. There were some really good people in that class. I don't think people learned much. The people who were good were good from the beginning. The people who were bad pretty much stayed bad. Some of the people in the middle maybe learned a thing or two but mostly people were pretty much what they were.
I think I got an A-. The teacher commented on my lack of participation. It was a decent grade for doing sub-par work which involves me just sitting back and gliding along. I don't want to think too much about that.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Cannery Row

I wonder if I would write more if I lived on Cannery Row. Does the ghost of John Steinbeck patrol the streets? Does he hide around corners waiting to pass out tickets for writer's block? If so, I would owe a fortune and my writer's license would definitely be suspended, possibly even revoked.
Maybe I should move there and shuffle the street drinking coffee and carrying a moleskin in my back pocket. I can spend my mornings watching the sea lions that live where the sardine canning factories used to stand. I bet the sea lions have names like Dora and Mack and Doc and they'll refer to me as "The Chinaman," as I quietly stroll through their town searching for inspiration.

Cats

I had a dream about cats running around like crazy last night. Of course there were Herbert and Ruby, but for some reason there were a lot more. There was a cat who looked like Queen Elizabeth I, one that looked like Tony the Tiger. There were cats that had stripes on them that were perfectly straight lines in different colors. I was worried because my apartment manager just walked in without knocking and saw all the cats, wondering why there were so many. I said B and me were watching them for some friends. AR was over and ate some pasta I had cooked.

Monday, July 28, 2008

The Bell Jar

I feel it descending. After days into weeks into months of nothing to do... no responsibility, only tennis, traveling, watching TV. It seems like work is going to start up Monday. I'm still not 100% sure it's going to happen. We were told it was going to start two weeks ago and I was told two days before that day that the start was pushed indefinitely. I had really found my groove of having nothing to do. I actually have had an amazing time. I haven't accomplished much but I got to go to Palm Springs and New York and Milwaukee with B. We went to St. Louis and I got to meet someone I've heard about for over a year, part of the famed ABC Trinity. I felt it was a kind of test and I hope I passed. Now I'm on the other side of the Mississippi with my family. I got to see and spend time with all the people that were important than me and now it's back to the grind... My stomach kind of hurts thinking about getting up early in the morning and spending the day being told what to do over and over and over again, bending to others' whims. I'm grateful for the job, I'm grateful for the opportunity to earn some money and pay off my bills, but it's such a shift.
When I walked into my parents house on Saturday, I felt like I've never felt before. I felt like I wanted to put down my things and stay... indefinitely. I'm really close with my family, but I've always realized I need to have my own life. But spending time with my brothers and sisters and mom and dad and all the other assorted offspring really was amazing and made me greedy for more. I guess it's not in the cards for me to live my ideal lifestyle. I guess I still have some dues to pay. I don't know. I'm just a little melancholy and sad. I want to go lie down in my room until I'm ready to face the world again.
But at least I have something to look forward to in California. A certain someone who's been traveling more than me.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

The Perfect Moment

I could never master the perfect duck bill, not like my sister could. She knew the exact way to position the Pringles in her mouth to form a cookie cutter replication of the feathered swimmers that quacked and honked behind us all the way to 12-mile island. My potato chip always broke in my mouth and my sister and I would laugh as I grabbed her sun tanned arm, knowing even in my 12-year old mind, that was the perfect moment. A moment I would spend decades searching for, chasing, like the first hit of a crack pipe.
We didn't know then that years later, when 12-year old you should have been making duck bills, you had to learn how to swallow with one side of your mouth. When you should have been creating your perfect moment, you were living your worst...our worst. There would be no more moments. No more longing for summers on the Mississippi. No more sun tans or feathered wings.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Thin Ice

I'm nervous going to ice skating tonight. It's been three weeks since I've been. There was no class last week and the week before I was in Milwaukee. I hate missing class. In 3 1/2 years of college, I missed one class. After being up late for work the night before, I overslept for Early American Literature and felt horrible. I'm going to be missing my first week of my tennis league this week too with a trip to St. Louis. It will be the first time I've missed since I started playing in the league.
I don't know why I'm obsessed with not missing things. It was the opposite when I was younger. I would figure out an excuse for my mom to not make me go, or she would pick me up early. I think getting older, I didn't want to miss out on anything. I didn't want to come back to some place and feel the least out of control. Maybe it's because part of me doesn't want that feeling that the world goes pretty much the same when I'm not there.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Worst. Double. Feature. Ever.

Due to a scheduling mix-up, B and I ended up with tickets to "The Dark Knight" and "Mamma Mia!" on the same night, one right after the other. It was quite disconcerting.
"The Dark Knight" was incredible and lived up to all its hype. Yes, Heath Ledger is disturbing and amazing and mesmerizing, but so are all the other actors involved. Christian Bale is the best Batman ever--so conflicted as he falls deeper into his double life of vigilante justice. Gary Oldman, Aaron Eckhart, Michael Caine, and Morgan Freeman are just as fun to watch. And then there's the actual movie. It is the least enclosed of any comic book movie I've seen. While a lot of films based on comic books have a feeling like they're removed from reality, "The Dark Knight" lives and breathes in the real world with towering skyscrapers and dark skies above. The movie deals with good and evil and the line between them and psychology and human nature and terrorism and is so elaborate and ponderous, in the best way possible. It's nice to see a movie with tons of outlandish violence that isn't afraid to show the price of that violence, and how everyone, good and bad, can be at fault. It shows that sometimes we have to make hard choices for the right reasons, including doing wrong to do right.
Needless to say, "The Dark Knight" put me in a dark place. A kind of haze settled around my brain and I meandered to another screen where the previews for "Mamma Mia!" had started. Once the movie started, my haze was immediately confronted with a washed-out, cotton candy acid trip. The bright colors! The amazingly catchy music! The actors hamming it up! As shocking as "The Dark Knight" was for its deep, dark psychology, "Mamma Mia" was just as shocking for its unrelenting, self-acknowledged cheesiness. It wasn't anywhere near subtle and most of its part felt like they were shouting at you, begging for attention. But it was what it was and fascinating in carnival side-show kind of way. I'm all for actors singing their own songs, but some of the cast made me realize why people do get dubbed.
The combined force of these too very differing visions left me somewhat punch-drunk for a while afterwards. But I'm glad I went to both. In this day and age, it's always a pleasure to see movies that tries to steer away from being generic and actually have a point-of-view.

Monday, July 21, 2008

The Long Shot

The winds of change are blowing and I am left wondering what my life will look like this time next year. Life is weird and unexpected and often the things that are the most consistent, the most unfailing, the most secure, are the things that shift and rock us to our core. I often wonder if there are any certainties in life. Is there one thing that you know, without question, will be there when you wake up in the morning?
I see a woman every week at the dog park. Her hair color changes from pink to platinum to black and then back to pink. She drives a black Mini Cooper and she has three dogs in all different sizes. A couple months ago, her English Bulldog was stolen from her house. She woke up in the morning and he was gone, just like that. I imagine when she went to bed the night before, she assumed, without question, that when she woke up the next morning, he would be there, wagging his little stubby tail and smiling through the mask of drool that covered his smushed up face.
I guess there are no sure things, maybe that's why people often bet on the long shot. Four years ago, my friend James and I placed a bet on a guy with 18 to 1 odds during the "Homerun Derby." We brought a portable battery operated radio to work and sat at our desks listening as he hit the ball out of the park. We won hundreds of dollars, I don't remember the exact amount, plus the satisfaction of taking a risk on an unlikely choice and beating the odds.
I wish there was one thing in my life that I could always be sure of...even if it was just that woman 's hair color.

Tori, Tori, Tori

My world has been so insular lately. I don't mind it, I'm not complaining. It's obviously my choice. I'm lucky enough to have some amazing people to rely on and who take the brunt of my craziness.
Still, today was a nice shake up. After some waffling about, I agreed to go with my friend JG to line up in front of Amoeba Records at 5:30 AM to wait in line until 10:30 AM so we could buy copies of the new Tori Amos comic book, "Comic Book Tattoo." I'm not really a comic book fan. I like movies based on them, but have never really seriously read them. But it was Tori, and if you were one of the first 200 people, you got a wristband that entitled you to come back and have something signed.
I love Tori Amos. My sister came back from college in 1994 with a CD of "Under the Pink." I copied it to tape, but never really gave it a serious listen. A few months later, I was taking a Humanities class and the teacher played the video of "Winter" to demonstrate editing techniques. I couldn't get the song out of my head. And from then on, I was hooked. I've seen her live time and time again, I've traveled to see her, bought everything I could get my hands on. I've had dreams about meeting her and crying.
Still, I wasn't that enthused to wait in line for hours... but I did it. Why not? I'm unemployed, direction-less, what's the harm?
I was pretty placid for most the time, that is, until it was time to come back and actually meet her. I will say that Amoeba was amazing. They brought us water and fans while we were waiting and answered all our questions and treated us extremely nice as they led us around.
Waiting in line, my heart started beating and my legs got week. we waited around for a while and when she finally came out, I was FREAKED. I was trying to keep calm, but it was hard. I recalled making fun of my nieces a week before as they went crazy at a Jonas Brothers concert in Milwaukee, but here I was, going crazy. JG went first and seemed in complete control of his faculties as he discussed his music with her. As I stood there, next in line, I felt like I was going to have a heart attack.
It was my turn.
"I have dreams I meet you and immediately start crying. So I'm trying to keep it together," I confessed. She smiled.
"What's your name?"
"Kristopher," I said and shook her hand, "My boyfriend and my sister both wanted me to say hi and that they love you."
"That's sweet," she replied. Tori looked like some kind of beautiful elf creature. Bright blue eyes, glowing skin, her long red wig flowing.
"So are you here alone?" she asked.
"I'm with JG."
"So, are you working on music too?"
"No, but I've taken photos for him."
"That's great," she said and smiled as she wrote "For Kristopher" on the "Don't Make Me Come to Vegas" LP I had brought for her to sign. She was shockingly genuine and sincere.
She looked down at her work.
"I forgot to sign it!" she realized. "Can you make sure when you go back that I signed his. If not, just send him right back."
"I will," I responded. I could feel my time ticking away and gathered up my courage. I had seen other people hugging her, and wanted so badly to do the same.
"Can I give you a hug?"
"Sure," she said without a beat and stood up.
"Thank you so much. You're music has meant the world to me for so long," I said quietly as we hugged.
She sat back down.
"Thank you so much," I added.
"Thank you," she said and gave me a look. At this point, I was probably worse than my 16, 14 and 12 year old nieces at the Jonas Brothers. I was a grown man on the verge of tears in front of a petite red-head musician.
"Thank you," I said again and she acknowledged me with a wordless hand gesture that meant the world.
I walked off. My throat felt like it was knotting up. I'm not sure what it was, but it felt that way for a while after. I had been touched by the goddess.
It's amazing meeting someone you've admired and loved for so long and finding them be better than you could ever imagine. I'm glad I left my bubble and took a chance. It was definitely an experience I'll never forget.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Confessions on Church Floor

It's always interesting when I go to church and see a line of old ladies waiting outside the confessional. What's more interesting is how long a lot of them take once they get inside. When I go to confession, it's a pretty quick affair, I plow through all my wrong doings and say my prayers as efficiently as possible. I wonder what these old ladies are doing that they're in there so long. Did they steal an apple at the grocery store? Did they say something mean to their poodle? Did they get a little too harsh in telling their husbands to hurry? Or is it something else? Are these old ladies doing unimaginable things? Are they hosting orgies, embezzling cash, murdering their loud neighbors? Today's sermon was all about not judging people. That's something I'm constantly trying to avoid. Still, I can imagine the possibilities without passing judgment.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Foot to the Face

I woke up today at 6:30 AM to paw (complete with protruded nail) to my face. It was so unsettling to be stirred from sleep in such a way. I immediately put my hand to my face and curled up, not knowing what hit me. There was blood and shock. It's a horrible feeling to be unsettled when sleeping. Once again, I'm reminded of the time that the FBI invaded my neighbor's house in my old apartment building. It was so loud and scary that I sat right up and had trouble sleeping for more than a month afterward.
When B's not around, my sleeping routine is so different, I find myself staying awake longer, sleeping longer. I think I'm less relaxed, and so it's not as easy to just fall asleep. It's strange realizing that someone can do that to you. Without even knowing it, the other person is embedded in your life. Of course, B was just talking about how comfortable the bed in his Canadian hotel is, so I doubt he feels the same. Of course, anything is more comfortable than a cat using one's face for a road.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Ketchup, Ketchup

Ketchup, ketchup
Is in the air.
Ketchup, ketchup
Is everywhere:
In the water
Red and clear.
Catch up, ketchup,
You're almost there.

Friday, July 11, 2008

The Crazy Dog Lady

Yesterday I became "the crazy dog lady." The lady I roll my eyes at and am frightened of.
It happened quickly, without a second to react or even to breathe. My lab was playing with a smaller pup, they were wrestling and gnawing on each other in the dirt filled dog park. A giant (I may be exaggerating, but I remember him as being "giant") pit bull decided to get in on the action and quickly became part of the pack. What at first was innocent puppy fun, soon became "attack of the giant pit bull." At the first sound of aggression, I ran to the middle of the action. I began grabbing for my dog while screaming, like a madwoman, "Goddammit! Get your fucking dog! That dog has started three fights today! Get him out of here!" The owner, who I had been pleasantly chatting with moments before, quickly swooped in, grabbed a hold of his dog by the tail, and escorted him out of the park.
After checking my pup for open wounds, and finding not even a scratch, I glanced around at the other owners, whispering quietly in their people packs. They glanced in my direction, secretly giving me the once over with their eyes, the same look I have given numerous times to the frantic, crazed woman or man who screams at another dog owner.
This crazy lady is nothing new. She has been unleashed before, usually in a fit of road rage, or while standing in a long line at the supermarket. She does things I do not recognize, she shouts things I would never whisper (at least when I am in my right mind..whatever that means).
Just a couple weeks ago, I was driving my car after a long day at work, and 1 1/2 hours of bumper to bumper traffic, when she emerged. Some woman in a Jetta, cut in front of me in the single lane of traffic the rest of us had been patiently waiting in for what seemed like days. She had nudged by hundreds of cars on the shoulder of the road, settling for a position right in front of me. That is when it happened. I thought, "I can play her game." I went up on the shoulder and charged in front of her, positioning my car horizontally across the single lane, so she (and the hundreds of cars behind her) could not move forward. "I'll show her," the crazy lady consuming my body cackled. I'll spare you the rest of the details, but let's just say, it was not one of my finer moments.
On TV a couple weeks ago, I saw a well respected doctor jump out of his car in a slow moving Costco gas line. He held a crow bar and his face was red as he approached the car that had cut in front of him. I wanted to judge him and say, "Oh my God, what a nut," or "That guy should lose his medical license," but instead, I just sat quietly and thought, "Tomorrow I should remove the crow bar from my trunk."

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

I Wish...

I wish I had a passion like surfing or Hip Hop dancing. I wish I rode waves and knew how to pop. I wish they would pull me in like a love affair and consume my every thought. I wish I said things like, "rad" and called my g-friend "shorty." I wish I wore wet suits and hoodies and a red bandanna hung from the front pocket of my True Religions.
I'm off for three weeks starting next Wednesday. Maybe I'll do some drop in Hip Hop classes at the Dance Garage and head to the OC for the early morning beginners surf camp.
Maybe I'll watch marathon episodes of Intervention and update my Facebook status for exercise.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

School

I had a dream last night that I was back in high school. I went through two days of classes like normal, but on the third day I forgot what my classes were and couldn't find my schedule. I'm reminded of other similar dreams I've had like this. I spent most the day wondering around, trying to figure out where I should go and looking for some way to figure it out. It was just this roundabout search that had me running into people who had little ideas but nothing that could help me out.