Whoever doesn't like Hansen or "mmmm-bop" can go straight to hell. Strait to f*cking hell. Express shuttle.

OK, so, a little bit of filipino tradition...your
cousin's children, according to Filipino tradition,
are called your nieces and nephews, and they call you
aunt or uncle, etc. Fine. OK. We use that in the US
too, that's why even only children can have a bunch of
nieces and nephews, and that's also why we have
billions of people we call aunt and uncle. BUT...if
your neices and nephews have children, what do those
kids call you? "Lolo" or "Lola" (grandpa or
grandma)!!! I DID NOT KNOW THIS!!! It took me
completely by surprise when two little 3-year-old kids
came up to me during the reunion, gave me "mano po",
and said (in perfect Visayan) "Merry Christmas Lolo
Ken!" Lolo Ken?!? WHATTHEWHOWHAHUH? I don't even
own a cane! For a second I almost shit myself
(literally, because I had bad food earlier, but that's
a different story), but then thought, "aww, why the
hell not. They're so cute." One of my FEW weaknesses
are little children who speak another language
fluently.

BEFORE I GO ON...I would like to thank the Honda
Motorcycle Company for creating the XLR 200, a badass
motocross-type bike, complete with pro-link suspension
system. Because of them, I may buy a motorcyle again,
despite my accident (just don't tell my parents).
Yes, my next bike will definitely be an XLR.

OK, what I've done so far: got a foot spa; attended
children's b-day party complete with the BEST FUCKING
PARTY CLOWN (serious, this guy KICKED ASS), where I
ate too much food; attended family reunion (80+ people
- although the first hour and a half was spent curled
up in a ball due to indigestion from the kid's b-day
party); lost my cel phone in a taxi; saw the inside of
a local police precinct, complete with jail
(remember...lots of cops in my family, like "Copland"
but without corruption, "goodfellas" without mob
connection); took a 45 minute boat ride to my late
grandparent's farm; hypnotized a chicken; drank from a
coconut; spent the nite in the town where my dad was
born; rode the HONDA XLR 200 up and down steep, rocky
hills, through mud, past rice fields, around water
buffalo dung, past pigs, goats and naked kids; saw a
monkey; climbed steep, rocky cliffs in FLIP-FLOPS
(took off flip-flops for return, feet still soft due
to foot spa, but now I need a manicure); visited an
ancient cave complete with underground pool and bat
(guide was a one armed man who lost it from dynamite
fishing); fired an M-16; had a picnic and took a
shower under a waterfall (really, a shower - used soap
and everything); saw a pig strapped to a motorcycle;
went to a really huge nightclub; ate durian.

FINAL NOTE: Mindanao is the hugest island in the
south. Most of the places outside of Davao (the
biggest city) are provices (provinces=rural=way the
fuck out there). Most people down here (unlike
manila) are really dark. A taxi driver thought I was
korean. A cashier thought I was Japanese. I'm
visiting my 96 year old grandmother tomorrow. She'll
probably turn to my mom and say "who's the chinese
guy?"

Which Edward Gorey Book Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Hellewwww...
It's been 36 hours since I arrived in the
Philippines,30 hours since I arrived in Davao (which
is in Mindanao). A quick rundown...

Things I have learned...
-My family is a Filipino version of both "Goodfellas"
and "Copland" mixed together...in a good way.

-All my relatives look like my brother...they are
stocky, dark and curly-haired. I look like no one.
This must be how Michael Jackson feels at a reunion.

-I have eschewed english, since A) my relatives tell
me that speaking entirely in english would make me
difficult to understand, and B) speaking only english
would make me a target for scammers, scumbags,
thieves, etc. Because of B, there has been a
directive to the family that everyone must speak
Visayan to me (to make me appear local). I'm not even
speaking english to my parents. I am only speaking
english to my Austrailian cousin, and even then only
in private (his accent is rubbing off on me...I now
refer to my mother as "me mum"). I have surprised
myself with the ease at which I am communicating with
everyone. I am speaking a combination of
Tagalog/Visayan/English (I call it Tagayanlish), which
has been understood quite well by everyone.

-Davao's population is said to be about 1 million, but
after driving through traffic and trying to walk
through a mall, it feels like 20 gajillion.

-Our family reunion spot is being kept a secret. Over
100 people are expected, and since many people in the
family are very influential people in this city, it is
being kept under wraps.

-Since I have been here, an article my dad wrote made
the front page of the local paper, I have swum on a
very nice, very clear beach, gotten drunk and sung
karaoke, witnessed a drunken fight in the middle of
the street, went to a strip-type club which, at one
point, had an act where a man in clown makeup and
rubber penis (calling Dr. Freud!! Hello?!) lip-synched
to a song while a transvestite danced in a g-string
(by the way, don't ever tell that to my parents).

I am loving Davao. THis place is wonderful.

Well, it's off to another country tomorrow (like it's a daily thing for me...it's not, belive me, I wish it was). I'll be spending x-mas and new years abroad. I'll be back on Jan. 2. Don't miss me too much. Email me and tell me how much you miss me!

got milk?
I love milk and milk products (particularly ice cream...mmmmmm, ice cream...), but, if you really think about it, drinking another animal's milk is kinda gross. Why and how did we choose cows and goats for milk? We have accepted them (for some reason) as a source of milk, fine. But that's as far as we should go.

ABANDON SHIP!!!
Afternoon Job is in a converted basement of an historic building in downtown Los Angeles (done extremely well, by the way. It looks like a loft, but it's...um...in the basement). Aaaaaanyhooooo, today was a particularly rainy day in good 'ol LaLaLand, and for some reason, the drain outside our door (which is below sidewalk level) did not drain properly. So, within a few minutes of walking into the office, our office manager warned us of leakage, which quickly turned into floodage. About three to four inches. Quickly we grabbed whatever soakables we could and blocked the doors, and got the shop vac out to suck out all the wett-age. We also had to borrow the shop vac from our upstairs neighbor (GALLONS, I SAY, GALLONS). Well, the flood is gone, and it smells a little musty, but it was quite a sight having all of us with our pants rolled up around our knees, barefoot, scooping water into the bathroom sinks. We have two large, curving staircases leading to an upstairs administration area, so the whole thing felt like the Titanic, but without tuxedoes.

I'm not a big christmas or new year celebrator by any means. But last night I got the coolest christmas present...a handheld sewing machine!!! Yeah, boyeeeee!!! Seriously, this is one cool machine (if it doesn't break by tomorrow). Dude, I'm gonna start hemming my pants tonight, for real! You see, for smaller guys like me, we can't get pants the right length, so we walk around dragging our cuffs around. I'm going to be one sew-happy mother f*cker!!!

Bed Style
My hair is pretty much like the way it was when I was in high school, maybe a bit shorter (except for that experimental long hair phase in college--ugh--thick, nice hair does not always transition well into thick, long hair). But by some wierd pillow miracle, I woke up this morning and it looked like the way I styled it when I was a junior in high school: parted on the right and spikey on the parted side. Kinda like a pseudo Thompson Twins/Flock of Seagulls/new wave look. Which would look cool for a party or something, but in any other situation (like going to Morning Job), would look like I just woke up.

I don't mind people quoting lines from movies. That's cool. What I do mind is people who quote either complete monologues or whole sections of dialogue from movies (the quote-er taking both roles). Look, if your quote is longer than 10 seconds, you are taking too long, and you are falling farther into the geek pit.

I just got your message baby
So sad to see you fade away
I'm like a boy among men
I'd like a permanent friend
I'd like to think that I was just myself again
Oh tell me why is it I'm digging your scene?
I know I'd die, baby.

-Blow Monkeys

It really pisses me off that I can't walk down the street in slow motion while Echo and the Bunnymen's "Killing Moon" plays in the background.

Just a random thought during the holiday travel season...
Just a tip...I know you can't talk about or even joke about bombs when you're in the airport. BUT, what if you have a lot of lip BALM? What then? You can't say "I've got some balms in my bag" now, can you? You'd be in trouble. So don't. Just call it ChapStick or Blistex or whatever. I've probably saved you from a full body cavity search (although some of you...forget it). You can thank me later. You love me, just admit it.

P.S.
Yes, I'm bored.
P.P.S.
Yes, I know I’m weird.

Forgot to mention...rented "Donnie Darko" a few nights ago. Wow. That's all I gotta say. Wow.

I think I got everyone at work sick. I've never done that before. It's cool, in a strange way.

*sigh* I miss the Chupacabra.

Oh, God, I hope I'm not getting sick. Oh, God, I hope I'm not getting sick. Everyone's been getting sick around me and I've been OK for the longest time. But two nights ago, I got this wierd sore throat, and it got worse yesterday. So I hope it's not going to get any worse. I've been downing emergen-C (that shit ROCKS). Last night, after I got home from work, I STAYED IN BED. I hope that panicking about a possible illness does not make it worse. I hope it's nothing.

It's like what happened a few weeks ago. I looked in the mirror and I thought I was getting a GUT. A little pooch belly gut. I looked in the mirror and said "oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit." I was REALLY disturbed. No! Has it finally happened? After years of boasting how I can eat anything? No! It couldn't be! But it turned out that I was just bloated with gas.

Boy, was I happy to be bloated with gas.

This never happened...
...but it's sure plausible.

A SHORT SCENE by me.
Lights up. KENNEDY at a party. BEAUTIFUL WOMAN
stands next to him.

BW (smiling): Excuse me?
K (smiling): Yes?
BW: Could you watch my purse while I go to the
bathroom?
K: Sure.
BW: Oh, wait, never mind. I'll bring it with me.

BW exits.

K: No, I don't mind watching...oh, okay then...I'll
just, um...yeah.

BLACKOUT

Just showing of my ecclectic tastes
Two of my favorite movies--
1) "Mullholland Drive" by David Lynch
2) "City Lights" by Charles Chaplin
I think the final 40 minutes of "Mullholland Drive" and the last 2 minutes of "City Lights" are brilliant. Just brilliant. No, I'm not saying that you shouldn't see the whole movie. You should, because it's all wonderful. I'm just saying that the endings just give the movies that extra zing, you know?

First Winona, then J. Lo and Affleck's engagement, and now Mr. Rooney. ENOUGH WITH THE CELEBRITY CRIMES!

A question to myself
Am I a big dork or what?

I think it's a bad sign when the most exciting thing about the Morning Job today is that I can't find the 3-hole punch.

I like it when animals sniff the camera lens, so their noses look really big, while the rest of their face and body looks small. I think that's cute. Not so cute with people, though.

OK, I find dimples attractive on a woman. Why? I don't know. I mean, I have dimples, and I don't think about them at all until someone brings it up. But I think women with dimples have that extra I-don't-know-what. Maybe I'm projecting. Maybe it's the one common thing I feel comfortable talking about with a stranger. I mean, when I rode a motorcycle, I sort of felt comfortable talking to strangers about their motorcycles. But I only know about my own motorcycle - I'm no motorcycle officianado, so I felt kind of limited about talking about it.

But dimples, I feel, are a way for me to talk to attractive women. I'm not as intimidated because I've got them too, I've had them all my life, and I feel like an expert on them. Wait...Huh? what the hell am I talking about?

I don't know. I'm just babbling because I met a cute woman last night who had one dimple on her left cheek. I thought she was just really cute and I can't stop thinking about it and I'd better stop because. Just because.

I love to wave at dogs when I see them in cars or just sitting there. I don't know why. I highly doubt they will wave back. But I do it anyway, almost on instinct. It makes me happy.

I'm starting to mumble to myself. I would think that's bad, but at least I'm catching myself when I do it.

I'm the type of guy who people ignore when a beautiful person (man or woman) enters the room. I'm also the "can you watch my purse" guy.

Poor Wynona. Poor, stupid Wynona.

For some reason, I get all giddy when I get the "web page not found" screen.

New Personal Best
This morning I woke up at 10:10am yelling "shit! shit!" (that's not unusual). Got to work by 10:33am. HOW THE HELL DID I DO THAT?

Women wearing fur chaps and a bikini. A man grabbed my ass. B made me wear a bra when we got home. Other than that, it was a boring weekend.

There's no cool way to get out of a waterbed.

I think that THIS is my favorite game in the world right now.

I don't think people really appreciate the entertainment value of a Linda Blair Exorcist head. I truly don't.

P.S.
Things that are always funny: nuns, monks and hare krishnas. Also, even though I prefer highbrow, intellectual humor, I can also appreciate a well placed fart noise.

I can't afford to get a newer cell phone, so I just ordered some colored faceplates to make me feel like I have a new phone. It'll look new, at least.

Hey, I just played a little bit of GTA: Vice City at my cousin's place. It looks SOOOOOOO cool. I love it.

They're all sick
I'm at Morning Job™, all alone. All by my lonesome. Apparently everyone is out sick, but I come in anyway. Maybe there's some virus floating around the office. If so, why was I not told "Hey, stay home! Everyone's sick!" Maybe they WANT me to get sick, like everyone else. Maybe they're testing my immunity levels. Well, I guess SOMEONE has to answer the phone and say "No one's here, they're all sick."

I have a small brain. I must. I found a tiny Rubik's cube at Burning Man, and I brought it home with me. The other night I picked it up. After I started fiddling around and matching the colors, I neglected reading, news, the phone, eating, even VIDEO GAMES. What's that about?

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, Here I come!
Okay, so I signed up for the National Novel Writing Month. The idea is to write a 50,000 word novel in a month. They don't expect you to write the Great American Novel. They just expect to write 50,000 words. They know that most of it will be crap and make no sense. Some of the guidelines - you must start Nov. 1, and end Nov. 30. You can't write a novel in progress - you must start on Nov. 1 with a clean slate.

This will be interesting.

Sometimes I wish I were gay because, right now, I can't decorate my apartment worth shit.

Happy national day of protesting police brutality! I'm at Afternoon Job right now, which is right next to Parker Center and Los Angeles City Hall. The streets around here are lined with police in riot gear and on horseback. I guess just in case things get out of hand, the police will be ready with their night sticks and rubber bullets to beat the crap out of lawbreakers.

On a completely different note, I hate seeing pretty women walking by while I'm in my car. They break my heart because I keep thinking "Hey, where you going? Why is she walking away?" And I cry. I cry one big tear.

I love weekends. I love loosley planned weekends because I can sleep in until the afternoon. I especially love weekends where I get to see a stage show where a pretty woman takes off her shirt and exposes her nicely shaped boobs.

P.S.
I especially love weekends where I get to hear Ratt's "Round and Round," and the person in the passenger seat knows the song too.

I love donuts.

They Look Like Neon Witches' Hats

Is it orange cone day here in Los Angeles? Is that what it is? Here's how my morning drive went...

I had to go to an audition this morning. On my way to the freeway, the three-lane street that led to the freeway entrance was reduced to one lane because of "tree maintenance" crews, who were trimming trees on the island and had lots of equipment, so two lanes were blocked with orange cones. At this point, I'm getting nervous cuz I don't want to be late.

On the freeway, the traffic was slow on my side because people were rubbernecking an accident that happened in the opposite direction. That slowed me down some more, but when I saw my exit, I thought "Great, smooth sailing from here on." But, alas, on the exit ramp, one of the three exit lanes was blocked with orange cones because they were repairing a traffic signal. Slowed me down again.

So now I'm on Melrose Avenue, and I think "Great, Melrose will be smooth sailing from here on." But no. First, there was a large FedEx Ground truck RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME, driving slow because it was large. So I decided to pull into the right lane to get around it (what was it doing in the left lane anyway?). But suddenly, I had to pull back behind the large truck because, right in front of Paramount Studios, they were digging up the street for some reason, blocking it off with MORE ORANGE CONES.

So I get to the audition pretty much about two or three minutes late. The audition was quick, and I decide to take a different route to get back, because of all the cones. Things were running smoothly, until, about four blocks from the freeway entrance, a truck blocked the CENTER lane with it's orange cones. Hmm. Orange cone day. It's only 1pm, and I have a little more driving to do. I wonder what I'll see.

With that explosion in Bali, I'm wondering just how safe the Philippines will be when I go there for Christmas. It kinda makes me edgy, since we will be in Mindanao, a haven for insurgents. I don't want to think about that.

Things I'm finding out: Asking women out for a date - not as difficult as it seems. Trying to convince myself that I'm not an uninteresting skinny geek dork - VERY DIFFICULT.

On a completely unrelated note - Saw my friend sing at a CD release party this weekend. It was at this beautiful, very unique house built by F.L. Wright's son, in the Hollywood Hills. Very Aztec-ish. OK, so the guy who made the CD was there. A very well travelled, socially aware composer. But, as a public speaker, his speeches were a little to new-age-y for me. So was the music. But the house was great. Then I thought, if I had a huge, beautiful house, all the furnishings would probably come from Target or Ikea.

So I just saw "In The Mood For Love", a movie directed by Wong Kar-Wai (same guy who did "Chung King Express"). Wow! What a beautifully shot film! And the story's all sad and romantic and shit. It takes place in Hong Kong, 1962. Please let me blab right now...MAGGIE CHEUNG MAGGIE CHEUNG MAGGIE CHEUNG MAGGIE CHEUNG MAGGIE CHEUNG. She's HOT. She and Tony Leung are wearing these TOO COOL clothes from the era. She's wearing these nice coctail-type dresses, he's wearing these shark-skin suits with cool ties. Makes me wanna get me a sharkskin suit. The colors in the movie are reminiscent of old James Bond movies, or pictures from Life magazine. MAGGIE CHEUNG!

I accidentaly found something that I think is interesting (and will probably make me a geek). Today, at Morning Job™, I was asked to deliver stuff around town. So I got to go out and drive in my car, which is a welcome diversion. It's always nice to be out and about. Aaaaaaaaaanyhoo, there's this shopping center on the corner of Vermont and Santa Monica Blvd. There's a Rite Aid and I think a Staples there. But in the middle of the parking area, there's this island that has all these street lamps lined up. All different kinds. I'd say there are about ten or twelve of them, all lined up by height. Some were pretty short, and some were very high. And they all were differrent. Some looked like they were from the 1920's or something, and some looked very modern. It was a display of all the different types of streetlamps in use in the Los Angeles area. Each one had a small plaque with it's model and the area of Los Angeles where it can be found. I think the reason why it was displayed in this particular shopping area is because the city has a streetlight repair place a few blocks away. Okay, so I'm a big geek, but I found this really, REALLY neat, and if you think it's geeky, well nuts to you, I'll pummel the shit out of you out back in the parking lot.

I'm not good at giving directions. I'm the kind of guy who drives until I recognize the exit sign on the freeway ("yes, it's this one"). I'm also not good at street names. I just know that you turn left when you see that bunch of houses, or when the street starts looking a certain way. Or a couple of blocks after that gas station.

Nobody cares about your pathetic little problems, you insignificant worm! (a.k.a. Things I hate, pt. 1)

The fact that my rent check is probably going to bounce...again. Going to Morning Job™, especially in the morning. People who don't read directions. Slick, snaky producers/personal managers. People who continue to irritate me even after I've told them that they're irritating me. Televised police car chases. Dating shows on TV. Hives. Flying bugs. Viruses (computer and human). Status symbols and their seekers. Clothing with the designer's name prominently displayed (I'm talking big name and trendy designers). Name droppers. People who don't use their signals to change lanes. Rabid animals. Animals that want to eat me. Most FM radio stations. To be continued...

Again, I wake up pretty late, and rush to Morning Job™. I wonder why they haven't fired me yet. I like to believe that I'm such a wonderful personality that they have to have me around. But in reality, I think it's because they can't hire anyone to do my job for such little pay.

Wow. So I fired my manager. Wow. That's kinda exciting. It's kinda scary, too. It's like, someone pushed you out into the cold and said "Okay, asshole, now survive." And I say "All right, I'll show you, dick!" But I did it to myself. I fired HIM. Kinda scary.

Saw "Amelie" again last night. What a fun film. I realized I have two tragic flaws when it comes to relationships. The first one is A. The second one is B. And in combination, A and B make it hard to find a relationship.

Okay, I realize that some people are looking up my blog because I mentioned a certain female news anchor. But I only mentioned her once. Okay, that's allright. At least someone's viewing my blog.

On a completely different note, I need a haircut and I get EXTREMELY self-conscious around women I'm interested in. There, I said it. Yes, I am not that cool around women I'm interested in. Great. Okay, now it's out there. I'm not always the cool, easy-going, fun-loving, quick-witted, unflappable person at all times of the day. Yes, I have a weakness (okay, many weaknesses, including ice cream, and people who cry, but I'm not letting you in on all of them). Okay. So now, I just gotta work on that one.

And on one more completely different note...why doesn't Los Angeles have a comprehensive neighborhood recycling program? That is SO LAME!!! I HATE THROWING AWAY GOOD RECYCLEABLE STUFF!!!!!!

Maybe I need a new alarm clock? Maybe I'm so used to the sound of that electronic beep that I don't feel the urge to wake up? I out-sleep the snooze! I don't get it. Maybe there's something wrong with me? Is there some weird "sleeping in" disease? Not that there's anything wrong with sleeping in, mind you. If I could, I'd sleep in until the afternoon. It's just that it's been so consistent. Maybe I've got some kind of infection or something. Hmm. Wow. Thank god I'm not a hypochondriac.

Whoo. I am so scatterbrained today. I slept really late because of a video game (an OLD game, at that...I'm so stupid). I've been hitting the snooze on my alarms all week. Today, the only reason why I got out of bed was because they were testing the fire alarm in the building. And I've been really stupid at work. Mostly zoning out in front of the computer, surfing the web. Whatta dork. It could be that I have an audition tomorrow that I'm totally not prepared for, and two auditions next week. Whatever. I'll deal with it.

I'm at my Morning Job™. I honestly don't know why they haven't fired me. I come to work every day waiting for the other shoe to drop. Really, I'm not that important, and I'm not particularly exceptional in my work. I'm know there are tons of people who could do my job much better than I have. Yet I show up, and they pay me. Are we both getting suckered?

I was interviewed by CNN yesterday for a profile on Margaret Cho. Cool, huh? I wonder what they'll use. The interview was only about 40 minutes long. It was in this hip-retro hotel suite. I asked for some water, and the sound guy went to the fridge and gave me a bottle. It was from England. Like it matters? It tasted very watery, the way I expected water to taste. Should it taste any different because of the label? But I guess a fancy glass bottle from England makes the hotel more cool. Really, as long as it tastes like water and doesn't poison me, I could give a shit where it came from. IT'S JUST WATER. WATER IS EVERYWHERE. IT'S IN PLANTS, LAKES, CLOUDS AND RAIN. WHY SHOULD IT COST MORE THAN BEER?

I hope I had enough usable sound bites. I've learned how to create usable soundbites for TV interviews. It's a cool skill to learn.

Okay, so I'm writing a play. I've been taking this playwrighting class. This is the third week. I didn't think I'd have an idea for a play so soon, but I've got one. I've been writing like a motherfucker. I was chugging along, when all of a sudden, I reach page 23, and I don't know what happens next. Wow. That's kinda exciting. I'm stuck on page 23 and nothing's coming out. That's neat. It's like I'm in suspense, but for myself. If that makes any sense.

I don't recall my alarm going off this morning. Yet I woke up semi-early. I think (sadly) that my body is now trained to wake up early. Sad, really, because I LOVE sleeping in.

Anyway, I estimated that I got about 7 hours of sleep, yet I got to Morning Job™ an hour late, and I'm still sleepy. I think it's psycho-somatic. I think knowing I have to be here makes my body want to shut down.

What just happened? Just now I helped a woman move into her apartment in my building. Turns out, she's a Harley mechanic and a photographer. And she owns a motorcycle. And she's easy on the eyes. Wow. Um, yeah. Wow.

So I emailed her a recipie. A recipie she likes. I used to have this big-ass crush on her, and tried to ask her out, but she was having family problems. So I backed off. That was months ago, so things have calmed down and now I just have a teeny, tiny crush on her. So I sent her a recipie.

Okay. I've said this before. It's just me, I think. Maybe not. But I measure my self worth by the number of personal emails I get in a day (not group emails), and the number of phone calls I get. Lately, it's been reaaaaaaaaaaly slow. Okay, it's a problem. I just feel better when I get personal emails or phone calls. Emails I think are better, because someone actually takes time and thinks out stuff to write to you. At least I do. I know I shouldn't rely on those things to make me feel good. I don't know why I do. Oh, yeah, I do know...it's because I'm a freak.

THINGS I LOVE part 2 (see 7/19/2002 for part one)

Aimee Mann, Neil Finn and Crowded House, "Chung King Express", anything Michael Moore says or does, Joe Boxer, boxer briefs, jeans, vintage shirts, Thai food, Dr. Martin's Boots, Nutella, Bad Batz-Maru, late-night informercials, Bill Hicks, bread, Razor scooters, chicks with flame throwers, women who can throw a punch, fingernails scratching the inside of my arms, snow, real vanilla, my bed, PDA's (the handheld computers), PDA (public displays of affection), Macs, Big Macs, tiramisu from Steps of Rome in San Francisco, walking aimlessly in Copenhagen, swimming in Singapore during a rainstorm, fresh laundry, pit bulls, Indian Reservations, long stretches of highway

to be continued...

Slept realy well again last night. I guess my galavanting is catching up with me. Woo-hoo.

Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm supposed to do something tonight, and I just can't remember? I hate that. Don't you? I'll probably remember what it was on Friday.

On a completely different note, downtown L.A. is like any other big city downtown. Oftentimes you will walk down the street thinking "What is that smell? Oh, it's HIM."

IMJUSTAGUY BONUS ROUND: 200 points to anyone who can tell me where "Excuse me miss, do you like pineapple?" comes from.

Slept really well last night. REALLY well. But it only came because of a long weekend. A long WORK weekend. I was an MC for the Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture (FPAC - see http://www.filamarts.org) for both days. It was a lot of fun. As always, I run into people in the community that I haven't seen in a while. That's always a treat. But it's also a lot of work. I mean, I'm just an MC on the main stage, and it's not a lot compared to what all the other coordinators, curators, and volunteers go through. But it pooped me out. I can only imagine what everyone else feels.

Once again I prove to the world and my Morning Job™ that It's hard as hell for me to get up before 10am. Although my alarm is set for 8:45am, I keep hitting the snooze for about an hour before it gives out. And I STILL sleep past it. I end up waking up at 10:15am (I'm supposed to be at work between 10 and 10:30).

The weather here is weird. It's been kind of muggy, almost east coast-ish. It keeps threatening to rain, although it really hasn't, at least not downtown. I think this is what is called "earthquake weather." We'll see.

I wake up this morning, kinda slowly, and as I'm opening my eyes, my first thoughts are "wow, what a huge tent. Who's tent is this?" Then I slowly realize I'm in a bed, and there's no way I could have brought my bed out camping, and I realize that daylight is coming in through windows, not tent flaps, and I finally realize that I'm in my apartment, and not a huge, kick-ass mansion of a tent. In other words, Burning Man has not left me completely. Not yet.

And for those who are wondering, no I did not consume mass quantities of drugs at the festival (the heaviest drug I took was a large tequilla shot). No, I did not get laid on an hourly basis (although there was a great risk of running over people having sex in the desert in the middle of the night if your bike didn't have a light. Wouldn't that just suck? Getting run over by a bike while having sex?).

I'm already formulating ideas for a play for my playwriting class. It has to do with being reclusive, and levitation. I think it can work.

I'm still sore and tired from my vacation. But it's a good kind of tired and sore. I better get into shape, though, cuz tonight I'm going to the first day of my playwrighting class. That should be exciting.

Most of the Morning Job™ people are away for the next week, so it's just me and one other guy. It's really mellow. Even at the Afternoon Job™ it's very, very mellow. I hope it stays this way for a while.

I will be attending FPAC this year (http://www.filamarts.org). Didn't get to go last year (was in Europe), but I've gone practically every year for the last 5 or 6 years. It's fun, and a great way to connect with the community.

Don't know if I mentioned this , but I'm going to the Philippines this year for Christmas and New Years. That should be a blast.

For those who are curious about the drug-addled, nudity and sex-filled, good art/bad art pseudo-pagan ritual I attended last week, read this: http://sfgate.com/columnists/morford/

Like I said, it was a positive experience, and although I miss it already, I'm wondering if I should go again next year, or if it was one of those things that you do once in your life.

My first day home from Burning Man. Boy, was that an experience or what? The first day, Monday, I was introduced to my first Burning Man friends, Adam and Stacy, who are the most beautiful married couple in the world. IN THE WORLD. By Wednesday, the whole camp had arrived. The camp was called "The I'm OK, You're OK Corral." It should have been called "The camp full of hot women," because that was all it was. The camp was fun, we drove the BAR CAR around every night, and everyone in the camp was friendly as fuck.

Aaaaany-hoooo, I'm back, and I will be beating dust out of every piece of clothing from now until forever.

To long trips/vacations always cause stress? I was worried this week because I was doing a lot of last minute shopping for my trip to Burning Man, and realized that I was spending a lot of money, and I STILL wasn't sure if I had everything I needed. I'm usually Mr. Prepared when it comes to a lot of things (if not materially, then at least mentally). But this trip is pretty much on my own, and I just don't know what to expect.

Went to the Blogger meetup tonight. That was pretty cool! Everyone who showed up was pretty cool, smart, and, on top of that, pretty good looking. We had great conversation. Can't wait to do it again next month. Highlight of the evening...when B scared away the drunk Swiss dude (who was harrassing her) by brandishing a pool cue. Way to go, B!

I just realized I have no food in the fridge.

So zero 3 just came back from a weekend in SF. The shows were pretty good. Not great, not the best, but still pretty good. In other words, we didn't suck. It was part of a performance arts series thingy. We closed both shows. It was in the lovely Yerba Buena Center Forum, which is a cool, all purpose performance space. I always feel pretty secure when I'm with those two in any performance situation. It's kinda like walking around with a three person army...or something like that. San Francisco is so cool and fun. Too bad the cost of living there is too damn high.

I'm meeting an ex-ex girlfriend this week. She's moving to Chicago with her boyfriend, and she had some pictures and stuff that belongs to me. What is it with ex's and Chicago? I don't get it.

I leave for Burning Man this Sunday. Yay! Hooray for meee! I'm all a-tingle. My first one. I don't know what to expect. I'm guessing that a) I'll have a load of fun and it will be indescribably great, or b) I'll get annoyed by being around dust covered hippies and ravers.

Morning Job™ is interesting. For example, today, they left for a meeting without telling me anything about where they were going or when they were coming back. They just kind of picked up and left. Okay. Well, that's fine, I guess. As long as they think it's okay.

On a completely different, unrelated-in-any-way note...I think women look hot when they wear men's boxers. On the other hand, I think men look freakishly disgusting wearing women's panties.

No wonder people think I'm strange pt. 3
You know that song from "The Sound of Music," the "Do-Re-Mi" song? I think the note "la" gets screwed royally in that song. All the other notes have something clever said about them, like "do, a deer" and "Re, a drop of golden sun." Clever, right? But what does "la" get? "La, a note to follow so". That's so damned unoriginal and quite unfair, considering all the special treatment all the other notes get. Unfair, I cry. So "la" is only special because it follows "so"? That's fucked up.

Poor la. It probably feels insecure, marginalized, unloved and ignored. It'll probablly fall into the wrong crowd, or adopt unhealthy behavior. Well, I tell you what...fuck Julie Andrews, and fuck the Van Trapp family!! Those fuckers.

You go, La! You kick those other notes ASSES!!! All those other notes SUCK!!!! Fight the good fight, La! I got your back!

I want to write of snickers cakes and orchestras and brown eyes. I want to write about climbing rocks and running naked. I want to write about swimming with dolphins and floating in the middle of the ocean.

I want to, but I am stuck at work entering names into a database, and my left butt-cheek is getting numb from sitting on my wallet.

Such is life.

Sometimes the key to being sexy is one accessory. For some, it may be a necklace. Others, and earring. Still, for others, it may be the right hat.

I hope, like many do, that things will suddenly turn around for me, like in the next second.

Nope, guess not.

But for some reason, I have been hopeful and optimistic that something good is around the corner. My fear is that it won't come in time, and by the time it comes, I will have fallen into great despair, and I won't be in the right mind to enjoy it. Timing is everything. I guess, in a hippie/zen kind of way, you should be enjoying every minute. Okay, then. Here I go.

Wow. Exciting.

Okay, my days alone at Morning Job™ are over for now. It was fun while it lasted. I'm still amazed that I'm not fired.

I bought a small pirate flag, and I turned it into my car flag. That's cool, driving around with a pirate flag. I guess I gotta wear an eyepatch now and drink rum and wear knickers. And I gotta board other people's cars and steal their booty. Damn, now I've got to assemble a crew. And find a parrot.

That should be easy, because there are small flocks of wild parrots in Los Angeles. The story is that some parrots get away from their owners (you know, Beverly Hills and their fancy outdoor bird sanctuaries), and now they fly free around L.A.

Being alone at Morning Job™ is pretty cool, but pretty scary sometimes. I'm COMPLETELY alone. It's kind of nervewracking when you're at work by yourself, and you hear a noise, and you don't know what it is. I guess it's different at home, because you can always hide under the sheets. But I have phones to answer and faxes to send.

I'm so glad they have cable TV.

So, I'm alone at Morning Job™ for the rest of the week. Hooray for me! "Bubble Boy" is on HBO, so I'm tempted...

Okay, I was an hour late to Morning Job™. I think I subconsciously want to get fired. But it makes work more exciting when the threat of being fired is hanging over your head.

I'm a pretty open-minded guy. I think that everyone, regardless of how they look, is a beautiful person.

I just think that some people shouldn't go shirtless.

I swear to God, I think I'm going to get fired from Morning Job™. I keep screwing up simple stuff. Important, simple stuff. Oh, hell. I'm gonna get fired, I just know it.

Oh, the pain...
I just found out that "ABC World News Now" anchorwoman Liz Cho is married. The world is unfair and I want to kill myself.

When the DSL lines are slow, I'd like to think that the connection is "sleepy," and the only way to remedy it is to slap the shit out of my computer, then throw a glass of water at the screen.

Then I get fired.

So I burned a "get in the mood" CD. I'm not currently seeing anyone, but I just burned it. I call it wishful thinking. A friend of mine said that I should think of it as getting ready, preparing myself for the inevitability of dating someone.

In that case, I'd better clean out my car.

So I hang out at this brewery, and every few months they show art from different artists. This month there's this person who's obviously influenced by cartoons/comics, because the paintings have this comic book-ish feel to it. Any-hoo, there's this painting of a girl's face framed in red, and I thought, "Yeah, I'd buy that." So I asked the manager for a price list. Most of the paintings ran from $200-$300. That particular painting of the girl I wanted? NOT AVAILABLE. STORY OF MY LIFE. THAT PAINTING'S PROBABLY MARRIED.

Wow. Last night (with the help of a female friend), I approached a woman at a bar. Wow. No sparks though, nothing exciting. We talked. Nothing special happened. Maybe next time I shouldn't stammer or say "oh gee" too much.

Okay, sometimes I'm a fucking dumbass. No, I'm not going to explain myself. I just want to let the world know that sometimes I am. I mean, we all feel like dumbasses at one time or another, right? Okay, then. Today, I feel like one. So there.

No wonder why people think I'm weird (part 3)
Don't you hate it when, you know? And then you realize a bunch of shit? And then you think "Damn."

Yeah, you know what I mean.

Any excuse to get out of the office is a good one. One of my favorites is "I have to go outside and find my dignity."

THINGS I LOVE
(in no particular order, is still an incomplete list, and will probably be added to in the future)
Sleep, women, chocolate, ice cream, sex, sex involving chocolate ice cream, sleeping after great sex that involves chocolate ice cream, work boots, watches (although I never wear them), video games, animals, warm nights, motorcycles, rain, meteor showers, long showers, back rubs, Cocteau's "Beauty and the Beast," "Run, Lola, Run," "Bladerunner," "East of Eden," "Mulholland Drive," "Deuce Bigolow, Male Gigolo," hot dogs, big beds, lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling, Hagedorn's "Dogeaters," Alibata/Baybayin, the color blue, winter, deserts, travel, soup, grilled cheese sandwiches, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

to be continued...

So I went to the Arclight Cinema (or Cinerama Dome) to watch "Minority Report" (okay movie...not great, but good). I went to the concession stand to get a hot dog. They didn't have hot dogs at the counter. They had some kind of "gourmet sausage"-type thing. I had a choice they had 3 kinds, I think. I chose the chicken/pesto (or something like that) sausage. I also had a choice of "topping," either honey mustard or barbecue something or other. Wow.

"What ever happened to hot dogs?" I asked the guy.

"We're trying to expand our selection" he said.

They still sold candy and pop corn and cokes (at prices that make you feel like you're in Tokyo), but I guess hot dogs are not the thing any more. Can't they just have regular crappy unhealthy hot dogs for everyday shmoes like me?

I'm Losing It
I'm losing my mind. I'd rather be asleep right now. Maybe I have a sleepy disease. Would that necessarily be a bad thing? I mean, who the hell doesn't like sleep? I love sleep! Sleep fuckin' ROCKS!! Sleep KICKS ASS!! Maybe that'll be my new t-shirt...it'll say "Sleep fuckin' KICKS ALL ASS, motherfuckers! And if you don't like sleep, then you're fuckin STUPID!" Or something like that. Maybe you'd need a bigger t-shirt.

Oh, and I have a zit right above my upper lip. Weird. I hardly get zits, and I don't think I've gotten one right there before. Hmm.

P.S.
Sleep kicks ass.

The really cool news...Yesterday I didn't have to go to Morning Job, so I slept in...for 9 hours!!!

The sad news...9 hours wasn't enough.

Die dulci fruere, everyone.

So, what have YOU been up to this summer?
Oh, you know, the usual:
- Working
- Auditioning
- Flirting with women who I later find out are married.
You know, same 'ol, same 'ol.

Life is fleeting, ethereal, mercurial. Time slips through our fingers. Time flies so quickly. Enjoy what you have, for you never know when it will be gone.

Shit, I'd better get some ice cream.

Went to the Standard Downtown last night. Hmmm. The first time I ever stood in line to get into a bar. Kinda hollywood-ish. but inside, well, actually, on the roof, it was pretty damn cool. And the people were an interesting mix. there were some (but not many) hollywood types. The rest were just young hip people hanging out. That would be okay, I guess, except that a 7-up cost $7. I guess if I ever decide to go back there, I will bring a flask and fill it with my own damn drink.

HOT DAMN, I LOVE WOMEN!!!! God bless hot weather...

NO WONDER WHY PEOPLE THINK I'M WEIRD pt.2

I think "The Development of Modern Cheese" would be a great title for a book.

NO WONDER WHY PEOPLE THINK I'M WEIRD
I was really sleepy tonight and was watching PBS. I was half asleep. There was a Nova special on shark attacks. Then there was a reality-tv type thing about the Children's Memorial Hospital in Chicago. In my sleepy-zoned state, I thought, now THAT would be a great network show..."SHARK HOSPITAL." It would be a hospital in some big city, like Chicago, but for sharks. There would be drama in there all the time. Maybe an injured human would rush into the ER with a gunshot wound or something, and the doctor would say, "Sorry, sir, we can't help you. You're not a shark."

Oh, yes, I'm a genius. I'm ready for my Emmy.

It's been really, really hot these last two days. One thing I hate in this world (other than racism...and rasins in my salad...or is it racism in my salad?...I keep forgetting) is getting into a HOT CAR that's been sitting in the sun forever. Unfortunately, I do not have a carport/garage for my car, so sometimes it sits out in the sun, and getting into the car is like getting into HELL ITSELF.

I hate trying to drive with a hot steering wheel, so I got one of those neoprene steering wheel cover things that make it so much more bearable when grabbing the wheel. And since I have no garage, I fear that all that sun and heat will really fuck up the interior and dry and crack it before its time. And the paint will fade, I just know it. I'm not really that car-vain, but it's my only transportation and I wanna make sure it lasts like...oh, FOREVER. I'm one of those people who like to get the most use out of their stuff. I have shirts that are real old, but they're still pretty decent looking, so I keep wearing them. Yeah, the cuffs get kinda worn out, but other than that, its age is hardly noticeable.

On a completely different note...I knew my natural sleep pattern would catch up to me, and today it did. I out-slept my snooze. My alarm was not enough to get me up this morning. I woke up 45 minutes late for work. I called in, and T said "it's really dead over here anyway, so you don't have to come in." YEE-HA!!! So not only was I well rested, I had a free morning! I cleaned up, did laundry, went to my agent's office, and got some car stuff. Hooray for me! You see, sleeping in DOES WONDERS FOR YOUR DAY!!!!

So, at the party Saturday night, I got drunk. I should not drink. Alcohol makes me naked (not that I got naked that night...sigh). Oh, I don't have anything against nudity, not at all. I love nudity, but some people aren't very good at it.

Helleeewwww. I'm not catholic anymore, but here's what I wanna do...I'm gonna make little hard candy crosses and sell them in packs and call them "Jesus Saviors"...like Life Savers, but they save your soul!

I think I got cock-blocked the other night a party. I say "I think" because after I backed off, I thought, maybe the guy was just her friend? And then it was time to go home. Is it possible to cock-block yourself? On accident?

I finally got a yo-yo. I had to buy it online because no one sells yo-yos any more. Does that make me a freak? That I actually spent time LOOKING for a YO-YO? But now I have one and I am as giddy as a schoolgirl. Yo-yos are fun. I guess it would be like dribbling a ball over and over again. I forgot how easy it is to bonk yourself in the head with a yo-yo. Man, that smarts.

The Forth of July was fun, I guess. I sang happy birthday to the USA, but I was not about to spank it 226 times.

Okay, again, I am a Simple Guy™, and here are a few simple things I want this week...
1) A toy store that sells yo-yos (you'd think Toy's R Us, right? FAO Schwarz, right? WRONG!!).
2) Immunity to flea bites
3) Death to corporate greed
4) The luxury to sleep in every day for the rest of my life.

So I helped my cousin move in to his new place in the Valley. I'm excited that he'll be close by. He's married and has a son. I'm trying to remind myself that the fact that he's younger than me and is married and has a son and a very successful career doesn't make me a loser. Okay, I'm not. Even though it may look it. But I don't know what that does make me.

Yo-yo's are the sort of toy one could play with all night. I proved that last night.

Awesome weekend. Saw Jon Brion at largo Friday night. His special guests? Wendy (guitarist from Prince's Revolution), Fiona Apple, and a great guitarist (forgot his name) and keyboardist. Yeah, really awesome show. Also went to the Hollywood Bowl for the first time ever. It was this big Hawaiian music concert. I'm not big into Hawaiian music, but it was still fun.

I've also discovered that I'm not a bad flirt.

When I go out on a date (god knows when that will happen), I must ask the following questions...
1) You know I'm not gay, right?
2) Are you married/dating/seeing anyone right now?
3) Do you find me sexually threataning?
4) Why not?
5) How about now (growl, slurp, growl)?
6) Are you now or have you ever been a man?
7) Can you please remove your salad fork from my eye?

This is a fun site. You can create and send a flash animation movie to your friends.

On another note...I'm supposed to be at the Morning Job™ at 10am, but I usually get in at 10:30 because I have a bitch of a time getting up. Anyways, my Morning Job™ boss calls me at 9am to remind me to bring something. I'm one of those people who answer the phone very energetic and peppy, no matter what time. So the phone call woke me up, but I answered as if I'd been up for an hour or so. I hang up, and go back to sleep for another 40 minutes (it makes a difference, it really does).

So here I am, at the Morning Job™. I did one job related thing. Now I'm surfing the web again. I think I'm going to submit a slogan to a t-shirt company.

I'm a pretty simple guy. I don't ask for much. In order, these are the only things I ask for in the universe:

1) The ability to sleep 8 hours or at least until 10am every day.
2) Ice cream on demand
3) The ability to eat while I sleep
4) For right now, a girlfriend (and eventually, get married)
5) Monkeys to fly out of my ass (just out of curiosity)
6) Unending supply of hot shower water
7) No traffic jams
8) Personal masseusse with 6 hands
9) World peace and the end of starvation
10) Personal security robot with death lasers that shoot out of its eyes

If you don't like the "one nation under God" part of the pledge of allegiance, then don't say it. I won't. But, at the same time, don't treat the ones who don't say it like they were un-patriotic antichrists. If I don't say "under God," am I still patriotic? Hell yes and don't piss me off. I don't know if there is a God, so why would I want our country unified by something I'm not sure exists?

On a completely different note, I am almost positive that my body doesn't fuction until 10am at the earliest. No matter how much sleep I get, I can't get up before that hour. Why must we fight the natural rythms of our body? My body says get up any time after 10am, take a half-hour nap sometime before 3 and 5pm, go to sleep between 1 and 3am. Constantly snack all day, with several larger "meals" in between. Have sex or masturbate when horny (these days, it's mostly the latter). That's what my body says and I'm not going to ignore it. Except that there's these things called "jobs" which keep me from doing what my body actually wants.

It's been a slow month at the Morning Job™. I've been here for three hours and answered the phone three times. The rest of the time I've been surfing the web or playing "Bejeweled" on my Handspring. Really, there is nothing to do here right now. Yet they expect me to come in. Sure, why the hell not. I'm being paid by the hour, so why the hell not. I guess I could not come to work and NOT get paid, but at least I'd feel more productive. That's okay. I leave in half an hour to Afternoon Job™ anyways.

I'm not a big sports fan, and I'm not writing this to belittle sports fans or anything. I'm just wondering. Why do sports fans go crazy over their favorite teams? Looking at it objectively, I'm just trying to figure that one out. Some people go completely bonkeroos watching a bunch of other people playing a game. They enjoy it, but wouldn't it be more fun to participate in the game than watch? Maybe some people aren't as good at the game as the ones playing, so they enjoy it vicariously.

But what drives a stadium of thousands to simultaniously enjoy vicariously to such fanatic fervor? It's almost religious. Do they pin their hopes on these teams? What do they hope for? Do the players represent what the spectator wishes for? Maybe the spectators wish they were sports stars, and are the teams living out their wishes?

Mabye it's the feeling of accomplishment at the end of a game. Mabye in watching a game the team, for the spectator, represents their personal desires for success. So when the team succeeds, the person feels like he/she succeeded. But why do we need a stand-in for our own feelings of success and accpomlishment? Are our own personal victories not enough to satisfy us? Do we need outside stimulus to inspire us to succeed in life? Can't we just do that on our own? Or does watching your team win excuse you from attempting to do anything in your own life?

On a completely different note, I may need new glasses soon (wow, did that subject change spin your head or what?). I've had the current pair for almost two years. What do I do that makes the left lenses of my glasses so scratchy? It's always the left lens that gets more scratchy than the right. Maybe the question should be, How do people keep their glasses scratch-free? Maybe they don't. Maybe I'm just like the teeming hoards of scratchy glasses people, but nobody says anything about it. I don't know. I think it's just me. I think I subconsciously want lasik surgery so I don't need glasses. But glasses have been part of my face for almost all my life. Oooh, I hate scratchy lenses.

Went to Karate class last night...first time in a long time. Boy, that's a great workout. I kept up pretty well, except that I keep forgetting my kata (forms). But it looks like I'll be going fairly regularly in July, so I have some time to get back up to speed. August may become a little busy again. I love doing martial arts.

Okay, well I don't do stand-up comedy any more (I did it from '90 - '97). But in our z3 show, I do a little thing about stand-up - it's called "Kennedy's not a stand-up", and in it, I talk about how I don't do stand-up any more, but I do it in stand-up form (oh, the irony!). Any-hoo, it's gotten the stand-up joke-writing part of my brain to work again, so now I come up with jokey things to say in my head, but I have no forum for it. Last night I came up with this one punch line that I can never ever use except in a stand-up venue. Man, that sucks. Maybe it would work as a slogan on a t-shirt. Who could I sell it to? Damn, you, Comedy Gods! Damn you!

I think I'm the only one who reads this, which is OK by me, 'cuz I have a hard time writing journals on paper. It's easier to do this while (whilst?) typing. And, since no one else is reading this, I feel safe saying that I'm naked right now.

Okay, so maybe I'm too dependent on this certain thing but okay, here it is...it's 3:25pm, and since 11:00am, I haven't received a single email, or phone call (home or cel). I know, it sounds rediculous, but I live and die by that kind of thing. If I don't get an email or phone call, I feel like a total loser! Okay, I know, it's not important. I mean, it's not. Really, it isn't. But for some reason I equate the number of emails/phone calls to the importance of my existence as a human on this planet. Is it just me? Maybe I should talk to a professional. A professional what, I don't know. Maybe a professional wrestler.

So, another fun weekend. Lots of sleep. Friday night Korea won the soccer match, so as I was driving thru K-town, it was PACKED!! I went to an art gallery opening that two of my friends were showing at, and there were some cool spoken word artists performing that night.

Saturday I went to Sportmart and got some camping supplies for Burning Man. On the way out, I stopped by the art store and then I HAD to go into Best Buy (I'm a guy and that's the law). Inside I ran into my friend Dave and his (I think) boyfriend. They were going to buy a TiVo. Dave is such a tech-head that I thought he would have it by now. He said he was going to enter "Charo" and see what kind of shows it would retrieve. Then I went to the Sol Festival, which was pretty cool, although I thought there would be more vendors. I got to see more friends perform. Then I went home and did laundry, cleaned the apartment, and SLEPT.

Sunday I did some more running around looking for camping & exercise stuff (I bought some push up handle bars...it's summer and I want to look less stick-like) and then I went to the IFP/West film festival to see a friend's movie. Oh, and I rented "Tombstone," which I never saw, and a video game, which is addicting. I have it till friday. Let's see how much sleep I get this week.

I'm at the Morning Job™ and I'm alone! Woo-hoo! Yippeee! I'm alone! I can work in my underwear! I can eat butter at the computer! I can make fart noises with my armpit! Yay!

Well, I could, but I'm not. I'm just sitting here surfing the web. I guess I can turn on the TV and watch HBO or Maury Povich ("...you are the father!").

I just could NOT get up this morning. It's crazy. I fell asleep at around 1:30am, yet I didn't get out of bed until around 10:30, which was the time I was supposed to be at work. Maybe it's the weather or something. Maybe my body is telling me to get some friggin rest. Which I need.

Today's weather is kinda wierd. Kinda cool and misty. Wierd for June. Maybe it's earthquake weather!!! So instead of scootering to work (and since I was late as all hell), I drove to work. Which is good because I have a ton of quarters I need to unload, and parking meters are a good, quick way to do that. Maybe I should give them to the homeless dudes here downtown, but I've slowly stopped doing that. Mabye that's why I have so much change. I used to give change to people freely. Heck, I couldn't go down Haight Street in San Francisco without emptying my pockets of change. But nowadays, maybe it's because I'm older, I'm really reluctant to give anything anyomore. I've noticed I'm not that giving to strangers, and I've got this semi-cold attitude to strangers and even people behind counters and such. I'm attributing it to the January 2001 incident. I think I don't want to come across as vulnerable to people.

When I was in SF this past weekend I met a really cool woman. She works at a non-profit arts space. She gave me a ride home from our show. We talked about a bunch of art-related issues, which was pretty cool. Then we started to talk casually. I subtly probed around, subtly trying to bring out questions/phrases that would at least identify her sexual orientation (I can't tell you how many times I've had crushes on women who turn out to be lesbians). Anyway, I mentioned to her my "ken-spawn" idea (see my 6/10/02 entry). She thought it was interesting. Then she countered with "I told my friends that I would name my kid 'Megatron.'" I told her I thought that was an awesome name. She said "It would be okay for a girl, because you could call her Meg for short."

I think I'm in love.

I love my car. I rarely use it, though. Usually about 3 or 4 times a week. But it needs a vacuum and constant washing. I don't have a garage, and the LA air is so sooty there's always a layer of dust on it. Of all my vehicles, this one is the cleanest I've kept. Pretty good, considering what a car slob I am. I am determined to keep the trunk fairly empty. I don't know why, but I love empty trunks. It's a preparedness thing, I guess. I've always kept the "be prepared" thing since the boy scouts, and having trunk space makes me feel like I can take things on at a moment's notice. Large box? No problem. Bicycle? No problem. Dead body? Well, if you insist, sure. You clean it out, though.

Same thing goes for my apartment, too. This is the first apartment I've had on my own, so I try to keep it fairly clean. Sure, I let it all go to hell on those extremely, insanely busy weeks/months, like MAY, but in general, I've been keeping my slobbishness to a minimum. There was a time where you couldn't walk in my room without stepping on something. I think I'm that way because before, I used to have roommates, so I had to make sure the common areas were liveable. And I guess I needed to have a space just for me to not care so much, so I figured "hell, I'll let my room fall to shit. As long as it doesn't creep out into the hallway, I'm cool."

But now that I have my own space, I've sort of created my own "sanctuary." I intentionally keep one section of my wall without any posters/pictures/furniture. I keep it bare. I call it my "zen space." Just a blank area to keep all clutter away, so no matter what the situation is, there is always a space with nothing.

Just a thought...if I ever have a son (and that's a BIG IF...that's if I have ANY children at ALL), I will name him Malakas (MA-la-KÁS) or Lakas (la-KÁS). It's Tagalog. Someone I know named her son that, and I think it's pretty cool.

Turns out that cousin R is going to Burning Man in an RV, and is camping with 40+ others in their own theme camp. Score! Now I don't have to worry about showers or refrigeration!

Yesterday I dedided to email/call some people I haven't heard from in a long, long time. I should do that every couple of days or so, just to see what people are up to, and to make sure they don't think I died. And it feels good for two reasons: 1) Making contact with someone you haven't seen or heard from in a while is just a good thing, and 2) Hearing someone say "I miss you" is a really good way to pick yourself up.

Went to Food 4 less the other night and bought a lot of food, some of which was not really necessary or healty - chocolate/peanut butter oreos? Health - bad. Taste, not so bad...not the greatest, but not un-enjoyable. Frozen White Castle Cheeseburguers? Bad, but yummy. Aside from that, I've been watching my junk intake, just cuz. Oooh...armor hot dogs? Bad, but OH SO YUMMY.

Your heartbeat in the morning is the greatest gift.
When lightning stops it's because it knows you are near.

I hope to say these to my girlfriend someday, whenever I acquire one. Till then I'm eating chocolate and doing crunches every night.

P.S.
I finally, FINALLY fixed the mailto refs in this webpage. Man, I am such a dork.

P.P.S.
I did it. I bought a ticket to Burning Man. I made a reservation for a car rental. I guess I'm going now. My cousin, R, is going, so at least I'll know one person up there. We'll see how it goes.

This past weekend has got to be one of the most fun, exciting, carefree and overall fun weekends I've had in a long, long time. Start with Friday...I fly to SF to meet E, T and J to do our show. I get there about 3:45pm. We do tech. We eat and then have a warm-up. The Friday evening crowd was not to big, yet it they had a really, really good time. Even Mom and Dad showed. After the show, people come up to us with this glimmer in their eye and thank us for our show. Thanks us? I thank THEM for showing up! We go to the basement and chill and jam with the theater staff. I go home and almost immediately fall asleep.

Next day, Mom and Dad take me out to Japanese food. Yum. I take the subway to the theater. We have time to chill out, then do our warm-up. My brother and his girlfriend show up. The place is packed. There are people in the aisles. People are hyped. We have an awesome show. Now, even MORE people with the glimmer come up and thank us. Again, we thank THEM for just being there. After the audience leaves, in the tradition of the staff, they do a parody of the show. They even rope in our own sound guy to be part of it. My cheeks hurt from all the laughing. We go downstairs to chill and jam with the staff again.

Sunday I fly back to L.A. and take a nap before I go to the party where JC and I are having our joint birthday party. It's at this wacky place in Eagle Rock...it's a bowling alley with a chinese restaurant, a cheap bar with karaoke, a pool table and video games. What more would you want? Many, many friends show up and we just have a hoot. JC said all that was missing was a swimming pool and free sex for everyone.

Wow. What a weekend.

Just now realized that my email link on this page was SPELLED WRONG. Great. No wonder no one writes to me. They don't write to me because I CAN'T EVEN SPELL MY OWN EMAIL ADDRESS!!

I forgot to mention...on Sunday, at ML's party, I went to the parking lot and saw a car lying on its roof. How the...yeah. KC and I looked at it with the amazement of children looking at big fish in an aquarium. Wow. How did it get like that? It didn't look like it was in an accident or anything. Except for the windows being all craked up, there was no real external damage that indicated an impact or anything. We guessed that someone was pissed at whoever it was who owned the car, and got a bunch of friends or someone with a truck or something to roll it onto its roof. It was quite a site, and I wish I got some pictures of it.

Every night for the last several months or so, at around 11:45pm, birds start chirping, REAL LOUD, around my neighborhood. It's wierd for two reasons...first, it is 11:45pm, and second, I live in downtown L.A. I think they live across the street in the trees around the police station. But damn, they are loud. I think they're average loud, but since the streets are empty, and their chirps bounce off the buildings, they sound EXTREE loud.

But the birds are not as loud as that guy who lives in the corner apartment. He looks to be in his early forties, and he seems like a normal guy when I see him in the hall. He rides a bike. But once in a great while, he just goes in a tirade and shouts heavily slurred English and Japanese for what seems like hours. I think he's either drunk or he forgets to take his meds or something. I've called the police on him twice. He lives alone, and he shouts at no one in particular out the window. He walks around his apartment in a towel and just shouts. He's been warned by the management I think twice, and he's calmed down for a while, but now he's starting up again.

Maybe he's shouting at the birds.

Wow. I was just sitting here wondering what to write about, and I thought, "Just start with the events of yesterday, and things will start coming up." But I don't remember anything quite outstanding from yesterday. Other than my acting class got cancelled so I went to food4less to go grocery shopping, where I bought a bunch of cheap food and got some ideas of stuff to bring if I go to Burning Man.

On the subject of Burning Man, I'm going mostly out of curiosity. I heard 'bout it many years ago when I was still in San Francisco, and it made me curious. Now I'm wondering what types of people will be out there. Of course there are the artsy-fartsy types (myself included), but there are also the hippie-dippy types, the ravers, the goths, and the renaissance faire types (don't get me started on THAT one). I wonder how much my tolerance level will be pushed. It's rather high already. But get 20,000 of them together? Hmmm...

But anyways, back to yesterday. Um, yeah. Nothing much happened. I went to the post office. Oh, yeah, I went to buy the latest Giant Robot Magazine, and Margaret Cho mentioned me! Wow, that was a big 'ol surprise right there, junior!

Yes. I drank last night. Not a lot, though. One sake, one beer. That's it. Cold sake, too. Tastes pretty good...you should try it. Cold sake is interesting. You drink it out of a sqare, wooden cup, instead of a small, round cup. It's pretty refreshing. Anyway...party last night...crowded. JC made me laugh like a madman. He's the only guy that can do that.

Anyhoo, went to bed late and woke up with a stiff neck. I'm oooooold.

I have decided that if I ever have children, I will refer to them collectively as "Ken-spawn." You know, to replace the use of "kids" or "children." "Hey, why don't you come over and meet the Ken-spawn?" or "Those are my Ken-spawn over there."

On a completely different note, here is another question that popped up during my quest to Figure It All Out™: Why did we humans take in pets? I understand how we took in the cow for milk and meat, but when and why did dogs and cats become part of our family? We take in another species of animal and treat them like they were us. We give them names, food and water, even their own bed. Why? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

And would someone please tell my why I'm suddenly getting all these hot sex porn adverts on my e-mail?

Okay, I think I set a record for myself (at least since college). I think I had an alcoholic drink every night this week. EVERY NIGHT. I haven't done that since I don't know when. I'm probably going to do that again tonight, since it's ML's birthday, and he likes to drink. OK. We'll see how it goes. Damn, all these birthdays!! Damn them!! You maniacs!!

You know what day it is today? IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!! Ya-hoo! Last night I went out with E and he bought me a beer at midnight. Hooray for mee! It's my BIRTHDAY! I'm thir(cough) years old. Hooray for meee!

I wanna go back to sleep. Last night went out to celebrate ML's birthday. Damn, these Geminis! Didn't drink as much as the night before, but just enough. Will stay home and sleep tonight, no matter what. Tomorrow is my birthday!! Will probably do something low-key since JC and I are having a party on the 16th. Maybe a movie or just go out to eat.

It was about 78 degrees at 10:30am. Boy, it's hot. And I drank too much last night.

So last night T and E and I performed at the cafe. It was the first time all three of us were together in over a week. So we hit the stage, and I looked over to my left and saw T's head, and E's head beyond hers, and I thought "Wow, this is great." I love working with those guys.

Went to the bar, where J was celebrating his birthday. So I payed the tab for his table. Share the wealth. I also bought TB dinner the other night. Just to share the wealth.

Two great things: Hershey's Kisses Limited Edition Dark, and Hershey's Kisses Limited Edition Creamy.

Finally got some money for my commercial yesterday. AND, after paying off the agent and the manager, I IMMEDIATELY pulled out all the bills I haven't payed in the last 3 months or so. After all that, I have a little less than half of my original check. And of that half, I put about half away in savings. So that means I only really have a couple hundred dollars of fun money. Okay. Well, at least I got rid of a lot of bills...for now. And I STILL haven't seen the commercial.

Morning Job is kind of slow right now. At least I have time to surf the web.

I love these kinds of problems. I have to be in SF to do a show with zero 3 for June 14 and 15, but my agent needs me available in LA for a commercial on the 14th. Wow. This is a problem that's good to have.

Okay, so the Warhol exhibit wasn't free after all. I guess since it's a "special" exhibit, it's never free. Well, that sucks. Fucking elitists. It cost $12 ($17 on the weekends). I really wanted to see it, so I shelled out everything in my wallet ($12 admission, plus $5 if you wanted the audio tour, which I did...pretty nice...narrated by Dennis Hopper). Anyway, it was a lot of money, so I "accidentaly" took some pictures with my eyemodule2. Don't tell anyone, okay?

Got a last minute audition this afternoon. Hooray for me. And there's a *slight* chance TGIFridays will do some re-shooting. Wow, I need the moolah.

I'm really excited...it's Thursday, which means the Museum of Contemporary Art is free after 5pm, so I'm gonna go see the Warhol exhibit (if it's not rediculously crowded). Woo hoo!!

And I don't have to go to Morning Job tomorrow! Double Woo Hoo!!!!

I've been at the Morning Job for an hour and the phone has rung twice. Now I'm just surfing the web. Such is the Morning Job. Sure, there are worse jobs out there. It's just so darn quiet here sometimes it drives me batty.

Bought Gran Turismo A-spec for the Playstation2. They're really cheap right now ($19). And last week I got an eyemodule2 for my Visor (not so cheap). I'm glad that some games are cheap now, since I'm hardly ever home to play them in the first place. The eyemodule, on the other hand, has got me into photography again. yeah, it's not a great digital camera by any means, but it's got me seeing things in with a photographer's eye again, and it's gotten me into photoshop again. And I don't have to pay for film or developing. Oh, geez, maybe I'm regressing by buying myself these toys.

Two and a half hours and I get to scooter away.

I'm thinking of attending Burning Man this year. Seriously. Don't know anyone who's going. I may go by myself.

A word to the wise: don't razor-scooter when you're angry. It's dangerous.

T is writing for the "Bionicle" cartoon, so I decided to go to the Lego site and learn more about it. "Bionicle" is pretty intriguing. Robots in the jungle? Who woulda thought? Robots with legendary stories and almost mystical powers? Sounds stupid, but after reading the online comics, I thought it was pretty cool. Lego sure is changing. From painful blocks to theme toys to fashion watches, and now, a comic/cartoon. Wow. Pretty cool.

Maybe I'm regressing.

Morning Job always gets me in trouble because my checks don't come in a timely manner. My manager tried to cash his commission check, but couldn't, because I didn't have enough money in the bank. And that was because the Morning Job check, which I invoiced on the 15th, didn't show up in my hands until yesterday afternoon. Not cool.

Still have not seen my commercial or any residuals from it. Apparently half my face is in it, but at least they didn't cut my line.

Boy, I must sound bitchy. But I was sleeping so well, but had to cut it short because of the Morning Job. And if you know me, then you know that I love my sleep.

Still don't know if we're going to San Francisco in June. It's not as difficult as I'm making it out to be, I'm sure.

JC and I are supposed to throw a joint birthday party again. Last year was really, really fun. Hope we can do it again this year. This time, JC wants to rent a bowling alley. that would be cool.

Morning job - boring. Afternoon job - wonderful.

Barge crashes in to bridge, dead intern was victim of homicide, and I complain about the price of movies.

Happy memorial day. Sad to think that a bunch of men went off to war and died so I could lie in bed all day on a Monday like a lazy fuck. Thanks, guys, and sorry.

Went to see spidey-man today with T. Pretty standard action-type movie. But we paid $11.00 because they were sold out of the $9 seats. $11 gets you the "loge" seats, which are larger, leather, and they rock a little. Not bad, but still, it was $11. We tried to sneak into Star Wars to get our money's worth,but a 3-day holiday is a bad time to try to sneak into movies. Almost every movie was sold out. So, next week, we're going to go to a matinee (only $6.75) and sneak into as many movies we can until they throw us out. Plus, we're briniging in tons of our own food.

Wow, okay, busy day, great show. Although I was starting to tire out during the end. By the curtain call, I wanted to just go to sleep. But we didn't. We went to our local downtown L.A. bar/grill and had a goodby for E., who is moving back to Chicago. Sad. But the waitress was flirting with me again. She let me play with her hair, which I LOVE doing, 'specially since she's got beautiful, long, straight blonde hair. Oooh, yes. Yowsa.

As I sit here at my Morning Job™, the question of "why am I here" pops up. And when I ask that, I mean "why am I sitting at this desk right now," as opposed to "why do I exist" (but it'll evolve to that really soon, just watch).

Last night, after rehearsal, t and e and I sat down and stressed out about the show. Should we edit stuff? How are we feeling about it? Can we change anything? It was late, and we were tired, and we stressed out over those questions. We always stress over a show. On the drive home, I thought to myself that I would rather stress out over the art I created than stress out over weather or not Richard Gere's photo went to the right press people. Which brought me to the question "why am I here" at this Morning Job™. Which then led me to the question of "why do we do what we do?"

Does it matter weather or not "Survivor" gets top ratings? Does it matter that "Spiderman" kicks box office ass? Who does it matter to? It only matters to the producers. Why should people like that get paid rediculous amounts of money? Sure, "Sex in the City" may be entertaining, but do the actors deserve all that money? As an artist, my work is important to me, and I'd like to make a living off of my work, but, in all honesty, I would feel wierd being paid rediculous amounts of cash for doing what I love doing anyway. Sure, if I got enough money to pay the rent, eat, have fun, and take a vacation once in a while, that would be awesome. But do I need to make as much as a small country?

Hopefully these answers will help me find the Answer To It All.

Okay, I know, this whole Figuring It All Out, finding the Answer To It All seems like an obsession now. So is the whole reclusive like J.D. Salinger thing. They go together well, though, don't they? If I become a recluse, I'll have more time to find the Answer To It All.

It may have started with my motorcycle accident last August. I think since then, my mind has tried to prioritize what's Really Important. So I've been in a constant state of figuring out What's Important to Me...and I mean constant...practically every day. And I think that constant figuring has led to trying to figure out bigger and bigger questions, which has led me here.

Add to that another traumatic incident back in January 2001, and I think it all leads up to the Big Questions. Which makes the reclusive thing make even more sense.

Will I ever Figure It All Out? Right now I'm just too tired to care. Yeah, it's only 12:30pm, but I'm tired and I just want to get to our show this weekend. Hoping people will make it to Saturday. Everyone says "I can make it on Friday." And I mean EVERYONE. I don't think anyone has said that they could make it on Saturday. Sheesh. If no one shows up on Saturday I'll just cry. I'm that tired. And I'm frustrated because I haven't found the Answer To It All™.

Perfidy. Great word. Look it up.

Okay, it's 12:30pm. An hour and a half and I get to leave. I also just learned a better way to edit my log.

It's after midnight, and I still havent found the Answer To It All™. Although I do know the following things...

1. All forms of existence are unique events and will never occur and never be replicated again, ever.
2. The whole universe is connected.
3. Karma. Life operates in cycles. All actions, events, people, come back in some way/form.
4. Don't know if there is a being that created/rules the universe, but if there is, I don't think it has something as trivial as gender. So for those who try to argue that "God" is male or female, just stop it right now. Really, if you think about it, if there is something that created the universe and all life in it and all the rules/laws/physics, I think it's quite ignorant for us to assign it a sex.
4A. If there is a supreme being, I think threw in a lot of irony in the recipie for my life. Maybe I should be flattered, because maybe it thinks I am smart enough to notice it. Or maybe it just likes to fuck with me. My life is full of ironic twists and almost cosmic-sized jokes.

Lotsa stuff this week. Toldya it was busy. Found out my dad went in for some health tests. He was diagnosed with the early stage of leukemia. Mom didn't sound worried about it, so I wasn't that worried. If she sounded frantic or anything I would have dropped everything to go back and visit.

On a lighter note, during work this weekend, got to meet a pretty cool young woman. I love watching her laugh. She also makes me laugh. It's been a long while that a woman has made me double over laughing. She was the brightest spot of my weekend. We exchanged numbers. I hope I see her again real soon.

Our show opens friday. We're feeling really, REALLY good about it. I love my writing partners. I love working with them. I love them as people too.

12:44 PM
It rained this morning. Not a lot, but it rained. L.A. has been extremely dry this year, so the
rain was pretty cool to look at. I miss the rain. I wish it would rain more.

My daily quest to Figure It All Out™ continues. Boy, that's hard.

8:06 PM
The English Beat's "Special Beat Service" is a pretty fun album. If you like ska, then you
should check it out. I'm sleepy. I want the answer to everything. What is it?

11:59:10 PM
It's almost midnight. Still trying to Figure It All Out™. Still trying to find the Answer
To It All™. Still haven't found it.

Maybe, instead of becoming J.D. Salinger, I'm becoming more like Holden Caufield from "Catcher in the Rye." That's scary. I hear myself criticizing people as "phony." I usually catch myself, too, especially since I've been doing that a lot lately. I have to stop and say "Whoah, there, Holden!"

I went to a private school like Holden, but I only went to one. Holden got kicked out of four. I just transferred to a public school for my senior year cuz I started hating it. No major disciplinary things happened to me while I was at the private school. Although once I was suspended and got 21 days of detention for cutting class. My friend A, who cut class with me, got out of it because his grandfather (who he never even knew) died, and he had to travel out of the country. He got away with everything. He was rich, and his parents never disciplined him. If he ever wanted something, he'd just buy it. I was middle class my parents were pretty heavy-handed with the rules. I couldn't afford anything. A was my friend, but I really hated him. He was a phony. SEE!!! SEE!!! I TOLD YOU!!!

I don't want to ruin it for everyone, but I have it on good authority that the purple M&M won the popular vote.

Did I ever tell you that when I was in the Boy Scouts, my brother taught me how to hypnotize lizards? I found out later that it's the same technique people use to hypnotize chickens. I guess it's because birds evolved from lizards, so their brains are similar.

Just a random thought I'd like to give you guys.

I think I'm losing it.

So I'm at my Afternoon Job™. It's about 1:45am. See? Told you it's that time of the year. Aaaaaany-hoo, my Morning Job™ boss wants me to come in earlier tomorrow morning (about 9:30am - I went over this before, but yes, 9:30 is fucking early for me). But he KNOWS I'm working late at my other job. In fact, he sometimes helps out at my Afternoon Job. But he wants me to come in early anyways. I usually show up earlier when he asks, but when I get there, it's just an extra hour of doing nothing very important...nothing worth going in early for. So, I figure, since he knows I'm tired, he's making me come in early so he can take advantage of my sleep-deprived state and brain-wash me. I don't know what exactly, but I'm afraid I'm going to become a pawn in an international game of intrigue and espionage. I'll be used as a weapon to dismantle failing governments, following orders blindly to steal state secrets and sell them to countries desperate to extend their claws of influence over large regions.

The sucky part is that, since I'll be brainwashed, I won't remember any of it.

For those wondering about that award I was nominated for... According to a journalist friend of mine, the awards pretty much went to those who showed up. Obviously I didn't get one. I heard that the director asked my friend, "Did Kennedy not have a good time during the production?" He stammered and said, "I dunno...why do you ask?" He hesitated because he heard ALL my complaints about the director. It was his first play. I can forgive that. But what I don't forgive is the awful way he treated people. I mean, EVERYONE. It seems like NO ONE in the cast, not even the TECH CREW, not even ONE OF THE PRODUCERS could stand him after the first week or so. We were so happy after the show started because he wasn't around.

One reason why I may not post anything daily. - I just got "Twisted Metal Black." I may not write again for years. This is the first step to my reclusivity...or is it reclusiveness? I also got The English Beat's "Special Beat Service." I may be showing my age, but I've always thought they were hip.

Some people are idiots. Myself included sometimes. Okay, that's all I wanted to say on that subject.

Just want to let everyone know, www.theonion.com is the only website that makes me laugh out loud while reading, which is hard when I'm at my Morning Job™. because there's only four of us in this small office space, and people are on the phone doing Important Things™.

My fantasy
Okay, I have recently started this fantasy and it's becoming a growing desire. It's kind of wierd, but not in a kinky way, so don't get your hopes up. I want to become a recluse. I don't think my friends believe me, but I really, really want to become one. The only thing is, I'd need to become a lottery winner first because I can't be reclusive and have two Jobs now, can I?

I used to think reclusive people were interesting, or interestingly eccentric, like J.D. Salinger or Howard Hughes (OK, he's more freaky than interesting). I looked at them with a sense of novelty. But now that lifestyle is becoming attractive to me. I've been trying to figure out why, and the only conclusion is that there was this traumatic incident that happened to me in January of 2001, and since then, the reclusive life has started to make sense to me. Really limiting my human contact sounds really good to me. I mean, I wouldn't be completely anti-social. I'd have to go to the store or answer the door for the grocery delivery guy, and I'd be civil and nice to them, but I don't think I would want to carry any long, revealing conversations with them. And then maybe this blog will be my only real contact with the outside world.

Now that would be wierd. But I like it.

No, really, this isn't going to be a daily thing. I swear. I just know that in a few weeks I'm going to stop posting for days on end and wonder when I'll post next. Actually, I may stop soon, because it's getting really busy with work, and with a show coming up, I may not be posting every day. No, really, it's going to be like that, trust me. Just you watch. The next post won't be until September or something. I mean it. Really. Take that smirk off your face.

So last night I had rehearsal with zero 3. Man, I'm really excited about our upcoming weekend show. 2 nights. There is nothing as satisfying as performing something you wrote. And we do that constantly. It feels great, and I guess it's lucky that we get so many chances to write and perform our stuff. There aren't 2 other people I'd rather work/write/perform with. They make me want to become a better writer. I love those two, and I say that with all sincerity. They're not only my writing/performing partners, they are my friends, confidants and trusted travelers on this artistic/personal journey we started in February 2000. zero 3 is still growing. We have experienced growing pains, and the last couple of months have been extremely trying for us, yet we believe in what we are doing, and we move forward despite the setbacks.

On a different note, it's supposed to be cooler today. I dunno. It was pretty hot at 10am. But despite my complaints, I dig weather extremes. I love really hot, really cold, or really rainy. I just never know how to dress. I think with the exception of snow, I never know how do dress for the weather. I guess layering would be the wisest, but most of the time I don't drive, so I don't have room to store extra clothing.

On an even different-er note, I wonder how that "Dinotopia" mini-series is doing?

On a similarly related note, I was watching TV the other day (look, I RARELY watch TV...I turn it on LATE AT NIGHT when I get back home, hoping to catch the late news reruns), and I've come to the conclusion that I hate shows like Extra or Entertainment Tonight. Much like the World's Greatest Commercials, I think it's stupid to have a TV show about TV shows.

Watched "Ebert & Roeper at the Movies" yesterday (unlike Morrissey, I wish everyday was like Sunday). Is it me, or has the Ebert/Roeper friendliness/new show getting-along-ness begun to crumble? I mean, for a while, they seemed civil to each other (I guess that hapens when you first work with someone), but now they seem close to knock-down drag-outs. Have their true selves begun to peek out? Maybe they're at the point where they know each other enough to do battle. They both put up arguments and they don't back down. I half expected a "you're stupid," "no, you're stupid" exchange. I'm glad, though. It's more fun when they get catty. Maybe after the cameras shut down they kiss and make up and make sweet love.

According to my Timex Helix watch, it's 78degrees farenheit, barometer's at 29.65, and I'm facing 304degrees NW.

In case I die
This may sound morbid, but I left instructions for what to do if I die. I left them in an envelope with "IN CASE I DIE" written on it, so people won't confuse it with other envelopes (like the envelope that says "Bills I Can't Pay"). And if that doesn't get anyone's attention, then the people searching my apartment would be dumb-asses. Here is an excerpt, because some parts have very sensitive information...

1. I want to be creamated. Please don't stick me in the ground where I will only take up space for who knows how long, and then people will have to get scared because of the fear of desecrating my grave, and i don't want my coffin to pop up like in the movie "Poltergeist." So, please, please have me cremated. And do what you will with the ashes. Scattering them would be cool. An urn would be nice too, as it would take up less space and you can put it on a shelf or something.

2. I'd like a non-denominational memorial service. Even though I was baptized Roman Catholic, I am no longer practicing any religion. And, as my friends are of many faiths, I'd just like a ceremony everyone can feel like they're a part of. Oh, yeah, and dress is casual...

3 through 5 omitted on this page for security reasons.

6. Oh, yeah, after the memorial service, I'd like there to be a reception. And I want the reception to be fun, with lots of laugher and music (music I like, so look through my CD collection). And I want everyone to share their love, and I want everyone to hug each other and tell them they love them, and call them their brother or sister.

...you get the point. Then there are instructions on what to do in case the instructions are found WAY AFTER I've died, and my family has done some other kind of service. Not that I want to die any time soon, but when I do, I don't want anyone fucking up my service.

Does anyone care about Dinotopia on ABC? I don't. I'm more interested in The Simpsons and the X-Files. Yes, I have an inner geek, and it needs to be appeased.

Please help me because I don't get it anymore

So I'm watching TV last night by myself, just like any hip and crazy single guy living in L.A. would do, right? Yeah, right. Aaaany-whoo, I flip the channels and run into a show called "The world's Greatest commercials" or something like that, hosted by Arsenio Hall and some blonde model. The thing that disturbed me wasn't Asenio's hair, or the model's tacky outfit, but the show itself.

Are you catching my drift yet? It's a TV show about COMMERCIALS. I'm not getting it. How bass-ackwards is the country becoming? It's like having a magazine about magazine ads. Instead of actual programming, we're looking to commercials for entertainment. So now, instead of watching maybe 47 minutes of a show with 13 minutes of commercials, we're watching 60 minutes of commercials, with dipshit commentary in between. And why does a TV show about commercials need COMMERCIAL BREAKS?

It's fascinating that our culture is so much about being a consumer that we enjoy watching the ways we are being told to consume. How to tell people what to buy has become an art in itself. Is that scary or interesting? Or interestingly scary?

P.S. Happy mother's day!

It may seem like my postings are going to be daily, but believe me, they're not. I'm not really a consistent writer. Really, I'm not kidding. It just so happens that this week I felt like writing almost every day. So don't get all antsy waiting for the next post, okay?

So, aaaaaaaaaaaany-hoo, yesterday I got notice from the manager that my rent check bounced.

Say what?

I said, MY RENT CHECK BOUNCED.

Wow, that's what I thought you said, but I wasn't sure, so I just...

Okay, get the point. I was surprised, too. Well, kida surprised. My Morning Job™ is notoriously late giving me my paychecks. It's a freelance job, so they cut a check for me. My Afternoon Job™ is pretty much on the mark with the checks, bless 'em.

Anyways, I was about $30 short, so it bounced. This has never happened to me (wait, no, I take that back, it happened to me once about five years ago, but the lease was under my roommate's name, so he was cool with it...I just wrote him another check when the money came). So I was kinda agitated. What with work being all busy now.

Well, I went to rehearsal last night, and rehearsals always take my mind off of everything. i get to concentrate and focus with what's going on in the moment. By the way, our show is shaping up, and I'm excited about it. Just hope we can fill the house. We got a special guest each night.

Well, back to the rent check thing...luckily, I got a check for my commercial this week (I still haven't seen the damn thing, but t says she's seen it), so I had enough to take care of the rent plus the late fee and the bounced check fee. I hope they don't hate me. This is the first time this has happened in the year that I've lived here.

*Just a note...for those of you who think "Wow, commercial...isn't that, like a TON of money?" Sometimes. But right now, no. This check was a "holding fee," which was not very big. Plus, take away about 25% for taxes, 10%(of the gross) for my agent, and 15%(of the gross) for my manager, and I'm left with...hmmm...let's see...[tapping on calculator]...ah-hah! According to my calculations, I get shit!