One more from the Mis-Heard Lyrics Department: every time I hear Live's "All Over You" I keep thinking their lead's singing "Our love is like Walter".

So Braunbeck and I, addled as we are by the vast quanitities of cough syrup we've consumed to combat The Cold That Would Not Die, started making up lyrics to a song called "Our Love Is Like Walter" as we were driving to the movies tonight:

Our love is like Walter
Grey and kinda gnarly and smelling strange
Our love is like Edith
Collecting cats and quite deranged
Our love is like Sidney
Cranky as a toothless dingo
Our love is like Beulah
Bitchin' 'bout her back and playing bingo

Hey, baby, yeah. *Hack* *Cough*

The movies? Yes, gotta love the dollar theater, especially since prices at the AMC Lennox just jumped to $8 for a regular ticket. Yikes! And me with a bum ankle and a lungful of phlegm and no job, and the capitalists bastards are gonna make me pay $8 to see Harry Potter and The Two Towers. Yes, I could wait a few months and see them at the dollar theater, but I would absolutely explode in the meantime. I need my fantasy movie fix, dang it!

We saw "The Sum of All Fears" tonight. I'm not much of a Ben Affleck fan -- I liked him in "Dogma", but overall he seems a bit too smirky. He was good in "Sum" -- a very well-directed film. I don't envy the scriptwriter who had to adapt Tom Clancy's book. Changing the bad guys to Nazis worked okay, but the special effects were great, particularly the bombing of the U.S. aircraft carrier and the explosion in Baltimore. When the bomb in Baltimore went off, I really did jump. I fully expected them to prolong the suspense a few more minutes, but no -- boom! Go see the movie. It's good. Unless it's the Robitussin talking.

/jen and I saw "Blood Work" at the same dollar theater a few nights ago. Clint Eastwood's getting pretty long in the tooth, but he's still convincing in an action role. And the love scene between him and an actress who is possibly young enough to be his granddaughter was only a little hokey. He's still hot, and the movie was well-written and had a good cast. The bad guy becomes pretty apparent two-thirds of the way into the movie, but overall it's a very decent thriller. Check it out when it hits video if you haven't seen it yet.

Oh! Video! Braunbeck and I rented "The Salton Sea" and "Brotherhood of the Wolf" on DVD this past week, also. Go rent! Go watch! Both excellent films, though for my money "The Salton Sea" was much better and very good film noir. If you get "Brotherhood of the Wolf", be sure to watch it subtitled in the original French; the English dubbing's pretty good overall, but the dubbing actor for the lead sounds like Dudley Do-Right. It's very distracting after about fifteen minutes.

Raw emotion, not able to really express yourself because there are too many things flying about your head at once.

Being blown off, not really inclined to comment about it because you know that there's nothing you can do about it.

Losing something that means the world to you all over again -- indescribeable.

Sometimes emotions just jump up and drop kick you right in the teeth. Sometimes it's warrented, others it's just not fair. But I guess such is life -- it isn't "fair". Stupid day logs

I quit my fraternity, I shot the worst game of pool in my life, and once again -- it's another lonely day.

And there's no earthly way to describe it no matter how much I try. It only all sounds like teen angst BS. No matter how real any of this petty life feels, it's all worthless and means little of much of anything. It's a very slow, painfull death. I'm over that state in my life, I've reached stability... but have I really?

Are you depressed as fuck?

Yes... but you know, for the first time in my life -- I really don't know why.
Perhaps I just won't talk to her anymore -- she's almost made it clear that she needs nothing to do with me. I'm just detached from the situation, I'm just not around -- and thank God for that, because I'd be a lot worse off if I were in the same city. Man, crazy BS alive, nothing lasts forever.

That’s my rant… my raw unfiltered emotion. Here is better than nowhere – daylogs are as good as nowhere, but somehow giving meaning to all the collective pain, and angst, and loneliness in the world.

You shoot me in the heart one last time. Goodbye.

Envy Is Bad But Oh, So Tempting

Time: 11:33am
Mood: Contemplative

Been a long time between drinks for this DeadJournal, but this entry should make up for it :-).

"What makes it so hard is not that you had it bad, but that you're that pissed that so many others had it good." - Jack Nicholson, As Good As It Gets

Found out today that a mate of mine back home gets fifty dollars a week in pocket money. Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. I don't know about you, but that's a lot of money to be getting every week outside of part-time employment or drug-dealing ;-). Guess it's sorted who's buying the drinks on our next pub trek, eh James? But I'm not mad. You're just damn lucky, that's all.

As for me, well, after buying a pair of replacement glasses (those progessive lenses aren't cheap, y'know) and perhaps some new clothes (doubtful since I will need to spend money during the next few days and I only have enough for the cothes and the glasses), I'm not going to have much money for a while. Crap. Starting to look forward to pay day, when my club pays me 500kr for my monthly allowance.

Well, last weekend was a bit of a letdown. A nice day in town with the crew again (no complaints there), where we stayed in Coffeehouse By George for something like 3 hours. Rush home, shower, get ready, eat a quick dinner, have a Red Bull, get excited and rush to the garage to find that there are no available bikes. Shit. Cue a slight crisis before I eventually took the bus in and met Steve at Camel at about 10:15. Get into the pub (Bergsbron) to find that in a busy bar on a Saturday night, there are about four people from my school (Ebersteinska) there. Great. And this was supposed to be organised for my school. I didn't feel like staying until 3, which was when the party ended, so I took the bus home at 1:30am. The upshot of this was that I got to chat a bit with Jonas, who goes to my school and is a nice guy. Disappointing to say the least, although the 2 for 1 drinks at the bar meant that it wasn't a complete disaster. That and making puns about the drink called an Orgasm. Heh.

It took me nearly an hour to get to sleep last night. I think I'm going (more) insane, sometimes. This increased awareness of the positive (and negative) reactions of people in our group has kind of put me on edge.

I've just been thinking about the group a lot, lately. About the negativity that existed (and in some ways, continues to exist) in our group. Trying to deal with the reality that some people that you will meet will not like you. That they may never like you. And even though it's not your fault and that you shouldn't be kicking your own arse over it - it doesn't make it any easier to accept. Much less suck it up and move on. Sure, you can always say that we don't live in a perfect world and that people will never always agree. Wishful thinking is called that because it comes from wishing. And people will always wish. I will always wish.

Put simply, it's the conflict between my desire to get along with everyone and the reality that I won't. It's the difficulty of accepting the bad days as well as the good. But I believe that one day I will accept these things. Just not today.

I really need something right now, and I don't know what it is.

So Mom's visit is over as of this morning at 8.

Last night was the only time we actually got to talk by ourselves, without my aunt being around. After hanging around the mall for a couple of hours (mom's a shopaholic) and food at Applebee's, she sat in the passenger seat of my car, and we drove to my apartment, because she wanted to see where I'm living.

I gave her the Grand Tour of the living room/kitchenette and bedroom/bathroom, and then she sat on one of the three chairs in the apartment. I sat on its twin, and brought out the photo albums, to make the visit seem more like a real visit than an cabin inspection at summer camp. Then, after talking about the pictures, my hairy upper lip when I was 12 years old and how waxing is such a blessing, we started driving back to my aunt's house.

She asked me if I was moving in with Collins when I moved up to Milwaukee, and I said obviously not, as we've only been together for 5 months so far, and, being so young, one year into a relationship is way too soon to move in together.

(This morning I had a dream in which my aunt said that 19 wasn't too young to get married.)

Then she said said that I really should try to not get pregnant. I think she was secretly hoping that I would deny that I am sexually active. I told her that she didn't need to worry about that, and hoped she would leave it at that. But, of course, she couldn't.

"Are you on the pill?"
"No, the shot."
"Which shot?"

And then she went off on a rant about how I should be abstinent, because I couldn't be sure that Collins isn't cheating on me, and I could catch an STD. "Uh, no, mom, I actually trust him."

"You trust him? How can you trust him?"
"How can I not? We're in a relationship, ferchrissake! I wouldn't be with him if I didn't trust him."
"Men are all dicks. You shouldn't trust him."
"Mom, did you get a bad feeling about him, or something?"
"No, not at all. He seems like an okay guy. But he must be a dick. He has one. It comes with the Y-Chromosome."

The sad thing is that she really believes that.

Then, for a couple of hours, I was absolutely paranoid. Mom really has a way of shaking me up. What if she's right, and I'm way too naïve?

I talked with Collins.

"Jeez, Jen, calm down! Right now, we're young. Know that I love you and you love me, and that's all we need to know. I'll never cheat on you. It's just not the kind of guy I am. Maybe we won't be together forever, but that's just because we're so young. But who knows? But for now, it's just you, and me, and our love, and stuff."

I believe him.

I'm going to miss the Packers Bears game tonight. To me, that's like waking up on December 26th and realizing you've slept through Christmas. But I have rehearsal, and theatre people just don't understand the concept of sports, no matter how heated the rivalry.

I grew up my whole life having the simple but powerful doctrine of "Packers Suck" permanently burned into my brain, to the point where I would have to really consider Brett Favre my arch-enemy. And I know I'm not alone.

There's a t-shirt that I always see at NFC games: "Packer's Suck, Brett Favre Swallows". I sing "The Pack Still Sucks" at the top of my lungs every Sunday. I cheered three years ago when Favre left Lambeau Field with a towel over his head because he'd performed so miserably. On opening Sunday in Champaign I saw people hanging, burning and beating effigies of the fabled, Vicodin ridden #4, and of course, let's talk about his putrid acting in There's Something About Mary and his horrid pronounciation of his horrid name. No really, let's. Email me and we'll talk about it.

I have never in my whole Chicago based life heard ONE positive thing about Brett Favre, as I'm sure up in Packer land they trash the all Holy and Glorious Name of Walter Payton (although how they could do that, I'm not quite sure, since he was the greatest man of all time.) I was raised to believe that Brett Favre is an alcoholic, a drug addict, a man who cheats on his wife, a cocky son of a bitch, an idiot, a lucky bastard, and probably a cannibalistic murderer. (I think my grandpa threw that last one in).

So you can see that the Packers Bears games are a big deal for me and my family. My father has stress induced glaucoma from watching these yearly games, and is required to periodically take his pulse and blood pressure while watching football. He always told me when I was learning the basics of football that we should never root for an injury, then screamed for the defense to "break their necks." We nearly started a war when the Pack deliberately injured Jim McMahon long after the whistle blew. I require a room of my own with no one around me when the game is on. My mother once mentioned that she thought Favre was "good looking" and my family nearly tore her to bits like a bizarre South Side Bacchanalia. I have been known to weep openly like a young widow at how these games turn out. I continuously throw things at the pastily ubiquitous John Madden as he slurringly gives Favre verbal hummers, my friend Ann had a blind date with a man here in Chicago and when he revealed he was a Packer Fan, she CALLED IT OFF. We AREN'T JOKING AROUND.

This is not just a game tonight...this is the deciding factor in whether I'm in a good mood for the next four months or a bad one. And I'm going to miss I can be in a movie. Sigh.

Mario Gonzalez (idea)

To those of you silly Americans who are lost in your miserable middle class life, and blindly walk past a friend:

Meet Mario Gonzalez. He's the guy who mows your lawn and trims those perfect hedges you never notice on your way to work. (Wouldn't you be surprised to know that he appreciates his job?)

He loves kids, he's a family man. You might be surprised that he actually talks to his relatives. They help eachother out all the time. (interesting thought, eh?) He'd help you with your car at 3am if you weren't too busy yelling at AAA on your little sleek cell phone. Yeah, he's the quiet one watching.

Mario Gonzalez is the busboy who thought to refill your water glasses and brought you a napkin when that cute redhead waitress was just too busy right then.

It's not too hard to learn a few words of Mario's language. You'd earn the respect of a fellow human being for once in your life, just because you tried. Chances are, he understands more about you than you could imagine.

to be continued...

There goes another one, wearing a shirt advertising pants. This one was for polo jeans. It just doesn’t make sense to me, why wear a shirt that advertises pants? I come back to that motto I had in my early childhood:

Jeans cause rashes. Don’t wear them.

This is my account of a trip to Central (or "Eastern") Oregon in order to do 2 video screenings of various short videos, by myself and others, including the 48 hour movie. This trip was orginally the brainstorm of reverend phil. Also on the trip with he and I were Bengt and Mandy.

we got out of town at about 11 on saturday. as soon as we got over the Cascades, the rainy mess that had been in action all day just disappeared and we were in a bright hot sunny desert.

the landscape out there is a lot like northern arizona, but maybe with a little more vegetation. lots of classic cowboy-movie-type rock formations, big buttes and mesas and cliffs and stuff. we got to Mitchell, which is where Phil went to highschool. it's a tiny town, 160 people, in the middle and on the sides of this little canyon. it's kind of charming. the main street has several businesses that are totally western-style facades, old wood, hitching posts, etc. so after we took a look at the town we went out to find a camping site. phil lead us down this long gravel and dirt road to this place called Priest Hole, mainly a place to put boats in the John Day river. it was way out in the middle of nowhere, near the Painted Hills. phil got his truck stuck in the soft sand by the river, but we pushed it out in not too long. we camped right next to the river, set up our tents then headed back into town to set up for the movie. it was about 5:30, so we didnt have much time before sunset.

it turned out we were really late getting it set up because the person that was going to bring us an extension cord never showed up. we found another one and finally got going about a half hour late, at 7:30. townsfolk kept coming and going, but mostly going, the later it got. by the time we got started there were about 4 adults and 8 kids (like pre-teens). by the time it was over, there were 0 adults (except for one guy that had drove up in his pickup and was watching through his window), and 2 of the kids. we didnt' even show the documentary because even these 2 left after the 48 hour movie was over, perhaps thinking that was it.

it was embarrassing and frustrating. I guess Betty Beige (yes, that is really her name), phil's contact in town who set this up for us, really let us down. not only did she not show up with the extension cord but she had said she would promote the screening a little around town, by putting up posters and stuff, but then never did. there was a little bit of word of mouth buzz, but mostly nobody really knew about it or didnt care. even phil's friends in town didn't show up. some he even visited beforehand and i guess they were like "well, we're eating dinner, sorry." really sad.

anyway, we packed up and headed back out to the campsite and then had fun sitting around the fire, making smores and drinking. it was pretty cold that night but i was comfortable sleeping till i woke up a little before sunset and realized my head was very chilly poking out of my sleeping bag. I got up at least an hour before everyone else, i think it was probably about 7 am, after actual sunrise, but before it had come over the hills to the east. I walked up the river aways and saw lots of birdlife: loud squawking things that i think might have been kingfishers, some pheasant, a blue heron that flew by, some ducks, and other things i couldnt identify. there was a thick mist that hung over the river. i saw the sun start marching down the sides of western hills. i went back to camp and started a fire. then i set up my camera to film myself and the rise of the sun over the hills. it was great. it was really a beautiful camping place.

immediately the air started to warm up. i made coffee with my little stove, started getting out food for breakfast. couldn't find the oatmeal i had brought. eventually bengt and phil and mandy got up. we ate donuts and bananas and granola and yogurt and coffee. for $5 we had purchased more wood than we could realistically burn. i convinced phil that we didn't have to burn it all up just for sake of using it. we left 4 or 5 big chunks there by the fire ring for someone else to use, perhaps.

we struck camp and then started tooling around the area. we went to the John Day Fossil Beds in the Painted Hills. the hills are totally beautiful. not as many colors as the Painted Desert in Arizona, mostly gold, red, and black, but they really do look like some giant swiped a few paintbrushes across the land. it was great. we hiked around a little. then phil took us back to town and showed us some sites there. the high school he went to (his graduating class was 8 people), some spots where kids go to drink and get away. etc etc.

we had a great lunch at a little cafe in town. then we headed out, making our way back toward Madras where the sunday screening would be, but taking our time, stopping at cool views and stuff. we got to Prineville, sort of halfway between Mitchell and Madras, a bigger town but still pretty small. we met Phil's friend from highschool, Tim, who works for the Prineville Fire Department. he was on duty for the next 16 hours so he couldnt go to the screening. he's a funny guy though. he reminded me of Dignan in Bottle Rocket. A lot smarter than Dignan, but visually and voicewise, and he had a similiar sort of dry, stoic way of speaking. I told Phil, who amazingly has still not seen Bottle Rocket, that he had to see it at least just so he could compare Tim to Dignan.

We moved on to Madras, and then spent an hour or so trying to find the place where the screening would be. Phil had failed to bring directions to the place, or write down the address, or a phone number, and he couldn't even remember the name of the person he had dealt with! I gradually became close to furious at how flakey and irresponsible this was. How could you arrange a showing of a movie in a city that you did not know, and not take along that kind of information? totally ridiculous. I've presented my work at cultural events from Brussels to Australia and i've never seen anything or anyone so miserably disorganized. Phil claimed it was all because he hadn't slept. I still don't know why he chose to not sleep the night before going on a big road/camping trip. and even so, he could have written down the information before starting to not sleep. I don't mean any offense to Phil, I just am describing what happened and trying to convey how amazed and frustrated I was.

Anyway, we were almost ready to give up when bengt and i flagged down a town policeman and he told us where the place was. But, no one was there yet. It was still a couple hours till the screening, but I was so frustrated by our almost-failed search, and by the night before, that I had pretty much reached my limit in this comedy of errors. I didn't feel like waiting around to see if this mystery contact in Madras would remember to show up or whether she would blow us off just like the woman in Mitchell had. I also didn't want another heartbreaking scene of seeing only a tiny handful of people show up. Bengt had already been planning to leave early, so i decided to go with him. we had a little dinner with mandy and phil and then headed out, making sure they had what they might need for the screening. just before driving off, after doublechecking 3 times that i had left the video tape with him, phil told me, for the first time EVER, that the Madras person had wanted to show the videos from a disc instead! We didn't even have all the pieces on vcd, but i dug out the one copy of the 48hour movie vcd that i had along and gave it to him.

then we were off. bengt and i made really good time and were back home by 9:00. the rains began again as soon as we came back over the mountains. amazing. western and "eastern" oregon are like 2 different planets. (i put eastern in quotes because where we were was really central oregon. but phil and a few other locals kept calling it eastern. basically the idea, i guess, is that everything past the Cascades is eastern. and yet, newspapers and other official information called the area "central". whatever.)

I hope phil and mandy got back okay. i was really glad mandy was with him because otherwise i would have been afraid for his ability to drive back that late at night with such little sleep.

To sum up, basically the whole weekend was fun except for anything that had to do with the "official" reason we were out there (showing our videos), ironically enough. i'm really glad i went, just for the camping and seeing the beautiful country, but we should have just done it for the fun of it instead of trying to get anything accomplished. pretending that any appreciable number of people out there would be interested in these wacky little movies of ours, or expecting that the logistics of screening them would go smoothly, was a lost cause. at least now i know. live an learn....

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