Christmas Craft Time

Who knew that making ornaments was so much fun? I'm guessing three bottles of wine might have had something to do with the element of fun associated with the process, but you cannot deny the power of painting like a pre-schooler either. The act of making ornaments was remarkably simple, yet messy as all hell. Mix some flour, salt and water together, knead, shape and bake. There you have it.

Of course, once they are done baking, that's when the real fun begins! Punk Rock Baby and I used stencils, stamps, brushes, all kinds of shit to paint the most ridiculous ornaments you have ever seen. Now PRB actually has some artistic talent, so hers came out looking marvelous and were very detailed. Me on the other hand, well I made a boob ornament, a piece of poo ornament and various other juvenile themed ones. I did crack and do a couple of traditional ones like a XMAS tree and a wreath, but I would say the overwhelming result was pretty wacky. I took some pictures of them hanging on the tree so you can see what I mean.

A word of caution about drinking and doing arts and crafts. Be careful. It wasn't until Rudolph was hanging on the tree that I noticed that I never gave him antlers. And PRB's Santa has no hands. Minor oversights thanks to Yellow Tail.

Dragging Ass

This weekend I was required to open at work, and as a result I've been ready to fall asleep at 6 PM everyday. Getting up at 6 AM sucks a donkey's cock and I fail to understand how people do it. Maybe it's because my body knows it the weekend and is pissed at me for getting up so friggin' early? All I know is that I can't wait to get this over with and go back to sleeping until at least 6:45 AM. Since I've going to bed around the 10 PM mark, I don't have much to write about.

I'm sad Mr. Miyagi croaked.

I could care less that Nick and Jessica are done.

I haven't seen Rent, but I'm gonna.

I did manage to set up my XMAS tree over the weekend. It's fake, so it really doesn't matter when that fucker goes up. I have some nice Elvis ornaments and silver balls on it right now, but it's looking sparse. Thankfully, I have a friend who is coming over to make ornaments with me out of salt and flower. I know, I know, this crafty shit sounds kind of fem. Let me first say that my mother would be proud of me for braving Michaels Craft Store today by myself like a real man and buying paint and ribbon (amongst other XMAS related crafty things). My Mom was a big fan of making things from scratch when she was alive and I think she would get a kick out of me sitting around making my own ornaments. Or maybe she would just question my sexuality like she did when she was alive? Anyway, I didn't feel that odd in Michaels until the cute register girl asked if I was picking up stuff for my wife and I had to say that I was there on my own, for myself. Awkward.

I'm going to wait until the ornaments are made and hung before I grace you all with a picture of my tree. (The one I'm certain you are dying to see....NOT.) I just hope that my ornament helper doesn't dis me and leave me hanging. I have directions, but I'm not sure I can go it alone. Anytime I try to do something myself I fuck it up. I could tell you about hanging towel racks in my bathrooms this weekend, but I'll spare you the details and myself the embarassing story. Let's just say they are up and sort of functional.

Well, I am on disc one of Scrubs Season 2 and it's funny. So I'm gonna finish that instead of being concerned with how my Eagles or my fantasy football team do today. I'm guessing they either both win or both lose....either way, it's not like it matters.

Turkeylicious!

My first attempt at cooking a turkey was a complete and utter success. This is despite Joolie's doubts that I could pull it off. In all honesty I don't see what the big deal is, you just defrost that bitch, oil her up and plop her in the oven and then go drink for a couple hours.

So yeah, yesterday was the big Thanksgiving holiday dinner at Eric's house. The theme of dressing like an indian or pilgrim never caught on much past Eric, Joolie and myself, but the turnout was impressive. The group assembled was a hodge podge of locals and transplants like myself. This is the first Turkey day I wasn't around my family and it felt kind of odd to tell you the truth. I'm thankful that Eric's house was so welcoming and laid back. The food was excellent and everyone really made an effort to have a good time.

Photos featuring turkeys.

Blackness

Mr. Johnny Cash is one of my few idols. I've always admired those people who are flawed but manage to still break through to the mainstream. And although I'm not religious by any stretch of the imagination, it's the side of Johnny that continually strives for redemption that I feel the most connected with. I've read books about his life, and more importantly spent many lonely nights listening to his music while coming down from a night of drinking. And in those quiet, dark hours we've formulated a wonderful friendship over the years. I've only cried three times when I've heard about the passing of a famous person, and Mr. Cash was one of those. What's ironic to me is that the two other times were when I heard about Roy Orbison dying, a man who had a similar persona to Cash but with a lot less brushes with the evils in life like drugs, and when I heard about River Phoenix overdosing outside the Viper Room when I was in college. Seeing River's baby brother Leaf, now known by Joaquin, portray the man in black and prove that he is a very capable actor only made me think about the lost potential of River even more. But that's a topic for another day, as today is Mr. Cash's day.

Walk The Line is a very cookie cutter musician bio-pic not unlike Ray or The Buddy Holly Story, how on earth do you cram a lifetime of successes and failures into 2 hours anyway? You have to resort to cliches and corny montages set to the featured artist's hits. What makes Walk The Line good in my opinion has to do with it's fine performances by Joaquin and dare I say Reese Witherspoon, an actress that is not my favorite, and of course the songs of Johnny Cash that are sprinkled in throughout the film. Both Phoenix and Witherspoon give singing their best shot, with Phoenix completely becoming Cash about mid-way through the film either through dead-on impersonation or pure embodiment of the character. Whatever it is, it's fantastic to watch. I wish the story was more limited and focused, less expansive, but I did like the interplay of Cash with Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis and Waylon Jennings. These scenes had fun with our memories of these artists, but never took the camera away from our man Mr. Cash for too long and added something more than just a standard look at Cash's troubled marriage, pursuit of June Carter and rampant drug use set to music.

On the eve of Thanksgiving, it's the time of year that we give thanks and today I am thankful that Johnny Cash picked up a guitar in Germany and decided to put his thoughts out there in the form of songs. Because when the silence fills the room and I feel like I'm the only one feeling like crap, I can always turn him on and turn him up and let a friend talk me down.

Rubber Johnny

Gnarly!

Stick with this all the way through, it's crazy...

Older, Not Exactly Wiser

Fully digesting my new age of 34, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that I feel just as lost as I was when I was 20. I have all these feelings for what seems like the wrong person. I'm in a constant state of not being good enough, and I feel like I should be more or less beyond this nonsense at my age. Over the last few months I've talked about the "get what you give concept" and how I don't quite understand why it doesn't work for me. I perhaps convinced myself, stupidly enough, that somehow I would have this revelation as to why it's not working, but I can safely say now that getting another year older didn't help me come any closer to grasping just why my life usually sucks.

Now I do realize that there is more to life than just finding the right person and falling love. There's TV afterall. The place that feeds the beast and falsely gives me such a sense of hope. And music to sum up all the evil thoughts about love in songs that I was always too lazy to write. And books, art, film...many distractions that have a way of always giving me that faint glimmer of hope. All help me stay the course and keep at it.

Maybe I thought I would wake up this morning and have some idea, some eureka! moment...but I didn't. I got up and drug myself to work and busted my hump devoid of any thought about my situation. Until I get home to the empty apartment and wish that she was here. But she's far from here, she's off somewhere not even concerned with who I am or what I can offer or how I can love her.

I'm tired. I'm old. I'm confused.

Well, this shit is kind of depressing. I had a really amazing weekend and it was one of my better birthdays ever, so how come I'm feeling like crap all of a sudden? God, I wish I fucking knew. The human mind is fascinating...and women, well, just look at the power they yield over a man. It's crazy I tell you. Just plumb crazy.

Eh, tomorrow is another day.

Birthday Booty

$50 for ITunes
$300 for a Delta flight home sometime in 2006
A cool book of art
A very special card
Devil's Rejects on DVD
Bottle of vodka
Tasty Kakes
$50 Shutterfly Gift Certificate

I'm a lucky guy.

Birthday Celebration - Stage 2

No strippers. It's funny how shit works out sometimes. The plan was going to be just a small collective of folks and a visit to one of the local nudie bars. Instead I went out around dinner time and gathered supplies to make jello shots with my newly acquired bottle of vodka (a present from my boss). A couple of friends came over around 8 to help me make the many varieties of shots and begin drinking. Joolie shows up around 11 PM due to issues at work and is solo, meaning no Eric, which is very odd. Not to mention the fact that she is wearing a wig, adding to the oddness. Apparently Eric was at the Firehouse and we need to go there first before we head over to see boobies.

Well, Eric had assembled a hodge podge of people that I've been hanging with to converge at the Firehouse to wish me some birthday greetings. In fact they even made me a cake, decorated it and provided the bar with some Yuengling Lager for this very special affair. Having a bar full of people sing Happy Birthday to me was quite a sight. Needless to say, we never left the Firehouse until we were forced out at closing time. This was the point when I decided that those Jello Shots needed to be eaten and invited a shit load of folks back to my crib for late night hijinx. I think at one point I had about 15 people on my balcony that holds 3 comfortably.

Bottom line is that I had a good old time. There were some low lights that I prefer not the mention, but overall I was happy that the people I've met here were incredibly cool. It's one of my fonder birthdays, something I never anticipated. And that's great. Happy Birthday to me.

Birthday Celebration - Stage 1

Well, all attempts to take it easy last night fell to the way side around the lemon drop shot. But the way I look at it, I'm going to be in complete lock down with work the next 5 weeks, so I'm going out with a bang this weekend. Last night was complete fun. Drink, drink, drink, all at the expense of my lovely co-workers and boss. Sing a little karaoke (Next Year by Foo Fighters was my selection last night.), marvel at my old boss' ability to sing a pretty dead on version of Song Of A Preacher Man, meet up with a fellow birthday celebrator, roll to Soul Bar with 4 babes and own the dance floor. It was all a blur, but I can remember having a blast. So the hangover is worth it today.

Tonight, I'm doing it all again...

Freeze

It's fucking frigid here tonight. WTF? I thought Georgia was warm all year round? That's what the brochure said.

Anyway, today they kind of celebrated my birthday at work. Well, at least my team and some other folks bought me some gifts and made me feel all special and shit. I got $30 in ITunes from my squad. Big ups! My old boss got me some Pop Tarts since I eat them EVERYDAY at work. So much so that people think that is all I do eat. And my co-worker and current boss got me a Braves shirt that everyone signed with some Deep South saying to "welcome me" here. It was really quite a display unveiling that puppy, so much so that I was actually a tad embarassed at the attention. It was nice to feel like I belong a little, or that people like me enough to contribute...because honestly I think that people think I'm a prick. Maybe they do, but just not today?

Tonight the work celebration presses on across the street at my local karaoke bar Greene Streets. I picked the locale since it's so fucking close to my crib, and I'm sure no one complained because secretly they want to see me sing. (The word is out that I'm a ringer...) So I'm frantically downing a Red Bull Light to get pumped up and will be heading over as soon as I post this. I have no idea who is planning on coming out to join in the fun, but I'm ready to socialize a little with the 'adults' for once.

However, I'm still anxious about doing the debauchery thing tomorrow night. So as such, I plan on watching my drinking tonight. No shots. No going over board. No beer mixing. I'm determined to see some boobs tomorrow night in the proximity of Joolie. Going to strip bars with chicks is fun. Especially when they ain't your girlfriend.

And by the way, I got a haircut last night in anticipation of Thanksgiving which was a big hit at work today. I'm going as a modern day Indian to the Pilgrim and Indian Ball at Eric's house next week and decided to get-r-done as they say here. Check out Joolie's (and Eric's) crafty work...

Pep Rally

So, there is this girl that I've liked for so long that lives pretty far away from me and she just became single. Ouch. This is that scenario I dreamt about for many nights when I was back in Philly. The fact that she had a boyfriend always kept her in the unattainable, but completely desirable zone. And now, now that I'm getting settled into my new life in the G to the A, this chick finally becomes available. Just my luck.

I swear. Things never work out the way they should. But then again, if I wear her down enough maybe she'll move here?

My Name Is Earl

I keep waiting for this show to hit the wall, get tired or played out but it ain't happening. I can't remember the last time I lauged out loud a sitcom. Well, that's not entirely true since I recently watched Arrested Development Season 2 on DVD and laughed a bunch. But you get the gist.

The end scene of just wedding dancing had me in tears.

Tuesday Off, Mindless Entertainment

Not sure how long this has been bouncing around outside my radar, but Lost fans will appreciate it. Lost Rhapsody

Jesus Is Magic is the Sarah Silverman film that I can bet I'll have to wait for DVD to see. This write up about it makes me wanna move immediately to a town with interesting cinematic options.

Arrested Development is dead (again). Sniff, sniff. While Jason Bateman was out taking care of his throat junk, Fox pulled the plug on going past 13 episodes for this season. I can only dream of how great this show would have been on HBO.

Postal Service Gold Record up on EBAY. The item description tells a very funny story.

If you ever get bored, and like the visual arts, I suggest spending an hour going through the last 7 days worth of cool photos up on Flckr.com.

Well, I'm going to spend some more time with Nano Pod. We went shopping today, both grocery and Xmas related. But now we need coffee. Well, I do...Nano is fine. We are an amazing team. Just in case you were wondering.

It's A Motherfucker

My beloved Eagles lost in horrible fashion to America's team, the Cowboys on national TV tonight. I'd say their chances of making the playoffs are slim to none. Fuck T.O. Fuck that McNabb hernia. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Here It Comes

It's almost time for my birthday. Yuck. I really despise getting old. I'm hoping that the strippers make it all go down easier this year. That's right, I said strippers. Seems like some punk show in Columbia, SC is going to empty the streets of Augusta this weekend and leave Joolie, Eric, Punk Rock Baby and I to our own evil devices. The idea was tossed around of going to a strip club, and I'm not going to argue with that. Who would?

Norm!

I just spent the past two nights drinking my face off in the Firehouse, a local tavern with mad personality and I'm starting to consider myself a potential regular there. I'm not sure if I'm happy about that or not. It's nice to go somewhere that is welcoming, and the people there for the most part have been very cool and very social. The owner, Josh, was wearing his newly acquired Poison Scooter shirt last night making me feel all proud papa inside. I essentially boycotted 80's night based on prior experiences, and the Firehouse was a nice alternative. But, I don't want to be the guy who goes to the same bar every night and make it get old really quick.

However, last night I had some more time to spend getting to know Eric, this fellow transplant from PA who is currently smitten with the gal pal Joolie. With Joolie pulling the 2 AM shift this weekend, and me off, it was a perfect opportunity for Eric and I to get more familiar with each other. Hard as I try, I'm realizing that I cannot find anything wrong with this guy. And that's really amazing considering just how tough a critic I am. What came out of last night's discussion was an invite to a Thanksgiving event that will blow away all prior Thanksgivings at his house. You are required to dress as either a pilgrim or Indian, which is fucking awesome. I'm leaning toward Indian heavily, and plan on perhaps busting out the faux hawk again in honor of my Indian ancestors. Maybe it will rally the fucking Eagles in the process, because they sure need it. Anyway, being asked to join in on the holiday event, to the point that I'm making the turkey, is really a feeling that I cannot describe. I have been trying so hard to make things work here in Georgia, it's nice to see that there is some payoff. So I'm upbeat today, even though I have butt mud (again) from drinking Pabsts and stink like smoke.

Time to strap on the Nano Pod, grab the camera and head out to find an art exhibit that I was barely invited to. There's nothing like crashing an art exhibit with liquid diarrhea on a beautiful Saturday afternoon...

What I like.

Here's some things that make my life better.

1. James Spader. I've always had a hard on for this guy going back to my teenage years. I'm not a Pretty in Pink fan, I'm more of a Some Kind of Wonderful guy, but Spader's performance oozed the right amount of skankiness that I was like "who is that guy and why do I want to be him?" Seeing him on Boston Legal each week makes me fucking giddy. He is so over the top and all puffy now, but I still just think he is the man.

2. Fountains of Wayne songs. Why aren't these guys more famous? They write the catchiest songs EVER.

3. Getting a new Razor phone. As mentioned on a recent post, Brother Dan dumped the old Razor into some Chablis and fried it on me. I quickly purchased insurance on the thing and waited a week to file a claim. The new Razor came today in the mail and man it feels good to have her back in my life. I'm such a techno junkie whore....it's sad really.

4. Heineken. Last night Joolie came over with a 12 pack of the little green devil and my taste buds were rewarded after a long, rough week at the office. Nothing beats good conversation over a couple Heinies.

5.Survivor moments. Last night the tribe was all ready cast off Gary Hogeboom (ex-NFL QB), who is becoming my favorite player this season, and he stood up and whiped out the immunity idol that was hidden in the jungle. Hot! Everyone was shell shocked and had to scramble to vote someone else off in a matter of moments without discussing it.

Totally Tubular!

This could be interesting...

Mix Tape, Sort of...

A couple of weeks ago I got a mix CD constructed by my friend Rob that I have yet to remove from my car's CD player. Rob took the bold step of relocating to San Fran about 10 years ago, and knows full well how this type of move can make you very nostalgic for all the things you inevitably miss. Rob and I have kept in touch many years beyond what anyone probably would have expected, and have always managed to keep a nice dialogue going about music, TV and movies. In our heyday, we were the Siskel and Ebert of the bike courier, pot smoking and Milwakuee's Best swilling crowd we conspired with. What's kind of nifty about this mix CD is that Rob and I have rarely ever seen eye to eye on music. We both have eclectic tastes, but Rob usually takes its one step further. Sure, we both admire Rufus Wainwright and God Speed You Black Emporer, but for the most part we are miles apart musically. So the fact that I cannot stop listening to this CD fascinates me.

The feeling of getting a mix CD is always kind of nice. Knowing that someone took the time to construct something with you in mind is validating, at least for me. I find myself sometimes so deep in thought about our common experiences in college, or just about what I'm experiencing now while I'm listening that sometimes I forget to make the right turn I meant to make to get where I'm going. Behold the power of music! Anyhow...

Rob took the time expose me to some music I wouldn't have otherwise heard or sought out, especially since my life is void of XPN or any sort of interesting radio station here in Augusta. So I figure the least I could do is try to describe what these bands or songs sound like and share what I can with you all.

Track 1 - City Of Brother Love by Cass McCombs
This song obviously plays on the commonality of our former lives in Philadelphia. This guy has a very Robyn Hitchcock-esque quality that reminds me of 120 Minutes on MTV in the late 80's.

Track 2 - The Bones of an Idol by The New Pornographers
I was vaguely familiar with this band's work on Mass Romantic, but I wouldn't say I was all that impressed. I guess Neko Case vocalizing makes all the difference. Again, a very heavy 80's vibe permeates throughout this track and that makes me giggle.

Track 3 - UFO Sighting by Sufjan Stevens
Sufjan is the man. Very simple, very pretty.

Track 4 - Boundary Radar by The Go-Betweens
Ah, the real 80's nugget. Although this is a song from a very recent record, the Go-Betweens are Australian Indie at it's finest. A nerdy Love and Rockets as I call them.

Track 5 - You Say You Lie by The Ravonettes
Another band I heard tons about, but never really was interested. This song is perfect for driving.

Track 6 - Dead In Love by Desert Sessions
Holy fuck! How did I never hear about this shit. Josh Homme (Queen of the Stone Age frontman) put together this side project that features multiple volumes and a revolving cast of rockers like Eleven's singer who features on this track with Homme. I kept thinking to myself this sounds like QOTSA, so much so I had to look this shit up on the internet.

Track 7 - Gates of Steel by Devo
Ha. Devo is great.

Track 8 - The Bronze by Queens of the Stone Age
Ah, these guys always put a smile on my face.

Track 9 - Crowned in Chrome by Crooked Fingers
Another surprise...I was never a fan of Archers of Loaf and this solo work by their lead singer is not as bad as I would have imagined.

Track 10 - Held by (Smog)
They can't all be gems. This track kind of blows.

Track 11 - For One Moment by Lee Hazlewood
This song is from yesteryear and I like to consider it the best hangover song ever.

Track 12 - Find Me, Rueben Olivares by Mark Kozelek
The Red House Painters reminds me of a girl I once knew. And this song by the lead singer from one of his solo albums now reminds me of her.

Track 13 -I Summon You by Spoon
Everyone talks about Spoon being the next big thing...I once told a Spoon fan that if I haven't heard of them by now (they've been around forever) then they ain't worth knowing. I was way wrong.

Track 14 - California by Low
Slow, harmonic, rhythmic....this is Low.

Track 15 - When The Day Is Short by Martha Wainwright
She ain't no Rufus, but then again she ain't no Loudon.

Track 16 - Lightbulb by Call and Response
This track is bouncy and so fun. America's answer to Stereolab!

Track 17 - all you need is hate by the Delgados
This Scottish band is equal parts Flaming Lips, Wilco and to a lesser extent Ween. And it works. I love songs with Timpani prominently featured.

Track 18 - On The Table by AC Newman
The dude from the New Pornographers is annoying looking, and as such I've avoided his solo work like the plague. But it's good. At least this track is anyway.

Track 19 - Huddle Formation by The Go! Team
Hipster stuff from England. A mash up of cheerleading chants, hip hop beats and a little dance music sprinkled in makes me want to dance. Or cheer. Whatever. Me likey.

Track 20 - Hit The City by Mark Lanegan Band
Love this man. Heroin habit and all.

Track 21 - A Touch Sensitive by Super Furry Animals
Never imagined that this is how this band would sound. It's kind of DJ Shadow-ish. Hypnotic instrumental.

Track 22 - Winners by Desert Sessions
The joke track by Josh Homme's side project. Some announcer reads off "winners" names from your high school yearbook. Rob knows I love sarcasm.

Track 23 - Southern Girls by Cheap Trick
Not the strongest Cheap Trick track, but the Southern sentiment is not lost on me.

There you have it. A musical journey. Thanks Rob.

You and Me and Everyone We Know

This is a little IFC gem that I heard about when it was in limited release back 6 or so months ago. It plays like a Todd Solondz movie but with the feminine touch of it's lead actress, writer and director Miranda July. Critically lauded, but not seen by many this is a piece of art about the human desire to connect with some very discomforting scenes interspliced to add a very dramatic sense of realness. The creepy shoe salesman who thinks he wants to coax some neighborhood teenage girls into a threesome, a 7 year old engaging in ass play themed instant messaging with a woman in her late 30's and the freakishly mature 10 year old girl who is collecting items (like a hand mixer or new shower curtain) for her dowdry and saving them in a hope chest are the roadside attractions on this journey about Richard and Christine's road to love.


I wouldn't call this a romantic comedy, although the overall theme is romantic and there are some laughs, albeit somewhat uncomfortable ones, along the way. It's more of an exploration of how desperate we get when we hit a point in our life when we feel incomplete because we cannot find out soul mate. Christine is fiercely brave in her approach towards making Richard notice her, and relentlessly pursues him because he is the one. I admired her vunerability while alone and her reckless behavior while around Richard, and completely sympathized with the emotional roller coaster it is to just have this crazy, overwhelming "feeling" about someone despite the fact that as Richard says in one memorable scene, they could be a "killer of small children."

Above and beyond the enjoyment I had watching the movie continually take it up to another level from scene to scene, I became completely mesmerized by Miranda July. Very unconventionally cute, like 1 part Rachel Griffiths and 1 part this girl I knew in college that none of you fucking know. Ha.

That's How I Feel!

It's odd where I find symbolism these days. I'll be watching a TV show or listening to a song I've heard a million times and at that very moment something connects. It's fucked to find comfort in a Papa Roach song, but so be it.

Not Fair

I always had a bad impression of what a county or state fair was like. I imagined gross people, odd smells, sad looking animals, tractors and carnival rides. Having now attended my first fair, I'm pleased to report I was exactly fucking right. The fair is in town and I figured I should at least make an effort to broaden my horizons. So I got up today and decided to head to the fair. Now, admittedly the fair is probably an experience you need to have with someone or someones, so going alone was not my smartest move. I wasn't too excited for it, so I didn't want to drag anyone else into the fold and have to spend more time than I wanted to. But yeah, sad seal lions sleeping, smelly cows, funnel cake, it was as crappy as you think it's going to be. I snapped a few pictures, but nothing I'm very happy with. I was hoping it would have been more country I guess. It all seemed rather pathetic and therefore didn't stimulate my eye.

Jarhead

It's been a long time, relatively speaking, since I went to the movies. So long in fact that I can't recall what movie it was I saw? Today, my one day off in a run of working 10 of 11 days, I decided to unwind and go see something. Since my desire to see movies has subsided lately, mostly due to the fact that everything that comes out looks like shit, I didn't really care what movie I saw. I liked American Beauty a lot, but didn't care for Road to Perdition, so it's not like I'm a Sam Mendes fan. Considering that he is married to Kate Winslet, who I adore, that's almost reason enough for me to boycott his latest directorial offering Jarhead.

However, I liked the idea of a movie that focuses on the first Gulf War now that we have some perspective on it and one that doesn't play out like Three Kings (a great movie, but a little on the Oceans 11 tip) hopefully. Jake Gyllenhaal is an actor that I like but can't seem to figure out why. It's not like his resume is uber impressive, and he is on again/off again banging one of my potential wives in Kirsten Dunst which makes me hate him a little bit, but he has such a great way of playing these understated thinkers. The Good Girl, Donnie Darko, even his role in The Day After Tomorrow were all slightly off center, deep guys and he emotes a lot of things through his facial expressions. Jarhead offers him an opportunity to once again strut out the pouty faces and the quiet, tortured guy routine to it's desired effect. And it works.

What really separates this movie from other war movies is the lack of any real war taking place. The movie is about the boredom of waiting for an actual ground war that never happens. If you recall from our first foray into Iraq, we basically blew them up from the air for a couple days and it was all over. The guys who were trained to kill never got a shot and basically jerked off and waited for a Dear John letter to show up from their girlfriend or wife back home while roasting in the desert, or at least that is what Anthony Swofford, author and veteran, wants you to think took place. It's a tad difficult to have a movie come out about the Gulf War while 2000 kids have died in Iraq during the most recent war and not have it make you think about the situation we are in. But the movie isn't set up to make you sympathize with any one except the Jarheads, the Marines who are there to fight for our country whether they want to or not. This is an exploration of men, not a dissection of the war and for that reason I liked it. The soundtrack and score add some drama and intensity that the war never gets a chance to, and the visuals of the vastness of the desert are stunning.

Full Metal Jacket is the closest comparison I could make for this flick. The basic training sequence plays out quicker in this film, and there is less blood shed (obviously), but the tone is very similar. Examining the psyche of a 20 year old who willingly joins the Corps is risky, especially when the back drop is a war that wasn't really a war and is an afterthought at this point, but Mendes and company do a nice job.

Ah, thankfully nothing too damaging...

The snapshots tell a story.

Wall of Sound

Let me preface this by saying that drinking on an empty stomach is not a wise decision. Last night was Jucifer at the Soulbar. If you don't know who Jucifer is, don't feel bad. I had no clue either. They are apparently a husband and wife duo that plays REALLY loud "music" and look extremely wacky while doing it. It not metal-exactly, more like art rock I suppose. But it's insanely fucking loud, to the point that I can't recall any real melody just a constant hum of the wall of amps that they use for one guitar, that SHE plays by the way. It's like White Stripes in reverse, but with the volume turned way up and the vocals turned way down. I saw her mouth moving, but I can honestly say I didn't hear a voice. Again, that hum was overwhelming. I guess standing 6 inches from the stage wasn't the best location, but what can I say....

Anyway, I did some hearty pre-gaming at the Firehouse before the midnight show and that Jager shot was probably the straw the broke the camel's back. Once the band played, the rest of the night became an incredible blur. I vaguely recall walking to bars at the other end of town, taking pictures like a Japanese tourist and getting a ride home at some point. I even watched Survivor at 3 AM and can't recall one frame of the episode. Getting up for work at 9 AM was awesome.

Back to the pictures thing, I took out the camera last night and I have 102 snap shots in the process of uploading to my computer as I type this. Huh? 102? I can't wait to piece the night together. Ha.

Square One

MP3 collection firmly restored has allowed me to reconnect with Coldplay's latest album X&Y. These guys write extremely melodic, catchy tunes that I find myself never tiring from hearing. Aside from that, the lyrics on this disc are quite comforting to me these days. In particular the tune Square One that is the opening track is one that I turn to as a way of summing up a lot of my feelings throughout a day like today.

You're in control, is there anywhere you wanna go?
You're in control, is there anything you wanna know?
The future's for discovering
The space in which we're travelling
From the top of the first page
To the end of the last day
From the start in your own way
You just want somebody listening to what you say
It doesn't matter who you are
It doesn't matter who you are

Under the surface trying to break through
Deciphering the codes in you
I need a compass, draw me a map
I'm on the top, I can't get back

Whoa whoa

The first line on the first page
To the end of the last page
From the start in your own way
You just want somebody listening to what you say
It doesn't matter who you are
It doesn't matter who you are

You just want
Somebody listening to what you say
Oh, you just want somebody listening to what you say
It doesn't matter who you are
It doesn't matter who you are

Is there anybody out there who
Is lost and hurt and lonely too
Are they bleeding all your colours into one?
and if you come undone
As if you've been run through
Some catapult it fired you
You wonder if your chance will ever come
Or if you're stuck in square one

I don't want to go on and on about this, but I'll just say that songs that can verbalize, er vocalize the thoughts that bounce around my head make me feel less like a freak from outer space and more like everyone else.

Kinda Bummerish, And Other Junk

After a rather tiring day at work I am currently sitting here sipping Kiwi Strawberry Crystal Light from a wine glass and contemplating why on earth I cannot seem to win a fantasy football match up. I just read the news about Jason Bateman having throat surgery and it reminded me that I need to get Joolie to mail back discs 2 and 3 from season 2 of Arrested Development so I can get a Netflix rental up in here. I'm in a stretch of working 7 out of 8 days and will hopefully use the time wisely to get myself prepared for the impending holidays. Speaking of which I'm not "off" again until after XMAS and that prospect seems kind of frightening, if for no other reason than I fear I may burn out or have heart failure.

In other disappointing news, I am now realizing that my upcoming birthday is on par to be the lamest ever. Let me explain. There are only a handful of people that I would call my inner circle here in the GA and 2 of them are heading up North on my birthday I guess to get an early start on Thanksgiving. Lame. Thankfully Joolie is only working until 9 PM that day, so at the very least I will have her to help me drown my sorrows as I get another year closer to death. Not that I am unhappy about having Joolie there, I just wish there was going to be more fanfare surrounding the blessed event.

In lighter news, I failed to mention that after much despair I now have recovered my beloved MP3 collection thanks to Brother Mike who sent down an external hard drive loaded with songs this past weekend. I'm back up to 5000 in ITunes and it's such a comfort to have more than the same 10 choices. Sufjan Stevens, I missed you.