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SATURDAY, MAY 10TH, 2003

Last Friday, I went to see famed stand-up comedian and "prop comic" Gallagher perform live in Ames. He smashed shit and I laughed. Oh, and some other stuff happened. Like...

1) I GOT MY PICTURE TAKEN WITH GALLAGHER! This is truth! I hope to scan the photo in soon and put it all over the Internet. It'll be the first thing you see when you go to Google.

2) I TALKED TO GALLAGHER! We talked about his old videos, which I owned. Then, he said he'd let me buy his new videos for half-off because I was a "collector." I readily accepted the offer and I'm now the proud owner of his most recent video "Sledgeomatic.Com."

3) I GOT TO BE ONSTAGE WITH GALLAGHER! By lying that it was my birthday, I was allowed to go onstage. I smashed a watermelon with a mallet! At a Gallagher show! A dream come true! However, out of the 20 people who got to smash things onstage, I was the only person who got boo-ed by the unsympathetic audience. Apparently, I only smashed one-third of the watermelon and the rest fell to the floor. I will not allow this to taint my memory though.

Still, you soooo wish you were me right now.

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THURSDAY, MAY 1ST, 2003

Last Friday, Chris Stangl performed his last regular IC No Shame piece. The only thing left is "Best of No Shame" on Friday, May 9th.

For the show, I wrote a piece for him and I. It was a "send-off" of sorts. In retrospect, I don't like it very much. It was really vague and unfocused. And sort of bitter. It shouldn't have been bitter.

Originally, I had another idea, but I discarded it. I wish I had done that instead. It was about me trying to get Chris to perform a dangerous stunt (like dangling from the catwalk or something), so I could have a really cool No Shame piece. I would, in turn, compare this to the infamous John Landis/"Twilight Zone: The Movie" accident. This, of course, was when director John Landis threw caution to the wind during a spectacular climax - in an effort to top his fellow filmmaker (and semi-competitor) Steven Spielberg. In the end, three people were killed. So, basically... I'd be making the point that... Chris Stangl is the incredibly talented Steven Spielberg and I am John Landis, the artist who will never be as talented - but will hurt others (i.e. Chris) while trying.

And if that wasn't enough threads, I'd add another one dealing with this idea that Chris is my "father" and I am his "son." After all, for most of the time that I've known Chris, I've had the same sense of respect, awe, and bewilderment as I've had with my parents. So, by having Chris perform a dangerous stunt, I am actually trying to kill him. Sons kill their fathers. Sons become men in their absence. All that jazz.

Then I'd wrap it up talking about how Spielbergs will always rise above Landis's and how fathers must always leave their sons. That's how it goes.

Instead, I did something I'm only fairly proud of. Who knows? Maybe that other piece would have sucked, too.

The thing is... whenever I wrote or performed a piece at No Shame in the past, I always wanted it to impress Chris (among others) - because I really respected him and looked up to him. I suppose I wanted this piece, which was dedicated to him, to be better.

Ugh. It never feels good when you feel like you've disappointed your parents.

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THURSDAY, APRIL 17TH, 2003

My birthday was last Saturday. I went to Godfather's with friends (acting as if I was turning 9 years old - as opposed to 22). Then, we went to "Anger Management" and after that, did some karaoke. But the party didn't stop there, Jackson!

Afterwards, we watched a video called "Splatter Farm," which my friend Aprille gave to me as an awesome birthday present. In case you didn't know, "Splatter Farm" is a 1987 horror movie made by two ugly-ass twins with a home-video camera. It's amazing.

So far, my age of 22 has been a melancholy one.

But I have 360 more days to make it better.

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THURSDAY, APRIL 3RD, 2003

Last Saturday, "My Business Failed in Three Weeks" (http://listen.to/mbf3w) played a show at The Reverb in Cedar Falls, Iowa. It was a lot of fun. Since hardly anyone there had ever seen us peform before, our "schtick" was new to them and therefore, welcomed with open arms. Sometimes I think Iowa City has seen our routine too much and has grown tired of us. But whenever we play a new town, audiences seem to have a lot of fun. The show was a blast for us, too.

We also met some cool folks at the show. If any of you have happened to stumble upon my webpage (thru the band's website and its' link to here), you should sign my guestbook (there's a link to it on the homepage). Drop a line and say hello. Yes.

Today is opening night for the University of Iowa's "Ten Minute Play Festival." My short play "Thick" is included in it. It stars Aprille Clarke, Kehry Lane, and Chris Stangl and is directed by Spencer Griffin. Here are the details:

TEN-MINUTE PLAY FESTIVAL

THURSDAY THE 3RD thru SATURDAY THE 5TH - 8PM

SUNDAY THE 6TH - 3PM

UI THEATRE BUILDING - THEATRE B

$3/$5

My play is about two guys hanging out for the first time outside the office. And other things as well.

You should come.

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TUESDAY, MARCH 25TH, 2003

So, everybody's got that one TV show they swear they saw as children, but for some reason can't remember anymore, right? Of course, they do. You do, too. You're thinking of it right now.

Well, a year ago, my friend John finally figured out what his "forgotten show" was. It was a PBS children's program where a character would say, "Azza bajact" or something like that. I myself have forgotten the title, but I'm sure John hasn't. When he discovered it a year ago, he vowed to never let it escape his mind again.

As for me, when John had his epiphany, I envied him greatly. After all, I was still haunted by my "forgotten TV show." Let me describe it briefly (in the vague details that have been torturing me for years): some boy (who's kind of a nerd) rides an exercise bike in his garage while wearing a special glove and sunglasses and then travels through time. And oh yeah... it was on Iowa Public Television in the mid-80's.

That's it. Those are the details I had to work with. And Lord knows I tried to use them in my neverending search to crack the case. Many hours have been wasted with Internet research. But not much can be gained on Google with search terms such as "80's PBS" or "special glove" or "nerd on exercise bike." Well, ladies and gentlemen, I'm happy to report...

I KNOW MY "FORGOTTEN SHOW!"

Recently, my friend John emailed me and informed me of its' title. I think John did it out of sympathy for me. After all, he too once shared my plight. For this, I am forever in his debt. But enough about that. Here's the news you've all been waiting for...

The show is called "STORYLORDS!!!!" (emphasis added).

Needless to say, once I was given the title, I quickly found information about it on the Internet. For your pleasure, here's a URL to read about it(http://explore.ecb.org/ecbschema/plsql/IDEA3D?THE_NOLA1=2STL).

Visit it. Share my joy. It's got a video clip for God's sakes.

Oh, and if you remember this show, drop me a line in my guestbook. Perhaps this show tortured you, too. And perhaps... I have brought you peace.

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SUNDAY, MARCH 23RD, 2003

Have you heard the new Christina Aguilera song "Beautiful?" It's amazing. Just amazing. And I'm being completely earnest here. The song's awesome.

And if you have the chance, check out the music video for it as well. It, too, is... yes, amazing.

The last time a Top 40 pop song moved me this much was "Man in the Mirror." And that's saying a lot. A lot.

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MONDAY, MARCH 17TH, 2003

Right now, I'm making plans for the summer. I suppose these things have to be done in advance.

One thing I want to do is get an internship in San Francisco. This is so I can kill two "animals" with one "immense rock." These two "animals" are: one) get valuable job experience in a field I'm interested in while receiving college credit and two) get to spend a month with my cool sister Amy. I need to find this internship soon. And fast! And soon.

My other plan for this summer is to make another movie. "America's Funniest American" was a fun experience and I'd like to do it again (with a different movie, of course). Plus, there's some stuff I'd like to improve on and I'd like to challenge myself to do that with a second movie.

Currently, I got a basic idea for a script. It'll be about mowing lawns, I think. Coming up with the script in my head has been interesting. You come up with ideas and then try to find some narrative connection or thematic similarity to them. And it's this constant shift betweeen trying to find the "meaning" behind ideas that pop in your head or trying to develop ideas to represent some "meaning."

It's all very complicated. You couldn't begin to understand. I am a tortured and misunderstood young man. I want to make the next "Galaxy Quest."

I hope to have it written by late May and begin shooting in June. Things have a way of changing though, so we'll see.

That last sentence was the deepest thought I've ever uttered.

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TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 25TH, 2003

Tonight is the last performance of "The Garveys," a full-length play I wrote. It's directed by Spencer Griffin and stars Chris Stangl, Aprille Clarke, Emily Happe, and William Callahan. It's being put on at Public Space One, a semi-new forum in Iowa City.

I was present at most of the rehearsals (all, but 3, I believe) and the entire process was an extremely gratifying experience. The director and the cast are very talented and above all, smart. When you're working with intelligent people, doing a creative project is so much more satisfying. People's choices are interesting and you can bang around ideas and you can be challenged by each other. There's no moments when people have to explain themselves or their ideas. It's all free form and everything moves at an exhilirating speed. It's awesome.

Of course, like all good things ending... I'm sad to see "The Garveys" end. Fortunately, I'll get to continue working with those involved in other projects.

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SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 8TH, 2003

It's 3am. I just got back from No Shame/Village Inn. I was happy with how my piece went tonight. It's funny. Since my piece went well, I was able to come back home, feeling happy. If it had gone poorly, I probably would have been a little more "down in the dumps" (awwwwww). This is nothing new though. It's been like that since I started doing No Shame (or any type of performing, I suppose).

I don't know. Sometimes I worry that my satisfaction with things is too dictated by my work. In high school, my fulfillment was often hinged on getting good grades and whatnot. And now, in college, it happens with my creative work (and grades, too, of course).

It's like with this webpage. I define myself by what I'm doing - what things I've written or played, what I've got on the Internet. "What I do" is sort of "who I am." Is that bad? Is there another way of defining "who you are?" I don't know.

It's just that... there's a part of me that wishes instead of getting fulfillment from a No Shame piece or whatever, I was getting satisfaction from more direct human interaction. It's been awhile since I've shared something great with a person. I want that, I suppose.

And the fact that I'm writing this on a webpage instead of communicating with an individual is probably the most pathetic part of it all.

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MONDAY, JANUARY 27TH, 2003

I'm back at school for "SPRING SEMESTER 2003!" This semester is going to be action-packed and promises to blow all the other semesters away! Monster trucks! Fire-breathing tigers! Spaceships... that rap!

It's been a week and so far, all my classes are neat. They cover my interests and I don't dread going to any of them. In case you're wondering, they are: "Intermedia I," "Fiction Writing," "Communication and Contemporary Culture," "Voice for the Actor," and an "Undergraduate Seminar" on 1930's American Cinema.

Oh, did I mention this before? I wrote a play called "The Garveys." Last week, it began rehearsing. It opens at Public Space One on Sunday, February 23rd. That's less than a month. I am confident, however, that the talent involved will insure its' goodness. For instance, the cast is awesome: Chris Stangl, Aprille Clarke, William Callahan, and Emily Happe. There's also the smart and gifted director Spencer Griffin and the sharp and reliable stage manager Chris LaVoie.

I'm planning on attending most of the rehearsals, giving my two cents, all of that. I'm really looking forward to seeing how it turns out.

In other news... yesterday, I acted in a scene for my friend Dave Fishel's Honors Thesis film project. It involved one long-take shot of me eating a bowl of cereal. We did six takes, which meant that I had six bowls of "Total" cereal. I'm fine with doing it, but man alive... I've been pooping like crazy.

Of course, it's good to be regular and all that, but the thing is... I was pretty regular before eating six bowls of Total. In fact, maybe too regular. I poop like four or five times a day as it is. Is that too often? I worry sometimes. I'll eat a meal and 20 minutes after the last bite, I'm "taking care of business" (or "shitting" as you may call it). I'm sure it's healthy, but it makes me constantly hungry. Eat, poop, eat, poop. Nothing stays in my tummy. Nothing!

If you care to read more about my poop, check out my latest book "101 Vampire Jokes." It's SPOOK-tacular!

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WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 15TH, 2003

My oldest sister Amy headed back to California today - after three weeks here in LeMars. It was really great seeing her. And for the last couple days that she was here, her boyfriend Scott was along, too. He goes to school with her at Berkeley.

Scott's done some pretty awesome things. Have you ever seen the classic movie "Munchie?" It's a Roger Corman family film. Well, Scott was in it. That's right. In it!

And although he's not acting now, he appeared in an array of excellent television shows in the past. "Married with Children?" Yes. "Caroline in the City?" Uh-huh. "Step by Step?" Goddamn right.

I also recently found out that he auditioned to play the son... in a Gallagher sitcom! Gallagher, people! Gallagher! Why this sitcom's pilot was never picked up by the networks is an atrocity I will never understand.

Of course, I'm sure this all sounds like sarcastic enthusiasm... and I suppose, to my some extent, it is, but that's only because Scott is willing to joke about it himself. He honestly is a really cool guy. I'm happy for my big sister. She deserves it.

I, on the other hand, am lonely and heartbroken. Ha-ha. Jokes. Just jokes. Yes. Jokes.

Right now, I'm writing my submission for the University of Iowa's 10-Minute Play Festival. I came up with an idea. Let's see if it works.

Let's see indeed! (cue magical music as I ride a rainbow into the sky)

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FRIDAY, JANUARY 10TH, 2003

I'm still home in LeMars for Christmas break. I've been keeping myself incredibly busy by hanging out with friends and sleeping in late. I wanted to do "creative things," but I've sort of been lazy and unmotivated. Yes.

Not totally though. I've done some creative things. "My Business Failed in Three Weeks" got together a few times and hashed out some new material. 2 complete songs and 1 semi-complete. We hope to introduce some of them at our upcoming show, which is Saturday, January 18th at Gabe's Oasis. We're playing with Burn Disco Burn and Funks G. Doors at 9, $5 to get in. You should come and listen and dance. Yes.

I've also written some songs by myself. 8 of them, in fact. They're less silly than My Business Failed in Three Weeks and a little more I-N-T-R-O-S-P-E-C-T-I-V-E. I got together with Jake (the drummer from MBF3W) and he came up with some neato drum parts for them. I'm not really clear on what I'm going to do with these songs. I'd like to record them, so people can hear them and all that. Maybe Jake and I will play them at some No Shames. Who knows?

Unfortunately, the main things I wanted to do... I haven't done. I wanted to make copies of "America's Funniest American" for people, but technical stuff has been uncooperative and hindered me from doing so. I also wanted to write a 10-minute play to submit to the university's festival after break, but I haven't. I have an idea I really like, but it would require 12 year-old kids and I don't really know if casting them is possible. And I don't want 20 year-olds playing that age. It's kind of gross. Or maybe it would be okay. I don't know. That's assuming my play will even get selected, which is doubtful.

Hopefully, I can get another idea. The problem is... a lot of my ideas are based on memories. And obviously, most of my memories consist of when I was younger. And so, I write stuff with young'uns. It's a pity that I don't get satisifaction from writing about young twentysomethings making it on their own! (god kill me)

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WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1ST, 2003

On Saturday, I visited my friend John and his family in Omaha. That evening, we went to "About Schmidt," which I've been anxiously awaiting for the past couple years. The film's director Alexander Payne is one of my most favorite. He did "Election" and "Citizen Ruth." They're just really funny and honest movies - so dead-on in their observations of human behavior and situations.

"About Schmidt" was excellent. It's definitely a different sort of film than "Election" or "Citizen Ruth" in that it's a little more somber and arguably less acidic in its' humor, but it was still a really great film. Probably my favorite of the year. It's really atypical for a mainstream Hollywood film in the sense that it presents a character and shows their life during a given amount of time, but doesn't impose an arc onto them. I mean, the main character definitely goes from a point A to point B, but it doesn't come in this lesson of "Because of this, he's a different person" or "What a change he's made!" It just presents these scenarios and shows how one character interacts within them and what kind of observations can be gained from that.

And then there are these wonderful and honest ideas about how much you should involve yourself in other people's lives, how much you should keep them at arm's length, what will leave you feeling fulfilled, what leave you feeling empty.

I went to it again yesterday. That time, however, I didn't have a horrible accident outside the theatre before I saw it.

You see, on Saturday night, John and I were a tad late for the movie, so we were running to the theatre. And the theatre has these large windows as their walls, right? So, as I ran by, I could see everyone inside buying their tickets and waiting in the lobby. And me, with my infinite knowledge of what's "hilarious" decided it would be funny to stick my arm out and point to everyone inside as I ran by. Like I was a professional athlete or something like that. I don't know. It seemed funny at the time.

Unfortunately for me, I ran into a large, brick pillar. The side of my head completely cracked against the side of a sharp brick. And I was running at full force. Obviously, it really hurt. Just this blunt pain straight into my temple, across my head, down my chest.

And the worst part was that everyone inside the lobby was looking at me. Cuz, you know, I was the cocky guy who was recently running by, pointing at them like I was a professional athlete. This meant I had the awful task of entering into the theatre lobby with every single person staring at me, recognizing what a tool I was.

So all I wanted to do was get into the theatre as soon as possible and vanish from everyone's sight, but instead, this cop abruptly walks up to me in the lobby and asks, "What are you doing?" He obviously saw me run into the pillar and wants an explanation. But I'm like really dazed from the accident. Things are spinning and blurry and dizzy. I reply, "Oh, I'm just having fun." And he goes, "Well, we don't have fun here." And I say, "Oh, you don't? That's too bad." Because, y'know, I'm smooth that way.

He asks if I work there at the theatre - as if that would explain why I run into brick pillars at full force. I say, "No, I'm here to see a movie." He asks if I have tickets and I take them out, hands shaking violently. I notice the skin on my knuckles are torn and pulled back. I'm bleeding down my fingers. The cop doesn't seem to notice.

He takes the tickets and holds them in his hands. And it becomes all too clear to me that he's going to rip them up right in front of me. He's going to throw me out of the theatre, send me home, and not let me see "About Schmidt" because I've caused trouble at the local cineplex. Then, at that moment, he tears the tickets in half, hands the stubs back to me, and tells me to behave myself.

Soon after, John and I enter the theatre and we're looking for a place to sit. Absently, I touch my ear and when I look at my fingertips, there's blood all over them. There's a deep cut on the top of my lobe. Plus, there's a gash in the side of my head. For the rest of the movie, I'm putting napkins to my ear, dabbing the endlessly flowing blood.

After "About Schmidt," John and I went to another movie: a midnight screening of "Fight Club." People were having fun, wearing fake bruises and black eyes to resemble characters in the film. And here I was with my sliced ear, neck scratches, and my skin encrusted in blood. I suppose I looked like I was joining in on the fun as well.

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TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24TH, 2002

A few days ago, I returned home to LeMars for Christmas break.

My whole family's here. My sister Amy (also a student) is home from California. She and I saw a four month-old baby getting her ears pierced at the local shopping mall. That baby cried. But boy, we're her parents happy.

I've also gotten to see my sister Anne and her daughter Alexis. Alexis informed me that she "likes Li'l Romeo and Li'l Bow-wow's music, but she doesn't have crushes on them." It should be noted that Alexis is 36 years old. Ha-ha.

And, of course, my parents (or 'rents as I call them) are here, too. This morning, a mentally-disabled man dropped off a package of ginger at our house. My mom quipped, "He'll be dropping off Mary Ann later." Ginger, Mary Ann. Mary Ann, Ginger. My ma's such a card.

My father doesn't lack much in the world of "card-ness" either. Yesterday, he had a zany scheme. You see, he has multiple coupons for "8 dollars off a meal" at a fancy restaraunt in nearby Sioux City. Unfortunately, you can only use one coupon per table. So, my father hatches a devious plot for each of our five family members to sit at five separate tables (each with our own coupon). We ended up not going. It's too bad. I would have liked to have seen if such a thing would have worked.

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SATURDAY, DECEMBER 14TH, 2002

I'm watching "America's Funniest People" on cable right now. They're showing a music video made by the producers. It takes place in an Alaskan town where there's 50 men for every 1 woman (the hostess Tawny made the hilarious joke: "Sounds like the United States Congress." Yowch, Tawny, yowch! That stings!). In the video, it features a bunch of crusty sailors singing "Too Many Fish in the Sea." You see, it works on two levels: 1) They're sailors, so there surrounded by fish and 2) Since there's so many men in that town, there's "too many fish in the scene." Ha, ha, ha.

I bet those sailors are lonely.

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SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 24TH, 2002

Last night, I premiered my movie "America's Funniest American" and it was a really wonderful night. It felt great showing something to a room full of people and letting them know how I think and feel. And hearing their responses in the form of laughter or silence. And knowing that something is being shared between me and a group of people.

I was so happy to see that so many people came. I wish I could have thanked them all individually. I can't really express how special that or the rest of the night was to me or how touched I was. Although... I suppose it says a lot that while I'm writing this, I'm getting a feeling in my chest that closely resembles the one I get when I'm in love with someone.

So, yeah... that part of my life has concluded and I'm already nostalgic for it. I wish I still had something to edit, to think about, to examine, to create. I'm sure this all sounds over-dramatic. If I heard someone talking about their silly, little, amateur movie they made, I'd probably scoff, too. But it meant a lot to me. And I don't feel like downgrading that.

I guess it's just a case of a lot happening at once. In a way, the movie is a culmination of things I've examined and felt and thought about my entire life, so presenting it all at once makes you feel a little hollow the very next day. There were, of course, a million other aspects of my life that went unsaid, but a lot of it was there (i.e. Gary's desire for fame and acceptance, Don's obligations to others stemming out of love and guilt, everyone's loneleiness resulting in media overload; small-town boredom and desperation, the loss of honesty and integrity in hopes of making things better, etc.). I'm sure a lot of this wasn't expressed within the movie, but it was there for me and in essence, making the movie was a great map for me to explore these feelings and come to terms with them.

I already know that I want to make another video. I'll probably shoot again this summer. I've got some ideas and loose concepts, but nothing concrete. I suppose that's what I'll focus my attention on for the next 12 months.

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MONDAY, NOVEMBER 18TH, 2002

Well, last night at 7:00am, after 6 months of writing, shooting, and editing... I finally completed "America's Funniest American," my first full-length movie.

Which is a good thing, too, since I'm premiering it this Saturday. Here are the details:

"AMERICA'S FUNNIEST AMERICAN"

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 23RD, 2002 - 7:00PM

BECKER COMMUNICATIONS BUILDING - ROOM 101

FREE ADMISSION

I hope you come... so you can say, "He spent six months on THIS?"

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WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 30TH, 2002

So, I'm taking this Non-Fiction Video class, right? It's teaching me how to make documentaries, ya' dig? And as a result, I'm watching all these... yes, documentaries. And holy shit. I mean, I knew documentaries were good and all that. I'd watch them in the past and many times, they'd be amazing. "American Movie." "Crumb." "Gimme Shelter." Yes, yes. You know these. You know they're good.

But I'm watching 'em more and more now and I'm realizing how spectacular the genre is. "Grey Gardens." "Hearts and Minds." I watched "Sans Soleil" and for the 100 minutes that I watched it, I felt like my brain was being reorganized. JFK robots. Underground malls. Napping on monorails. Worshipping ceramic cats. I was having a million thoughts and ideas and concepts every second. I couldn't keep track. It was amazing.

And then that same day, I watched "Salesman," which is just this wonderful, heartbreaking documentary about these late-60's salesmen busting their humps in Miami, trying to sell bibles to bored and lonely housewives. Fuck "Death of a Salesman." Why do you need to put the average man on a throne to understand his plight? I understood rejection and desperation much better with this film than that play (still a good play though - it's only feeling the wrath of an unfair comparison).

It's not that I plan on pursuing a career in documentary filmmaking or anything... I just don't know why I didn't watch this genre earlier and more often? After all, their greatest quality (i.e. capturing the quiet moments of human behavior) is what I look for most in fictional films. Hence, my preference for directors like Hal Ashby, Todd Solondz, Alexander Payne, and PT Anderson.

Oh yeah... PT Anderson. I saw "Punch-Drunk Love" in Chicago over the weekend. Excellent, excellent, excellent. There's a lot of reasons, but the MAIN one is: For the past few years, my friend Johnny and I have been talking about what we want in the "modern film." And that is... for a lack of a simpler term, accelerated tonal shifts. Too often, films strike the same note over and over again. Sad. Sad. Sad. Happy. Happy. Happy. Fear. Fear. Fear. BAH! That sucks, you!

Audiences are sophisticated. They've seen enough films to know where their emotions are being lead. That's why more films need to take an emotion, stop it on a dime, and switch around. "Punch-Drunk Love" did this. For instance, within a particular two-minute sequence, I laughed, then got scared, and then was completely knocked by this unbelievably romantic and touching moment. And to top it all off, it made sense. It wasn't schizoid filmmaking. It was great filmmaking. Sheesh. I've been having some nice film-watching moments as of late.

As for my OWN movie, I'm sure it will be FIVE HUNDRED TIMES BETTER!!! No lie. No lie. By the way, I've only got one five-minute scene left to edit. Then all I need to do is put some credits at the end, make some final touch-ups, and... I'll be done! After six months (including over 300 hours of man labor), I will have this thing completed. I'm happy with it. Will you be?

So the movie's almost completed. And My Business Failed in Three Weeks' second album will be out soon. And the play I'm in ("A Man's A Man") is in its' last week of rehearsals. Everything's on the verge. It's excting.

Have you ever been in somebody's house and you're looking at their big, framed family portrait in the living room? And because they're too lazy to take a new family photo when somebody else is born, they just take a wallet-sized photo of the new member and stick it in the corner of the frame? You have? Isn't it funny?

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THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19TH, 2002

Last night, I went to the Bijou with a few friends and saw "The Piano Teacher." I enjoyed it - although it wasn't your average "joyous romp" or "crowd-pleaser" (i.e. "Sister Act," "Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit," or "Sister Act 3: Amusing Variation on Previous Back in the Habit Title").

I guess what I took away from it was... it's dangerous to set up rules on how a relationship should function. You can't set up and pre-plan how you're going to fall in love (or how to protect yourself from its' pitfalls). I'm not saying it's as dopey as "you just gots ta' let yourself go in da' love," but then again... I'm probably not saying anything too far from that either.

Have any of you ever listened to Big Star? This is my third or fourth year of listening to them and... by God, they get more and more beautitful with each passing day.

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MONDAY, AUGUST 26TH, 2002

The last time you and me saw each other, we were outside Spencer's Gifts in our favorite shopping mall. I told you about how I watched the "Super Mario Brothers" movie with my niece and feel asleep on the couch. How I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep again. How I've been running long distances and not losing my breath. You seemed interested - despite the frequent glances at your wristwatch. You claimed your mother was waiting outside in the parking lot and you didn't want to leave her waiting. We agreed to chat again soon.

The next day, I went to Iowa City. The first week was spent training to be a Resident Assistant. I learned procedures, rules and regulations, how to be an open-minded, caring individual. Second week was spent moving people in. I hauled boxes, shook hands, memorized names.

Now it's 2:30 am and I'm scrawling messages on the brick wall behind the Public Pool. "The new residents on my floor are kind-hearted and eager." "Classes start tomorrow." "I'm nervous about things I can't anticipate."

Maybe you'll come by riding your bike tomorrow morning. Maybe you'll stop and read those messages. Maybe you'll scrawl your own.

And I'll read them from the back of my parents' car. _________________________________________________________________________________________

THURSDAY, AUGUST 8TH, 2002

I feel asleep tonight at 10:30. I was watching "Super Mario Brothers: The Movie" with my niece Alexis and we feel asleep together on the couch - visions of Mario and Luigi dancing in our head.

In addition to the inherent niceness of this situation, I was also happy that I was getting to bed at a decent time. The past couple weeks I've been going to sleep at 7:00 am and getting up at 1:30pm. That's all well and good (I'd get lots of editing done and I like the night a lot), but I was worried because...

RA training starts on Sunday and I leave for Iowa City on Friday. Hence, my needing to get on a regular sleeping schedule. I don't want to be red-eyed and drowsy for my first couple days of training.

So yeah, I was asleep at 10:30 and thought I'd get up at 9am and everything would be awesome. You see where I'm going with this though, don't you? At 1:30am, I woke up to pee and couldn't fall back asleep. I hate it when that happens. Hate it.

Realizing that I wouldn't return to sweet, sweet slumber, I went out and ran and now I'm on the internet. Wide awake at 5:17am.

Will I get back on a regular sleeping schedule? The fate of the world hangs in the balance...

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TUESDAY, JULY 30TH, 2002

I haven't updated this in awhile, huh? I guess I've been busy.

One of the things that's kept me busy is I started a new part-time job at the local liquor store. My job entails re-stocking the cooler, cleaning the place up, and occasionally helping people take out their booze.

As expected, my non-drinking-ness hasn't affected my ability to serve. At least, I don't think it has. Although this one time, a man asked me if this particular bottle of something tasted good or not and I just stared at him until somebody answered for me.

What else? I got a new computer. I bought it because I needed one and all that, but my desire to start editing the movie is what really drove me to get it. I needed something higher-tech than what I had since all that footage takes up a lot of drive space. I like my new computer. And as long as I'm not misreading his/her signals, I think he/she likes me back. Maybe a potential prom date? (fingers crossed)

Speaking of the movie, I got it all shot. All the raw footage is on ten 60-minute digital-video cassettes. This means I have to edit 10 hours of raw footage into a 80 minute video. What is that? A 7-to-1 minute ratio? Something like that.

Right now, I have roughly 33 minutes of the final video editied. On average, it takes me about four hours to edit 3 minutes of footage. So I guess I've devoted over 40 hours of editing to this movie already. I'm about a third of the way done. Uh, sorry. That's a lot of numbers that will probably not stick with you. Ever.

Editing has taken a lot of devotion and such. My past couple weeks have mainly consisted of me: waking up, editing in the afternoon until work at 5pm, resuming editing after work, editing until 6am, going to sleep, and doing it all over again. This is by no means un-fun work, however. Editing's a blast. I'll genuinely miss it when it's gone.

It's nice, too, cuz then I'm around the house and I get to see my folks and they're really cool. I won't get to see them for 9 months. It's not like I get homesick when I'm away from them or anything like that, but if I have the opportunity, I like to spend time with them. And I do. So I will.

I did take a break from editing last weekend, however. I visited one of my bestest f-r-i-e-n-d-s ever Johnny-John Henry Muller and his wife Denise in Omaha. They're a coupla' the koolest kats in da' world. We tore up 0-town and showed it a thing or two about having fun. I'll sure miss those nutty nuts!

Holy guacamole! This is a lengthy... a lengthy... essay. I guess it was a long-time comin' though, eh?

Well, I'll be back in Iowa City soon. I have to be there by August 10th to begin RA training. I wonder if that ol' salty whore known as Iowa City is ready for me. Probably not. But hey... who is?

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WEDNESDAY, JUNE 26TH, 2002

A few weeks ago, I was driving to the Omaha airport and reflecting on things (as people are prone to do in long car rides, listening to mix tapes) and I realized something. Every 22 months, something major happens in my life. I won't get into the actual details, but believe me, they're big deals. So big that they influence the next 22 months... until something else happens. In fact, I retraced my history and realized that this has been happening since 6th grade. It could have gone back even farther.

Anyway, I calculated and figured out that my 22 months are up in July. That means, using history as a gauge, something big and important will happen in my life next month.

What could it be, you ask? Perhaps I'll fall in love with a beautiful movie star? Or maybe I'll contract a strange disease? Or perhaps a loved one will die? The self-serving possibilites are endless!

Oh, what awaits for me?

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SUNDAY, JUNE 16TH, 2002

Ten minutes ago, I got done watching a movie. The movie was in black and white and I watched it in the basement and I had the lights off. So it was really dark down there.

When the movie was over, I came upstairs and everything was bright - so bright that it felt un-natural. Like a colorized movie, you know? I knew it was just my eyes adjusting, but the colors still felt surreal.

I don't like interruptions during movies (even if it's one on video that I can just pause), so I rarely take breaks (i.e. getting something to eat, going the bathroom). Thus, often times, I have to pee really bad after a movie. Like today, for example.

So as I peed in the toliet of my too-bright bathroom, I bent backwards a little bit to look out the window. Everything was still extremely bright. The grass was very green, the sky was very blue, and the sprinkler was very orange. That's when I saw a bird.

It was a robin, I believe. And it was flopping on the ground or twitching wildly or shaking violently, something like that. It was getting sprayed on by the sprinkler. I assumed the bird had gotten its wings wet and couldn't fly (I don't know if this can actually happen, but I saw a "Three Stooges" once where said stooges caught a bird by doing such a thing).

I looked closer though and realized that this wasn't the case. It was TWO birds. And these two birds were having what one could consider... "bird-sex." With one hand, I separated the blinds. I got a better view and confirmed that, "Yes, these birds were having bird-sex."

And I stood there, watching these birds have bird-sex and urinating for an eternity. I finished going the bathroom and then stood there for a moment - silently watching these birds. It was then that I realized I wanted to get a closer look.

So I ran out my back door in my pajamas and approached the two birds. This would be quite a thing, I thought. My being in close proximity to two birds creating life! Perhaps they would both turn their heads and look at me just at the moment they were conceiving their young? Unfortunately, this would not happen. As soon as I was 15 feet away, they flew away... still attached to each other.

Then I looked around. The grass was still very green, the sky was still very blue, and the sprinkler was still very orange. Yes, I had been standing in the sprinkler.

I walked back inside... pajamas completely soaked.

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MONDAY, JUNE 10TH, 2002

My parents are in Washington, D.C. I am home alone. Fortunately, no robbers named Harry and Marve have tried to break into my house. If they would, however, I'd be ready to defend myself with a series of dangerous, but highly amusing, booby traps. The blowtorch would burn his head good!

So, for the past few days, I've been sitting around, surfing the net, writing the script, reading, watching my new "Mr. Show" DVDs. During the days, I'm helping the employee at my dad's shop. I also do chores (taking out the garbage, watering my ma's flowers, mowing the yard).

In addition, I've been running a lot. For a few days, I was running 5 miles a day. Then this morning, I had Plantar's Warts burnt off my feet and now they hurt, disabling me from running. Pity.

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TUESDAY, JUNE 4TH, 2002

Well, I got to ol' hometown LeMars, but I wasn't there for very long. After a couple days, I went to the "Bay Area" to visit my oldest sister Amy. She's out in California because she's getting her doctorate in Film Studies at Berekely. She likes movies just like me. We're brother and sister!

And what did we do way out West? Well, I'm glad you asked. I saw a couple movies: "Y Tu Mama Tambien" and "Time Out" ("L' Emploi du Temps"), which were... wonderful! I also went to the Museum of Modern Art (highlight: a Gerard Richter portrait that made me feel W-W-W-WEIRD). And don't forget the sketch comedy revue or the politically offensive wax museum or the Santa Cruz boardwalk. But the best part? Gettin' to see my super-neat sister Amy, of course!

When I got back, my poppa asked me to go fishing. And like lickety split, we were in Platte, South Dakota - fishin' for walleyes and bondin' like fathers and sons do! It was a good time. My dad's a funny man. He once told me a joke with the punchline, "I didn't even know my daughter had a penis." How can you NOT love that?

So after all that, I'm back in LeMars and I think I will be for awhile. Yes, sir.

By the way, did you hear that tons of pregnant women were asking New York hospitals if they could have their child in "Rachel's room" after the "Friends" season finale (not knowing that it was videotaped in a Hollywood studio)? Well... at least, people aren't fucking idiots - oh, wait.

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TUESDAY, MAY 21ST, 2002

I'm home from college and back in LeMars, Iowa again. And woah, boy, I gotsa buncha stuff I want to do this summer. I'd like to write and record some new songs (both for My Business Failed in Three Weeks and solo things). I also would like to revise my "Garveys" play script for possible production next school year (don't know where or how, but dammit, we'll do this, Lieutenant). And finally, it'd be cool to write, shoot, and edit a short video, too. I probably won't get to do it all, but I'll try and it'll keep myself busy, right?

As for work, I'm not for sure. I got one job definitely and that's substituting at the local AM radio station. I need to get another job though. There's talk of me part-timing at a liquor store. Just think... me, a non-drinker for specific personal and social beliefs, dispensing booze to the world. Ha-ha!

Well... yes, I do have some concern that I could feel guilty for taking on the job, but I'm not too worried. It could, however, be troubling to see, for example, the same sad-looing woman buy booze everyday at 5:10pm. Yes, that could be a real downer indeed. Oh, well. Nothing a little booze can't solve. Wait. Huh?

By the way, who reads this silly webapge anyhow? Sign my guestbook if you do. It's on the bottom of my mainpage.

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FRIDAY, MAY 3RD, 2002

A couple weeks ago, I submitted a play for the University of Iowa's Workshop Series. If your play is chosen, the UI Theatre Deptartment lets you use one of their spaces, pick actors from their auditions, and do all the other nice things that one can do when putting on a play. Unfortunately, I found out yesterday that my play wasn't chosen.

This, of course, bums me out. I was really excited about the play. It was called "The Garveys" and focused on a travelling family of performers who put on good, ol' fashioned entertainment shows at various Midwestern county fairs. During the play, scenes switch between their whimsical onstage show and their dysfunctional backstage lives.

I enjoyed writing it because I got to both engage in stoopid "entertainment" junk AND explore dark subject matter (i.e. family life, artifice, needless ambition, public/private circles, the desire to save others, etc.). I got the best of both worlds.

So it's too bad I didn't get to do this. It might have helped me exorcise a lot of those aforementioned ideas that I've been exploring over and over again (in songs, No Shame pieces, short videos), so I could move onto new territroy.

Guess not. I suppose I'll have to run those ideas into the ground.

By the way, My Business Failed in Three Weeks' webpage (http://listen.to/mbf3w) is up and running again. You should check it out.

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SATURDAY, APRIL 6TH, 2002

Last night, I had a dream that's been re-occurring since the age of 4 or 5. This is pretty exciting if you think about it. It's like getting to see a movie from your childhood all over again. So, in essence, last night, I got to re-watch "Wizard of Oz," "Willy Wonka," and "Cloak and Dagger" (this is a movie from MY childhood, at least - look it up on imdb to find out more about this "wonderful" film!).

Now I know the retelling of dreams can be awfully boring, so I'll be brief. Basically, it's me walking around in a large wooden warehouse/labyrinth, which has various trap-doors and elevators. In some instances, there is a monster lurking around. In others, there is a scary funhouse ride hidden inside its walls. Often times, it's discovered that this entire world is actually the basement of my dad's store. Sometimes people are with me, sometimes I'm all alone. No matter what though, it's always wooden and vast and weird.

I haven't had this dream for (what I believe has been) three years. In last night's latest edition, there was one new difference. For the first time ever, all the wood was varnished and polished. Before it was straw-colored and dull. Now it was bright, shiny yellow.

I don't know what this new addition means. In fact, I don't know what this dream means at all. Why have I been having it for nearly 16 years? What's the significance? True, dreams don't always have to "represent" something, but it's obviously important to me for some reason.

There's probably a lot that can be read into this with a pop psychology frame of mind (i.e. labyrinths, secret passages, my FATHER!). I guess I should take some time to figure it out. Maybe I'm avoiding it. Whatever the case, I just shared a dream with people and as a result, invited mutliple theories on my psyche.

How many of you think it has to do wtih my traumatic toliet-training?

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WEDNESDAY, MARCH 6TH, 2002

Yesterday, a teacher of mine quoted Shakespeare. You know Shakespeare, right? He's that overrated playwright(overrated in the fact that I can't enjoy his plays and therefore, feel the need to form a snobby distance from it, so I don't appear ignorant).

Anyway, the line my teacher quoted was, "What a tangled web we weave when we try to deceive" or something to that effect. That reminded me of my days in Catholic school. (Cue flashback music)

You see, in school, we had to memorize the Ten Commandments. This, however, was a daunting task since... well, remembering ten things is tough, right? So, the teacher taught us clever ways of remembering the commandments (i.e. "Treat God like He's #1 - The #1 commandment is "I am the Lord, Your God. There shall be no other Gods besides me"). You get it? No? Um, yes.

The way we were taught to memorize the eighth commandment was this: as you make the figure 8 with your finger in the air, you say "what a tangled web we weave when we try to deceive." Thus, the figure 8 also resembles a web. So... 8=Web of lies=8th commandment ("Thou Shall Not Lie"). Get it? No? Um, yes.

In retrospect, I'm glad I received this education. If it wasn't for clever forms of memorization, I would have never learned any values or ethics or morals. I'd be off killing people and having sex with my neighbor's wife like nobody's business.

Thank you, Mrs. Henrich, thank you.

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SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 23RD, 2002

The past couple weeks have been busy. There was the regular heavy schoolwork, which is expected, right? Then there was the 10 Minute Play Festival (I acted in one play called "Grass" and the one I wrote "Don's Block Party Comedy Hour" was featured in it). All of that was really exciting and satisfying.

And then there was this whole No Shame Daily Iowan article debacle (it's a long story consisting of misrepresentations and public embarrasment). It's interesting. The day the article was printed, I felt a new emotion (consisting of feeling betrayed, humiliated, and ashamed). So I guess that's cool. You don't feel something new everyday.

To make matters worse, this article had to come at a point where I'm incredibly self-conscious about my work at No Shame. More and more, I feel like a hack whose covering the same ground and not creating engaging art. I don't feel like it's impacting any of the audience members. Of course, it's arrogant of me to think that I even can.

Now look... I've rambled and bithced and there's no kicker.

Oh, I found out I got an RA position for next year. That's nice.

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THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 7TH, 2002

Today, I was walking to my "Fiction Video" class. From far away, I saw a crowd of people surrounding a table. Since I've been a student at the University of Iowa for a year and a half now, I quickly understood the situation. People were giving away their vital information (names, phone numbers, outlines of house keys) to receive a free t-shirt. A fair trade, in my opinion.

As I approached the table, I spied the available free t-shirts. They featured such phrases as "Blunt" and "Blunt" and "Blunt." Because, y'know, we're in college and we like to smoke pot and then show others that we do. Hey, we're young! We make poor choices! We're all the same! Let's high-five. HIGH-five indeed!

The funny part is... amongst these piles of marijuana shirts, there was one shirt that had an American flag on it with the message, "United We Stand... In the Wake of September 11th."

And for those of you keeping track on how many times September 11th has been used to gain attention, make a profit, revive a has-been career, or be fodder for novelty-shirts... this is 1,578.

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TUESDAY, JANUARY 29TH, 2002

Yesterday morning, I did something I haven't done since I was eight. And no, it wasn't riding a bike or playing tag or having a crush on my second grade teacher. Yesterday morning, I wet the bed.

At approximately 8:08am, I was suddenly awakened with the feeling of a body-temperatured liquid hitting my thigh. There was minimal damage to my mattress. The stain was merely the size of a silver dollar (as in the money, not the pancakes).

My pants, however, were a different story. If I were a Disaster Control official surveying the damage, my pants would be considered the result of a cracked reservoir. The PISSissippi River flooding my trouser leg. (This paragraph is getting dangerously close to Jay Leno joke territory, so I will move on).

I cleaned everything up and I suppose everything's settled, but I can't help but wonder what this all means. Am I regressing into my childhood? Will I begin crapping my pants again? Sucking my thumb? Processing food through an umblicial cord?

Yes, I am almost sure of it.

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TUESDAY, JANUARY 22ND, 2002

So yeah, this is the place where I'll have "updates." Basically, these "updates" will consist of me talking about what's going on in my life and my thoughts. And other things I don't know why I'm putting on the Internet. I could speculate why I feel the need to do this, but I won't... not right now, that is!

I've had it in my head for awhile to do this "update thing." I just decided to do it today. I'm a little worried, however. A couple days ago, I noticed that a woman who does No Shame like me (Aprille Clarke) does it on her webpage, too. This (on top of the fact that I got that homepage pic of me from her website) makes me seem like an A-1 Aprille Clarke rip-off. I hope the world forgives me.

I feel like I may have committed another atrocity as well. Today, in "The Daily Iowan," there was an ad for people to submit their own "The Ledge," which is like the 10 Top Ten List (except, y'know, without the cleverness and humor of David Letterman).

Probably for the same reason that I write these updates, I decided to submit a couple of my own "Ledges." The ad said that if the editors like them, they'll print them. If (big if) mine get printed, I'll probably regret it as I soon realize that my jokes weren't funny and I was merely doing it for desperate acclaim. I'm a pathetic man.

Who wants sandwiches?!

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