Yes yes my adoring fans and subscribers to the Skidmore Scope, that is yours truly in a full page picture buying books. And no, I didn't buy those books, and yes in fact I did steal some of them. I only took the 2 I needed most and left the rest at the desk and said, "I'll be back when I have money."
Wow, right now my washing machine is rocking back and forth so hard I think it's going to pull itself from the wall. It's banging so loud I can't hear any of the music coming from the next room. This merits investigation.
Upon taking one step into the kitchen...the washing machine stopped moving at all. One step. Almost as if...on cue...
Sniff. Sniff. I smell a conspiracy. I'm going to unplug the refrigerator now.
I have my meeting with my Probation Officer tomorrow. She sounds kind of like a hard ass. Rob on the other hand is teaching his probation officer how to play guitar. God dammit. Oh Christine M. Pusateri, I wish that you are a wonderful person who feels compelled to take pity on me. Or that you're really bitter and grizzled and you don't want to deal with me at all. Either one of those two things would be wonderful. As long as you call me a kid in a way that doesn't imply that I should be punished more than I already have been.
Bokay, now I have to write Pat Oles and email. Well Pat, so we meet again on the field of batter.
mm. pancakes.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Why is it that Pumpkin is actually considered a 'yummy' flavor, when actual pumpkins probably taste like ass?
Since when does buying a half pound of weed make me a bad person. Since when is it an "awful thing." HELLO? Doesn't anyone remember the seventies for chrissake? COME ON! Everybody and their mother smoked pot until the eighties (when I might add they either got old or switched to coke), there's nothing that wrong with them. Sure they may suffer from an unfortunate sense of world harmony or potentially dillusional liberalism, but heck most old occasional pot smokers have done pretty well for themselves, leading by and large mild mannered suburban lives with wine! On the other hand, what happens to no-necked, dipshit frat boys and their beer pong team? They inherit/work their way up to owning a lovely used car dealership in bumblefuck connecticut or virginia, get a belly and marry their college girlfriend. Hey douchebag, how often do you have to buy pants? Oh, 3 times a year? Awesome, how's your wife's black eye? Oh she fell down the stairs? Bet you're glad you never smoked pot, that liver disease must be awesome. It goes well with the ulcers. Anyway happy bald spot, hope the mall shop/ chain store you're middle management at turns a good profit this year, maybe you'll be honored with some meaningless distinction involving a gold version of whatever product you sell. Fuck-all.
Look for me on your streetcorner though, and please forget all about this and drop a sacagawea in my burger king cup. I promise I won't piss on your yard. You've got beautiful kids.
It looks more and more like I'm moving to New York City. To some small studio on Manhattan (I hope) and transferring to NYU (I hope). I'm interning with Foreman at the Ontological (sweet!). This whole thing sounds so delightfully romantic that I just can't seem to come to grips with the really really (like don't lick it or you're gonna lose some skin) cold reality of new york. It's like I don't remember living out of my ciggarette case with enough change every day to buy a taco. Doing nothing but eating hard rolls fried in butter, not having to eat more than once a day cause I never got out of bed. Not being able to find a job cause I was too scared to go above 14th St. On the upside I won't have to live with some backwoods retard aspiring HR manager, what kind of sick fuck do you have to be to want to go into Human Resources. That's not exactly an exciting and thrilling field full of challenges you can really take home with you. I learned a lot about people who drink bud light (for the taste) that summer. On the downside I won't be living with a huge jocky lookin guy who goes to princeton and studies finance. I won't be able to have very intelligent conversations with him about the markets and how best to manage money in the long term. And he won't be smoking me up all the time with the fucking danks. Haze, Rhino, Jackalope you name it. God that was an all around mediocre time.
Bah.
I wonder how to get cooler templates for blogger like the one brendon has.
commonlymisspelled.blogspot.com
I'm going to go looking for one
Look for me on your streetcorner though, and please forget all about this and drop a sacagawea in my burger king cup. I promise I won't piss on your yard. You've got beautiful kids.
It looks more and more like I'm moving to New York City. To some small studio on Manhattan (I hope) and transferring to NYU (I hope). I'm interning with Foreman at the Ontological (sweet!). This whole thing sounds so delightfully romantic that I just can't seem to come to grips with the really really (like don't lick it or you're gonna lose some skin) cold reality of new york. It's like I don't remember living out of my ciggarette case with enough change every day to buy a taco. Doing nothing but eating hard rolls fried in butter, not having to eat more than once a day cause I never got out of bed. Not being able to find a job cause I was too scared to go above 14th St. On the upside I won't have to live with some backwoods retard aspiring HR manager, what kind of sick fuck do you have to be to want to go into Human Resources. That's not exactly an exciting and thrilling field full of challenges you can really take home with you. I learned a lot about people who drink bud light (for the taste) that summer. On the downside I won't be living with a huge jocky lookin guy who goes to princeton and studies finance. I won't be able to have very intelligent conversations with him about the markets and how best to manage money in the long term. And he won't be smoking me up all the time with the fucking danks. Haze, Rhino, Jackalope you name it. God that was an all around mediocre time.
Bah.
I wonder how to get cooler templates for blogger like the one brendon has.
commonlymisspelled.blogspot.com
I'm going to go looking for one
Saturday, October 15, 2005
So if I love Fiona Apple's new album, can I never wear work boots?
Blog Blog BLOG!
15 letters and a petition for the abrogation of my suspension. "It really speaks to your character." Thanks, Pat. No, seriously, the student body speaks out against the administration with a testament to my integrity, commitment to reform and contributions to Skidmore and from this you glean that I'm "A really great guy." A really great guy. huh. A really great guy, I guess I'll chew on that for a while, just to stop me immediately vomiting bile and my disgust for academic bureaucracy all over your institutional oak desk and hideous button-down. Vertical stripes are slimming Pat, but not THAT slimming.
It really didn't help that when I pointed out that suspending me not only won't stop kids from smoking, but it will encourage them to lie in front of the Integrity Board, he agreed and then responded "Sometimes being honest gets you in more trouble, but that speaks highly of your integrity."
S'cuse me while I roll my jaw up off the floor. Honesty should never get you in the most trouble. The most trouble should be for lying. He then pointed out that it speaks to how the school is responding that they didn't dismiss me. Yah. Ok, whatever you say Pat. Dismissal was probably never going to happen. Bah, well that's my diatribe about idiotic, dogmatic and indifferent "reformative policy."
I'd like to thank the thesaurus for telling me that rescindition isn't a word and that abrogate would be exactly what I'm looking for.
And so, without further ado:
A LIST OF THINGS TO DO FOR THE BORED AND DISENFRANCHISED!!
1. Blog.
2. Drink
3. Read and mope and then mope and read
4. Download widgets for your new operating system on your new computer that allow you to control all, see all, know all, and play asteroids.
5. Drink more and violate your probation by doing so. The latter only applies if you are actually on probation.
6. Move to another city and start a new life, thereby cutting all ties with your previous school.
7. (Mutually exclusive with #6) Take a 4 month mind vacation. Buy a new Xbox and play the shit out of all video games. Potentially become so good that you don't need to go back to school because you are winning so many fucking Halo and Perfect Dark tournaments. Fuck yeah. Your fucking name is known all over the web, you are a living legend. Women will sleep with you because of your outstanding hand eye coordination. The downside is, due to the time spent inside becoming a god of video games, you cannot go outside on sunny days, the UV rays are too stong and even a minimal exposure will burn you enough to get sun poisoning. But then you go back to school and finish your degree after the suspension is over.
8. Continue to drink until you have a transcendental experience.
9. Write letters to Sir John Gielgud about the plight of the artist in the 21st century, touching on America's move toward the xenophobic christian right and how that relates to a world artistic community.
10. Recieve an answer to your letters, in which Sir John tells you about some of his personal experience on the set of Elizabeth, specifically how hot Cate Blanchett was and how she used to walk around the set half naked all the time until it was time to put on the corset. He wanted to tax that ass for days, but found it rather difficult when he knocked on her trailer door and, much to his chagrin, Geoffrey Rush opened the door. Blanchett boffing Rush? Apparently the set of Elizabeth was as steamy as the movie itself...Which you don't really remember because you saw it on an airplane.
11. You arrange to meet Gielgud himself. You grab a grilled muffin and a cup of joe from the deli on the corner of Broome and Prince in Soho. While you're walking and talking about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes (Sir John thinks he's totally a flamer too) you wonder to yourself why Gielgud hasn't engaged you in any serious kind of esoteric conversation about art. When you try to engage him about the work of Liz LeCompte, he laughs and steers the conversation to Nick and Jessica and it's it so funny all these celebrity couples. A discussion of the scarcity of good gallery space suddenly turns to Jessica Alba and her sweet ass. A attempted dialogue about how difficult it is to get published, turns into a monologue as Sir John begins to sing Gold Digger. Something is wrong here. Sensing an opportunity, you slyly refer to him as John and not SIR John. There is no reaction. Nothing not even a flicker of acknowledgement. This is not Sir John Gielgud. No man who is knighted ever forgets that he is a Knight! You throw your coffee at the phony Gielgud and he reels back, plastic dripping from his face. The mask melted away, a very confused Chris Klein is doubled over before you. "You're that guy from American Pie, you really suck!" you exclaim.
" I was in the United States of Leland, it was an independent film with Don Cheadle, I'm a legitimate actor." He squeals.
"Oh I know, I saw that one too and I fucking want the 2 hours of my life back. That was awful, like really awful. How can you even pretend to be John Gielgud? What would make you do that?"
"I just- I just wanted someone to like me." Klein whimpers.
"Why would anyone ever like you. You suck."
"I was in This Is Our Youth on the West End."
"You should probably get yourself to a hospital. That's starting to look bad." You say, noticing the growing blisters all over Klein's high cheekbones. You begin to walk away, but he grabs at your wrist pulling you back.
"Wait! I just want to know one thing before you go. How did you know it wasn't Gielgud?"
"Why don't you go ask Ian McKellan...now get away from me." You respond, and turn away.
"Wait," Klein stammers, grabbing again at your arm "One more thing, just one more. How was I in We Were Soldiers? You know, with Mel Gibson?"
Catching a glint of metal out of the corner of your eye, you grab a rusty pipe from a pile of junk next to you on the street. You bring it to bear across Klein's left eye, which drops him immediately to the pavement, he doesn't move, doesn't breathe.
"Never saw it." You say as you turn and walk back to the subway. Lucky thing it it's trash day, you hate to litter.
15 letters and a petition for the abrogation of my suspension. "It really speaks to your character." Thanks, Pat. No, seriously, the student body speaks out against the administration with a testament to my integrity, commitment to reform and contributions to Skidmore and from this you glean that I'm "A really great guy." A really great guy. huh. A really great guy, I guess I'll chew on that for a while, just to stop me immediately vomiting bile and my disgust for academic bureaucracy all over your institutional oak desk and hideous button-down. Vertical stripes are slimming Pat, but not THAT slimming.
It really didn't help that when I pointed out that suspending me not only won't stop kids from smoking, but it will encourage them to lie in front of the Integrity Board, he agreed and then responded "Sometimes being honest gets you in more trouble, but that speaks highly of your integrity."
S'cuse me while I roll my jaw up off the floor. Honesty should never get you in the most trouble. The most trouble should be for lying. He then pointed out that it speaks to how the school is responding that they didn't dismiss me. Yah. Ok, whatever you say Pat. Dismissal was probably never going to happen. Bah, well that's my diatribe about idiotic, dogmatic and indifferent "reformative policy."
I'd like to thank the thesaurus for telling me that rescindition isn't a word and that abrogate would be exactly what I'm looking for.
And so, without further ado:
A LIST OF THINGS TO DO FOR THE BORED AND DISENFRANCHISED!!
1. Blog.
2. Drink
3. Read and mope and then mope and read
4. Download widgets for your new operating system on your new computer that allow you to control all, see all, know all, and play asteroids.
5. Drink more and violate your probation by doing so. The latter only applies if you are actually on probation.
6. Move to another city and start a new life, thereby cutting all ties with your previous school.
7. (Mutually exclusive with #6) Take a 4 month mind vacation. Buy a new Xbox and play the shit out of all video games. Potentially become so good that you don't need to go back to school because you are winning so many fucking Halo and Perfect Dark tournaments. Fuck yeah. Your fucking name is known all over the web, you are a living legend. Women will sleep with you because of your outstanding hand eye coordination. The downside is, due to the time spent inside becoming a god of video games, you cannot go outside on sunny days, the UV rays are too stong and even a minimal exposure will burn you enough to get sun poisoning. But then you go back to school and finish your degree after the suspension is over.
8. Continue to drink until you have a transcendental experience.
9. Write letters to Sir John Gielgud about the plight of the artist in the 21st century, touching on America's move toward the xenophobic christian right and how that relates to a world artistic community.
10. Recieve an answer to your letters, in which Sir John tells you about some of his personal experience on the set of Elizabeth, specifically how hot Cate Blanchett was and how she used to walk around the set half naked all the time until it was time to put on the corset. He wanted to tax that ass for days, but found it rather difficult when he knocked on her trailer door and, much to his chagrin, Geoffrey Rush opened the door. Blanchett boffing Rush? Apparently the set of Elizabeth was as steamy as the movie itself...Which you don't really remember because you saw it on an airplane.
11. You arrange to meet Gielgud himself. You grab a grilled muffin and a cup of joe from the deli on the corner of Broome and Prince in Soho. While you're walking and talking about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes (Sir John thinks he's totally a flamer too) you wonder to yourself why Gielgud hasn't engaged you in any serious kind of esoteric conversation about art. When you try to engage him about the work of Liz LeCompte, he laughs and steers the conversation to Nick and Jessica and it's it so funny all these celebrity couples. A discussion of the scarcity of good gallery space suddenly turns to Jessica Alba and her sweet ass. A attempted dialogue about how difficult it is to get published, turns into a monologue as Sir John begins to sing Gold Digger. Something is wrong here. Sensing an opportunity, you slyly refer to him as John and not SIR John. There is no reaction. Nothing not even a flicker of acknowledgement. This is not Sir John Gielgud. No man who is knighted ever forgets that he is a Knight! You throw your coffee at the phony Gielgud and he reels back, plastic dripping from his face. The mask melted away, a very confused Chris Klein is doubled over before you. "You're that guy from American Pie, you really suck!" you exclaim.
" I was in the United States of Leland, it was an independent film with Don Cheadle, I'm a legitimate actor." He squeals.
"Oh I know, I saw that one too and I fucking want the 2 hours of my life back. That was awful, like really awful. How can you even pretend to be John Gielgud? What would make you do that?"
"I just- I just wanted someone to like me." Klein whimpers.
"Why would anyone ever like you. You suck."
"I was in This Is Our Youth on the West End."
"You should probably get yourself to a hospital. That's starting to look bad." You say, noticing the growing blisters all over Klein's high cheekbones. You begin to walk away, but he grabs at your wrist pulling you back.
"Wait! I just want to know one thing before you go. How did you know it wasn't Gielgud?"
"Why don't you go ask Ian McKellan...now get away from me." You respond, and turn away.
"Wait," Klein stammers, grabbing again at your arm "One more thing, just one more. How was I in We Were Soldiers? You know, with Mel Gibson?"
Catching a glint of metal out of the corner of your eye, you grab a rusty pipe from a pile of junk next to you on the street. You bring it to bear across Klein's left eye, which drops him immediately to the pavement, he doesn't move, doesn't breathe.
"Never saw it." You say as you turn and walk back to the subway. Lucky thing it it's trash day, you hate to litter.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Things Shaped Like A Boot: Italy, A Boot, Skidmore's Drug Policy
BItch! So I found out last week that I got kicked out. But I appealed, and I will fight! I will not go silently into the night (or whatever Bill Pullman says in ID4)! But I had my meeting with Pat "Nice Guy, Good Smile" Oles yesterday, and oooh boy. Here's a little bit of the conversation
Pat: The problem in this of course is that when a parent or a member of the Saratoga community comes to me and says "this kid got caught with a half pound of weed and you didn't suspend him, how can you say Skidmore is hard on drugs?" What would you say to that if you were in my position? I mean how could you, how would you justify that to them?
Me: Uh.
Pat: Because I am going to be having those conversations and it's just that this is an example to the whole school and to the whole community.
Me: Um.
Pat: Because if I don't suspend you everybody who gets caught with 3 joints and a hookah is gonna point to you and say look at last year's big shot, you didn't suspend him. You know you're a prominent figure on campus, and so I can't exactly have you walking around getting away with this. What kind of message does that send?
Me: Well...
Pat: But I will consider this because there is a lot to think about here both your side and mine so I'll render a decision by friday at 11.
Me: ...I guess what I want to say is that... oh, oh sorry yeah ok that um...yeah that sounds fine...ok... great....
I'm a grade A idiot. I don't really have a good feeling about this. So people of New York City, prepare for my arrival!!
Also, for anyone who hasn't seen this. It's funny, like actually funny not gross funny or stupid funny.
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/shining.html
I hope that shows up as a link. I had a story to tell in this post that I thought would make a good post. But now I can't remember. boo. I have come to realize I need an awesome pseudonym. Like Accidentally Disastrous, but that's spoken for. Dammit. Coincidentally Catastrophic? Eh. I said Kemosabe in an earlier post. But upon trying to remember where that comes from, it's from the Lone Ranger. I thought that series was stupid. Granted, I come from the age of Ninja Turtles so a stupid guy in a stupid stupid mask riding a stupid horse and being racist all over the Wild West has little appeal. I had a giant rat for a sensei people. Now that's drama, that's action. My villans didn't rob banks, or if they did, they did it with blades all over their forearms. Blades! All over their forearms! What if you crossed your arms Shredder? Just by accident cause you were trying to look badass cause you forgot that you already do cause you have blades on your forearms. Ah, but I digress. So I think that Kemosabe is stupid BUT, Kenzie could get away with it with a slight alteration. Chemosavy? eh? Yeah, you get it? Cause it's like, well nevermind.
I'm breaking out. I haven't broken out like this.....ever. I have the nastiest patch of disgusting zits on the side of my face. Ugh. It's like I'm being dragged forcibly through puberty. Again. But this time they're determined to get me. Sons of bitches.
Profound Wank.
Pat: The problem in this of course is that when a parent or a member of the Saratoga community comes to me and says "this kid got caught with a half pound of weed and you didn't suspend him, how can you say Skidmore is hard on drugs?" What would you say to that if you were in my position? I mean how could you, how would you justify that to them?
Me: Uh.
Pat: Because I am going to be having those conversations and it's just that this is an example to the whole school and to the whole community.
Me: Um.
Pat: Because if I don't suspend you everybody who gets caught with 3 joints and a hookah is gonna point to you and say look at last year's big shot, you didn't suspend him. You know you're a prominent figure on campus, and so I can't exactly have you walking around getting away with this. What kind of message does that send?
Me: Well...
Pat: But I will consider this because there is a lot to think about here both your side and mine so I'll render a decision by friday at 11.
Me: ...I guess what I want to say is that... oh, oh sorry yeah ok that um...yeah that sounds fine...ok... great....
I'm a grade A idiot. I don't really have a good feeling about this. So people of New York City, prepare for my arrival!!
Also, for anyone who hasn't seen this. It's funny, like actually funny not gross funny or stupid funny.
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/shining.html
I hope that shows up as a link. I had a story to tell in this post that I thought would make a good post. But now I can't remember. boo. I have come to realize I need an awesome pseudonym. Like Accidentally Disastrous, but that's spoken for. Dammit. Coincidentally Catastrophic? Eh. I said Kemosabe in an earlier post. But upon trying to remember where that comes from, it's from the Lone Ranger. I thought that series was stupid. Granted, I come from the age of Ninja Turtles so a stupid guy in a stupid stupid mask riding a stupid horse and being racist all over the Wild West has little appeal. I had a giant rat for a sensei people. Now that's drama, that's action. My villans didn't rob banks, or if they did, they did it with blades all over their forearms. Blades! All over their forearms! What if you crossed your arms Shredder? Just by accident cause you were trying to look badass cause you forgot that you already do cause you have blades on your forearms. Ah, but I digress. So I think that Kemosabe is stupid BUT, Kenzie could get away with it with a slight alteration. Chemosavy? eh? Yeah, you get it? Cause it's like, well nevermind.
I'm breaking out. I haven't broken out like this.....ever. I have the nastiest patch of disgusting zits on the side of my face. Ugh. It's like I'm being dragged forcibly through puberty. Again. But this time they're determined to get me. Sons of bitches.
Profound Wank.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Someday I'll Be A Memory.
It's going to be soon. I can feel it coming to a head. Someday soon, like within a few months, I will be only a memory to everyone I know at Skidmore. I got the boot, and my one shot, the only chance I've got to stop this from happening and to keep me having a college degree is in 2 days.
Oh my god, I just farted and it smells so bad. God, I hope lizzie can't smell that shit. I didnt' actually shit, that was like 2 years ago, please.
So, I was just enlightened to a bit of the jewish culture. Apparently between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is when God judges everyone. Gulp. It's not that I'm nervous, it's just that I'm freaking the fuck out. I can usually tell when I'm about to shit a horseshoe, and I'm feeling a little constipated. It's like this warmth in the middle of my chest. Normally I would think it's a heart attack but I can tell that its not. It's like a growing warmth, but it's a hollow warmth, so it's not warming me. Its actually just pushing outwards on the inside of my body. I think it's stress related. I think I'm freaking out. I'm not really, I'm actually calm and collected and I really understand what's going on right now. It's just that everything is taking so long. Every hour and day drips down into a puddle on the floor making it a little closer to the shark infested pool that I have to dive into on wednesday.
Wednesday, why does it have to be Wednesday.
I can't actually type that word without it reading Wed-Nes-Day in my head. Wednesday. Wednesday. Dammit that's annoying.
I wish I could write about something better. Like, I don't know, kittens. I mean I could, but I don't have any new ground breaking research. Lena? Any ground breaking research about kittens? Kittens and pox? Kenz? Kittens and Benzene? Lena? Is what I just said incorrect? I'm sure you'll tell me. Brendo- I ignored your call tonight, I'm sorry. I was playing video games. I was being chased by the Dahaka! It was scary. I will call you tomorrow. Carter- you suck wang. heh. wang. update your blog. Just because I haven't doesn't mean this war is over. I'm just a guerilla. Relatedly (is that a word), to anyone else: If you know how to make my face look like Che Guevara on that t-shirt image, it would be much appreciated. We're making "free jamie" t-shirts.
So. Yeah.
Oh my god, I just farted and it smells so bad. God, I hope lizzie can't smell that shit. I didnt' actually shit, that was like 2 years ago, please.
So, I was just enlightened to a bit of the jewish culture. Apparently between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is when God judges everyone. Gulp. It's not that I'm nervous, it's just that I'm freaking the fuck out. I can usually tell when I'm about to shit a horseshoe, and I'm feeling a little constipated. It's like this warmth in the middle of my chest. Normally I would think it's a heart attack but I can tell that its not. It's like a growing warmth, but it's a hollow warmth, so it's not warming me. Its actually just pushing outwards on the inside of my body. I think it's stress related. I think I'm freaking out. I'm not really, I'm actually calm and collected and I really understand what's going on right now. It's just that everything is taking so long. Every hour and day drips down into a puddle on the floor making it a little closer to the shark infested pool that I have to dive into on wednesday.
Wednesday, why does it have to be Wednesday.
I can't actually type that word without it reading Wed-Nes-Day in my head. Wednesday. Wednesday. Dammit that's annoying.
I wish I could write about something better. Like, I don't know, kittens. I mean I could, but I don't have any new ground breaking research. Lena? Any ground breaking research about kittens? Kittens and pox? Kenz? Kittens and Benzene? Lena? Is what I just said incorrect? I'm sure you'll tell me. Brendo- I ignored your call tonight, I'm sorry. I was playing video games. I was being chased by the Dahaka! It was scary. I will call you tomorrow. Carter- you suck wang. heh. wang. update your blog. Just because I haven't doesn't mean this war is over. I'm just a guerilla. Relatedly (is that a word), to anyone else: If you know how to make my face look like Che Guevara on that t-shirt image, it would be much appreciated. We're making "free jamie" t-shirts.
So. Yeah.
Monday, October 03, 2005
I gave a bunch of head to a guy named T-Bone.
Ah. The internet has returned. The sweet smell of procrastination and unproductivity mixed with BO as I sit in front of my computer without showering. In the time since my internet has left me, I have been up and I have been DOWN. Oh sweet blogger audience, let me recount to you the past month of my life.
I moved out, moved in, missed a cable appt, auditioned for a show, went to jail, auditioned for a movie, went to rehearsal, did improv and cooked a lovely dinner of chicken marsala and roasted asparagus.
huh.
one of these things is not like the others.
Everything is ok. I have to do my homework now. My return to blogging is really mundane, but I just don't have time.
Kemosabe Out.
I moved out, moved in, missed a cable appt, auditioned for a show, went to jail, auditioned for a movie, went to rehearsal, did improv and cooked a lovely dinner of chicken marsala and roasted asparagus.
huh.
one of these things is not like the others.
Everything is ok. I have to do my homework now. My return to blogging is really mundane, but I just don't have time.
Kemosabe Out.
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