"I always thought you were a dick"

I have heard that phrase manyt imes in my life. I haven't yet pin pointed a reason as to why. It's either due to my social anxiety, my shyness, my inability to make or enjoy crappy small talk, or that I used to walk around campus with headphones on. Whatever the cause most people find that I am, in fact, not that much of a dick when they get to know me.

Yes, I know that I am a bit of a dick from time to time and I can be more of a bastard a lot. But, in general, people find that I am a pretty likebale guy when they get a chance to find out more about me. I guess I can take a little stock in that.

On the hand, have you ever met one of those people that seems to know everyone and, at first glance, everyone seems to like them? But once you talk to people about them or get to know them you realize they are just huge bullshitters? Like they have a wicked Eddie Haskel vibe and no one really considers them a friend? They know everybody but don't really know anyone? Those people?

You know. Dicks. Bitches. Whatever you want to call them. People with emotional problems, usually, who desperately want everyone to like them but do the bare minimum to actually know people or gain their trust and loyalty.

I can't stand people like that. Pretty much I live my life in a way that people know when I want to know them because I find things out about them and remember those things. If I don't know you, I don't know you. I feel a little lucky that I will not die with a few people wondering whether we were friends or not.

I am not your rolling wheels

So I have decided to grit my teeth and save for a new car. I figured out a monthly budget that should allow me to place a grand into savings a month. Over the next 6 months allowing me to save the required 6 thousand I need to put 10-15k down on a new car. With my decent credit and my crappy car as trade I think I can finance a new car, priced around 23-24 thousand, for about $350 a month on a 36 months plan at around 8% interest rate.

The 2 cars I am looking to test drive would be the new Civic Si and the brand spanking new Mazdaspeed3.

Now the Civic is a very well reviewed car. I have ridden in a couple new Civics (no Si's) and have found them to have a level of fit and finish and build quality belaying their retail value. I like the looks of the standard models quite a bit and the looks of the Si even more. The 197 bhp 2.0 liter four with is very tempting. Honda makes strong large bore 4 cylinders and I have always thought it might be cool to drive a high revving car for once. The included 6 speed tranny is something of a rarity in this price market. All in all a very cool and well revied car that has been on my list since it's release last year.

Now for everything that excites me about the Si, the 3 ups the anty to an almost pre-pubescent orgasm level.

The regular Mazda 3 5 door is a car I have been eye-ing for a few years now. I really like the looks and value of them. I have a thing for hatches, especially, quick hatches. So the Mazdaspeed version is prety much everything I am looking for.

268 hp 2.3L 4 cyclinder with direct injection?

Check.

14.5 psi of turbocharged boost?

Check.

6 speed manual transmission?

Check.

18 inch wheels?

Check.

Limited slip differential and traction control?

Check.

All for 23k?

Check.

I jave fell in love. All I need is the test drive and the required cash and I will have to buy one.

No question.

The budget allows me a conservative level of money per month for food AND gas AND spnending while allowing me to put away the required 250 month to add up to the one grand level I need while giving me a $185 dollar buffer of left over money a month in case I need to buy something extra.

Should work if I pursue due diligence.

For the ability to drive a turbo car again? I will jump through more hoops.

A newfound interest in Massachusetts

So I have made a timeline. A date at which I will start looking for new employment if my current job hasn't changed. Not that there is anything wrong with my current job. My boss reads this blog from time to time so I feel the need to elaborate.

It is more that as I quickly approaching that magic state of age known as "30" I feel the need to mold my life and career into something of significance. So, as the demise of X's remakes my current employment at Nickelodeon into soemthing of a flux state I tend to start thinking of the future. I am currently holding down to jobs here at Nick: digitla effects artist and assistant recording studio engineer. Keeps me pretty busy.

The rub being I do not know how long until the effects team ramps back up with another show requiring the amount of work the X's did. I do not know if it ever will. I also never planned on pursuing an audio engineer or editor as a career. I was confident to leave that to fine folks I know like TeaCake and ResidentGirlfriend.

I have to think about maybe leaving this holy grail of places of employment and seek out a path somewhere else. Maybe give up animation in general and go the post house route.

Who knows?

I have given myself 6 months to see how Nick is shaping up and decided from there.

The level of uncertainty in my life as of now has led me to once again question my being here. In California. How well would I be doing if I had moved to Boston in 2003 and went about freelanceing as an Illustrator?

How well would I do if I did that now?

Seems like a crazy idea. Then again so did up and moving to California in 2003 with nowhere to live and no contacts. And that worked out after a while.

All I am saying is, this seems to be some crazy transition period in my life. Don't get all freaked out if I am gone, living somewhere else, in a couple years. You never know what's going to happen. Hell, I didn't think my life would be where it is now this time last year. I think I was just trying to stay awake after working 12 hours.

throwing eyes of copper

So a friend of mine, who shall be nameless, is going through something rather hard and perosnal right now. So personal in fact that the number of people who know what is actually going on can be counted on perhaps one hand. This friend is very dear to my heart. If anyone who knows me have ever heard me talk about him I usually make mention of my want to run through walls if asked. That's how much I owe this guy.

Anyway, I still am not on the list of people who have known him for very long. Luckily there are others who do not know. We enact a kind of council of concern for our friend.

I have been respectful of the fact that this guy doesn't want people to know right now and has aksed for privacy. So I haven't pushed around looking for the answer. In fact, some poeple close to me know and I haven't yet bothered them for info. I know it will come out whenever the time is right and then I'll understand.

My problem is some gossipy fucks I know from work know. Because they seemingly can't stay out of shit that's none of their godammed business, claiming "concern" for their "friend" who I have heard badmouthed by them on occasion. This angers me because people can't bew fucking respectful to someone they claim to be friends with AND these people who are not good people and should not know jack about this situation know over people who have been friend with this person for upwards of 8-10 years.

Know this you gossip mongering whores.

If I find out you told anyone else...

If this spreads around without my friend's consent because of you...

I will cut your fucking tongues out. Don't tempt me. I'm way crazier than most people give me credit for.

look what happened

So my friend, EmoGuy, left town.

Finally after years of talking about it, he left Rochester to pursue the final leg of his higher education at SUNY Stonybrook outside NYC. And I couldn't be happier.

I met Jer shortly before I left college. He was a new friend to some of my old friends in my home town. I kept hearing about how I had to meet this "Doofey" kid. That we'd get along. We met and get along we did. Mostly because Jer was actually interested in talking about books and comics and movies over the normal discourse I would have with my friends. Not to say that my friends are not intellectual, hardly the case, but Jer goes a bit beyond that and I enjoyed convewrsing with him over a beer or two.

When I first met Jer he didn't drink. He would occassionally, if the mood struck, buy a 12 pack of something girly like Mike's Hard Lemonade or some Orange alco-pop and drink the entire case. And then puke. It was a cycle which we all enjoyed.

After he turned 21, he found Lady Alcohol and also Jesus. Which was nice that I could chat with him at the pub over a pint though I often had to chastise him for bringing religion into the fray. See, I love a good theological discussion now and again but not over beers and not when one person is trying to convert me. Or wake me up as I am a lasped Catholic? Well, whatever.

I think at some point something replaced Jesus in Jer's life. Emo? Pussy? Pursuit of a better job and a better running car.

Jer is one of the people I have kept best contact with since moving to California. Mainly due to his use of computers and the internet. AIM makes a great substitute for long distance phone calls. And he is the only one who has visited me in LA. Albeit he was out here for a family obligation but he did make the bus trek from Monterey to Hollywood to hang for a few days before flying back east.

I was excited to no end when Jer started attending the local community college shortly before I left Rochester. His brain is just too big and thirsty for knowledge, like on oversized Brawny paper towel wadded into his head, for him to not pursue higher learning.

As you can imagine, the fact that his academic pursuits have gone as far as to take him away from Rochester to a real "sleep-over" school is a much bigger deal to me. I alway saw great promise in Jer as a writer (his chosen exercise) yet the drudgery and malaise of Rochester often cut him short. I understand, looking back, how hard it is to spend time writing when you work 40 hours a week during the summer and want to spend your precious few hours off and awake out in the nice weather. I also understand how even the winter, which would be a great excuse to spend days cooped up and writing can leadn to the dreaded cabin fever and force a body out of doors to cope with "real life" for a while. I also understand the problems of having friends whose dreams are far more plebian and they strive for homeownership and boat ownership, side by side with a girl they will spend the rest of their lives with. They usually don't understand when you skip a bar jaunt to stay home and write or draw.

Now Jer is far from all that and able to spend more time in his chosen life pursuit but also surrounded more by people who are doing quite the same thing. I am glad. As I said earlier, Jer has great promise as a writer, I have alwasy seen that. But liek I always told him, you need to finihs more things to know how good you truly can be. That applies to me. It applies to him. It applies to life in general.

So, here's to you, Jeremy Taylor. Go find that life we've always talked about. Like I said all those few years ago in the back of an El Camino or on the shore of a great lake (or wherever it was) if I never see you again and you are off chasing your dreams it will make me just as happy as if you were right down the block.

We're always a phone call away.

Fuck you, Ray Kroc

So I have been on a kick lately trying to eat a bit more health consciously than I have been as of late. I lost a lot of weight after riding my bike to work, post DUI, for 6 months. But then I got busy and got on a kick of eating out and eating often and, more importantly, eating bad. So, after a little scare with some gained weight (which turned out to be some weird fluke - like a weekend bought of water weight or a broken scale or something) I decided to get a little healthier.

So I've been feasting on things like yogurt for breakfast, protein energy bars, granola, fruit, veggie patties, and low fat frozen dinners. While still going to the gym.

I got sick over the last few weeks so my gym routine became sort of sporatic to non-existent for a time. But last night I dragged my loafy ass back down to Sherman Oaks for another go at muscle building routine.

After a failed trip to Box Bros. and a 45 minute commute from Burbank due to bad traffic on the 134 and bad driving decisions made by me and ToughChick, we finally made it to the gym. Late.

I worked out quick since I need to get back inot this slowly and not injure myself. I did my usual 20 minutes of running followed by 10 minutes of walking-while-waiting-for-ToughChick-to-finish-on-the-eliptical. Then proceeded with a good biceps routine. After I finished my last set of Preacher Curls and ToughChick finished her ab routine, we headed back to the car. I like to follow up my workouts with a refreshing Robek's smoothie on my way out of the Sherman Oaks Galleria. But it was so late that they were closed. Depriving me of the refreshment and nourishment I so craved.

After I dropped ToughChick off I struggled with the thought of cooking when I got home. It was rapidly approaching 10 pm at this point. I finally caved and stopped at the McDonald's drive-thru. I ordered some chicken nuggets because it's really the only thing I ever miss from Mickie D's menu and a shake for protein? Or something? I don't know I didn't feel like a soda.

While waiting in the line of cars to pay I dropped a dollar under the seat. While searching for it myf oot slipped off the brake and I rolled, very gently, into the car in front of me. The woman got out and so did I to inspect the damage. On her car, not mine. I don't care about my car at this point. She first tried to blame several scratches on me that were from above my bumper line. I icle ypointed out a tiny blemish that could be from me but would wash and buff out. She said we should exchange information. To which I was confused.

So we both paid for our food. I got out and handed her my insurance card. She tried to hand her's over and I refused.

"I don't need your info. I'm not going to file a claim for this."

I explained that if her deductible is anything over, say, 50 dollars that it would be foolish to file a claim for her. To which she answered:

"Oh I won't either. Just being safe."

I walked back to my car utterly confused.

I hit her going maybe 1 foot per minute. There was no actual damage to her car. Filing a claim would only result in her having to pay out of pocket and then her insurance premiums being raised. She had food in the car just like me that was getting colder by the moment. She had to bring said food home to her family. She admitted to the uselessness of filing a claim with the insurance company. Yet she still had us pull over and exchange info?

Why?

Why not just go home?

So after that I drove home and parallel parked on my street. While doing so my hand slipped off the gear shift and punched the shake in my cup holder. Spraying chocolate shake all over the interior of my car. So I parked behind my buidling, ran in the drop off my stuff, grabbed paper towels and Armorall and cleaned the inside of my car. Mainly in an effort to not have my car smell like melted ice cream and rotten milk this morning.

I finally got to eat my food at 10 oclock and it was cold.

After that I gave up and watched Arrested Development Seasn 3 in bed until I fell asleep.

Huh?

I was standing on my balcony last night, minding my own business, when a pigeon flew up, landed on the railing, took a dump, and then flew away.

There's always been tons of pigeon poop on our balcony railing. We just learn to live with it. But the fact that it seemed like a bir flew up specifically to take a dump on the railing is disconcerting. Especially because I was standing right there. Almost like the pigeon did it out of spite.