Vita Testimonium

A list...

2008-07-16T08:05:00.000-07:00

Just of things. A list of things that have nothing to do with anything coming up in 5 weeks or so. This is.. just a list of stuff. (listening to: PA D&D Podcast #7)

Alexi Casilla Minnesota Twins Home Jersey, #25

Ratchet and Clank PSP Bundle

Scoundrel's Holster

Battlefield: Bad Company

In-car GPS Unit

New second premolar

Twins Season Tickets

New computer

iPhone 3G

Complete Armadeaddon Bundle

Just a thought.

END TRANSMISSION...

Monthly Update

2008-07-07T14:18:00.000-07:00

I thought I was going to be better about this. Ho hum. (listening to "As Lovers Go" by Dashboard Confessional)

Things that have happened since last we met:

- WENT TO VEGAS

This was a lot of fun. Spent 4 days in mid-June in the hot, hot *dry* Vegas heat. Spent time with Brother and Wife, and enjoyed some excellent food courtesy of Das Kapital. Also enjoyed The Best Burgers in the World. Gambling was a cruel mistress, robbing most of our party of their beloved funds, but we all had a great time playing Keno and Poker, so overall, the trip was a success. Side note- We saw a show called "Bite," and it changed my life forever. It deserves its own blog post by itself, so maybe someday, if you're all really good, I'll tell you about it. Until then, though...

- BECAME AN UNCLE

Yes, Brother and Wife had a baby. Camri Marie came and turned "Mom and Dad" into "Grandma and Grandpa," and turned "Actor Brother Madjai" into "Uncle Madjai." Little Camri will be spoiled and turned into a gamer, mark my words. Prepare yourself, young one. Pictures available on the link above.

- GOT CAST IN BAREFOOT IN THE PARK

I spoke in my last post about auditions for Barefoot in the Park. I got called back, and then offered the role of Paul Bratter. For those of you familiar with the film version, this is the role played by Robert Redford. Perhaps you've heard of him? Performance dates are on the website.

- BECAME AN INTERNATIONALLY KNOWN MOVIE STAR

Ok... still working on this one...

END TRANSMISSION...

Think We'll Get There By Midnight?

2008-06-09T11:31:00.001-07:00

Baby, we're gonna be up five-hunny by midnight. Vegas, Baby! VEGAS! (listening to: "King of the Road")

3 days and counting until the Great Vegas Vacation of '08. Work is crawling along at an unacceptably slow pace, all things considered. I will be in America's Playground for 3 days, all told, so please sacrifice something to the gambling gods in my honor. Thank you.

Busy, Busy weekend. Played a CSz show in St. Michael at 3:30AM on Saturday morning, followed by a 10:30am callback for Barefoot in the Park. And that was just the beginning of that day. Plus, this vacation has been on the horizon since December of last year, so... it weighs heavily on my mind. On the bright side, the callback went well, and you all will be able to see me take on Robert Redford in November at the Mounds Theatre in St. Paul. Also, if you live in the St. Cloud area, you can see me in the winter of '09 in that city. Stay tuned for more dates.

If anyone wants any Vegas souvenirs, speak now. Otherwise, you will all have to bask in my riches upon my return.

END TRANSMISSION...

Covered In Bees!

2008-05-28T09:46:00.000-07:00

So, um... yes. This is all true. (listening to: "Company" from the Company Broadway Soundtrack)

Eddie Izzard graced humble Minneapolis last night with a two-hour show. Casey and Dana joined Natalie and I for dinner at Das Kapital prior to the festivities for a meal of epic proportions. I'll try not to harp on this too much, but you really can't beat 14 oz of steak with a side serving of lobster mac and cheese with a couple drinks when friends are at the table. Even if it does cost $265 before tip. True.

Mr. Izzard himself was in rare form, sans dress, but still retaining his quick wit and long-distance memory. I personally think that his style of stand up is the best, because you couldn't steal his jokes even if you wanted to. It's all in the delivery, and his incessant, nigh-on murderous dedication to a bit. Elephants, Giraffes and Squirrels all were given their proper dues last night, and a nod was even given to several of his past routines, though he strayed far shy of going back to the well. If you have the means, I highly recommend catching him in a town near you.

This weekend going into early next week is audition-central, so keep good thoughts aimed toward the midwest, all you non-Minnesotans. One of these is for a new TV show looking for a host- which would be awfully nice, I don't mind saying.

In any event, may all good things come to your plates.

END TRANSMISSION...

5 Year Reunion, Done Our Way

2008-05-19T10:15:00.000-07:00

Last night was some-beer-larious. (listening to: "But It's Better If You Do" by Panic! At the Disco)

Ahh, wonderful Sioux Falls. So nice to go back. Five years have passed since The Family(tm) has broken apart and scattered themselves across the country and last weekend we were reunited for the first time as a whole since... well, probably since graduation. (Biggy's wedding was close, but Zoltan's wife was not there...)

Gemini and his wife RedTeacher were there with their new baby, and every other member of The Family(tm) took a moment to soak that in. It was actually very comical to see everyone notice that one of our crew was now a Daddy, and while no one could be happier for him, I think we all started to feel our age a bit.

The world got smaller as apparently Gemini and Twink had e-mailed back and forth a few years ago, about something MySpace related that would take far too much time and effort to explain here. Suffice it to say, minds were blown.

Also, Friday night saw the Great Blackout of 2008, as Twink, Orion, Biggy and Kid all squared off to see how much they could get the Madjai to drink. A daunting task, I'd say they managed to pull it off with surprising alacrity. Their diabolical plan included such tactics as "I'm buying this round!" (which everyone knows is nigh-unresistable) and also "I'll name an animal, you drink like it!" (which I'm told was performed admirably, though I'll leave it to the tape to prove that) The latter showcased fan-favorites "Cheetah" and "Aborigine." I guess you had to be there.

Interesting to note is that the Alma Mater has begun celebrating its Sesquicentennial... keep in mind that the school was founded in 1860. Apparently, time passes much faster on campus. Which would explain a lot of my Senior year.

I'm told more people read this than was previously expected, so expect more updates as I am guilted into sharing exploits of a Minneapolis Actor.

Stay tuned.

END TRANSMISSION...

Call My Agent. I'll Be In My Trailer

2008-04-02T08:01:00.000-07:00

Seriously, I'm not cut out for this. (listening to: "Movin' Out" by Billy Joel)

So, I had a commercial shoot yesterday evening for a training video. I'm playing Mr. Obsessed. He's obsessed with the latest technology, and has to have it all. In his own words:

Gotta love my gadgets! I don't know where I'd be without them. I need the lastest technology to help me stay connected. I have it all. I just can't get enough.

I arrive on location, and there's no one there. I call the contact, and get no answer. So, I call the agency. My agent assures me I'm where I need to be, and the crew is across the street filming in a different location. So, I go over there, and some guy (Mr. Uninformed) is stumbling through his line: "Paying off a debt adds 50 points to your credit score!" (yes, we know this isn't true) It takes him over a half-dozen takes to nail the line, and I'm thinking, "Wow... this guy's having a rough day."

A few minutes later, we're moving across the street to the location I was told to meet them at. Another actress arrives, playing "Ms. Competitive." She's very charming, and knocks out all of her takes in about 30 minutes after everything is set up. Very nice.

Now, an hour has gone by, and I haven't read a single line yet. I go over and over my lines, making sure I've got them down. Don't want to be Mr. Uninformed. The director announces that we're going to shoot my scene outside. It's about 42 degrees outside, and I'm in a zip-up sweater. Fantastic. But, I'm a trooper, and it's not really all that bad in the sun, so we head out. The crew sets up the shot: I come around a corner and nearly collide with the camera guy. I say my bit, and then pretend to answer my phone and walk off. Simple enough. The first problem I notice is that the camera guy is set up right between me and the sun. I can't really look into the camera without squinting, and the light is making my eyes water like Niagara Falls in the rainy season. Director says action.

Take One: "Oh, Sorry. I love my Gadgets. I love... shit."
Take Two: "Oh, Sorry. Gadgets are... fuck."
Take Three: "Oh, Sorry. Gotta love my gadgets. I don't know where I'd be without my gadge-- dammit."
Take Four: "Oh, Sorry. ... Son of a bitch!"

After what seems like an eternity of this, the director sighs, looks at his crew and says, "Ok. Let's shoot the other lines now."

We set up and I shoot the rest of my scene in about 3 total takes. It's great, and it's in the can with no problems. Then, we go back to the gadgets scene. This time, I hit my mark, say my line, and it's spotless. At the end of the day, the director seems pleased, but I never felt worse in my life than I did for those first 8 takes.

I'm just not cut out for this.

UPDATE: The production company has sent me the raw tape of my many, many takes. You can watch them here.

END TRANSMISSION...

Shameless Self-Promotion

2008-03-05T15:05:00.000-08:00

Buy Now! Don't Wait! (listening to: 2/15/08 Penny Arcade Podcast)

So, I finally finished up my most recent project, and am ready to share it with the world!!

If YOU want to sport (heh heh.. get it?) the latest in unofficial merchandise from one of the greatest TV Shows of all time, now's your chance!

E-Mail me for prices and more info!

(note: the lighting in this picture kind of washes out the text, but it is actually very sharp and clear on the shirt)

END TRANSMISSION...

11 x 11

2008-02-05T09:56:00.000-08:00

= 121. (listening to: "Let Go" by Frou Frou)

121st post. I love squares.

Couple of housekeeping things.
1) Come see After Ashley. I'm in it, and I may have mentioned this before, but this cast is one of the most talented as a whole that I've ever worked with. It's a joy to work with these people, and I think it shows on stage. It Runs Feb 8 - 23 at the Bedlam (link above). Let me know if you're coming. There is a short talkback after each show, so if you want to stay for that, we can get all intellectual about art. Neat, huh?

2) My friend Hall is getting married. August 30, I think. I wish him and his fiancee Cathy all the best. I'm really happy for them.

Alright, moving on now. Fair warning: I'm going to hide layered meaning in my following passage, which is seemingly about politics. It is, and it isn't. That's all.

There's a video circulating about the interwebs of a music video made from Barack Obama's "Yes We Can" speech. It's pretty moving; if you haven't seen it it yet, I recommend it. There's a passage in particular that I think holds true for us as a country.

We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can withstand the power of ... voices calling for change.

We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics who will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope. But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.

For when we have faced down impossible odds; when we've been told that we're not ready, or that we shouldn't try, or that we can't, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can.

It has been suggested in recent times that those who seek to further the mission, and therefore the cause, of Sen. Obama are doing so because it is "in fashion" or "popular." That is not the case. There comes a time in every person's life when they look back on the mistakes they've made, the life they thought they wanted, and seek change. They bear their arms and show the scars they've earned and they beg those who will listen not to have earned these scars in an effortless pursuit of a dream deferred. Yes, we've made mistakes. We've done things we shouldn't have, and we've borne losses that were too painful to mention. But every day that passes that an attempt isn't made to rectify that, to show the lengths we're willing to go to in order to make things better the second time around, is a wasted day.

Yes. We. Can. Sen Obama speaks of a fractured nation. A divided nation, roiled in the two-party system so heavily, so desperately, that it begins to look like two different countries pressed together. It's not so. It is our differences that make us who we are as one. We feed off of them, breathe easier because of them, knowing we are not all the same person. Our individuality is the very cause of our great union.

To those who would say that the differences are too much, too great, and cannot be overcome, I say Yes We Can. To those who would say that we've gone too far to come back, broken too many bridges and opened too many wounds and cannot heal, I say Yes We Can. To those who would say that this union, this country cannot stand together and say that no matter what happens we are One, I say Yes We Can.

We're not perfect. We're not even close. But we are mighty. And we are compassionate. And we are willing to show that to anyone willing to listen. We are Ready. Don't give up on us.

END TRANSMISSION...

What Happens?

2008-02-01T13:11:00.000-08:00

I know the answer. (listening to: TL5Y)

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

END TRANSMISSION...

Well.

2008-01-28T20:10:00.001-08:00

(listening to: "Fight Test" by The Flaming Lips)

That was not what I imagined.

END TRANSMISSION...

The Coffee Shop

2008-01-18T06:52:00.000-08:00

A short story. (listening to: "The Next Ten Minutes" from The Last 5 Years Soundtrack)

He stood outside the door staring at his reflection in the glass. He willed his hand to the handle, but it remained stubbornly at his side. A clutch gathered at his throat, and he swallowed it down. He could feel his heart beating slow and hard at every extremity in his body. He inhaled sharply and held it, gathering every fiber of his being to chill the fuck out. As he began to slowly exhale, a woman came up from behind him, opened the door and held it open for Him to enter. He stared at her, hating her more than anything else in his world at that moment. He forced a small smile and walked inside, legs numb to any feeling of motion.

Cruelly, the small shop was nearly empty. No place to hide, no crowd to get lost in. He spotted Her right away, of course. She sat near a far window, hair lit up by the cold sunlight pouring in, God's follow spot focused tightly on His star performer. He immediately thought to turn and run, to claim car trouble, or some other emergency. His mind was willing, but His body was weak and didn't heed the call. It was too late anyway, She had looked up and seen Him.

A weak smile came forcibly to Her face and He nodded slightly to Her. She wasn't more than a few dozen feet away, but every step felt like a mile. Like opposing magnets, the closer He got, the harder it was to continue. Her gaze never faltered from Him, and it seemed to freeze on Her face as though a great effort of will was being made to maintain the upward turn of Her lips. Finally, mercifully, His journey was over and He pulled a chair out to sit down on. Gingerly He placed himself down, and set an envelope on the table between them. A moment of silence that was just a breath too long passed between them.

"Hi." She said.
"Hi." Again, a too-long pause.
"How are you?"
"Fine."
"Good."
"You?"
"Fine."
"Good."

His eyes screamed at her. Don't do this. Say something important. Tell me to stay. Tell me you're sad. Angry. Feel Something. Please. Please. Please. But nothing. He sighed heavily and pushed the envelope across the table. The flap fell open revealing papers folded back upon themselves, and a few bursts of color- pictures of better times.

"I figured you would want these." He had to concentrate very hard to pull His hand away.
"Oh. Thank you." She took it off the table and placed it without even so much as a glance to its contents into her bag. As the envelope gained distance from Him, He felt a tearing sensation. Hundreds of tiny threads were being pulled and broken, their tails whipping Him in the face, arms, chest, belly, groin, legs, feet...
"Did you want something?" Her question slammed Him in the center of His trunk. Yes, God, I want something. I want you. I want to go back to when-- He looked up at her and she was gazing towards the counter. Oh.
"No. I'm... I'm fine."
"Ok."

Another too-long pause. She made a motion. No...

"Well, I have to go."
"Already? I just-"
"I know, but I can't.. I have to be somewhere."
"Oh. Alright. Well, when will I see you again."
A look. An opportunity. Too late. Gone.
"I don't know. I'll call you."
"Ok."
Another look. Another opportunity. Too late. Gone. She stepped past Him, hesitated and turned around. She stepped close to Him and looked up in His eyes.

[goodbye]
[pleasedontgo]
[ihaveto]
[youdonthaveto]
[ineedto]
[iloveyou]
[pleasedontsaythat]
[imeanitiloveyou]
[youdontyoucantyoudontknowwhatthatmeans]
[ifeelithereandnow]
[youonlythinkyoudo]
[no]
[goodbye]

The look fell away and she turned and left. Her steps quick and unsure, like a run, but lost in the motion. He didn't know how, but He was sitting again. Within a moment, His world clouded up like He was looking through thick glass. Shapes became only vague colors around Him, and He felt the drops on His hands.

"Goodbye."

END TRANSMISSION...

A New Year, A New Team

2008-01-14T14:50:00.000-08:00

Go Swarm! (listening to: "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC)

Saturday saw my favorite professional sports team extend their season to a dominant 2-0. I'm talking, of course, about the Minnesota Swarm, part of the National Lacrosse League. Joined by my fellow Season Ticket holders, we took the Xcel by storm as we finished off the Toronto Rock 11-4. Nick Patterson had an unbelievable 40 saves, fully half of which were what I would humbly denote as "Completely Awesome." If you live anywhere in the Twin Cities Metro Area, you owe it to yourself to catch a Swarm game this season. There's only 7 left, so... do it. Even if you don't like sports, there's not much to not like about this game. That is all.

After Ashley rehearsals are in full swing now, and I'm not far off when I say that this is likely the most talented cast I've worked with in... well, probably ever. Rehearsals go very well, and we're constantly pushing the bounds of the script and finding new things to play with. It's a real joy to share the stage with these folks, and I urge you to come see this show. It promises to be quite the evening. You can find showtimes and dates on my website.

Sabrina Fair rehearsals have not yet begun, but I'm looking forward to that show with nearly as much fervor. 2008 is starting well artistically for me, and I can only hope that continues through the spring and all the way through.

In other news, it's somewhat overwhelming to me how so much and so little can happen all at once. And how draining it can be to wait.

END TRANSMISSION...

To Everything, There is a Season

2008-01-09T11:03:00.001-08:00

Turn, turn, turn. (listening to: Really? You can't guess?)

Listen, let me preface this by saying that I'm fully aware that it's people's job to try and cheer their friends up when they go through tough times. It's part of the job description, and I get that. But dammit, sometimes it's just time to feel shitty.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, or.. mean, but saying "You'll get over it," or "It'll all work out for the best" is surprisingly not helpful at this exact moment in time. In fact, it only serves to show me just how ludicrous I'm being. What some people need is just a validation that the pain they're going through is OK, and that to return to (or, perhaps just start being) the happy, shiny people that they once were is not doing the circumstance that caused the pain in the first place any justice at all.

We're marked by the pain we endure. We display scars, we show injuries, we take pride in the righteous battles we've fought. These are not things we are ashamed of, or take lightly. Allow me to draw an analogy.

Would you, given the opportunity, go to a solider fighting on the front lines and say, "Why are you so sad? Things will get better!" Would you find a terminally ill patient with 6 months left to live and console them with, "It could have been three!" I hope you are shaking your head.

There's no "socially acceptable mourning time." If you start to get sick of someone being sad about something, go find something else to do. Make a pie, shovel snow, do some long division. But don't try and make the person feel better by showing them a future colored with rosy hues and lollipops. Odds are, all they see is a future without the thing they've lost.

END TRANSMISSION...

Eli's Coming

2008-01-07T14:08:00.000-08:00

Hide your heart, girl. (listening to: Nothing)

DAN
Eli's coming.

CASEY
Eli?

DAN
From the Three Dog Night song.

CASEY
Yes.

DAN
Eli's something bad. A darkness.

CASEY
"Eli's coming, hide your heart girl."
Eli's an inveterate womanizer. I think
you're getting the song wrong.

DAN
I know I'm getting the song wrong, but
when I first heard it, that's what I
always thought it meant, and things
stick with you that way.

They say it's always calmest before
the storm. That's not true. I'm a
serious sailor. It isn't calm before
the storm. Stuff happens.

Eli's coming.

She walked, but she never got away.

END TRANSMISSION...

Syncopated Hextrameter

2008-01-04T13:13:00.000-08:00

Or, you know, not. (listening to: "As Is" by Ani DiFranco)

In much the way
That an old man
Both loves and fears
A small child
So too a painful
Heart feeds and shrinks
On both the thought
Of its former bounty
And the reality
Of its loss

I heard tell of a man long ago
Who wandered from place to place.
Through heat of winter and cutting snow,
For a town to hide his face.

Many years he walked and rode,
Never finding what he lost.
For you cannot find on any road
Reprieve from such high cost.

He died alone and no one came
To lay lilies 'round his urn.
If only he'd known he'd die the same:
A stranger 'round every turn.
- Sean Williams

END TRANSMISSION...

I Hate My Job

2008-01-03T14:04:00.000-08:00

I may have mentioned this before, but it's true. (listening to: my own breathing)

Seriously. I work with some of the most incompetent, lazy, mindless bunch of pass-the-buck douchesacks I've ever had the dubious honor of coming across. I'm filling out my employee self-evaluation, and It's really hard not to put down "Because no one else does their job" for every category.

I've decided that I'm asking for a 10% raise and a title change along with a change of responsibilities here by my review in March. If that doesn't happen, I'm out the door.

I'm sick of the sight of this place, to be honest. Some days I'm afraid I'll go berserk, throw the Country A-through-K rack out in the street and go work in a Virgin Megastore.

Amen, Rob.

I wish she'd call.

END TRANSMISSION...

Oh, Epimethius, I Get It Now

2008-01-02T14:40:00.000-08:00

You're just like us. Your brother is the odd one. (listening to: "A Part of That" from the Original Cast Recording of The Last 5 Years)

Some of you may not know this story. Allow me to entertain you.

Long ago, Zeus entrusted the creation of all living things to a pair of brothers. Epimethius and Prometheus. When Epimethius finally got around to creating mankind, he found that he had used up all the good stuff and didn't have anything left from the box of "Good" to give. Prometheus climbed up Mount Olympus in the cover of darkness and stole fire from the Gods and gave it to Man.

The next morning when Zeus saw what had happened, he ordered that Prometheus be bound to a rock and a crow would come and eat out his liver every day until eternity, forcing him to be under eternal pain. To Epimethius, he gave a beautiful woman. Some of you may have heard of her. Pandora.

You see, the interesting thing about this story is that Epimethius ran out of good qualities to give to man, so Hesiod has us inheriting intelligence (fire). The meaning is clear. Humans, on the whole, are not good creatures. We're just intelligent. Aware.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe we weren't better off without that gift. And maybe that Prometheus got what he deserved.

END TRANSMISSION...

The Transient, Impermanent Nature of Things

2008-01-01T09:43:00.000-08:00

10 CLEAR
20 PRINT "HELLO WORLD!"
30 PRINT ""
40 PRINT ""
50 PRINT "... OR WHOEVER."
60 END
(listening to: "Natalie Portman" by Ozma)

A new year, and new beginnings. I suppose that I, like most people around this time of year, begin to get all nostalgic and contemplative on the nature of the world around us when confronted with the reality of another year of existence. Why such importance placed on a single day? Why do people from hundreds and thousands of miles around gather in Gotham to watch a giant crystal ball slowly descend on a rail to a lit sign with a number on it that means no more or less than the number that was there 365 days ago?

Is it hope? Do people associate a new year with a clean slate? 'Cause there isn't one. You don't get to start over, you don't get reprieve from the things you've done or the people you've hurt. It's just another day. Like yesterday. And tomorrow. Today is New Year's Day, and while I'm sitting here at work waiting for the nobody to call in, the post office that has my package that I've been awaiting for over a week now is closed. No mail today. Before the internet, before the modem and the FAX machine, this was a day of NO communication from the outside world. Why? What's the point? Why is today so special? Tomorrow, everything starts again, and the people in jail stay there, the bills you need to pay will show up, and the rent is due. Life. Moves. On. Go with it.

What's interesting about that, though? Is that nothing stays. The people you counted on the most will one day become "that person you once knew." You'll look back on pictures and stories and think about those times, and everything will always be rosy. Life's always better in the past. (And in the future, if you ask those huddled, freezing masses in front of the giant neon Cola sign.) But time catches up to us all. Your pain, your frustration and anger are as real to you as the love and peace you feel. But in a week? a year? 10 years? You'll only remember how great things used to be, and not your pain. Because you'll have new pain.

So what do we do? Are we doomed to live this doublethink for the rest of our lives? Stomping out our Orwellian existence until we shed gin-soaked tears and love Big Brother? How do you reconcile the overwhelming hope and trust in the future with the fact that according to you as an observer, things are always getting worse?

What do we do? At the moment, no one wants to know more than I do.

END TRANSMISSION...

I Don't Care What Jim Says...

2007-10-10T07:15:00.000-07:00

That is NOT the real Benjamin Franklin. I am 99% sure. (listening to: "Walking in Memphis" by Marc Cohen)

A little taste of one of my new obsessions for you all. For all the hype that The Office gets, it's underrated. Trust me. It's so brilliantly and subtly acted and written, sometimes you forget you're watching a sitcom. Go get it. /rant.

So, my little blogites, what shall we talk about today? It's been so long...

I leave for Orlando in a few days. The yearly business trip isn't to Vegas this year, which is somewhat disappointing. However, there's Disney fun to be had, and if Spike's fervor for all things Mickey is any indication, I should be in for some good times. If anyone has any suggestions for things to do while I'm there, I'm all big-black-mouse-ears.

I'm not involved in a show right now. It's so strange to be without work. This is the first time in over a year that I haven't had anything to do besides CSz, and it's unsettling. I haven't been to any auditions, granted. There hasn't been anything out there auditioning right now that interested me. Maybe that's wrong? As an actor, should I be looking for work even if I'm not into it? Just for the sake of working? Somehow that seems wrong to me, but if it means the difference between working and not working... maybe that's the way to go?

Life is very interesting right now. I feel like I'm on the verge of something very big, but it's clouded over and I can't see it. It may be just a result of me feeling like I'm in the doldrums right now even though things are going as well as I could expect them to, but I don't know... Eli's coming.

END TRANSMISSION...

Best. Birthday. Evar.

2007-08-22T08:32:00.000-07:00

OMGWTFBBQ!!11!!1!!!eleventyone! (listening to: soft explosions in the distance)

This now adorns my new sunroom in my new place. And I can officially die a happy man.

Apparently Natalie has spent the last month wrangling all of my friends into lying to me about what is happening for my birthday. Subtle plans were laid all throughout the last couple weeks, and they all came to fruition last night. Somehow, everyone ended up at my new place last night, and fun was being had, though a few people looked like they were just there because they had nothing else to do. Natalie called me up and told me that she needed to talk to me outside. So, I went outside, and there she was, standing next to the greatest arcade game ever made by man. I freaked out for a bit, and all my friends came running out of my place to share in the joy. Ten minutes later, we had my new girl plugged in, and lasers flying.

The game is great, and in really nice shape, considering it's nearly as old as I am. But the best part was just how Frank Capra the whole moment was. Nearly all of my friends had pitched in to help buy this thing for me, and I had never felt so well-liked before. It was a great feeling.

Thank you so much to everyone who made this possible, I feel truly blessed. God bless you all.

END TRANSMISSION...

Denouement

2007-08-03T15:51:00.000-07:00

As our story comes to a close... (listening to: creepy silence)

--DAY 3--
Again, we are woken up by small giggles at a time when not even the elderly should be up. This time, Natalie promises me that she won't be upset if I don't come up right away, and thanks me for plugging in her phone. I earnestly try to get back to sleep, but it's no use. I'm up.

Today's plan is to prepare for the arrival of just the inner circle of family for late lunch/dinner. Fran is scurrying about trying to make sure Harris and Jackie are taken care of, and Natalie really wants to go to Kent to see where she went to school. I'm game, so we get into the car.

It's a pleasant drive to Kent, and we pass it in quiet reverie (read: hungover headaches), punctuated by pleasant conversation (read: Natalie saying something, me saying "what?" and her deciding it's not worth repeating). When we arrive, I'm ferried around the campus, shown the pretty buildings and told the anecdotes- All standard fare when showing someone around your old campus. But this is Kent we're talking about, so everything's a little bit different. We went to the memorial, saw the sectioned off places where the students fell, and when it's warm and you're hungover, everything seems a little graver. Hearing Natalie tell the story Neil Young put to music just seemed.. I don't know. It hit me harder than I thought it would.

From Kent, we go to a local drive-in type restaurant for a sandwich called a "Salad Boy." From what I understand, it's a vegetarian's dreamboat. Personally, I could barely stomach the sight of it. It had pickles. 'Nuff said. I enjoyed my cheeseburger and a local version of Quepapas, washing it all down with a delicious peanut butter milkshake. No, Fran, I did NOT spill any in your wonderful automobile... maybe.

Now beings the portion of our tale wherein our heroes drive aimlessly along the cliffs and hills of Eastern Ohio. Natalie is really a fantastic tour guide, telling stories about each road and taking me to a place where giant birds play... or rather, used to.. before something terrible happened that no one seems to want to talk about. About an hour later, we end up at Mom's house, and she shows me pictures of young Natalie, and we watch golf, and nearly fall asleep right then and there. No time for sleeping!

One quick stop before we return to Brain and Fran's house at a pet store so Natalie can make her little happy growling noise at the puppies and kitties, and then I need to redeem my weekend with a quick purchase at Home Depot. Replacement plant holders. I mend what I reap, folks.

Finally returning back to the house, Brain has concocted roast beast which the very smell of sets angels singing on clouds far away, and I'm suddenly much less tired. We sit down to eat, and Dad is eyeing me with a somewhat auspicious eye. I aim for conversation with the man, and he's amiable and open. So far, so good.

The rest of the evening passes languidly, mostly conversation and wine sipping until the very end of the evening when Natalie, Fran, Guinevere, Brain and I all have a talk about the Summers women. Seems that they are a lively bunch, fraught with complications and neuroses. I take careful notes, realizing that not only will there be a test later, but I'm actually living it every day. This is good information for me to have, I think. The girls seem to be unerringly self-aware of their particular neediness, and there is no excuses or blame placed. It is what it is, and to be honest.. the upside far outweighs the bad.

Now it is bedtime, and this time I know that I'm getting up in 5 hours. Somehow, as I turn out the lights, I know that it was all worthwhile.

END TRANSMISSION...

Intermission

2007-07-26T12:33:00.000-07:00

I know you are all waiting with bated breath for Day 3, but I have a breaking news flash. (listening to: Massive Happiness in my Brain)

Madjai will be playing Barry Champlain in the Chameleon Theatre Circle production of Talk Radio!!

This is a GREAT show that was written by Eric Bogosian in the early 80's, and just closed on Broadway. Liev Schreiber earned a Tony nomination for his role as Barry, so naturally, he and I are now best-of-friends.

If you can make it, please, please, PLEASE come see this show. I promise you it will be awesome.

Oh, and PS- Day 3 is coming.

END TRANSMISSION...

Richfield, Part Deux

2007-07-24T15:38:00.000-07:00

Today is ACTUALLY the day I meet Francesca. (listening to: "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot)

--DAY 2--
We're woken up by the sound of high pitched laughter. I'm roused from a pretty kick-ass Sports Night dream in which I'm producing my first show, and things are getting pretty intense. But, that's neither here nor there. Natalie goes upstairs to play with the kids and tells me I can sleep if I want to. I look at the clock- 8:15am. sigh

I clean up a bit so as not to scare the little ones, and I swear I hear a ticking noise as I look at Natalie holding little Jackie in her arms. I'm introduced (yes, for the first time) to Francesca and Harris. We all lounge around for a while watching silent television in which two men in primary-colored shirts bounce around an animated house in an attempt to teach very young children colors, or weather, or some other socially useful concept. Coffee is blissfully made, and as I sip, the very curious Harris comes up to me and asks me a few questions, giggles at my answers and then runs away, only to repeat the process a few minutes later. I'm impressed at his ability to pronounce my name correctly, and I find that all three syllables sound adorable when you lisp on the last one.

Brain takes off to go and get breakfast for us, and while he's gone, Natalie plays with the kids while Fran and I talk about general getting-to-know-you stuff.

Greasy sausage gravy over eggs arrives, and I dig into the meal like it's my job. Jackie gets to eat from her high-chair next to me, and does her best to actually put food in her mouth, a task which is ultimately negligibly successful. Fran is very patient with her, though, and I swear that ticking sound gets louder as I look over at Natalie. Harris punctuates the meal by throwing a piece of sausage at my feet and then demanding orange juice (hopefully unrelated occurances), and after breakfast there's more exaggerated television, and after a while, it's nap time for the kids. At this point, it's made very clear to me that waking the children is very bad. Like Stealing Jobu's rum kind of bad. I nod and file that information for later.

Natalie and Fran dash off to run some errands, leaving Brain and I to set up for the day's festivities: Harris' big 0-3 party. Brain and Fran have bought Harris an inflatable slide for his third birthday, and it comes with its own fan to keep it inflated. This thing is a monster:

[[Picture of the inflatable giant toy]]

Brain and I give it a test run, and we also set up some Cornholing and horseshoes. Things are going smashingly, and I should have taken that as a sign that something bad was about to happen.

The women return with groceries and ice, and Brain goes off to take a shower. The girls need help carrying the 50 lbs of ice they bought down to the coolers, so I go outside. As I turn to close the front door, the doors don't line up right. I try pulling the door shut a little more forcefully with no luck. I give it one last little tug, and the door slams shut with a force never before seen by mankind. It makes a horrible, bassy booming noise and all three of us freeze as I realize what I've done. As I wait for the bat to come flying out of the batter's hands and onto my head, Fran's eyes slowly slide to the baby monitor in her hand.

Silence...

Silence...

Nope. No such luck, Madjai. The baby wails, and my heart sinks into my stomach. I've woken the baby. Pandora's box is opened, and it's my fault. I heft the two heavier bags of ice as penance for my crimes, and Atlas-like, haul them downstairs. Fran, God bless her, comes down to help me, assuring me that it's ok, and that it's not my fault, and that she thinks it's really funny. I begin to feel a bit better, but had I known then that waking the kids was the most benign of offenses I would have commit this day, I would certainly have put myself on ice.

Things are going alright until about 2:30 when Guinevere arrives, Natalie's other sister. It's almost time for the party, and people are arriving and hanging out on the deck. On this deck, they have two ornate plant hangers, which Brain has tied balloons to. I'm standing next to one of them, and as I turn to walk away, my hip hits it, and it snaps off from the deck. I'm standing there holding this hanger with the balloons still floating from it, and people start laughing. Now, I'm told that either Fran or Guin has done this before, and someone points at where the third hanger used to be. Sure enough, there's the base of the hanger still screwed to the deck. Somehow, that fails to make me feel any better.

The rest of the afternoon is lazy, most filled with me being not terrible at cornholing or horseshoeing, getting to know everyone and such regular party activites. I even spend one game of Horseshoes standing next to Dad, who is warming up to me... which is very relieving. I make my way back up the deck to chat with Mom and some of Natalie's cousins, and I'm not up there for five minutes when I proceed to break the OTHER HANGER. I'm not kidding. This could not have been written any worse. In my extreme shame, I don't even bother explaining. I just literally run inside, and close the door to the guest room. It takes about 10 minutes for Natalie to come and find me, and even she can't help from laughing. She cajoles me into rejoining the party, but I'm not ready to go back out there yet. We decide to play a quick game of darts to re-establish my confidence. Naturally, I jump out to an early and decisive lead, and with two quick LUCKY darts, Natalie takes me down. Great. Awesome. Fantastic. Super.

Slowly, the day manages to get less surreal. Natalie catches a delicious bluegill, but had already sent me inside to get her wine, so I missed it. More games, more drinking, and more fun occur. Sooner or later, we're sitting around playing Balderdash, and the drunker we get, the more fun it is. Some highlights from this game:

Tzizit - What your wife does to your tie.

What can't two people do in South Carolina at the same time? Ride a tandem bike

Misspelling the name of the person you're trying to lie about isn't very convincing.

Natalie should NEVER, EVER be trusted to read everyone's sheets with the same amount of composure.

Finally, only the Die-Hards are left, and we decide to play poker. Yes, please. The game drags on for a while, and in an attempt to get it done with and go to bed (It's 3am)... Folks, you heard it here first: I cheat. I cheat so hard. I'm talking looking through the deck to find the card I want kind of cheating. I feel less bad about it, because no one is paying enough attention to catch me.

Brain gets the mega-sweet idea to start doing shots. He pours a shot, and you have to toast with it. The toasts go around, and we all shoot this.. look.. I'm trying to find the words to describe this liquid. Here's what I got:

Imagine taking the blood of a demon and mixing it with the sweat of a maggot, fermenting it in barrels of wormwood while those barrels are smoked in the breath of the whore of Babylon. Then, once this diabolical concoction is prepared, pour it into a dirty sink pipe and serve over razor blades.

It's something like that.

Needless to say, the night takes a downward turn after this, and it's about an hour later that Natalie has passed out fully clothed, and I plug in her cell phone and turn in myself. It's 4AM, and I don't know it, but I'm getting up in four hours...

Cleveland Richfield Rocks!

2007-07-23T19:05:00.000-07:00

No, not the one in MN. (listening to: my head pounding)

Ok, so.. I spent last weekend in Ohio with Natalie. Meeting her family. They're wonderful, amazing people, and I'm totally serious when I say there isn't ONE of them I didn't like. Which is interesting, because I met them all. Literally. Every. Last. One. It was like a family reunion, and I was invited. The odds were high for embarrassment, and embarrassment there was. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's give you the play-by-play, shall we? I'll post one day at a time, so you can get the dramatic feel for the trip.

*NOTICE* I have pictures that help me tell this story, but at the moment, I can't get them onto my computer. I will post them as they become available, filling in the holes.

--DAY 1--
Our flight leaves Minneapolis at 7pm local time, so we had to be at the airport at 6. The idea is that I'll pick up Natalie at her house, and then we'll park at the Mall of America (specifically, one of the hotels next door) and then take the light rail to the airport. What I didn't count on was the fact that this is a REALLY good idea, so it's already been thought of. You can't park at the hotels next to the mall. They do nightly sweeps. Damn. So, we drive to the airport to park there. For $16 a day. For three days. Awesome.

When we finally get to the airport, We go through security, and because I didn't bag my liquids, my bag has to be opened and inspected. Apparently, the rule is that any container larger than 3.4oz cannot be carried on. Listen carefully to that... Any CONTAINER. It could be empty, but you still can't carry it on. Madjai loses his hair product, shaving cream and toothpaste. This is an awesome trip, and we're still in Minneapolis.

Now, sans-gels, we're hungry. So, we stop for a burrito at the airport common area. (By the way- two burritos and a coke at the airport common area is $18. Keep that in mind when traveling, folks.) This is Natalie really excited about leaving:

[[Picture of Natalie at Airport]]

And this is her burrito, which is decidedly less exciting:

[[Picture of Natalie flipping off her busted burrito]]

Skipping ahead a few hours, we land in Cleveland, and Natalie's Mom and Dad are there. This is a moment I have much apprehension about. Her Mom is a lovely woman, who reminds me instantly of my theatre professor in college. Uncannily so. Her Dad is a tall and affable fellow, who shakes my hand and welcomes me to Cleveland. (Side note: He calls me by my name as he's loading up our luggage. The first and last time he will get my name right all weekend.)

It's a 35 minute drive to Natalie's sister's house, where we are staying (let's call her Francesca). Francesca, I'm told, lives with a man (who we will call Brain, for two reasons) who is me in 12 years. I'm excited to meet him. Mom is very nice and is pointing out landmarks to me, and asks me questions about my life and my work. Dad is very silent as he drives, talking only twice to Natalie, and answering only direct questions with direct answers. I'm pretty sure I catch him staring at me in the rearview mirror at least twice with eyes of nearly infinite suspicion.

We pull into Francesca and Brain's driveway, and Brain meets us at the door. This guy is my style. He gives us a brief tour of his rambling suburban mansion, complete with a room that could quite easily control either several nuclear missile silos or rogue black ops agents in the remote corners of the world. Two computers, each with dual monitors (one of which is a 30" LCD), and every piece of equipment in this room glows either red or blue or green. I'm in heaven.

Francesca is a taller version of Natalie, with longer, straighter hair. She's lovely, and her and Brain make a cute couple. They have two children, "Harris" and "Jackie," who I will find out very soon are two of the CUTEST kids ever created. They are sleeping at the moment, however, so I won't meet them until Day 2.

We chat for a bit with Brain and Fran, and they make us feel instantly at home. I like these people, they're easy to talk to, and they are very down-to-earth. Also, as a bonus, they don't seem to be interested in quizzing me about my life. Which is nice, because it's late, and I'm very tired. As Brain shows us our guest room, replete with TV and DVD player, I realize that it's only 10pm my time. I'm still Exhausted from our trip though, so we watch 7 minutes of Adventures in Babysitting before passing out. This is the most sleep I'll get all weekend, and so far... I have no idea just how much is about to happen.

Aw, Nuts

2007-07-19T07:29:00.000-07:00

I'm so bloody clever. (listening to: "Untitled I" by Keane)

So, last week I sent out three packets consisting of two headshots, a resume and a cover letter to three of the local talent agencies. Monday, I got a call from Nuts asking if I would come in for an audition. For representation. Today.

This is a stressful enough weekend as it is, and to have this looming over my head today is both wonderful and terrible. There was a story "they" made us read in primary school about this knight who wanted to marry the princess. The king was an evil king, and made all suitors pass a test. He would place the knight in an arena with two doors. Behind one of the doors was the princess. Behind the other, a dragon. If the knight opened the door to the princess, he would be able to marry her. If he opened the door to the dragon... well...

I kinda feel like that. I feel like I've got my hand on the door, and I'm about to open it, knowing that I could just as easily find the dragon behind it. Or, if you prefer a somewhat less medieval analogy: Remember those movies where the bomb is about to go off, and the guy has the pair of scissors, and he's got one of the wires and is about to cut it... yeah. It's like that.

I guess I'm not really sure what I'm nervous about. I mean, I've been acting somewhat successfully in this town for about three years now, and I never had an agent. Now that one is in the possible future, if I falter and don't get an offer, does that really harm me in any way? Specifically, I suppose my thinking is that if an agency sees nothing special in me, my chances of actually making a living doing this in the future are greatly diminished. And that's what I want. I want to be able to just do what I'm good at for the rest of my life. I don't think that's too much to ask.

========UPDATE==========
A summary of my audition.

Went in there with two women, Cindy* and Ruth* (All names have been changed). Talked a bit about whatever, then we went in to the office. It's Myself, two girls, and two other guys, none of whom I know. We chat for a bit about what an agent is, what they do, what to expect and what not. Then, it's time for the on-camera audition. So, there's a stack of copy on the desk, and we're told to pick a commercial and an industrial (usually a training video of some time, but not always). I choose the industrial with some guy talking about how a store displays merchandise, and a commercial about buying auto parts. One of the women goes in ahead of me, and I run over the scripts as I wait my turn.
At the last minute, I change my mind about the commercial choice, and choose a Timber Lodge Steakhouse commercial. I walk into the "studio," and one of the other agents is filming with Cindy there as well. He's watching the Twins game on gamecast. :^)
I stand in front of the camera, we chat a bit about my experience on camera (almost nothing) say my name, and do my first read. The steak commercial. Let's see what I can remember:

We here at Timber Lodge Steakhouse know that some of you out there really love our steaks. So much so that you're giving them away as holiday gifts. You come in, order a steak and shrimp platter to go, as if we have gift wrap, and then return home and place it under the tree. We cannot stress enough that this is not a good idea. First of all, the wrapping paper smashes down the sour cream on the baked potato, and the traditional shaking of the package before opening really ruins the artful presentation. Not to mention the problems this might cause in houses with dogs. Might we suggest a simpler solution? Gift cards.

Then it wraps up with more name dropping.
Now, as I said, I'm not the first person to go. The girl before me was in there for like 10 minutes, and I could hear her read, and then re-read, and on and on. I finish my read, and the guy says, "Ok. What's your other one."
...I'm not sure how to take this. I do my other one, and it's short. So, when I finish, the guy isn't looking at me. He's reading my resume. He realizes I'm done, and he looks up, stops the camera and says,

Him:"Madjai. You NEED to get into ear prompting."
Me: "I took a class on it in college."
Him: "You got the equipment?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Buy it. Today. You've got the right look and presence for it, and you'll get a ton of work. Give [prominent twin cities actor] a run for his money."
Me: [ silent, big shit-eating grin ]
Him: "Yeah. You're done. We'll see yo-- you'll get a letter from us."

Explanation: Ear prompting is big in industrials. There's so much script, and no time to memorize, so you record your lines on a tape, and then you wear an earwig which plays it back. You talk along with your recording.
It's... fucking hard.

So, yeah.. I think that went well.

END TRANSMISSION...

What I Do At Work

2007-07-13T13:39:00.000-07:00

Seriously, someone please find me a better job. (listening to: someone hammering... like, 100 feet away)

While I don't have this exact conversation every day, here's a good example of what I do in between actual calls.

XXXX: bored
me: cracks knuckles
XXXX: your blog is un-updated
-- 14 minutes go by --
me: True business.
me: What should I blog about?
XXXX: i got nothing
me: Give me a topic
XXXX: hmm
XXXX: blackberry
me: Like, the phone?
-- 3 minutes go by --
XXXX: do your student loans make you ill?
XXXX: how can I make them go away...
XXXX: think I can just ignore them?
XXXX: how can I get a new social security numbeR?
me: I saw it in Coneheads... you just need to go find Adam Sandler. He'll hook you up.
XXXX: done and done
me: You know where to find him?
XXXX: he hangs out at the skylark
XXXX: i will see him tonight
XXXX is busy. You may be interrupting.

-- My Phone rings --

Me: "Thank you for calling xxxxxx Support, This is , How can I help you?"
Caller: "Hi... I have a problem."
Me: "Alright, Can I have your site ID?" (A 5-digit code that each company gets to identify themselves to us.)
Caller: "XXXXX"
Me: "Ok. Who am I speaking with?"
Caller: "Mike."
-- Pause, as I wait for him to say his last name, as I'm sure he's not the only person named "Mike" in the company. Finally... --
Me: "What's your last name, Mike?"
Mike: ""
Me: "Great. How can I help."
Mike: "My order entry program doesn't work."
-- At this point, I can tell this call is either going to be very long, or very short. And it will most definitely be painful. When a caller says something "doesn't work" and then doesn't say anything else, we can usually tell they have no idea what they're doing --
Me: "Alright. Can you clarify what you mean by 'doesn't work'?"
Mike: "I'm getting an error message."
Me: Thinking:"Well, Hallelujah."
-- At this point, there's another pause. You'd think that our friend Mikey would catch on that maybe I need to know what the error message says. Nope. --
Me: "What does the error message say, Mike?"
Mike: "Oh. You need that. Uhhh... It says 'customer is required.'"
-- I know the answer before I ask... --
Me: "Did you enter a customer into the order, Mike?"
Mike: "Oh. I have to do that?"
Me: "Yeah. The error message is telling you that the order needs a customer."
Mike: "Oh. OK."
*click*

Mike has hung up on me. Apparently, he's gotten what he needs from me. I feel so used. I write up the call-

PROBLEM DESCRIPTION:
User called in with an error message: "Customer is required" when entering a new order in order entry.

PROBLEM RESOLUTION:
Let user know that customer was a mandatory field. Customer hung up before solution could be verified.

-- Back to chat --
me: Some customers are idiots.
XXXX: no
me: Seriously. I have a college degree, and my grasp of basic logic is far beyond some of these mouth-breathers. These are IT professionals and System managers at these companies, and they can't decipher a simple error message.
XXXX: haha. I FOUGHT OFF THE CHINESE THIS MORNING. FLEX
XXXX is busy. You may be interrupting.

And so it goes.

END TRANSMISSION...

Tonight...

2007-06-21T21:13:00.000-07:00

I am sad. (listening to: Ender softly purring on my lap)

It is a hopeful sadness, one that knows it is supposed to be melancholy and yet knows that it will end, giving way to a smile, a laugh, a clearing sigh.

Tonight's sadness is brought on my memory. But not mine. I get like this when I read a well-written book. I strive to make my own thoughts more articulate. More prosaic, more... meaningful. Speaker for the Dead does this to me every time, and I've read that damn thing dozens of times. Tonight, though.. it's a new book- one recommended to me by Natalie. It's her favorite, and whenever someone goes out of their way to tell me what their FAVORITE book is, I make it a point to read it. You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite book.

This one is called The Time Traveler's Wife, and I've had all 540 pages of it for just over a week. I couldn't put it down. It was incredible. I loved it. I just finished it, and it put me into this mood.

I wish I could describe this mood with a better voice than my own. Like Byron or Shelley. I want to describe it using words that make the reader feel it as though they were me. What I really wish is that I could bottle it, and savor it like a dry wine at some point many years from now. I love the way it feels in my head. Like a pretentious poet or philosopher. It makes me feel egotistical and florid, the way a robe and a leather-bound book instantly speaks with a british accent "This guy takes himself way too seriously." This feeling is done away instantly by anyone not completely in tune with it speaking to me, so I am somewhat glad that tonight, I am alone, with only my son on my lap, happily dozing.

I'm not actually even here right now. The open deck door I sit next to shouts at me every time a car drives by with the loud, incessant noise of rubber on asphalt; but that's not the noise I hear. It's a crackling fire, the sound of pine logs popping fast and loud, the sap melting and exploding in little puffs of white smoke. The ticking of my keys as I punch each one in turn is the long slow clucking of a grandfather clock, steadily meteing out each second of the time I have in this place. It's a room I know well, and I love the delicious bullshit that comes out of it. I do my best thinking here, my best self-reflection, and it always, ALWAYS manifests itself in things that would normally make my eyes roll, itself heavy with its own ego.

But to me, it's delicious. A savory fruit or a warm blanket, I can feel it permeate me in heady intellectualism. And what comes of this foray into mental masturbation? Usually, a piece of writing that is itself significant to only me. My favorite result of this place is an old story I wrote about a man and a woman seperated by a river. It never holds the same beauty and elegance to someone else, and I always end up feeling like a heel whenever someone reads anything I've done in this room. But to hell with it. This is me, and this is now, so it's real, and it's a part of me.

Please, join me here?

END TRANSMISSION...

Eloi, Eloi

2007-06-14T12:38:00.000-07:00

What have I done? (listening to: Energetic Hold Music)

So, I'm sitting here on hold with a customer at work, and realized that I haven't blogged in much too long. Apologize. Mea Culpa. I'll try and blog while I'm solving these people's stoopid problems. (I love my job)

I shot my very first commercial yesterday. For Minnesota School of Business. It was... an interesting experience, and a very lucrative one. 90 minutes of work. Let me tell you something:

IT is quickly showing itself in all realms of business as a necessary and powerful language. I teach IT at Minnesota School of Business / Globe University to give students the edge they'll need to succeed in the marketplace. Along with their IT degree, they can become proficient in Database Design, Network Administration and Software Development. Our IT grads are confident, prepared, and in-demand.

And, cut. Things I've learned from this experience:

I pronounce the word "our" like "are." This is not a good thing. Try it yourself sometime in conversation. I'll bet you do, too.
Saying the phrase "business as a necessary" is a lot of s-sounds. It doesn't read well on-camera.
5 seconds is much faster than you think.
The director will laugh at the first few times you muck up a line, but after the 10th or so, it's not funny anymore.

So, that was a humbling experience. I learned that I didn't like the work, but I like the paycheck. Ain't that always the way? I'll be getting a DVD of the spot in a couple weeks, so look for it here or on my website.

July 4th is rapidly coming up. If you can read this, there's going to be a big pool party at my place. It's going to be awesome. We're grilling (BYOM) and drinking (BYOB) and swimming (BYO... nudity?) and watching the fireworks (provided). Let me know if you're planning on coming so I can prepare. But do come. Everyone's gonna be there.

I've been very busy with Agamemnon opening up last weekend to a GREAT crowd. Thanks to everyone who could make it. We haven't been reviewed yet, but I'm hoping we will this weekend. That would be nice. If you haven't seen it yet, come check it out! I get a sword! And a hot mistress! What else is there?

Quick things I'm thinking about before I sign off.
- I don't care if Paris Hilton goes to jail or not. I quite literally have better things to do with my mental energy.
- Dr. Pepper is possibly the greatest soda ever.
- Though, Mr. Pibb and Red Vines DOES equal crazy-delicious.
- Please, don't let Peyton Manning hang out with your kids.
- If you like licorice, try Twizzlers Rainbow Twists. I promise you won't be disappointed.
- People are losing their verbal skills. If I have to make sense of one more insane customer's babbling, I'm going to go all Jackson Pollock on them.
- I had forgotten what it was like to have someone genuinely caring about your feelings. It's nice. I like it.
- Being inconspicuous about something only works when it's not the ONLY time you're inconspicuous. My co-workers don't understand this.
- The Twins are awesome. How awesome you ask? I'm glad you did. Allow me to leave you with this:

END TRANSMISSION...

100 POSTS!! Open the Champagne!

2007-05-17T12:53:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my 100th post-iversary party! (listening to "Hail to the Chief")

Wow. 100 posts already. It's been 2 and a half years that we've been together. I guess at a time like this, you look back to the beginning. When I started this blog, I worked at a retail store, didn't work at Comedy Sportz, and didn't really have a theatre life here in the cities.

Today, I'm working full-time at a job with health insurance on top of 10-12 shows a month at CSz, and theatre has been very very good to me in this city. I'd like to thank everyone who's been with me since the beginning, and give a nod to the new faces just joining up. It's been a great ride. Here's to 100 more!

In recent news, Last weekend was Chicago to surprise my Mom for Mother's Day. We spent some time with Orion in Milwacky for a couple days, enjoying every moment of that before moving on to the windy city for brunch and an epic journey across the city with Mom and Dad. We had ice cream by the lake, and even took in a show. (Thank you, Patch and Pickle!) It was one of the single best weekends of my life, and I have Natalie, Orion, Ash, Bombs, and Mom and Dad to thank. Wonderful.
Interesting moments:

An Albino deer. Seriously

The one-hour break-up

Orion thinks that the US has 60 states

He also cannot say the word "cattle," given the first HALF of the word

Natalie and Ash are quite terrible at Catchphrase... like.. skunked-terrible

Orion breaks things when he's ~~drunk~~ "tired"

Patch Adams is a needlessly sad movie

I now like Guacamole

Grilling a feast on a hibachi takes 2 hours

Driving from Milwaukee to Chicago, however, does not

Mom likes surprises

The el train line that you most need to be running, will not be

It's a long walk across Chicago

You can't "take it back"

Male ducks are pretty, female ducks are not

Playing Patch would be awesome. Pickle, not so much

Both Strongbad and Penny Arcade are awesome, and I'm not alone on this

The Oasis on I-90 is not vegetarian-friendly

IJS.

Then we had to come back here. Which.. isn't bad... it's just... not there. Ah, Truer words were never spoken, Madjai. Well done.

I shoot the pilot episode of CENTER EARTH this weekend. 10 hours of shooting, 5 lines. Awesome, right? I think so. Hopefully I'll be able to take pictures of myself in the uniform. That'd be hot.

PS- Keep your thoughts going for that Cub thing. I haven't heard back yet, but I retain hope. You should too.

100th post... fin.

END TRANSMISSION...

I Sense A Theme...

2007-05-09T12:32:00.000-07:00

And I don't so much mind. (listening to: "Tiny Explosions" by The Presidents of the United States of America)

Hee hee!!! Look! It's TC Bear! Go Twins!

Last night's Twins game was amazing, BTW, for those of you who missed it. Justin Morneau is a God among men. This is true. But enough about baseball. It's all I blog about lately. What else...

I had a callback for Cub Foods yesterday that went smashingly. They're looking to hire someone to be their new radio spokesperson, and I managed to get a callback. I riffed with one of the ad agency guys for five minutes about ribs. It was entertaining. Hopefully that will work out. It'd be nice to have people hear me on the radio. :)

There's a topic that's been on my mind lately. I'd like to hear your thoughts. I know more than a few people who are really judgmental towards others who claim to be of a certain religion and yet do not attend services for that religion. Why is this? Does going to a church and being there for an hour every week somehow make you a better Catholic/Christian/Jew/Etc? I don't attend organized services because every time I find a church that I think that I like, they end up having some sort of strange philosophy that I don't agree with. Whereas living spiritually every day, constantly conversing with God (No, he doesn't talk back), I ascribe to a "religion" that perfectly encompasses my relationship with God. Jesus himself said (apologies to those whose religions don't include Yahweh, but I'm quoting for a purpose here)

And when you pray, do not pray like the two-faced (closer translation is "hypocrites), for they love to pray standing in the worship centers and on the corners of the streets, so they can be seen by people. Amen! I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, enter into your private room, then after you have shut your door, pray to your Lord in secret. And your Lord who sees all secrets shall reward you in the open. When you pray, do not perform useless repetitions, as the pagans do. They are deceived into thinking they will be heard due to the amount of their speech. In no way act like the pagans, for your Lord knows what you need before you ask Him.
-Matthew 6

Kinda puts that whole "Platitudes" thing into sharp relief, don't it? Clearly, I have my own opinions on this topic, and since It's my blog, I'll make them known, and I know for a fact that some who read this blog don't agree with me on this topic. Speak up. I won't judge you. Convince me.

In other news, I owe the IRS about $1,300 in back taxes. How cool am I? Bet you all wish you had helped me buy the Ecto1 now, don't you? Yes, I thought so.

Big weekend ahead. I can't talk about it here though, eyes are watching....

END TRANSMISSION...

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

2007-04-24T12:47:00.000-07:00

Now batting for the Knights, #15, MADJAI! (listening to: "Cleveland Rocks" by the Presidents of the United States of America.. unfortunately)

What a weekend of sports. Sunday saw the first Callboard Knights game of the Season, as well as the second. (D-league softball plays doubleheaders every day) The Knights are currently 1-0-1 on the year. I had a chance to play first base for the season opener, and it was easily the most fun I've had outside in a very long time. For you statheads out there, Madjai is currently batting .500 (1 for 2) on the season with a double and a run. More updates on that to come.

And, the beloved Twins lost a heartbreaker in extra innings, despite Natalie's prediction to the contrary. Cleveland came out strong with 3 runs in the 5th, and the Twins answered back with 3 solid in the 6th. It took until the 12th, but then Cleveland scored 4 big runs and put the nail in our coffin. However, it wasn't all tears as much ice cream was shared, and oh yeah.. cuteness:

Myself, Natalie, Vince and Alyson were all on the jumbotron for the first time in my baseball-going career as well, so that was damn awesome. A good night, if a late one.

PS- ANYONE who hasn't seen Major League yet... I need to know. We're going to watch it. At my place. Sometime this week. Seriously, people. Seriously.

EDIT: How come nobody told me I have a giant nose?

END TRANSMISSION...

Lightning Strikes Twice

2007-04-16T08:17:00.000-07:00

Coming soon to a theatre near you. (listening to: "Spare Me" on the Lightning Strikes Twice Motion Picture Soudtrack)

He was a man born into priviledge, only to have it taken away by the ruthless cartels of the underground bowling scene.

He was a hustler who grew up on the mean streets of St. Paul. Bowling his only escape, his only means of peace.

Brought together by the death of their bowling mentor, these two hotshots team up to bring down the evil that corrupts their beloved sport.

Madjai is Chip "Strikes" Leiberman.

Vince is "Lightning" Calhoun.

Together, they're going to clean up bowling, or die trying in........

LIGHTNING STRIKES TWICE

Picture courtesy of KittyCat, Story by Grantregan. COMING SOON.

END TRANSMISSION...

Web of Lies

2007-04-10T19:39:00.000-07:00

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave..." (listening to "Chain of Fools" by Aretha Franklin)

So, Natalie has blogged about an... incident.. that occured at my place a couple of nights ago. I'm going to set the record straight about the goings on of that evening, but first.. her side. Please keep in mind that names have been changed to pseudonyms, and that this is from her point of view.

"After that, I headed back to [Madjai]'s, and proceeded to BEAT HIM AND [SPIKE] in cribbage. It was the most dramatic ending to a game, ever.

Let me see if I can get it right. (This is going to be really fun to read if you play cribbage, and really, REALLY lame if you don't.)
I had 14 points left to win, and [Madjai] had 8 points left. [Spike] was behind. He was dealing. I was to his left.
I had 4,6,6,9 after discarding.
[Madjai] said to me, 'I have the points, so, you have to peg in to win.'
I said, 'It isn't going to happen.'

He said, 'Well, that was anti-climactic.'

The first counting round, I believe, ended with [Spike] getting 1 or 2 points. The next round started with me playing my 4, [Madjai] playing...I think...like, a 2 or something, and then [Spike] playing a 7, to take it up to 13. I then played a 6 for 19. [Madjai], being the cool guy that he is, played a 6 as well for 25, and took his 2 points. He then looked to [Spike] to play...anything. Anything 6 or lower. [Spike] looked up and said...'Go'.
I looked up, and I suddenly realized that I had...another 6. That's right, folks, 3 6's in a row, and a 31. Which gave me 8 POINTS AT ONCE FROM COUNTING. Which took me within 6 points to win, and I had 3 15's and a pair...so...um...yeah.
It was incredible. [Madjai] couldn't believe it...and it made my heart smile."

Ok. Here's what really happened...

Going into the final hand of the game, I did indeed need 8 points to win. I got my hand and had six points. An Ace was turned up, which completed a run in my hand giving me more than enough to win. At which point, I did indeed look up at Natalie and say that I had enough to win, and that since she counted first, she would need to peg a good number and get the rest from her hand. At this point, my memory of the events differs slightly. Natalie looked up at me and her lips formed the words, "It isn't going to happen," but her voice said "You will sleep now..." And her voice sounded strange, as if from a far away distance, but located in the front of my head. The next thing I know, I turn to Spike, and his glasses melt off his face and the walls of my apartment begin to slowly crush in on me. Just before they reach the table we're sitting at, they fall away, outwards, revealing a desert scene at night. The sky was bright purple and I looked over at Natalie who was now wearing a princess Leia slave bikini, and had a chain going from her neck to Spike's arm. Spike grew to the size of a mountain and his voice boomed across the desert sands: "SEEK OUT THE DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH..."
I turned on my heel and ran, but as I ran the sands became loose under my feet and I stumbled across the dunes never gaining ground from the monstrous sight behind me. I remember reaching out for Natalie who only laughed at my misfortune, and as I was swallowed up in the sands beneath me, I heard the same faint voice say, "fifteen-two-four-six, and a pair is eiiiiighhtt...."

I awoke from my hallucination to see Natalie's peg firmly ensconced in the "Finish" hole and Spike looking at me as if he himself didn't know what happened. Natalie was hopping around my apartment like a bunny on speed, and all I could think about was "Where the hell was I while all this was happening??"

Now, for those of you who know Natalie, her psychic powers are not a thing of mystery. She claims to have fallen in league with forces not of this earth, and clearly used them in this situation to curry favor with the cribbage gods. Well, this is a tactic that shall not go unnoticed. I cannot be held accountable for losses while under the effects of some black magick spell. Therefore, I declare her victory null and void until such time as she can be proven to beat me without skills against which I could only prevail if Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy could keep a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from dying or being turned into something unspeakable for longer than a year. Seriously.

END TRANSMISSION...

Sha Na Na Na Na Na Na

2007-03-27T09:55:00.000-07:00

You get to be happy. (listening to: "The Schmuel Song" by Jason Robert Brown)

You know what's nice? Being ASKED to audition. Last night, a director for a theatre company saw a staged reading of a show I was in and asked Natalie to tell me to audition for her show. That's NICE. That's how things SHOULD be. And when you get to go out to dinner after that... well... icing. (Even if we did nearly get kicked out of the restaurant for destruction of property)

I was reviewed at work today. I won't be getting my promotion until July/August. This was somewhat expected, but... I told myself that if it didn't happen in April, I'd be looking elsewhere for work. Maybe I need to do that. I won't, because I'm a coward, but I think that I should. Maybe it's time. I don't know.

Oh. Here's something I want to talk to you all about. Look, I don't own any grown-up clothes. I don't have a suit, and I own two ties. One of which, I hate. I own lots of clothes, but none of them would work if I wanted to go "somewhere nice." I have ONE outfit that I can wear that's like that, and I wear it all the time. Someone should tell me how to be a grown-up. I'm 25 now. It's time to start acting like it.

So, I have a bone to pick with EA. The PS3 is set up such that when you turn it on, you have to choose a user ID to "log in" with. Each user ID can have its own parental settings and stuff, so this makes it really good for a family or like a dorm. Specifically this is nice because each user ID has its own save game data. Orion or NCSz or Biggy can't jump into my save games and lead my characters into certain demise. Nor can they play through a particularly entertaining part of the game while I'm gone. (Kingdom Hearts, Biggy?) Every user ID is on their own.
However, this becomes problematic when users want to play AGAINST each other. Tiger Woods 2007, for example, earns the Madjai Raspberry award for stupidity. I've set up my own golfer in my user ID. NCSz sets up HIS own golfer under his user ID. We go to play against each other (Or rather, we start a game wherein he will be embarrassed and humiliated for 18 holes), and guess what. We can't see my golfer, 'cause we're logged in under HIS user ID. No problem. We'll just log into mine, copy the data into his, and we're off and running.
Menu, Menu, Menu, Copy.
"Error: File will not be copied. There is already a file with that name in the target folder." ... Thefuckyousay?
EA sports, in their brilliance, has decided to name their user data "User Data." No, I'm not kidding. The title of the data file is "User Data." You dumb shits. No one tested this before you shipped this game, did they? NCSz had to start all over again.
I'd launch into a rant about unique file names right now, but that would make this blog even MORE boring. Seriously, please get your shit together before you ship a game. That's all. Moving on.

EDIT: I just found out that I'm playing a Comedy Sportz show for the Minnesota Timberwolves. The professional basketball team. They've hired CSz to do a show for their fundraiser or some such, and I'm playing it. :) KG and I are going to become BFF, and we're going to have sleepovers and shave each other's heads and talk about boys. It's going to be awesome, and you're all jealous. Ah HA!

What else do I have? Week 1 is over, and I passed the test. But just barely.

Sports Night is awesome.

My cat plays fetch.

I hate my job.

I have a big smile on my face despite all of the above.

END TRANSMISSION...

Madjai : Jerkface :: Weather : Storm

2007-03-20T07:41:00.000-07:00

It happens sometimes. (listening to: "One Of My Turns" by Pink Floyd)

So, apparently, I was a jackass on Saturday night. Jabas was supposed to stop me from being Mr. Starfish, but either I missed the signal or he was busy orchestrating some other complex play in the field. (Metaphors.. mixing...) In any event, my apologies to "IM", "JB", JB's roommate K, "Natalie" and "Dana." (as usual, all names changed to protect the innocent) I'm not that guy.

All My Sons is now all done. Thanks to all who came. It turned out to be a really good show, and I have the privilege of working with one of my fellow actors in that show again very soon, so that's only good times.

I was out last night with Natalie, and we were talking about old flame horror stories, and I told her the story of the Vu. When I got home last night, I had an e-mail from that girl. Which is TERRIBLY F-ING ODD, because I haven't talked to her in a few years. And there's an e-mail. Same night I talked about her. She's no longer doing illicit substances I assume, and she's found herself a serious boyfriend. So, chapter closed. Closure is nice. (Though, in this case... very strange.)

This is a rambling post with little information in it, and for that I apologize. I'm at work, which is busy and crappy today, and I'm looking forward to playing Virtua Tennis 3 when I get home tonight. Oh, and I had a fantastic night last night.

END TRANSMISSION...

Is Anyone Really Surprised?

2007-03-12T19:40:00.000-07:00

I mean, seriously. (listening to: "She Blinded me with Science" by Thomas Dolby)

Recognize.

Other News:
Motorstorm for PS3 is not terrible. Point of fact, It's actually pretty good. I have a few gripes with it, but that's mostly due to me being bad at racing games. The load times are particularly atrocious, but a certain amount of that is to be expected. Loading long tracks in 1080i has got to be an ardurous task. The graphics are so good, in fact, I kinda wonder if the power of the processor is being harnessed to build a small, physical replica of our world somewhere in the 16" depth of my television. I wonder if I lean close enough to the back of my set, will I hear the cheers of the crowd?

Just a short one today, the revolution begins tomorrow.

END TRANSMISSION...

"Don't mess with the Bull, young man..."

2007-02-28T12:45:00.000-08:00

You'll get the horns. (listening to: "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple Minds)

Recognize that movie quote? I know someone who doesn't. In a titanic grudge match last night, the rival of which hasn't been seen since the Monitor and the Merrimac traded blows, My roommate was cast down amongst the mortals while I was lifted from the throes of lesser beings onto Olympus itself. Perhaps you've heard of the game "Scene It?" It's a DVD board game about movie trivia. While I don't own THAT many movies (Halsey), and certainly much fewer than Nate, if you ask certain people, There are two things I'm good at, and movie quotes are the other one.

Still, Nate in his hubris decided to challenge me in this most holy of arenas. Admittedly, he soundly won the first game. However, the second game was mine in a last-second recognition of that stupid little dog from the movie Legally Blonde, and the final (much closer) game was won by knowing who's Oscar acceptance speech contained the oft-mocked phrase, "You like me! You really like me!"

[side note: I actually almost completely impressed my roommate on a prior question, which would have won the game outright. Given the movie, name the siblings in it. The first film was Grosse Pointe Blank. Easy - Cusacks. Next. The Fabulous Baker Boys. Took me a bit longer, but I finally remembered the other Bridges brother. Hit me for the last. Men at Work. Crap. A movie I haven't seen. Stupid Estevez and Sheen.]

Nate, I hereby offer you the comments section for your supplication. Appease the gods and renounce your superiority, and I may offer mercy. Rebuke this offer, and face the wrath of one who is better than you. The choice is yours. We await your decision.

END TRANSMISSION...

Cell Phone Stolen

2007-02-25T15:59:00.000-08:00

Hey all.

Today around 5:30pm my cell phone was stolen. It was turned off immediately after they took it, so I doubt they called anyone from it yet, but please be aware that I have no cell phone, nor do I have any of your numbers.

It was completely my fault, and I'm a huge idiot for putting myself in the situation in the first place, a fact made completely apparent to me by the police who took my report, so let's not get into it. It'll just end up with you saying, "Why did you do that?" And me retorting, "Because I'm an idiot." And neither one of us will feel better. In fact, I'll feel a whole lot worse.

I'll update here when I have a new chip and phone. Shouldn't be more than a day or two. In the meantime, please e-mail me your phone numbers. Please don't assume I know it already. I put it in my phone so I wouldn't have to remember it.

Thanks.

UPDATE: Apparently, T-Mobile has a policy wherein any charges incurred on my phone before I reported it stolen to THEM (read: NOT the police) are my responsibility. Even if it is a 142 minute call at $3.99/minute plus a bunch of games and ringtones equaling $700. Awesome.

UPDATE II: I have a new phone, same number. It's currently working, so feel free to call me now.

President's Day Pessimism

2007-02-19T07:59:00.000-08:00

Seriously? Not a single dollar. Not one. (listening to: Our prior heads of state weeping in the afterlife because a grassroots organization to make the world a better place couldn't get motivated.)

Alright, so, maybe this blog ain't so great at fundraising. That's fine. I see how it is. No, No.. don't go back to the last post and give me some pity money. It's alright. I'll settle for driving the old and busted around. I didn't want the New Hotness anyway.

So, my show opens this week. This whole experience has been a real lesson in the question: "What is an actor?" Seriously, what is it that we do? From day one in all of our training, we have it drilled into our head that the director is the brains of the operation. All decisions both artistic and technical rest with them. And in the end, it's their show, sink or swim. But what do you do when you're being asked to do something that seems so counter-intuitive to the piece of work you're presenting? I mean, does the average theatergoer have the wherewithall to look at an actor doing something NOT interesting and say, "Wow... the director really screwed up this moment." HELLS no. They're going to say, "Man.. that actor just doesn't get it." And now *I* look bad.

Yes, I realize that this is fairly egocentric. Yes, I realize that the performance isn't about ME. But, dammit, there are certain things that are interesting, and certain things that are not. And I've been doing this for a while now, and I'm pretty sure my instincts are at least leaning towards correct. Basically, my question boils down to this: As an actor, do I give the director what they want, knowing that it will lead to a less-interesting show; or do I pretend that I just don't get what they want me to do, and play the actual arc of the script? Help. Help now.

In other news, I'm avoiding a topic purposefully. It's too soon. The memory still too raw. Anything I'd say wouldn't do it justice. I'm smoking a lot more lately. What kind of sense does that make?

Do me a favor. Tell someone who matters to you that you love them today. Even if it's just one person. Tell them so they know.

FOLLOW YOUR BLISS...

Hey, Brother, Can You Spare A Dollar?

2007-02-09T07:50:00.000-08:00

It's for a Good cause!! (listening to: Ghostbusters Theme)

So, Check This out.

That's right, folks. For only $150,000, I could be the proud owner of THE Ecto 1. Better than the Batmobile, cooler than KITT, it's THE choice ride for a young suburbanite. Please help me own this piece of Americana! Here's the deal. Below, there's a PayPal donation link. Click it, and help me out! But you don't just get the satisfaction of doing a good deed. Oh, no.. There is a sliding reward scale! Please note that as you ascend the donation ladder, you get all of the previous prizes, as well as the one at your level. Check it out:

$1 - $9 => A Thank You e-mail, personalized from me!
$10 - $99 => A coke (or other canned carbonated Beverage), hand-delivered from me and some lively conversation.
$100 - $999 => Pizza and Movie night. Clearly, we'll be watching Ghostbusters.
$1,000 - $9,999 => A ride around the city in Ecto 1. I'll even let you work the siren.
$10,000 - $99,999 => 1 day ownership of Ecto 1. You can drive it anywhere you like, tell people it's yours, whatever you want. Just as long as it comes back to me 24 hours later with a full tank of gas and no structural damage.

What are you waiting for!?! Hit the link, and let's do this together!

END TRANSMISSION...

Me With Other Guys' Girlfriends: CSz Edition

2007-01-29T08:39:00.000-08:00

A photo montage not to be taken seriously. (listening to: The sound of the men of CSz wanting to punch me.)

K, Girlfriend of The Taint

Also named K, girlfriend of Hall-See

And this is JNL, girlfriend of Mustache Ranger #1

All these guys are good people, and each can punch me in the face one time. One thing, though: How come nobody told me that I have three chins when I smile? Seriously? What is wrong with me. Anyway, enjoy. Three beautiful ladies, Just one me. Wait... Make that four.

Oh, and I had to add this. This is Mike, doing BOTH Barbara Streisand AND Neil Diamond singing "You Don't Bring Me Flowers." It was... nothing shy of unbelievable. And check out that sweater...

END TRANSMISSION...

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!

2007-01-21T20:01:00.000-08:00

"Well, it's kind of like a mix between hockey and soccer, only less people." (listening to: "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" by Pink Floyd)

So, Friday night was something I've been looking forward to for a little under a year now. A Minnesota Swarm game. Minnesota has a professional Lacrosse team. Yes, it's a professional league. They have uniforms and everything. It's easily one of the most exciting and entertaining sporting events I've ever been to. And I've been to them all. Four 15-minute quarters, 5-on-5 action. The game had everything I could have wanted it to have to turn Jabas and his date into fans. A high-scoring game, a "performance team" (basically cheerleaders with midriff-baring ensembles), and even a fight! If you have the means and the time, please go to one. My favorite part is the announcer- he's catty and openly mocks the other team throughout the entire game over the Xcel loudspeakers. Think Ryan Seacrest, only with a sports jersey and a MUCH better sense of humor.

Some Highlights of the evening:

* (After the Swarm draw first blood 17 seconds into the match) Announcer: "That's right folks, for those of you new to Swarm games, they score every 17 seconds. The final score of this game will be 485 to 0." (Yes, his math was wrong. Actual final score would be 211 - 0)

* A woman behind me: "My husband told me a little bit about this, but I can never remember how many quarters are in a game."

* (The jumbotron shows a member of the aforementioned "performance team" sitting next to a 15-year-old kid, who looks COMPLETELY uninterested in the entire thing) Audrey and I at the same time: "He's gay."

* They had a rock-paper-scissors competition at halftime. The fat guy in the stupid hat did NOT win. And he lost to a girl.

* (Audrey was completely disinterested in the entire game until the fight broke out, leaving one Swarm player with his jersey and pads around his neck, exposing his chest.) Audrey: "Yeah! Yeah! YEAH!! DO IT!! ... Oh My God.. that was the most homoerotic thing I've ever seen! That was AWESOME!"

And the best part of the evening was this guy:

He was completely soused by the middle of the 2nd quarter, and decided to cheer for the other team. This did not sit too well with the 2 DOZEN kids sitting in his section, and after every Swarm goal, they would RUN down to where he was sitting and YELL as loudly as they could whatever they could think of about how awesome the Swarm were. He was drunk and fought with them, and we all loved it. At one point, one of the kids took his hat off and ran away with it. He may or may not have gotten it back.

Final Score: Swarm- 11, Knighthawks- 10, Madjai- Infinity.

END TRANSMISSION

Worst. Day. Ever.

2007-01-08T08:08:00.000-08:00

What a horrible start to my work week. (listening to: Hope rushing out of my life like air into a vacuum)

I'll let this article speak for itself. And I swear I didn't edit that picture in MS Paint at all. (His horns are a little hard to see, but they're there)

House Costars Engaged
FRIDAY JANUARY 05, 2007 09:15 PM EST
By Julie Jordan

Actress Jennifer Morrison and actor Jesse Spencer, who costar on FOX's hit medical drama House, became engaged over the holidays in Paris, PEOPLE has learned.

Morrison, 27, who plays Dr. Allison Cameron, and Spencer, also 27, who portays Dr. Robert Chase, met while filming the pilot for the series, which debuted in 2004.

A rep for the couple says no wedding date has been set.

END TRANSMISSION... (and life)

EDIT: This is how it should be.

New Show!!

2007-01-05T09:28:00.000-08:00

Alright, Alright already!! You want a new post, here it is! (listening to: regret at auditioning for True West)

The Lakeshore Players
present:
All My Sons
Starring:
THE MADJAI as Chris Keller

So, as The Mousetrap ended a little more than two weeks ago, I got bored and went to another audition. This time, way up in White Bear Lake. (Those of you who live more than 20 minutes away from this frigid northland theatre are excused from attending this performance.) The script is FANTASTIC, and I managed to fool the director into thinking I can play a romantic lead! Ha Ha! Skinny character actor, FTW!

Anyway, the show dates are on the website (click above), as well as on My Website, so you have no reason to miss this one, unless you hate the drive. But really, I'm making it 5x a week, so to come once isn't unreasonable, is it? IS IT? No, I thought not.

PS- for those of you keeping score at home, if I can be allowed to ignore the fact that I auditioned for True West and didn't get called back, then this makes the 9th consecutive audition I've been cast in. If you're going to be a stickler for rules like The Rooster, then this is the second show in a new streak.

END TRANSMISSION.

Welcome New Friends

2006-12-28T06:51:00.000-08:00

Greetings and Bienvenue! (listening to: My page hit count go way up)

Apparently, getting to know a fabulous blogger and all around good-person like Hedy goes a long way towards increasing your traffic. Well, fine by me.

Welcome to the Wiiman's blog. Take a look around, and if you like what you see, well... umm.. good for you. I'd shake your hand, but.. you know, Internet.

I'm currently looking for new music to listen to since Orion thought it would be supercool to bring me FIVE DISCS of new music, but nothing to decode it with. So, if you've got a favorite band that you think no one has heard of (OMG!! They're the r0xx0rz! I heard of them B4 they sold out! RECOGNIZ3!), let me know, and I promise not to be their downfall.

Merry Christmas

2006-12-24T18:57:00.000-08:00

Season's Greetings to each and every one of you. (listening to: "It's a Wonderful Life" Seriously. I really am.)

Just a quick post to let you all know that I'm thinking of you as the snow (doesn't) fall(s) wherever you are.

I hope that this holiday finds you happy, fulfilled, warm, and full of love from those nearest to you, and those you love as well. I hope that the next year gives you everything you seek for those of you making large moves, and those of you staying where you are. Faith, Hope and Love be with you all. But the greatest of these is Love.

Be well.

A Blast From the Past

2006-12-21T09:21:00.000-08:00

Listening to: Pick of Destiny Soundtrack, Tenacious D.

My Score: $3,560

My score: $2,660

YOU don't know Jack, do you?
You should. This was easily my favorite non-single player computer game growing up. They now have new DAILY questions. Enjoy.

The Next Gen Has Indeed Arrived

2006-12-16T09:38:00.000-08:00

And it is good. (listening to: the fan, whisper-quiet)

I'll just let this speak for itself.

That is all.

END TRANSMISSION...

Official Anger

2006-12-11T06:40:00.000-08:00

And I don't even refer to what I do as a "craft." (listening to: "Song for the Dumped" by Ben Folds Five)

So, KR and I went to go see Tartuffe last night at Jeune Lune. But first, some back story. Set the Wayback Machine for spring of 1999.

A young (and significantly less attractive) Madjai goes on a school field trip with his classmates to go see a play by Moliere called Tartuffe at Jeune Lune. It has the single most interesting entrance of a main character EVER, and is generally speaking the best thing this young man has ever seen with his own eyes. (It would be later this summer that he was to see his first breast in person. Just the one, though... not a pair.) Steven Epp plays Tartuffe with creepy, delicious evil in his eyes, and the entire cast is spot on in their portrayals of desperate family members. (For a plot summary, think "What About Bob," except in reverse, and evil.) This young man, who has already dabbled in acting, is now set. He wants to be an actor.

Now, last night, the show is almost exactly the same. The same actors (mostly) portray the same roles, and it's every bit as good as it was 7 years ago. Madjai is transported to a better time and place, and reminded again, why he is desperate to act for the rest of his life.

And then, the world comes crashing down. After a well-deserved standing ovation, the cast basks in our admiration for a while, and then one of the lead actors (name withheld to protect the asshole) motions for the audience to sit down. "May I have your attention for just a few moments..."

Now, in my head, I'm thinking, "Oh, he's going to thank us for coming out to see live theatre in Minneapolis. Good for him." I look around, and the just-over-300 seat theatre is nearly-full. Only the back section is mostly-empty, and I deduce that there are about 250 people here. A GREAT turnout for a Sunday night in the cities. But, Lead-Actor is moving on with his speech...

"We need your help." My ears perk up. Open Auditions?? Ushering for free tickets?? I'm yours. Tell me.

"If you'll look around, you'll notice that there are empty seats around you." My heart falls into my stomach. Oh No... Don't do this...

"We need your help as audience members to help us fill this house. We can't continue to bring you wonderful, provocative theatre without your financial support. Please, on your way out, take a blue form..." But I've already stopped listening. Or, rather, my ears are burning a bit too much to actually hear what he's saying.

Look, I'm no theatre snob. I don't consider what I do to be all that difficult, and I've never called it a "craft." or a "trade" or any of that. (Yes, I consider it art, but that's as far as I go.) But to stand there, on your multi-thousand dollar stage in your amazingly detailed and wonderful costumes and look out at 250 people who paid $24 EACH to see your show on a work night and tell them that it's OUR responsibility to fill those last 50 seats so you can put an extra $1,200 in your pocket is beyond reason.

There are DOZENS of theatre companies here in the cities who would KILL for a THIRD of your house, at HALF your ticket prices. And you have the balls to stand up there and put your "financial woes" on US?? And not only that, but to guilt us into by making us feel like if I don't bring 5 people to the next show, that I'm not doing my part for art in the cities?

I don't mind the "tell your friends to see theatre" speeches that some theatres give. Generally, I'm all for them. Please, Please, PLEASE go see theatre. And, my guess is that an audience member in general probably wasn't offended by that little speech. But as an actor, and one who doesn't get paid enough to live on acting (as YOU do, sir), I was VERY fucking offended. You are not the only company doing great work in this town, you're part of a community, a family. And we need your help, not your hubris. Take your 250 audience members and THANK them for supporting you. And we'll thank our 30. Let's all remember we're on the same team, alright?

*flips bird, drops mic*

And The Last Shall Be First

2006-12-05T17:21:00.000-08:00

listening to: Nothing.

I just got a call from my Dad. At about 5:00 this afternoon, my last remaining grandparent, my grandmother on my father's side collapsed. About 10 years ago she had an artificial valve placed in her heart, and as I'm told, these things last about 10-15 years. The doctors do not believe that she is strong enough to undergo another replacement surgery, so they are making her comfortable, and keeping her warm.

I have very fond memories of my grandmother, and most of them are around Christmastime, as she lives in Iowa, and that was always the time when we would see her. She would bake cookies, and we would sit around her drafty old house and just... talk. There wasn't much else to do in Iowa, as some of you can attest to.

My Dad will most likely be leaving to be by her side in the next couple of days, and I oddly find myself wishing I could be there as well. I may drive down there in the morning. I can't stay for very long, since I have a show this weekend, but... I don't know.

It's an odd feeling. And I can't exactly place it.

A Work of Fiction

2006-11-27T18:47:00.000-08:00

An excerpt from a short story. (Listening to: "Eli's Coming" by Three Dog Night)

In every way, in every possible manner in which someone or something can be complete, he was not. An atom of hydrogen needs one proton and one electron. With either of these components missing, it ceases to be what it is, and becomes something wholly new. In the same manner it is with people.

Invariably, a time will come in every person's life when, Silverstein-like, a human being will find the piece that makes them whole. What's more, until you find this piece, you don't even know you're missing it. Unlike the titular character of the above reference, you go through your daily routine, blissfully unaware that all the while you are lacking that which will make you complete. For some, it is a passion. A thing you do without which you feel a noticable ache. Similar to the way that missing breakfast can make a person feel sluggish, irritable and without rigor, lacking this one activity can change your whole day, often for the worse. Surprisingly, these folk are the lucky ones. For the woman who loves running, all she needs to sate her fix is a long stretch of emptiness and a pair of shoes. For the man who cannot do without his work, he needs only four walls and possibly a telephone. These people can always have what it is they seek.

No, the unlucky ones are those who find themselves inextricably bound to another human being. Call it what you will, filial bonds, friendship, fraternity, even love. For these, every day without that person seems a day in darkness. Indeed, the misfortune these humans find themselves in is disastrous. A friend can betray. A father can die. A lover can take another. The curse of human beings is that we are, by our very nature, social animals. We thrive on interaction with others like us; however the misery inevitably comes because we are powerless to stop another from taking action which irrevocably harms us.

God has given us free will. He has done this in his amazing Grace and Foresight so that we may choose, each of us, our own path. He has chosen this route for His creation so that in the end, we may discover him not by force or by compulsion, but rather by complete and total choice. However, there is a duality to this gift, as there so often is. The flipside is that because we are free to choose of ourselves, no human being can compel another to remain. Those people who find their counterpart in another are damned to, at the very least, wondering if that other will ever leave. Often times the action begins small. A word, a careless phrase, perhaps even something as meaningless as a touch or a movement. Once committed however, the action begins a spiraling out of control that would make the butterfly effect seem to be as simple as a lever or an inclined plane.

What then, shall be done? The choices are simple. Retreat into a shell of impenetrable armor, never to allow yourself the human connection in a true and meaningful manner again; or, more dangerously, begin to find another piece of you. For you see the time will come when you will discover that you are not a pie with a slice removed. You are a cheese grater, with more holes than can possibly be filled. Indeed, the time will come for all of you. I pray that you make a better choice than our protagonist. And so, our story begins...

I Love Rock and Roll

2006-11-10T07:15:00.000-08:00

So put another dime in the jukebox, baby. (listening to "Bang Bang" by Dispatch)

That's right folks, it's happened. The Heroes of Rock have been given new life, and this time, it's glorious. Not that the first game wasn't tremendous, mind you, but the second one does everything right. They've even incorporated encores, ENCORES! The crowd goes wild for another song, and you have the choice to play it for them. And just like an actual road show, you save the best for last. *ahem*War Pigs*ahem*

Oh, what else is going on.. hmmm hmm hmm. Oh, yeah. My show opens in a week from the post date of this blog entry. We're doing really well, and we moved down into the Arena theatre last night for our first rehearsal in the actual space. Which, as I was told, sucks up sound like it were live-giving manna. So, if you come to the show and you can't hear me, we'll come up with a signal so I'll know to talk louder. Ummm.. Sneeze twice. Quickly. Ah-choo, Ah-choo. I'll speak up.

I don't know what the status is on the moving out thing. I have heard no additional word since that first phone call. I'm still moving forward with plans to move out of my place, though. While I'm sad to leave the deck and all the space behind, it will be nice to get a place closer to the city, and my mountains of friends here. More as it develops.

Sorry this post is boring, my life is rather hectic at the moment, and none of it is interesting and positive. It's either boring or depressing, and I'm told I'm too morose on my blog. So, silver linings for everyone! Happy Happy!

*sigh*

END TRANSMISSION...

Universal Karma

2006-11-01T14:57:00.000-08:00

Ohhhh.. So, THAT is why I won money in Vegas last week. (listening to: phones ringing. everywhere. all at once.)

Got a call from my landlord/"grandfather" last night. (It's a long story, suffice to say, he was once directly related to us, is no longer so, but for all intents and purposes, he keeps the title.) He is getting a divorce from his current wife, and as such, needs to sell the condo I'm currently living in.

This.

Sucks.

Yes, I realize this is not about me, and my thoughts and prayers go out to him as he goes through this tough time in his life. But, as it stands, I imagine I've got about a month, give or take, to find a new place to live. And that's not much time. And wherever I go, I'm taking Ender with me. So, it's gotta be pet-friendly.

As of this writing, all not-already-paid-for video game and entertainment expenses (read: Guitar Hero 2 and Nintendo Wiiii!) are being put on hold until things get sorted out. In the meantime, I am inquiring into places who are seeking new tenants. If any of you know of any nice places near the city that can accommodate all my shit (sectional couch, big TV, big bed, dining room table), goes for about $500-$600 a month, and has a dishwasher (Madjai does NOT do dishes), please let me know.

Even if you don't know of a place such as this, please let me know everything is going to be OK. So much is not going right at the moment, and I'm feeling very adrift. I don't have what I used to to lean on anymore, and I'm feeling that absence.

Sing it, Mary...
Try not to get worried, try not to turn on to problems that upset you, oh...
Don't you know everything's alright, yes, everything's fine.
And we want you to sleep well tonight.
Let the world turn without you tonight.

sigh.

PS- Jill Bernard rules. That is all.

END TRANSMISSION

Anything With the Word Revenge in the Title

2006-10-27T13:25:00.000-07:00

is a sequel. (listening to: "Revenge of the Nerds" theme song)

My 75th post! Huttah!

My grand return from Vegas occurs and finds me just over $700 happier than when I left. As I'm told, I may be the youngest person ever to win money playing Keno. For those of you who don't know the game, allow me to explain. You start playing Keno on a card that has every number from 1 - 80. You choose any combination of 1-10 spots on the card. When you've finished, the computer will "randomly" pull out 20 numbers. You are paid on the number of matches. At the time of my "jackpot," I was playing 6 numbers, and hit all 6. The odds of which, by the way, are 7752:1. Suffice to say, it was a very good trip. This means:

Nintendo Wii - PAID IN FULL
Final Fantasy XII - PAID IN FULL
Guitar Hero 2 w/Wireless Guitar - PAID IN FULL
Metroid 3 - PAID IN FULL
And about $300 left over. What shall I do with it all??? What a delicious question.

So, Vegas was fantastic. Finally got a chance to see the Pussycat Dolls perform live at Pure, an event two years in the making. It was a great show, but not quite what I was hoping for. Perhaps I had built it up too much in my head? In any event, I was tossed a lovely satin souvenir, courtesy of the Las Vegas Dolls. Thank YOU, ladies.

What else has happened since my last post... hrmmm... unfortunately, most of my time has been taken up with work out there in the desert.

Well, since this is my 75th post, I should recognize the people who got me here. Hit my links on the right since they're there, but there are a few who deserve special recognition.

Orion - For showing me blogspot in the first place and nearly literally giving birth to the Signs of Life.
Zoltan - For demanding that I continue to chronicle those signs when I nearly bowed out a year ago.
Daisy - For always checking up here, and continuing to be a presence.

Thank you, and here's to three more years, at least!

Something Zoltan Would Most Definitely Like

2006-10-20T06:59:00.000-07:00

This is a re-post from another site. This one goes out to Flash Gordon, Ricky Beeman, Rocket J. Squirrel and Jesus Christ, all who were created by us, and who all ranked in the 90's. (listening to: The John Madden NFL rap from Madden 2002)

For those of you who don't know already, this letter is from Washington Redskins lineman Ethan Albright to John Madden. In Madden's newest cookie-cutter-off-the-line-every-year-so-I-can-line-my-pockets-with-gold video game, Mr. Albright is rated the lowest-ranking player in the NFL. Yeah, behind every kicker and backup special teams player currently on NFL rosters, Mr. Albright is ranked dead last. Here's what he has to say on the subject. (Be forewarned, the language befits a man thusly shunned.)

To: John Madden
CC: Electronic Arts Sports
From: Ethan Albright
Re: Being the worst rated player on Madden ‘07

Hi, John, my name is Ethan Albright. I play line for the Washington Redskins. You probably already knew that, so I’ll continue. I am writing in regards to the overall player rating of 53 that I have received in Madden NFL Football 2007. I feel that this is fucking bullshit and you should kiss my mother-fucking ass. Ahmed Carroll was rated a 78 and the Packers just cut his ass on a Tuesday morning after his performance in a Monday night game. That is pretty terrible. The worst part is that his overall rating was sniffing 80.

You know what, John? Two can play this game. I rate you a fucking 12. I rate you a fucking 12 in Ethan Albright Football 2000-ever… except for in the category of ball-licking. That is where I will spot you a 98 rating. You will receive this score because I will never give your blubbery ass a 99 in any category. Take that, pencil-dick. Go do Al Micheals or something. Boom. Score one for Red Beard.

It’s also pretty wonderful that my awareness rating was 59. You make it sound like I wake up in the morning, helplessly shit and piss myself, then lose three of my teeth before I discover that I am trying to eat a rock for breakfast. Fuck, John, I understand you saying that I am slow and lacking athleticism, but a rating like this pretty much labels me as retarded. Rod “He Hate Me” Smart has a 52 in this category. Electronic Arts is saying that seven rating points separate me and the breathing embodiment of the perfect oxymoron. Rod Smart struggled to arrange words in sentence form. Cave men had better hold of the English language. The only actions that separate point values of ignorance at this embarrassing level are things like using your own toothbrush to wipe your ass. I basically edged out Rod by my lack of shit teeth. If I take a night school class, could you bump me up to a 60?

I guess I just can’t fathom the fact that I am the absolute worst player rated out of the entire NFL. Fuck, man, there are some shitty guys out there. Amongst everyone, I was rated the absolute worst.

I have received the impression that you feel that I am lacking in the agility category. I should consider a walk through my living room where I don’t crash through a wall or kick over furniture a resounding success. My agility rating on your game is 33. It makes it sound like I just topple over if I start walking too fast. Ted Washington is rated a 40 in agility. He is listed at 365 pounds. If Ted Washington tied a white lady up and made her wear a metal bikini, he’d look just like Jabba the Hut.

John, you are such a fucking dick. I also noticed that my kick return rating was a 0. I was rated a fucking zero? So you feel that I shouldn’t even receive a 10, or even a 5? You are pretty much saying that I couldn’t even fall forward on a ball kicked in my direction. I would just stand there and let the ball bounce off of my fucking face. Fuck that, John, I returned an onside kick 6 yards in 2002. You should have just slapped a - 4 on me and had the EA staff ambush me with paintball guns.

Finally, I would like to comment on an unlikely topic, my pass coverage ratings. I see that I am a better at man-to-man coverage (31) than zone (21). Fuck me sideways with a lunchbox. Where did these scores even come from? How much time is spent coming up with the pass coverage ratings of offensive lineman? Can I have that job? Let’s see here, I think that Orlando Pace would be slightly better at jumping intermediate routes than Larry Allen. While I’m at it, I can assign the passing ratings for offensive lineman as well. I can use mine as a guide.

I was rated with a throwing power of 17 and accuracy of 16. Orlando Pace has a 22 power and 17 accuracy rating. Did someone at EA really put time into figuring out that Orlando Pace edges out Ethan Albright in both throwing power and accuracy? I will challenge him any day. My horrible passer ratings are of greatest misfortune to my son, Red Beard Jr. The poor boy is not only hideously ugly and covered by freakishly large freckles. He also has to suffer through playing catch with me and my senile-elderly-woman-type passer ratings. A session of tossing the pigskin usually consists of me missing my son by thirty yards in sporadic directions. I led him in front of a fire truck once and my wife kicked my ass. This is because of my 76 toughness rating. Yes, a 76 is far better than the other ratings, but I’m a fucking lineman, damn it. NFL Linemen are considered to be synonymous with toughness. According to your game, I am a retarded, uncoordinated, pussy-ass fuckwad that can’t fall on a kickoff, throw, or spell. I am, however, slightly better at manning up on a receiver than dropping into zone coverage. You lose your mind more and more each year, old man.

Fuck you, John. Please expect to find red pubes in various meals you consume for the rest of your life. If you fuck with Ethan Albright, you call down the thunder.

Rot in Hell,

Ethan Albright
Original Story Here

Amen, Mr. Albright. Amen.

END TRANSMISSION

edit: A Rollercoaster BLOODBATH, courtesy of Kotaku

Vegas, Baby

2006-10-19T06:59:00.000-07:00

Vegas. (listening to: "A Little Less Conversation (a little more action)" by Elvis

Vegas. Year Two. Twice the fun at half the cost. Last year, the goal was to go to Vegas, and come back with enough money to buy an iPod. And I did. Right now, Vegas is my bitch to the tune of $300 or so. This year, the stakes are being raised.

I have a Wii preorder that needs paying for as well as a FEW games coming out very soon that need paying for. Let's break it down.

Nintendo Wii - $250
Red Steel - $50
Final Fantasy XII - $60
Guitar Hero 2 - $80
--------------------
TOTAL: $440
- Money already spent preordering
= $375.

Let's round it up to an even figure and let's make it $400. I'm going to take $400 off of Vegas this year, and be in gaming bliss because of it.

In other news, I've got a PR shoot tonight for The Mousetrap. That's right, for those of you out there who get PR shill from TRP, you're going to see my ugly mug on your postcards. In advance, I'm sorry. But, it's great publicity for me, so I'll take it. With happiness.

So, blogger denizens, I apologize if this is the last update for a week or so, I promise to write more when I'm richer. In both life and cash. That is all.

END TRANSMISSION...

Hat Trick!

2006-10-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

Refers to three days, three posts. Don't get used to this, people... (listening to: "The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage" by Panic! at the disco)

Two interesting and fun things happened in the last 24 hours. Shall I reveal them both to you? Chronological order? Very well.

THING NUMBER 1:
I went to see Shadowlands at TRP last night. WONDERFUL. Here's my review:

I wish that I had remembered to bring my program to work today so I could use actor names, but I didn't, so bear with me.

The show starts out with Lewis lecturing on the topic of God and suffering. His demeanor is academic, but somehow open and welcoming. The conceit for the whole show is that we keep coming back to this same lecture. We come back to it right after intermission, and he briefly jumps back into that world at the very end of the show. It's a neat conceit, and it works fairly well. Unfortunately, it's the only "transition" that does. Many of the transitions between scenes are roadmapped very clearly, but it's impossible to tell how much time has gone by. This may be a fault of the script (which has its absolutely brilliant moments), but it didn't really bother me at all until towards the end of the show when one character asks CS Lewis if it was worth it, and he responds, "Three years of happiness?" That was like someone slapping me across the face. Three years?!?! Where the hell did three years go? What else did I miss? It's a jarring moment that leaves an audience member wondering just how much of Lewis' life we've been watching over the last 120 minutes.

Fortunately, this is the only conceit that put me off. The staging was well done, alhough there was a lot I missed because I was sitting in E. I kept thinking, am I the only one who can't see this moment? And yes, I was. The moments I really wanted to enjoy were available to nearly every other section. I just picked a bad place to sit. The pacing of the first half is generally good, with lots going on for us to pay attention to.

The woman playing Joy, I understand, was a last-minute replacement for the original cast member. Last night, she came on and seemed to be very wooden, and very methodical in her delivery. Each word was deliberately pronounced, and it seemed like she was being careful just get the lines out rather than play her character. However, after about 10 minutes or so, she warmed up, and I never felt like she was swimming against the current for the rest of the night. In fact, towards the end of the show, I was so completely in the palm of her hand, it seemed like there were two different actors there. The acting tour de force (always wanted to use that phrase) between her and Lewis in the second act was palpable, and the 55-minute second half flew by in a mess of tears and heartwarming moments.

There were a couple weak links in the cast, but all in all Lewis, Joy, Riley and Mornay (i think.. GOD, I wish I had my program with me) are Atlasian in carrying the show through tougher moments. As a fan of CS Lewis and his life's work, I may have enjoyed this show more than most. But it's a very touching commentary on why we suffer in this life, and where God is when it hurts. Turns out, He's right there, we're just not sure what He's doing about it.

Yes, folks, it was that good. Overall, I give it 4.5 Madjai's out of five.

THING NUMBER B:
I got mii a Wii preorder. I know, right? Here's the story.

KR agreed to wait out in the cold at my local EB Games this morning because she's an amazing person who does nice things for mii that I don't deserve. (Mii singing her praises was part of the deal.) Shii only agreed to do it because it was a good character study for her, what with the mass amount of giiks who would CAMP OUT not to get the actual system, but only to PRiiORDER it. Plus, I told her shii could play my DS in line with the other giiks. This, shii siimed to like. The store opened at 10am, and they had 14 Wii's to sell. I told her to bii there at 9:15. This turned out to bii 75 minutes too late. Alas. No Wii this year.

I immiidiately got on the phone to all my local EBii stores and tried to find one that was still priiordering. After an hour, I found one that was. Hii told mii to hurrii and get there quicklii so that hii still had one for mii when I got there. I did, and hii did, and wii did a little dance of happiiness.

So, I will be getting a Wii on November 17th, day of Launch. Which, I just riialized is the opening night of my show... miining that I won't bii able to play with my Wii until verii late that night. Sadness.

**End of over-used "ii" substitutions for "e" sounds.**

Now I find myself thinking... what if people want to touch my Wii? Should I let them? I mean... it's MY Wii. Will they be gentle with my Wii? What if they want to hold my Wii too long? Should I ask them to stop? Will that be embarassing for me or them? I mean, I know that no one has the right to touch my Wii without my permission, but... I want to be nice, right? Maybe I'll let them touch my Wii for just a little bit, and then ask them politely to stop. But, at the same time, I know that when you get your hands on a Wii, it's hard to stop without finishing. I don't want to be called a Wii-tease.

Please. Help me. How should I let people handle my Wii?

Making A Concerted Effort

2006-10-11T08:28:00.000-07:00

To blog more. (listening to: War Pigs by Black Sabbath... see previous post)

So, scroll down to see if you've missed anything in the latest hurricane-like frenzy.

I updated the look and feel of my blog today. Hope you like it. Notice the new set of links on the right to my favorite webcomics. As soon as I figure out how to add a link to a Podcast, I'm going to do that as well.

I noticed that when I changed my blog over, I've been blogging for nearly two years now. That's two years, as many jobs, 5 shows, and innumerable dramatic catastrophes. In that vein, I've decided that while I adore the quote above from 1984, I'd like to update it as a part of my fall cleaning. If anyone has any ideas that fit the overall tone of this blog, I'd love to use a new quote up there. I'd prefer it to be an excerpt from a book, though a song lyric isn't out of the question either. Something you think reminds you all of me, while still proclaiming my last few shreds of pretention that I like to hang on to. The gates are open. Make it so.

In other news, rehearsals for my next show are going very well. I enjoy working in that space, and the rest of the cast is great. Except for the actress who plays Miss Casewell. I think she and I are going to have to fight before the run is over. Which is too bad. It really is.

Going to Vegas in a couple weeks for work. So, hopefully I'll have pictures to post of things that I did there that WON'T get me in trouble. Everything else will stay safely undocumented.

KR came back to the cities last night after her extended absence in Chicago. Her show with Redmoon was a fantastical journey through a magical orchard in the deep crimson and gold autumn. (My words, not PR schill) The show had a lot going on, and easily filled the three hours allotted, and the only gripe I had with the whole evening was that I wanted a plot line. It was basically an art gallery that you wandered through, except that it was outside, and you didn't have plaques next to each artist telling you what the hell was going on. You just observed, and enjoyed it at face value. Which I did. I guess I'm just a little too left-brained for my own good sometimes.
Nevertheless, KR was fantastic both on stilts and on land, and only dropped one lemon and a telephone the night I was there. So, if you see her, tell her "good show." Even if you weren't there. She deserved it.

Alright. That's that for the day. I'm at work, so I should probably look busy... er.

END TRANSMISSION...
(how i'm thinking about ending all my posts now...)

Generals Gathered in Their Masses

2006-10-10T07:12:00.000-07:00

... just like witches at black masses. (listening to: A choir of heavenly angels, proclaiming in loud, trumpeting voices: "Go Tell it on the Mountain.")

And who am I to argue with what is clearly, a gift from the Lord Iehovah (original latin spelling, for my Indy fans).

Well folks... Kotaku released a story today about everyone's favorite game. And more importantly, they dished out the ENTIRE track list. And,

Oh.

My.

God.

Let's get right to it, shall we?

1. Opening Licks
Motley Crue - Shout at the Devil
Danzig - Mother
Cheap Trick - Surrender
Wolfmother - Woman
Spinal Tap - Tonight I'm Gonna Rock You Tonight

2. Amp-Warmers
Kiss - Strutter
Nirvana - Heart-Shaped Box
Police - Message in a Bottle
Van Halen - You Really Got Me
Kansas - Carry on [my] Wayward Son

3. String-Snappers
Foo Fighters - Monkey Wrench
Alice in Chains - Them Bones
Iggy Pop and the Stooges - Search and Destroy
Pretenders - Tattooed Love Boys
Black Sabbath - War Pigs

4. Thrash and Burn
Warrant - Cherry Pie
Butthole Surfers - Who Was in My Room Last Night
Mat[t]hew Sweet - Girlfriend
Rolling Stones - Can't You Hear Me Knockin'
Guns N' Roses - Sweet Child O' Mine

5. Return of the Shred
Rage Against the Machine - Killing in the Name Of
Primus - John the Fisherman
Sword - Freya
Thin Lizzy - Bad Reputation
Aerosmith - Last Child

6. Relentless Riffs
Heart - Crazy on You
Stone Temple Pilots - Tripping on a Hole in a Paper Heart
Stray Cats - Rock This Town
Allman Brothers - Jessica
Jane's Addiction - Stop

7. Furious Fretwork
Anthrax - Madhouse
Living End - Carry Me Home
Lamb of God - Laid to Rest
Reverend Horton Heat - Psychobilly Freakout
Rush - YYZ

8. Face-Melters
Avenged Sevenfold - Beast and the Harlot
Suicidal Tendencies - Institutionalized
Dick Dale - Misirlou
Megadeth - Hangar 18
Lynyrd Skynyrd - Free Bird

That's right folks. Bask in the glory. Is that Spinal Tap I see there?? Oh, yes... this is the day that the Lord has made, and you will certainly rejoice and be glad in it. LOOK AT THAT.

Songs I will rockstar-kick-your-ass at:
Police - Message in a Bottle
Kansas - Carry on My Wayward Son
Foo Fighters - Monkey Wrench
Black Sabbath - WAR PIGS (OMGWTFBBQ!!!11!!)
Rage Against the Machine - Killing in the Name Of
Stone Temple Pilots - Tripping on a Hole in a Paper Heart
Rush - YYZ
wait.. wait just a second.. is that.. Scrolls up to look

It IS!

Ladies And Gentlemen: Lynyrd Skynyrd - FREEBIRD.

That's it.. Good night, Minneapolis, we love you.
*Sets fire to guitar and amps, and leaves the stage*

Three Down...

2006-09-18T09:19:00.000-07:00

Three to go. (listening to: ringing of party in my ears)

Sitting around our hotel room last night, it became clear to The Family(r) that we only see each other when one of us gets married. This quickly turned into a pseudo-shouting match about those of us who don't travel to see the others very often, and Zoltan quickly suggested that the six of us and our "Better halves and/or special guests" take an all-inclusive trip to sunny Cancun sometime.

To me, this sounds fantastic. I'm thinking sometime between Christmas and New Year's. Maybe be IN Cancun for New Year's? Anyone?

The title of this post refers to the fact that fully half of The Family(r) is now married. In the interests of both anonymity and humor, I've created/borrowed the following pseudonyms for the original founding members of The Family(r) and their counterparts, purely for record-keeping purposes:
The Madjai (currently unmarried)
El Scorcho (currently unmarried)
Zoltan and his wife (and original family member) D-lightful
Biggy and his wife EttAli
Lawful and his wife Schoolmarm Red
Roxtar (currently unmarried)

Consider this the guest list for the trip, kids. Those of you unmarried- choose your +1, or just bring your alcoholism.

How Windy Was It?

2006-09-12T18:09:00.000-07:00

It was so windy, that it blew me away!! (listening to: "Babe" by Styx)

Wow... that's got to be the worst pun I've ever blogged. I'm very sorry. (kinda.)

So, I spent the weekend in Chicago, visiting KR, Karen, and my folks. What a great weekend. We did some of the touristy stuff, visited Millenium park, went for a walk along lakeshore drive, rode every line there was on the El, and even went to Navy Pier. (Shut up, KR, we SO did.)

And, yes, I went all the way to Chicago to go to an AMC to see The Illusionist. PS- this movie rules. This blog tries to be spoiler free, so I'll say just this: I didn't like 30 seconds at the end of the movie. There you have it. Go see it.

I'm reminded every time I go to that place that I love it there. Why do I want to move there? It costs $20 to park your car anywhere, if you're lucky. The El is $2 one-way, and the Metra is even more. And yet... something about that city just feels... like home. I'd move there inside of an hour if I thought I could live there. No job, no place to live, and with acting going oh-so-very-well here, I'd be a fool to leave. A damn fool. And yet...

I haven't spoken about the gaming world in a very, VERY long time, so I'd like to take this moment for that. There are a few good-looking games coming out soon that I'm very much looking forward to. Right now, I'm about 1/3 of the way through Xenosaga III, and finding less and less time to play it lately. So far, it's very good, and provides me the milkshake of gaming and over-the-top philosophy and education that is needed in this world only slightly less than a new source of oil.

Biggy is getting married this weekend. (No link due to his blog being replaced/taken over by some freaky marketing thing) Everyone keep him in your thoughts and prayers, as he gives up the good life, and goes off to become Mr. His Wife (names changed to protect the innocent). Also, keep his wedding party in mind as we get stupid drunk this weekend in memoriam of his bachelor status, and yet another friend lost to the wily ways of women. May he be long remembered.

Happy Birthday, Indeed!!

2006-08-24T10:26:00.000-07:00

Well, well, well... looks like 25 is my new lucky number!! (listening to: the Hallelujah chorus)

So, today is my birthday. Which isn't all that great, considering my dubious birthday track record. However, this one is absolutely fantastic thus far!! I have tickets to the Flaming Lips show tonight at the Fair with the very lovely KR, which I've been dying to go to since I heard they were coming to town.

But, not only that, I have ALSO been cast in my first TRP show! I will be playing Giles in their production of The Mousetrap this winter. Details on their website or mine. For those of you keeping track at home, this makes 7 auditions, 7 callbacks, and 7 castings in a row. I'm on a heater!

Thanks to everyone who's wished me a happy birthday thus far today, and if you haven't.... where you at?

PS- Daisy has been accepted to some acting program in LA, so her decision to move out west is now definite. Please wish her the best as she moves on to fame and fortune, as we all knew she would.

TAPE

2006-08-06T10:35:00.000-07:00

Two shows down, Three to go. (listening to: "I Fought the Law" by Eddie Cochrane)

**UPDATE**
Only one show left! Please come and see it if you haven't yet!!
**END OF UPDATE**

We had our second performance of TAPE yesterday afternoon, and open our third this evening. Our first show was meekly attended, but those who were there were very responsive and clearly enjoyed the show a lot. Yesterday was MUCH better number-wise, and the audience REALLY enjoyed themselves. They were laughing at all the right times, and quiet and thoughtful exactly when we wanted them to be. Also in yesterday's audience was a reviewer from the St. Paul Pioneer Press. His review is below:

Stephen Belber's play — which was made into a 2001 movie with Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman — is really more an exercise in dialogue than a story. This story of three people in a motel room rehashing the events of a long-ago night has more improbabilities, red herrings and false endings than a bad detective novel, and its 20-something characters are Myopic with a capital M. But the first-rate cast of Christiana Clark, Stephen Frethem and [The Madjai] gives a smooth and polished reading under the able direction of Dana Buchwald. Nothing too Fringe-y about it, but a good effort.

- Dominic Papatola

Basically, he didn't like the show, but he liked us. Fair enough, Mr. Papatola. Fair enough. If you haven't seen it yet, please come. Dates and times are on the Fringe Festival website. Or, you can check out my homepage with a link on the right.

Nine and 1/2 Games

2006-07-29T09:03:00.000-07:00

That's how far we are from total and complete domination in a miraculous come-from-behind-season. (listening to: The Hormel Row of Fame theme song)

So, The Emotional Gremlin took me to a Twins game last night. We sat in the third row behind home plate. Liriano gave up two quick runs in the first, but then settled in and pitched one HELL of a game against a tough team. 12 strikeouts for the kid... which EG called on the nose (I took the under. I didn't think Gardy would let him play 8 innings. My bad). The Twinks answered back with runs in the first and third innings, making the score a 2-2 tie until the 11th inning. Unfortunately, the Tigers got one run in the top, and we couldn't answer back. My homeslice hero Jason "Renyt" Tyner had a few chances to be a hero, but went 0-5 last night. Which wasn't good. But, c'est la vie, and we got two more games against them this weekend. SKOL Twins.

In other news, I'd really like to thank the people who helped me out over the last couple days with my car troubles. AlFREDo, The Rooster, EG, Halsey, you guys bent over backwards and really came through when I needed you. Thanks a TON. I owe you one. you're good friends to have.

Now, I have to go shoe shopping for my fringe show, which everyone's coming to see, right??? And then I have rehearsal for said show... God help us all.

The Way Things Are

2006-07-15T22:56:00.000-07:00

Alright. Here's the thing. I have several issues here, and I'm going to list them in no particular order. (listening to: Sports Night Theme)

1) This blog is about the Madjai. People start posting my first and last name up here regularly, and I'm going to be upset. It's not that I take internet anonymity very seriously, but as a favor to me, I'm the Madjai. Thanks.

2) This is not a bashing ground. People who know me, know that I'm a pretty fair guy who tends to get too emotionally involved in other people's business. Some of my friends like this, because they think it means I care, and I want to be a part of their lives. It does. But it also makes me a fucking doormat sometimes, and that's my problem.

Walker, I love you. You've always been on my side, and you never let me get stupid about myself. There are times that you and I see eye to eye on a lot of things, and you're one of the most important people in my life. And because I love you, I think you'll take this the right way. Be nice. I fucked my own relationships up on my own, and those little pieces I have left of what's good in my life I'm trying to hold on to. I apologize for deleting your last comment, but don't think that I don't agree with it. Pieces of it, anyway. More on that in a minute.

Opal, you've always been a cheerleader, and I appreciate that about you, but in this much, Walker is right. Things don't always end up happily. In fact, people die alone in this world every day, and if others could fix that by telling each other that they just *know* everything is going to be ok, then we'd all be famous and rich. The fact is that just ain't so. Some people find the one they're looking for and live happily ever after with them, and others don't, and they die with the memories that for just a few years, they had someone they cared about more than anything else. Someone they cared about enough to not kill themselves because their life was shitty, but that person gave them hope enough to keep living. Even if it WAS stupid hope that would never come true.

To Daisy, I have brought enough bullshit into her life as it stands right now, and I'm not going to bring it up again by launching into it again here. She knows how I feel, and as much as I try, that's not going to change anytime soon. I wish it could.

3) This is MY blog. Everyone has their own, so if someone feels the need to snipe at someone, go to their blog and do it. I will not allow my friends to rip on each other here, and I will NOT let my problems be the cause of additional problems that are NOT my fault. If you want to tell me you're in my corner, please do. I need that right now. Every day sucks a little bit more ass than the last one, and what I need most right now are my friends telling me that I'm not the complete asshole I feel like. What I don't need are people telling me that I should be looking at this from the other side of the coin. Trust me when I tell you right now that I KNOW what the other side of the coin is, I've looked at this from all the angles, but until you've been where I am, and where Walker has been, you don't get to tell us that things are going to work out. Sometimes they just don't. But that doesn't mean we go hunting to hurt people's feelings. Not on my watch. Walker may seem like he's being mean, and it may come off that way, but he's being loyal. He's being a real friend, and while I think he's a bit off-base, and doesn't have all the information, he's been through this only about a million times bigger, so we're all going to cut him some slack.

Some of you have called, some have e-mailed, and everyone wants to be there, and for me to talk about it. I really don't want to, and I apologize if this has hurt some of your feelings. It's not personal, but I don't want to get into it, because it's still too close to home. I thank you for your support, and I DO need good friends right now. So comment away, but leave your comments for ME here. Take your others elsewhere. And that goes for everyone.

That's it, I'm done. *waves hand and leaves*

Picking up the Pieces

2006-07-06T16:44:00.000-07:00

Wow.. this one is going to be tough to write. (listening to: random bar music)

Couldn't go home after work tonight. Too much there that reminds me of something I both want to forget, and know that I don't really want to forget- what I really want is to selectively remember. This and that memory, I'll keep. Last night and selected other days I'd like to toss, please.

It's not really for me to post lengthily on this, and please don't call me and ask me if I "want to talk about it." Because I don't. I'm pretty sure that even forcing me to think about what all has happened in the last 24 hours is enough to make me want to hurt something. A lot. Suffice to say, Someone who I thought was very close to me has made a very important life choice recently (or, as I found out, a while ago), and that choice precludes us being close anymore. Such is life, I suppose.

I find myself in the oddest state of being. I'd really like to hate. To be so angry, and rip things up and burn them, but I can't. I find that I harbor, honestly, no anger towards the other person, but rather only to myself for allowing this charade to go on as long as it has. It's ironic that I have no one to be angry at except myself, and I don't even really think I did anything wrong. Maybe someday when I die, God will show me what I should have done differently, and this will all make sense, but until then, I'm stuck with a big plate of Mama Zlata's Self-Loathing on All-You-Can-Eat night.

Little pieces that have memory attached to them don't become repulsive to me, but rather precious. Piling them all into a box was not the act of anger, but more of an almost scientific experiment to see if I had enough pieces of tiny happiness to, voltron-like, construct a whole. Turns out I don't. And the curvy writing that was hard enough to read with a smile acros my face is even more difficult through tears to decipher. It's only the fact that my cursed photographic memory has memorized those words so very long ago that their meaning comes unbidden to my mind. I wrapped myself in them like a cocoon, hoping that when I came out of them, I'd find that I had grown wings in the interim, and could fly out here on their multi-colored freedom. Alas, I could not. A caterpillar I remain.

Well, perhaps at the very worst, I'll be able to construct an entire emo album out of this event. When life gives you lemons... No.. I can't make lemonade out of this, I want to, I really do.. I just can't.

I need real friends. Please tell me you're out there, and that yes, Madjai, you're an idiot. But you're our idiot, and we still love you.

Please.

A.E. Housman

2006-06-12T15:04:00.000-07:00

From: A Shropshire Lad (listening to: a gentle breeze)

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
`Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
`The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am two-and-twenty
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

If truth in hearts that perish
Could move the powers on high,
I think the love I bear you
Should make you not to die.

Sure, sure, if stedfast meaning,
If single thought could save,
The world might end to-morrow,
You should not see the grave.

This long and sure-set liking,
This boundless will to please,
-- Oh, you should live for ever,
If there were help in these.

But now, since all is idle,
To this lost heart be kind,
Ere to a town you journey
Where friends are ill to find.

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

Shot? so quick, so clean an ending?
Oh that was right, lad, that was brave:
Yours was not an ill for mending,
'Twas best to take it to the grave.

Oh you had forethought, you could reason,
And saw your road and where it led,
And early wise and brave in season
Put the pistol to your head.

Oh soon, and better so than later
After long disgrace and scorn,
You shot dead the household traitor,
The soul that should not have been born.

Right you guessed the rising morrow
And scorned to tread the mire you must:
Dust's your wages, son of sorrow,
But men may come to worse than dust.

Souls undone, undoing others, --
Long time since the tale began.
You would not live to wrong your brothers:
Oh lad, you died as fits a man.

Now to your grave shall friend and stranger
With ruth and some with envy come:
Undishonoured, clear of danger,
Clean of guilt, pass hence and home.

Turn safe to rest, no dreams, no waking;
And here, man, here's the wreath I've made:
'Tis not a gift that's worth the taking,
But wear it and it will not fade.

While some things change...

2006-06-07T20:25:00.000-07:00

Some things stay the same. (listening to: Complete, total silence)

So, here's the thrust. You don't hear many girls nowadays say "I can't, I'm washing my hair." And why don't we hear that? Because guys figured out the code. We know now that it just means you ladies aren't interested, and that we should bugger off, save our pride. So, you had to get creative. Well, in the recent past, a giant e-vite must have gone around to all the world's women and they all got together in front of the sacred council of the Y chromosome and while drinking completely organic tea and eating boca burgers, it was decreed that the phrase "I can't, I'm washing my hair" would be replaced with "You know, I'm just not looking for a relationship right now."

And the catch is, we men.. we actually believed that. After all, it seemed reasonable. And you ladies... you took a page from our book and explained things logically. "I just got out of a bad relationship, and I need some time off." or "I'm just really busy with my career right now." These, on the surface, seem like rational arguments. But the thing is ladies, you really should all compare notes with each other and eased this parlance into usage. When too many of y'all use it on the same guy.. the jig is up. And this guy has found out your code.

Guys, this clever and seemingly-rational turn of phrase holds no more truth than what it replaced. Sure, maybe they really are just "washing their hair." But in all likelihood, it's not that they don't want a relationship. They just don't want one with you.

It's a hard fact to get used to. Trust me.

What Happens to a Dream Deferred?

2006-06-03T11:14:00.000-07:00

Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? (listening to: "Some Postman" by Presidents)

So, for the more observant of you, you've already noticed that I've added a show to the news page on my website. The show is Theatre Pro Rata's MACHINAL, and I was offered a really good role (a couple, really) in it. However, One of the performances takes place on the same night my friend Biggy is getting married, so after some deliberation and talking with people very close to me, I've decided that I can't perform in that production. The theatre company was VERY accomodating, and even offered to move the showtime out to 8:00pm to allow me to drive back that night. I just couldn't do that to myself, or to Biggy. This is a huge deal, and I committed to him first. So, that's that.
I'm kind of upset about it, though. Not at Biggy, at all, or really, at anyone but myself. I keep thinking that something is going to work out for me. That I'll end up getting something to work, and that once that happens, everything will be ok. But nothing comes, and the little victories turn into little mediocrities, and then, eventually, those just turn into "thought-I-had"s. I fell like I'm not really an actor lately, and For the last eight years, that's all I've ever wanted. I feel like I keep putting it off, keep saying that there will be time, that I just have to give myself time. I'm 24, and right now, the only thing keeping me alive is my day job, which I don't really like that much. Not that anyone likes their day job, but the point is that the one thing that always made me really happy (that wasn't a person), I feel like I'm letting go. Or pushing it off. I don't know, maybe I'm just feeling insecure with everything going on around me lately. Stay tuned, though.. I've gotten the last five auditions I've been to, so... there'll be a show coming up. In the meantime, there's always Comedy Sportz.

In music news, I've cought up with the rest of the world and fell in love with The Postal Service (the band, not the government agency). They're fantastic. Also, I've rediscovered The Presidents of the United States of America. I highly recommend checking out the song I'm listening to right now. Run, don't walk.

Otherwise, not much is going on. Work is getting interesting. There was a new position just posted at the same company for a job I think I'd like a lot more, so I need to figure out how to tactfully going about applying for that job. It's going to suck if I have to leave my coworkers in the support trenches, but.. I have to do what's right for me.. plus it's got a pay raise. And more money is definitely needed for the Giant Black Beast that is the PS3. If you haven't heard, the damn thing is $599. And on launch day, I won't be surprised if I find myself $1000 lighter. Yes, really. So, If you'd like to make a donation, feel free to do so. Any gift helps- for the price of a cup of coffee a day, you can help save the gaming world of the Madjai. And since he doesn't have many friends to hang out with anymore since leaving college and all, he needs the distraction. Won't you please save the children?

I mentioned Comedy Sportz earlier. I'm serious about coming. Some of you have been more than once (only one of you is probably reading this), but others of you haven't, and you should come. You know who you are. I was sent out on my first remote show the other day. It was a 30-minute show at a church. It was pretty interesting. A lot different feel to it than a theatre show, but the money is almost insanely better- forcing me to wonder just where all the money is going. It's probably keeping the doors open in the theatre in some business-y way I have no concept of.. but I'm young, and allowed to be greedy. Anyway, day by day my CSz shows are getting better, so in about a year, I should be a valued and contributing member of that society.

I want to go see XMen 3. I've got no one to go with... can I really go by myself? We'll find out, I guess...

(CW)TM out.

This is what happiness is.

2006-05-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

Folks, you want to know what it means to be happy? How about this. (listening to: Two people in love)

Yes, that's my brother. Yes, that's his fiancee. Yes, I'm jealous.

Just like friggin' Mozart

2006-04-17T07:23:00.000-07:00

I'm taking commissions. (listening to: "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik")

So, All the things going on in my life right now are either too personal, too painful, too boring, or too stupid to actually blog about. But, Van-Wilder-like, it took a friend to remind me that I have one skill left untapped. My narrative skills.

So, I'm taking commissions, folks. I will write a short blog (5-6 paragraphs) about a character of your choosing in an interesting or dangerous situation. Here's what I need from you:
1) The name or occupation of the character.
2) A non-geographical location
3) A form of non-monetary, non-negotiable payment.

#3 is the trick. I don't care how you pay me, but I don't want money, and I don't want goods. I'm not Kyle McDonald, and even if money is promised, you'll never pay me anyway. Be creative in how you pay me back, and I'll be creative with your character.

Ready? Steady? Go.

PS- Happy Birthday, Daisy

Two Teams Enter... And, well.. They Both Leave, Too.

2006-03-29T12:06:00.000-08:00

Schedule update! (Listening to: "Say it Ain't So," by Weezer)

My April Comedy Sportz Schedule:
April 7th - 8pm - Sound / Announcing
April 7th - 10:30pm - Playing
April 8th - 8pm - Playing
April 8th - 10:30pm - Sound / Announcing
April 29th - 8pm - Playing
April 29th - 10:30pm - Playing

Come and partake of the festivus!

The Weather Is Here, I Wish You Were Beautiful!

2006-03-17T12:56:00.000-08:00

Greetings from the land of "Those who would challenge Federal Law!" (listening to: "How Come" by D12)

Yes, here I sit in South Dakota, anxiously awaiting... anything to happen. Anything at all. Any time now... No? Alright then. I think Godot is stopping by this afternoon. Maybe he'll want to go do something.

The college has changed a bit, more of an internal feeling than a cosmetic one. The theater lobby is now a place of mania. Where there was once Jordan, Daisy, myself and a few others (sometimes Biggy) sitting around being stupid, there is now literally a dozen students running around singing showtunes (Yes, really) and calling each other "lover." Were we ever like this, I ask? Was this us, four years ago? I don't remember..

I'm looking forward to seeing BNi play tonight, and I'm going to try and fanagle my way into at least one game with them while I'm here. We'll see how that works out. The roads driving down here last night were awful. Ice all the way from Jackson to Worthington. Scary stuff. But, AJ kept me focused, and the tunes rocking and didn't fall asleep once. I was so proud.

Not much else going on around here, so I don't have a whole lot to share with you. I just got my headshots back, so once I've narrowed the field a bit, I'll hopefully be able to post a few up here and get the popular opinion on them. STAY TUNED!!

PS- For those very few of you who haven't weighed in on My Johari Window yet, please do. You know who you are.
PPS- Next post will be witty! Promise!
PPPS- I caved and got a myspace. Please don't make me regret it. *sigh*

Bible Study

2006-03-01T10:01:00.000-08:00

EDIT: Not really worthy of a whole new post, but please, if you've read the post below, then this is new content: My Johari Window. Click that and pick six words from the grid that you think describe me best. You'll see what I picked, and what others chose. Could be interesting. Give it a shot? Thanks. And, now, back to the action....

So, since I inspired a post on Jeremy's Blog, I thought it only fitting that he got equal treatment. Plus, it's Ash Wednesday, the beginning day of Lent. (listening to: "Awesome God" by Jars of Clay... really.)

I'm going to quote the Bible now. I'm serious. You can look it up, this is actually from the Bible:
GENESIS 9:20-25
And Noah began [to be] an husbandman, and he planted a vineyard. And he drank of the wine, and was drunken; and he was uncovered within his tent. And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of his father, and told his two brethren without. And Shem and Japheth took a garment, and laid [it] upon both their shoulders, and went backward, and covered the nakedness of their father; and their faces [were] backward, and they saw not their father's nakedness. And Noah awoke from his wine, and knew what his younger son had done unto him. And he said, Cursed [be] Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren.

...

What? Seriously? Noah got upset that his son saw him naked after a drunken binge, and cursed his line forever? And thus began the curse of the Canaanites? I'm curious as to what we're supposed to learn from this particular Biblical passage. I don't forsee many sermons or homilies on the topic, and I doubt anyone will have it read by their cousins at their weddings. Who put this in here in the first place?

Well, I'm so glad you asked. Here, in Dialogue form, is my interpretation of how this passage made the final Biblical cut.

TIME: Sometime long ago AD
PLACE: England, High Templar Council

Templar Leader: "Alright, everyone. Thanks for coming today. We're going to try and get this done today so we can get these Bibles out within the next hundred years. *laughter* Ok... Let's decide what stays and what goes. I guess, let's just go aroudn the table and have everyone say what they think should be kept in the Bible, and why. Templar Fundir, you go first."
Templar Fundir: "Alright, *ahem* Umm, I really think the whole story with Jonah and the big fish should stay. It's a good story, and it shows how we can change God's mind if we repent."
Templar Leader: "Agreed. Ok. That's in. Templar Gridmal?"
Templar Gridmal: "Yeah, I think we can't have the Bible without the Eve and the Serpent story.. it really moves the whole Garden of Eden narrative along and forces some conflict."
Templar Leader: "Totally. Yeah. We'll put that towards the beginning, then."
*Templar Moordok barges in, late for the meeting and reeking of mead*
Templar Moordok: "Heeeeeeyyyyyyyy Everybody!! What'sh going on???"
Templar Leader: "Moordok, we're working. We don't have time for your drunken ramblings. Go sober up, and come back tomorrow."
Templar Moordok: "Awwwww... Come oonnn, buddy! Don't be such a buzzkill! I'll be cool. I can even help! What're we doing? Ohh!!!! Bible work!!! I'm TOTALLY in. I've got the BEST idea for a story. Peep this- What if... like.. NOAH.. you know.. the boat guy? What if he like, gets off the boat... and is the first guy to make wine in the new Earth? That'd be AWESOME! He could, like, make wine, and get totally drunk, and then like, PASS OUT NAKED in his tent! That'd be schweet!"
Templar Leader: "*sigh* Moordok, that's stupid. We're trying to do some serious work here. Can you please leave so we can get this done?"
Templar Moordok: "And then... And then... like.. His son TOTALLY walks into his tent.. and SEES him naked! *drunken laughter* And he tells his brothers, and they're all like, 'Oh, man! That's horrible! You had to see Dad naked!' And they like, don't want to see him naked, so they walk in backwards and cover him up! And then.. and, and, and then.. Noah's really embarrased, right? So he yells at his son for coming in without knocking!!"
Templar Leader: "That's very creative, Moordok. Why don't you go write it all down and send us a copy. And we'll think about it."
Templar Moordok: *suddenly very serious* "Don't you tell me what to do. You're not the boss of me! You're always telling me what to do, and I never get to have a say in it. You'll put my story in the Bible, or I won't be held responsible for what happens."
Templar Leader: "Don't you dare threaten a Templar! Moordok, you're so drunk you couldn't even lift a pike, let alon--"
*Moordok throws his pike into Gridmal's chest, killing him instantly. He then draws his axe and slams it into the table*
Templar Leader: "SWEET GOD, MOORDOK!!! ALRIGHT! Just stop! We'll put your story in the Bible.. just... Enough!"
*Moordok raises his mead jug to his lips again, draining it in one mighty drink*
Templar Moordok: "That's right you will. I didn't want it to come to this. But y'all better recognize the skills next time. I'm out. Oh.. and one more thing. My boss is a Jewish Carpenter. Jesus 4 life."

--SCENE--

Those english, man.. they can really drink.

Three-Day Weekend, and Turning Over a New Leaf

2006-02-19T16:51:00.000-08:00

Time for a new beginning. (listening to: "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd)

So.. how's everyone been? Good? Excellent.

I find myself at the end of a three-day weekend, and so much has happened in these three tiny days, I stagger at the weight of it.

First of all, if you have the means, and are in the area, go see Daisy's Show. It's pretty good, and if you're into old-school melodrama with a dash of audience interaction, I think you'll love it. She's fantastic in it, but this should come as no surprise to anyone who knows her. It's showing at the Bloomington Civic Theatre's Black box, (you'll have to check out City Pages web site -> calendar -> theatre for times and prices. The BCT website doesn't list it. Go. Right now.)

On top of that, it's just been insanity. I don't really want to get into it here, but it's the end of a very long era, and while I'm still in shock from it ending quite so suddenly, I'm hoping it brings happiness and relief to those involved. And.. that's all I really have to say about it. I'm sorry.

On a sidenote, I've been spending more time lately going over some of my old college religion texts. I really miss pounding through them. I'm going to take a piece of my bonus check at work, and go buy some more. Going through one of them in particular really awoke in me something I've been missing, and it's spurred me to a rather interesting decision: I'm going to go back to teaching confirmation.

The lutheran faith has this cute little "ceremony" that teenagers go through where they study the faith, and in a couple years, they go through "confirmation," which basically means they accept and re-confirm their baptism. I used to teach this when I was in High School with my oldest friend Dan, and I'd forgotten why I did it. I want to get back into going to church and getting people to actually THINK about their faith, rather than just blindly singing hymns and going through the motions. Maybe in this I'll find some peace to offset the chaos of late. Who knows, it'll be worth it no matter what. To be part of someone's faith again... I miss that.

So, I've sent out e-mails to a couple of the churches nearby me, and let them know my background, and my philosophy on faith. If they bite, awesome. If they're afraid of it, then I'll move on.

All in all, I'm sad, confused, and desperately wishing I knew what to say to make things better. But maybe I just need to start climbing out of the cave where I've been watching these fake-ass reflections of life and actually start living my own.

God be with me.

EDIT: Quoting-- "The intelligent design movement belittles God. It makes God a designer, an engineer," said Vatican Observatory Director George Coyne, an astrophysicist who is also ordained. "The God of religious faith is a god of love. He did not design me."

It's idiotic stuff like this that makes intelligent christians the source of mockery everywhere. God did not design you? Who are YOU to tell God what he did and did not do! *rage*

Wishes for a lost love

2006-02-12T14:11:00.000-08:00

WISHES FOR A LOST LOVE
by Sean Williams
(reprinted with permission of the author)

I wish for you these things.
I wish you every moment of happiness
I wish you laughter every day, so that you may know the joy you bring to others
I wish you games and play
I wish you footrubs and backrubs and belly rubs
I wish you warmth and comfort
I wish you footlights and spotlights and light in your soul
I wish you the love of God, so that you may know you are never alone
I wish you food and taste, so you may know contentment and flavor
I wish you naps, so you may know rest
I wish you peace
I wish you success and fortune
I wish you eyes wide open, so you may see all the gifts around you
I wish you candlelight and moonlight, so you may know all good things are not easily seen
I wish you kisses and caresses, so you may know bliss
I wish you snow-covered nights, so you may know beauty
I wish you a kitten's purr, so you may know love given freely
I wish you time, that you may know how fleeting it is
I wish you tea, that you may know warmth from within
I wish you hot baths
I wish you a mirror, so you may see what others see in you
But above all these things,
I wish you love.
For you brought that gift to me, and I can never repay it.
May all these things come to you, so that you may know life.

What is Love? (Baby, don't hurt me...)

2006-02-07T20:50:00.000-08:00

So... I ripped the title of this post off from an early 90's pop song. Sue me. (listening to: High, by Feeder)

Is Love a feeling that you have, something that you share with someone, or something that is shown by what you do?

For example, if I think that I'm in love with someone who doesn't love me back, am I really in love? If and when I get over that feeling, will I look back on it and say, "Boy.. was I wrong about that." Or, will I always carry that scar and learn to bear it proudly, saying "This hurt, but I'm stronger for it."

Or, is love only really love when you have someone to share it with? Someone you lie next to and stay awake just to hear them fall asleep, and then mumble under their breath something only for you to hear (and possibly make fun of them later for)? Someone who can look into your eyes and see you just as you see them when you look into theirs? Is THAT what love means?

Or, finally, is it Love only when someone can look at the things you've done and say, "Wow. That person must really be in love with that other person. Look at what they've done." Can two people love each other without ever telling the other person? My friend Daisy, ironically, is fascinated with unrequited love. Is love still unrequited if both people feel the same way, but never actually say the words?

Or is it some combination of these? Can I love someone who doesn't love me, never share that love with them, but show how much I love them by giving up my love and allowing them to love another? Giving them up truly, completely, knowing they will never feel the same way for you no matter how much you give them? Or is it only really love when both people agree that they are "in love," and willing to do whatever it takes to preserve such an amazing occurance? When you consider the odds that the person you love actually loves you back, and that one of you is willing to say it... well, it's staggering just how unlikely that is compared with the heartbreak that occurs nearly every single hour of every day. From some pigtailed girl circling "No," to the wife who can't take not loving her husband anymore and leaves him... it seems that love is doomed almost from the start. Maybe it's better never to have loved at all, if the end of the road is so much more likely to end in pain.

What is love?
Baby don't hurt me,
Baby don't hurt me,
No more.

State of the Union (My 51st post!)

2006-01-26T05:32:00.000-08:00

My fellow bloggers, I come to you today to talk about the state of affairs in this great blog of ours. (listening to: "Give Judy My Notice" by Ben Folds. *great song*)

Well, folks. Here we are, towards the end of January of 2006, nearly halfway through my golden year (which I'm told is either the best year of your life, or your worst), and where are we at? Well, let's take a look at the numbers.

I'm still working here at the office, making this job officially the longest I've ever worked for one company without a hiatus. It's not horrible. The people are great, and the job is settling into a routine that's somewhat comforting. It's difficult to work here sometimes, what with all the problems and the yelling customers and the demands on us all the time, and not to mention the small population of co-workers who secretly hate me for bringing escalated Nerf warfare to the maze of cubes. But, it's a great paycheck, and I seem to be pretty good at it, so... I'll probably stick around awhile. See what happens. Y'know. 'Cause I got nothing better to do. :)

Tonight is my penultimate performance of We Gotta Bingo. I'm going to miss it. The cast I've worked with forever has been SO great (and bitchy about me leaving them), that it's going to be tough not going back there 4x a week. But, I think I've come to a point where I need to get things back in order, and while the money's great, I lose so much of my young life there in a tiny, thankless role that I just can't do it anymore. Bingo, you've been good to me, but this rambler's got to get ramblin'.

With the close of Bingo, I'm preparing to head back to Comedy Sportz, a world I only tasted briefly before being thrown back into the world of theatre. And, oh, how I miss it. Short-form improv is what I "grew up" on, and while Long-form is my true love, sometimes you gotta spend time with the mistress. My heart belongs to CSz, and soon I'll be back with a bullet.

The one-acts went pretty well at CHS. We had a bit of trouble with an actor's parents pulling him out of a student-directed show due to content, and so that show was unable to showcase their final performance. I felt really bad for them. They worked very hard, and the show was pretty decent. These things happen, I guess.
BOY, did I get an earful from the mother, though. She thought it fitting to exercise her moral imperative on me and the rest of the one-act audience, and demanded that all questionable material be removed. We compromised and determined that a warning should be given that some of the shows be assigned a "PG-13" rating (something I admittedly should have done at the beginning). And now all that's left is our regional competition this weekend in Albertville. If you're bored, we're scheduled at 1:50pm at St. Michael-Albertville HS, and the show is really, really good. I'm so proud of the students. They've done such a good job with so little from me as I've been able to give them due to the previous two paragraphs, that I'm amazed this thing came together at all. A real testament to them.

Acting has been very good to me this year. After performing a HORRIBLE show at the Brave New Workshop (not their fault, it was part of the summer series, and the script was.. well, I'm sure if we could have found the thing, it would have been good), Everything kind of flew in. I met a talented actor doing Bingo, and I think that we're going to eventually do some more theatre together. If you have a chance to see Charles Hubbell on stage or on film, I recommend the experience. He likes Serenity, so he can't be all that bad. He's kind of kicked me in the ass to get new headshots and get an agent (something I've never wanted, but he convinced me that it would be a good idea), so we'll see how all that turns out in the coming weeks. I imagine I'll have a digital image to post up here relatively soon.

I'd like to take a brief paragraph here to talk about my faith. I'm not a church-goer. I'll admit it. I've never liked going, and I've never gotten the charge out of it that others may find there. Sometimes it's less of a chore than others, and I've actually been to some really amazing services with Daisy, but... it's just not something that lights me up. That being said, I DO believe and have a relationship with God. I rely on Him daily (especially lately.. more on that to come), and I know that He's got my back. He's a good guy to have in your corner, and I feel that while I can always get closer to Him, at the moment, things seem ok. I'm not sure He's driving my life as he should, but he's working the gas pedals while I steer. It's a good first step.

My brother is in Iraq, fighting for... well, I'm not really sure what he's fighting for, but he's there. He'll be fine. He's on some Air force base in the desert, and I've told him that I expect to be given some glass made from the jet engines burning the sand out there. If he comes back without it, I'm not going to be best man in his wedding. There. I said it. (yeah. he's getting married. little bastard is 3.5 years younger than me, and he found an amazing girl who loves him. jerk.)

Personally, it's been a very rough few months. I met a girl doing We Gotta Bingo, and we seemed to hit it off rather well. I gave her my number but, as is often the case, she hasn't called. I don't imagine she will, since it's been over a week now, but... it was good to imagine myself back out there.

My best friend and I are going through some very rough times. As some of you know, she's gotten herself a boyfriend in November, and I haven't seen much of her since then. The guy is decent, as far as I can tell, and I've got nothing against him personally, besides the obvious. :) He's good for her, forcing her out of her shell, and I hope that he's bringing out a new aspect to her that I wasn't able to. She deserves to be happy, and I wish them all the best.

That being said, I miss her. A lot. I miss the time we spent together constantly, and the closeness we had. It may be bad form to write all this down here, but it's a State of the Union, and my union is very lonely. I know she's happy where she is, and that should make me happy for her, but it doesn't. And I wish I could be a better friend to her in that respect. I really do.

On a related note, My buddy Leachate and I are spending more time together, and finding that for some reason unknown to the two of us, we're still friends. We disagree on nearly everything, and never miss an opportunity to bitch each other out, but it's all in good humor, and he's the oldest friend I have (in terms of length of friendship, not chronological age). He's a pretty good WoW player, and I think we're creating something there that is beginning to take off. I'd get into it here, but it's nerdy, and I've exposed enough of my nerd nerve already on here.

All in all, it's not the best year of my life, but it's really not the worst either (despite how I may act at times. I have a little hope left that things will turn around). What is the state of this union? It's a lot like the state of our actual union. We're broken, trying to stop the bleeding, and there's a lot of internal struggle. But somehow, we find a way to keep going. And with a little luck, and a lot of faith, we'll find our way through this tunnel to the light at the end of it.

God Bless you all, and let's hope for a great 2006.

Strange Dreams

2005-12-30T12:03:00.000-08:00

Weirdest dream last night... so odd... (listening to: People at work)

So, I fell asleep very late last night after a phone conversation that left me a little unsettled, and I had the oddest dream. It's really two, but they seemed to merge together, and their themes are similar, so I'm classifying it as one.

I begin the dream in the middle (as most of mine begin). I'm either in high school or college, and I'm participating in a mock trial. I'm one of four or five defense attorneys, and I'm the only one who brought the case brief. The prosecuting attorney stands up and delivers her case, and the judge keeps asking her to slow down, to repeat her evidence, because she's going too fast, and it doesn't make sense to anyone. She finally gets done, and it's my turn to go.

I stand up, and open my plain manila folder and inside is my case, torn neatly into fourths. I suddenly flash back to me ripping the stack of paper the long way, and then the short way and putting it back into the folder. (Why? Who knows. I'm an idiot.) So, I give the pieces to another lawyer on my team, and ask the judge for a recess. Next thing I know I'm in a room (at home? in my office?) and I have a copy of the case. I try to run back to the courtroom, but I keep falling, and I'm running really slow. Time is going by in normal speed, but I can't make my legs move. At this point, I realize it's a dream, and the thought I have is, "I really hope I don't wake up. I think that being a lawyer in a mock trial would be fun."

Next thing I know, I'm waiting outside a room (same deal, high school or college). The walls are all brick, and there are people everywhere. I'm at an audition for "Songs For a New World." Everyone is practicing their songs, and I realize I'm not ready. I don't have a song. I know songs from the show, though, so I go to the auditioner and say, "I'm really good at singing the songs from this show, can I just do one of those for you?" She doesn't answer me, I don't think, but I get the idea that it won't work. So, I decide to sing a medley of verses and snippets from "Jesus Christ Superstar," but I can't remember the piece I want to put in the middle. I'm picturing it in my head, and It's going to start with "Everything's Alright," and end with "Hosanna," but there's a male ballad from the show that I want to put in the middle, but no matter how hard I try, I can't remember it.

Then, I wake up, and go find my JCSuperstar music (Yes, I own the music. Shut up.) and I still can't find the song in there. I'm convinced it exists, though.

What does this mean? I have my thoughts... The common theme is not being good enough, or not being prepared. Not having what I need to succeed. I'm confident in my abilities, willing to do what it takes to get the job done, but something is standing in my way. No matter how hard I try to fix the situation, it's doomed from the start, and I seem to only end up worse off than how I started.

However, this is a wholly depressing way to look at my subconscious, so I'm willing to accept alternate interpretations. Anyone?

The Greatest Pleasure in Life

2005-11-29T20:35:00.000-08:00

I suppose, it's different for everyone. (listening to: "Parallel Stripes" by Aphex Twin)

In the words of Conan the Barbarian: "To see your enemies driven from you, and to hear the lamentations of the women!!"
In the words of Eddie Izzard: "Bacon and eggs... pot of hot coffee bubbling away... freshly-squeezed-mango-juice."
In the words of the Madjai: "Sleeping next to someone."

Yeah.. You heard me. Oh, sure there are more complex pleasures (chief among those being a slice of vanilla bean cheesecake), and there are more, shall we say, hedonistic pleasures (I heard Jessica Simpson is single again... and isn't she "friends" with Reese Witherspoon? Hmm).

But, really, in case you haven't tried it, you should try sleeping next to someone. Sure, there's the whole "naked and sweaty" aspect to that. And, if that's your cup of tea, go for it. More power to you. But, really.. the joy of just cuddling on the couch, watching TV, or reading, and just looking at each other, and deciding it's time for bed is... well, it's just great. Pajamas are put on, covers are pulled back, pillows fluffed, and there's that awkward moment of.. how do we arrange the cuddling here? And then... bliss. You settle into each other's arms, your breathing slows down, and then matches the other person's. You can hear their heart beating time with yours, and you intertwine fingers and legs as you settle in for the night.

If you're really lucky, you get to thinking about some random thing, and the next thing you notice, the other's person's breathing has become deeper, and you realize that they're asleep. You watch their eyelids flutter as they begin to dream, and you pull the hair back from their face as you just watch them. And then, without really knowing it... you're asleep too.

Feeling so close to someone. So close that they'd allow you to experience the most relaxing thing they engage in. So safe, so intimate. THAT is the greatest pleasure in this life.

...

And it's been FAR too long since I've experienced that. And I think that is what I miss the most, of all the things I've lost.

See? I was right!!

2005-11-15T11:12:00.000-08:00

Quick post while I'm at work. (listening to: the gentle tap-tap-tapping of keyboards. Hundreds of them.)

An Article on cnn.com

COMPARE TO:

A Blog by the Madjai

I don't know if I should be celebrating this or not...

Back by Popular Demand...

2005-11-12T08:36:00.000-08:00

Well... Can't disappoint the fans. (listening to the first 30s of Cochise. over and over and over and over and over...)

So, I guess I should probably explain. While there were only two comments on my ending post clamoring for my return, I got a few IMs and E-Mails on the subject, so.. I'm back.

My life has been kind of thrown into upheaveal (sp? that doesn't look right) in the last couple weeks with some incredible personal life stuff that I didn't think would ever happen, but has. So, I've been dealing with all of that and I'm just starting to realize that it might be for the best. (Not personally "best," but.. overall.) So, that and my lack of free time is what made me bring the blog to a close. However, Phoenix-like, I have risen from the ashes, born anew. And I hope that this resurrection will bring about many more in my life that are desperately needed.

Alright. Enough of the emo crap. Let's get down to business. And the business is this...

I AM A ROCK LEGEND

So, I spent $69.99 last night on this "game" for my PS2, and I have to say that if you read any reviews for this game, they are all grossly understating the awesomeness of this game. As many of my friends (see panel on right for links to their blogs) will tell you, The Madjai has no rhythm. At all. None. But, Guitar Hero allows even those with no music to shred on the axe like you're all strung out on coke and warm beer. I played for THREE HOURS last night, and got up this morning, had a pumpkin bar, and played again for another two hours. This game is SO great, I can't even begin to describe how hard it rocks. It's been overused in reference to this game, but it really does go up to 11. Come over and check it out if you can, or... go buy it yourself if you have a PS2. If you buy it and don't like it, I'll personally buy the extra guitar controller from you. Seriously.

In other news, My Bingo Show is going incredibly well. We had a couple of crowds that were less that desirable, but everyone had a good time, and the cast is really starting to get used to haveing me around. ;) Which is nice, considering my major responsibilities include making sure each table has something to eat, and making sure Helmut doesn't leave anything on the stage that he might need later. It's a good way to earn the money I make, but I wish I could have my weekends back to myself. I'm halfway convinced that this show was the cause of the first paragraph... but it might not have been. Well, I won't ever know for sure, so.. why bother fretting over it.

If you're in the Twin Cities area, and would like to come see the show, please let me know and I'll see what I can do for you.

That's about it. I'll try and keep up with y'all.

Rave on, Rave on.

The End of An Era

2005-11-01T17:32:00.000-08:00

Hey all, Welcome to my last blog post. (listening to: the opening theme to House, MD)

So, seeming as how I'm not so very good at blogging, and there's not a whole lot going on with me lately, I'm putting an end to the blog. Thanks to everyone who's supported me, and for all you new visitors. Take a look through the previous posts if you want a good read, and thanks for all the memories.

So long, and farewell.

With an auspicious and a dropping eye

2005-10-10T19:59:00.000-07:00

I take note of the past week. (listening to "El Tango de Roxanne" from the Moulin Rouge Movie Soundtrack)

About Tuesday of last week, I recieved a call from a director that I auditioned for a long time ago. He wanted me for a small role in the show the Actor's Theatre of Minnesota is mounting called "We Gotta Bingo!" Initially, I was very excited. It pays great, and will have amazing visibility. I get to be a member of the founding company, which means royalty rights for any future productions. And then I saw the schedule. Every weekend, Th-F-S nights from now until the end of the year. My heart sank. No more Comedy Sportz. So, as of tonight, I had my last comedy sportz minor league rehearsal in a very long while. I'm going to miss it greatly, but hear me now: I WILL return to you. Oh yes. I will be back. STAY TUNED.

In other news, I spent this past weekend in Postville, IA attending my cousin's wedding. Which wasn't as miserable as I'm pretending it was, but it was still pretty bad. Don't get me wrong. The ceremony was fine, and they're great people, but the whole event was just... not my thing. I feel bad. I really do. I feel like, I was born in a small town like this, this is where I'm from, I should identify more with this. But I don't. I'm big city people now, and I guess I just can't go back to a place where you can't buy a dress shirt without driving an hour away.

But, I did get to school my Dad royally in golf before the weekend was out. Which is always a good thing. And I got a new putter, which I'm dying to try out further. A White Hot Odyssey putter, which as I just found out retails for about $150, depending on where you look. I got mine used at a golf course in Postvill, IA for $10. TEN DOLLARS. AND... the guy gave me $5 for my old Arnold Palmer crap putter. End of the golf season in a small Iowa town makes a guy do strange things. His loss = my gain.

PS- This post is especially for Jill who doesn't think I update my blog enough.

I'll miss ya, Jill.

I'm Hot???!?

2005-10-03T19:06:00.000-07:00

So.. apparently the Madjai has some sort of sex appeal that he was unaware of. (listening to "Astronomy Domine" by Pink Floyd)

I've had two different people from two different parts of my life (one of them is NOT my mom, for those of you who WILL say that) say that I was Hot. And to that, I had to say "B'guh??"

When pressed for more information, they answered almost exactly the same response. It's not that I dress well, or have rugged manly looks, but it's more of the "charming, likable, boyish attractiveness." At which point, I totally got it. A tall, skinny kid who is, admittedly, funny and self-deprecating. Not overly non-stop-god-I-wonder-what-he'd-be-like-in-bed kind of Hot. But, as one of them put it: "Sometimes I look at you and think, 'You know.. Sex would be nice.'"

...

Which is fantastic. I guess I don't understand it, but it's given me something to think about over the last day or so. I'm not "unfortunate looking," and as I've always said, A laugh goes a long way towards a girl's heart. So, I guess all of these minor things combine to form someone who comes off as rather attractive. Which was really nice to hear, since lately I've been feeling rather... shall we say... troll-under-a-bridge.

And it all kind of came to a rather strange point tonight. I was buying cigarettes at a gas station, and I was just hanging out by my car, smoking, just... ya know. Like you do. And this girl pulled up in her car, and she smiled at me as she got out and went into the gas station. I thought nothing of it, and then she came back out and walked right over to me and shyly asked me for a cigarette. I obliged, and she introduced herself, and we shared one of those sweetly awkward "you're cute" conversations that you randomly strike up with people. And she finished her cigarette, and thanked me, and then placed her hand on my shoulder and said, "Bless you." She meant for the cigarette, she wasn't some crazy religious person instilling the spirit of the Lord Jehovah in me. And she did that half-turn, smile, hair tuck that girls are so good at.

And that was it. She drove off, and I had to just smile. I'm attractive. Who knew?

*grin*

An Open and Public Admission

2005-09-27T19:02:00.000-07:00

...of my hatred of baseball. (listening to: the blood pump in my ears, hot and angry like a volcano seething for the blood of a virgin sacrifice)

To Whom it May Concern,

Let it be said, right here and now, that I am not one who uses the term hatred liberally. In fact, as Daisy will tell you, I often jump on people who use it coloquially. Hatred is a very strong term, to be used only when referring to rapists, Nazis and mayonnaise on hamburgers. But right now, this term most definitely applies.

You see, my blog-reading friends, my tuesday custom is watching House, MD. Anyone who's been here before knows this. However, after tonight's episode, I was treated to a wonderful revolution by the folks at FOX. House will return to television on November 1st. No more House... for four weeks. And WHY? So that we can endure... THE BASEBALL POSTSEASON.

Now, I know that Basketball's post-season is longer. Hell, everyone knows that if the post season for hoops goes as long as it theoretically could, the two teams in the NBA Finals might have to send their sweat-wipers to the draft, since they'd air on the same night. But, please. Please, MLBPA, don't take away my House.

Have we not suffered enough? Have we not seen the horrible, demonic Yankees enough that they must now invade my most sacred time of the week simply to flaunt their enormous paychecks? They must run and swing in their crisp pinstripes, showing off how much money they make? How much money the devil gave them when the triumverate of Joe Torre, George Steinbrenner and Richard Nixon (Steinbrenner gave him money to stay quiet. It's true.) all summoned Beezelbub in the Yankees locker room in 1972.

When will it end, ye Gods? Look down on us and have mercy! Ye, who sit above and pull the strings, look down on your suffering children and pity us! Ye have shown grace before. You have given us Football, and knowing that we shall only watch it on weekends, have ensured that no distracting goodness on network TV shall interrupt. But dark was the day that you plotted to send us House on FOX; knowing full well that Rupert Murdoch, in his lust for gold dubloons had also purchased (spit) Postseason baseball. You sent us signs, oh Ye of the Heavens, and we did not see. You sent prophets to say that when the devil came to make our lives miserable, he would be foreshadowed by a voice. A voice that would speak lies and tell us only things that would serve His evil purpose. You told us this, and yet we saw FOX News and did not understand. Please, pity us! Send us back the bitter and misanthropic doctor who, for one blessed hour in a week, makes us feel as if we are not the only ones who suffer.

Today, my heart hangs heavy. Today I have learned that, like Penelope, it shall be a very long time before I see my loved (Hugh Laurie is my non-sexual mancrush) one again. But when we pass around the dark side of the moon that is the baseball postseason, the light on the horizon shall be in the form of a doctor who cares not for us, but for that which plagues us. And it shall be Good.

Officially Unofficial

2005-09-11T15:53:00.000-07:00

Well, the day is came. I'm unofficially 50% of my way through my five-year plan, and with 3 years left in it. (listening to "Meeting Shatner," by Ben Folds)

So, it's all saturday and whatever, and I'm completely bored. I take a late nap, talk to Biggy for a while, and I leave my usual Saturday appointment: Comedy Sportz.

As I get there and stand in line for my ticket, one of the guys working the door who I've talked to and know fairly well motions for me to just come in. I figure he thinks it doesn't matter if I get a ticket or not, since I get in for free whenever, and it is close to show time. So, I come in, and when I get to the door to the theatre, he tells me to wait. Hmm. Wait for what?

I'm there for all of two seconds when Doug, the artistic director of CSz comes out and pulls me aside. He tells me they've had someone who couldn't come in, and they were shorthanded to begin with, and then asks me if I'd like to play some Comedy Sportz tonight. Boy... Would I.

I suit up and take the field as a member of the blue team under captain Nica Halula. We took on the team of Captain Cory Brooks and Halsey Lundquist of the St. Paul Fire, and, unfortunately, lost a barn-burner that went until the final game, 27-21. Nica was patient with me, teaching me what I needed to know in order to make it all work, and for my first official show with the Minneapolis CSz team... it went exceptionally well. I wish any of you could have been there to see it.

More will come, and I'm still set up for the show on September 29th. So, please make reservations for that show. I don't know if Doug was pleased with my performance enough to consider making me a permanent member of the team, but he did say that he was impressed for my first show. I will keep you all updated, as this is a rather big deal for me.

Thanks to all, and stay tuned!

Gee.. What could there possibly be to talk about?

2005-09-05T20:09:00.000-07:00

Well, since it's been an entirely uneventful two weeks since last I blogged, I have no idea what I should talk about today. (listening to "My Bones Ache" by My Skeleton)

I've got a cold I can't shake, and I haven't been sleeping well the last few nights. So, naturally, this leads to a bit of the achy joints. But have no fear, bloggites. The wheel keeps on spinning 'round.

Let's see... first things first. The DVD of House MD, Season One came out a week ago Tuesday, and I took the first opportunity I could to run over to Best Buy and pick it up. I spent the next three days watching each of the 22 episodes in order of airdate. (They were actually shot in a different order, leading to a few continuity problems) Can I just say: Fantastic. Hugh Laurie has been nominated for an Emmy for his performance as misanthropic Dr. House, and many predict him to win. It is important to note, however, that the show did not recieve a nomination. While well written, the first season relied heavily upon formula, only straying slightly towards the end. I pray that the writers have the good sense to carry on with this trend and see where it takes them. I should think the message that a character, and not the show itself earned the attention of the Emmy committee, would not escape the makers of this phenomenal program, and they would realize that focusing on this cast of strange and unusual characters is the way to go. But hey. I just watch the show. Season Two begins Tuesday, Sept. 13th on FOX. Viewer Discretion is advised.

I am trying to decide how best to address the catastrophe of biblical proportions going on in the Big Easy. So much has been said, while at the same time so little is actually being said. I think it's strange that CUBA is offering aid, and the US is ignoring them. Now, I know that we don't like Cuba. Really. I get it. Nearly 40 years with no talky. Ok. But hey... LOOK. The end of the world is coming to New Orleans, and they're RIGHT THERE. With medicine, supplies, and doctors. They don't want a change in foreign policy; they want to help. And we're pretending they're not there like siblings in the back of a car on a roadtrip. Please, Mr. Bush. Please pull your head out of whatever bureaucratic nonsense you've got going on right now, and HELP. That is all.

Folks, I'd like to lighten the mood a bit by giving you all advance warning of my first Comedy Sportz show, coming up on September 29th. The last Thursday of the month, at 8pm, I'll be premiering with the rest of my minor league team at the Comedy Dome in Uptown Minneapolis. PLEASE call and make reservations so that the numbers can go up. We'd love to pack the place, so please: if you can make it, do. Call (612) 870-1230. Thanks. And I hope to see you all there!

Final words: I've been very introspective in the last week, trying to figure myself out. I think I'm on to something, and hopefully will have something to talk about soon. Stay tuned.

A Relaxing Weekend

2005-08-28T19:23:00.000-07:00

Boy... I didn't do S#!^ at all all weekend. For the love of... (listening to "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus)

So.. Far be it from me to call MYSELF a lame-ass. But.. seriously. You've got to hear this. About two months ago, a buddy of mine from work went and planted trees along the Mississippi river gorge to help out the enviroment... or something. Really, the only reason we were there was to win White Stripes tickets. Which we did. This weekend. However. I, being the super-genius that I am wrote down on my calendar that the concert was Saturday, when in actuality.... Friday. Yeehaw for the bonehead society.

So, yeah.. no concert. Instead, I played poker at a local bar on Friday, cleaned my apartment and saw Comedy Sportz on Saturday and hung out around the house and hung out with Ender all day today. *sigh*

Somebody, anybody, please save me from myself. On a higher note, when spending copious amounts of time alone, you get to find interesting websites. I've never been a huge fan of the online "find your match" quizzes, but I found one that was really strange. Caught my eye. I think it works on numerology and something else with the birthdate, but I haven't been able to figure it out. Anyway, it's a pretty accurate "crush" test. Basically, you give it your name, and answer the questions, and it spits out a short little synopsis of your dating and crush tendencies. Kinda neat. Here's the link:
Click Me

Let me know if you can figure it out. Until next time!

WELCOME HOME!

2005-08-20T13:54:00.000-07:00

Welcome the newest addition to the Madjai family. His name is Ender. It's a poor picture, I know, but I promise to add a better one when my digital camera stops acting like a petulant stepchild. (listening to "Shy" by Ani DiFranco)

I was talking to Scorcho today online, and told him that I had to bail on him to go to my saturday ritual: Going to Petco to their "Last Hope" pet adoption day. I've been there a few times, and found kittens that I liked, but none of them had ever quite captured my attention like Ender. As I walked past his cage, he was napping. I walked around the corner of his little wire home and he perked up and looked up at me. I looked down at him, and knelt to get a closer look. He sat up, and extended a paw out of his cage. I couldn't help thinking that this was pretty strange behavior from a cat that must have seen dozens of kids sticking their chubby fingers in his cage all day. I let his paw come to rest on my finger, and he pulled it towards him. I rested my finger on the wire, and he nuzzled up against it, itching his whiskers on my outstretched finger. He and I spent a few moments like this, until he roller over on his back, a clear sign that he wanted his belly rubbed. Well, this was too much for me, so I asked one of the foster moms to come over and open his cage.

She came over, and little Ender walked over and allowed me to pick him up. I held him for a while, and he just laid on my arms, purring away, content with the world. I spoke to his foster mom for a while, and she told me that he loved to sit up on shoulders. So... of course I let him. As it turns out, she was right. He does indeed like the vantage point up there. After a while, I picked him off my shoulder, and moved to put him back in the cage. As he figured out what was going on, he turned around and latched his claws into my shirt, holding on to me for dear life. That was it for me. I was hooked. 20 minutes later, he was on his way home with me. He's now watching me blog from the top of the reclining chair back, staring at me as if to say, "Well, actlete, I'm home. What now?"

Good question, Ender. Let's find out.

Can You See What I See?

2005-08-04T19:57:00.000-07:00

Ahhh.. a blog post inspired by a comment. Got to love it. (listening to: "Killing in the Name," Rage Against the Machine)

A very valid point was brought up after my last post, and I was very suprised that I hadn't thought of it myself first. The question is: Are the superhero/sidekick roles defined? or are they fluid? The example given was that if someone sees themselves as a sidekick, but to someone else they are a superhero.. who is right?

To that, I had no immediate response. I mean, that's an excellent question. Normally, I would just come right out and say, "Well, it's relative, I guess. If you see yourself as a sidekick, then that's what you are. If someone sees you as a superhero, then to them you are one." But that didn't seem so sit right for some reason. And then, today, I was scouring the internet for movie quotes, and I came upon a classic from Woody Allen, and everything made sense. Here it is: "I would never want to join a club that would have me as a member."

Of COURSE. THANK YOU, Mr. Allen. See, the simple nature of Superheroes is so unbelievably larger-than-life, that anyone who thinks of themselves as a sidekick can not possibly have what it takes to be a superhero. To fight for truth, justice, and the American Way, a person must believe inside of them that they're the ones who make the differences so that anyone who thinks its their job to assist, to be the mirror that reflects, is almost immediately disqualified.

Having said that, there are a few very rare cases. Superman himself grew up in Smallville as a young boy, raised by adoptive parents. I doubt very highly that he thought of himself running around in a red and blue spandex suit saving Ms. Lois Lane someday while walking the halls of Smallville High, no matter what the WB might tell me.

So, in these rare cases, it turns out that by having someone believe in them, by finding a sidekick to back them up, to always pick them up when they fall, to iron their capes on the off days; these superheroes become so BECAUSE of their sidekicks. That's irony.

So, to answer the question at hand, I would say yes. The roles are flexible, but only very slightly. And, as it turns out, with enough mirrors it becomes hard to tell which is the candle, and which is the illusion.

Superheroes and Sidekicks

2005-07-23T20:08:00.000-07:00

I request that all who read this reserve judgement on the overall tone of this post. I know how it sounds. Believe me. (listening to: Sweetness, Jimmy Eat World)

So.. I had the afternoon to myself today, and I decided rather than sit around and do nothing but play video games and frig in the rig, I would go and be productive. So, I took my trusty laptop to the Apple store and get her battery replaced. Stupid thing wouldn't charge. I stepped around the mall wondering what I would do with the rest of my afternoon, and decided to go to a movie. Having certain cinematic selections prohibited from solo viewing due to contractual obligations with my dedicated movie partner, I elected to see one that I had already (kind of) seen. Batman Begins. You see, bloggers, I had seen this movie with a start time of 10:30 on a work night with said partner and some friends of hers in a town quite far from my own. Needless to say, it being a 2+ hour movie, I missed certain elements. So, Batman it was.

But, this shall not be a blog about the film (which, by the way, is highly recommended on two key elements- 1) The actor who plays The Scarecrow and 2) the simple, uncomplicated fact that at the end of the film, Katie holmes is sans bra. Genius bit of directing. Genius.)

Nay, this is a blog inspired by an unlikely source- the previews. In fact, a single preview. And for a movie I really have no intention of seeing. See, the movie in question here is Sky High a by-the-numbers Disney flick about a high school for kids of superheroes. In one particular section of the preview, it is outlined that upon arrival at Sky High, each student undergoes a test. They must stand in the middle of the gymnasium while an insanely heavy object is dropped on them from above. The point? If the student is quick-witted or talented enough to use their given superpower, they are destined to become a superhero. If they are squooshed... Sidekick.

Which got me to thinking... (marvelous segue, I know) How many people live lives of quiet desperation? The mass of them, right Henry? HDT: "Right, Madjai." So, really... such a person has two choices. Fade away into the shadows and wait it out, or, step up to the plate and do something important- watch out for someone who truly is... important. A cheesy saying goes, "There are two ways to spread light. To be the candle, or the light that reflects it." Hmm. Makes sense. Sign me up.

Now, where is this all coming from, you may ask. Trust in me, my bloggites. This is not the Madjai you know, simply getting down in the mouth about life again. This is what I like to call "accurate self-assesment." Time for a reality check. Yes, it's true that I just made callbacks for Comedy Sportz, which leaves me part-way to one of my two main goals within 5 years of college. But let's be honest. Few people who set themselves a goal to live comfortably doing only what they love ever make it. I've accepted this. What I'm now learning to accept is the absence something I've always wanted for myself: Someone to love, who loves me. But, let's check the violins at the door, and get back to my point.

The trick about learning that you're not going to be a superhero is finding one who needs a sidekick, and learning how best to serve them. What can you offer them that they need? This is something I'm really good at. See, I'm pretty darn good at helping out a superhero find their keys, their cellphone, their iPod, whatever. I'm really good at always being there when they need someone, and I'm REALLY good at getting them what they need when they need it. Coffee, bagel, whatever. But the trick with sidekicks is... they're much more behind-the-scenes than you think. When the superhero begins to doubt their lot in life, it's the sidekick who tells them to snap out of it and accept the greatness. When the superhero doesn't think they can go on, the sidekick is there to pick them back up and put them on their feet. We're the extra leg, the wallet, the car, the dinner out, the whatever it takes to keep the people who make the world a brighter place to live keep shining. We're the mirror. And that's noble. No matter what anyone says.

And if the story ended there, that would be great. That was kind of a nice last line, too. Maybe I should end this there... but that wouldn't be the kind of blog you'd expect from me now would it? See.. a sidekick can only go for so long, before they start to wind down. We start to get jealous. Maybe Batman likes Batgirl a little bit more than me. See, when a superhero says, "I can handle this." What a sidekick hears is, "I don't need you anymore." And for someone who doesn't get a lot of glory, and who has to live in the shadow of greatness and never touch any of it, each sting feels so much worse. We can only take so many shots to the pride before we begin to break down, begin to lose faith, begin to harden our hearts and become more and more callous. We don't mean to, superheroes, we really don't. We don't mean to be snippy or snotty or rude or jealous, or any of the other attributes that make us seem so undesirable. We simply want to be... desirable. We want to feel needed. Appreciated. Needed was a better word.

So, I guess what this all boils down to is... we're sorry, big guys. We're really, really sorry for being such pricks all the time. But if you could only see yourselves the way we see you... you too would see why we wonder why you keep us around.

PS- The bra comment... tongue in cheek, folks.

kinda. ;)

Buried Treasure

2005-07-04T10:06:00.000-07:00

Looky Looky what I found!! (listening to: an angelic choir)

So.. a long time ago, Biggy asked me to find an old story that he had written to me on one of my IM "away" sessions. Well. I found it. :)

The part at the end refers to the video game "Kingdom Hearts," which the group had gotten quite into about this time. Please note, I've left the spelling and grammatical errors in, to keep the "Freshness" of the story. Enjoy, as so many others have.

Andy says:
Why is it necessary for you to sign on three times when any average person would be ok with doing it just once? Hmmm? And now you're gonna be a bastard and not talk to me. You know what happens then… Stories.

So I'm on the family Yacht, and we're cruising around in the pacific off the Mexican coast. And we were grilling, and I had already eaten about 4 burgers and I didn't want to finish my 5th, so I tossed it off the side thinking nothing of it. Then my dad stops so we can get all set up to go wakeboarding.

So I'm splashing around trying to get the damn board on my feet. Have you ever tried to do that? It's hard as fuck. Then I feel something moving around in the water, but think nothing of it, thinking it's probably just the rope. So I get all ready and dad guns it. I fell down like you do the first couple of times unless you're a professional. Damn those guys. I feel something swimming around again and this time I'm a little freaked out because there is no slack in the rope.
Third time, I get up, but we're going pretty slow, because dad has the motor set in the water all wrong and I'm big so the boat is dragging a little, I tell him to turn it up. He misinterprets and thinks something’s wrong so he stops, suddenly there is something nibbling on my leg... Nay, not simply nibbling, but like a large dog "playfully" biting at my leg. I freak out a little and start thrashing around. Suddenly I get drug underwater, luckily I got a good breath in, I open my eyes (it's ok, it's salt water, good for the eyes) and see this Jaws-like creature tugging at my leg

I punched him in the face. and made it back up for some more air, he pulls me under again. By now, he has torn my flesh a little so I'm bleeding and a bunch of his little friends have show up. So I'm like ok, I have about a minute and a half of air. So I target the big one (by pushing R1) and take him the fuck out with some fira, then there's about 12 little ones. I’m thinking oh great just like seed two in the Pegasus cup. So I start using my berserker (or whatever) combo and take out about 6 of them. By now I'm down to like 30 sec of air. I'm down on magic and forgot to equip some ether back on the boat. I'm halfway through my hitpoints and I used up all my potion on Donald cause he's a worthless bastard.

So I'm like, fucking A. Just like Nam, me surrounded by 6 Charlie with like 4 rounds left in my gun. So I fucking start attacking this way and that. 2 down, 15 seconds left, 5 down. I'm down to 3 seconds, 1 fucker left and he's just out of reach so I do my rolly thing (yeah in water. I'm THAT good) and I whoop his ass, with one second left to ascend 15 feet to the surface. I come up gasping for breath and my dad is standing at the back of the boat cussing up a storm. He looks at me and says: "What the hell are you doing? I thought you fucking drowned. If you suck this bad at wakeboarding, I'm not pulling you anymore." I tried to explain what happened, but he just said "Baaa" and I got back in the boat and got drunk with my gay uncle on White Russians.

Andy says:
The end

80% of Major Procedures

2005-06-30T19:43:00.000-07:00

is covered by my insurance. (listening to "Same Old Thing" by The Streets)

So... my efforts to fully avoid any sort of dentistry ends after a stretch of about 6 years. Hutt-ah.

I'm going to be four teeth dumber as of tomorrow morning. That's right, bloggites. On July the first at 9am, I'm having my wisdom teeth removed forcibly from my jaw. One of them has been giving me quite the bad time recently, and so I'm not going to take any more of its guff. Wisdy, you're cut from the team.

I went to the dentist today to get my referral to the Oral Surgeon (which just sounds dirty to me. Don't ask why.) and the x-rays of my offending tooth is actually quite humorous. Apparently the term "wisdom tooth" is a bit of a misnomer, since the other, less-wise teeth had no problem coming in parallel to their neighbors. Unlike our friend Wisdy, which apparently was dropped on its little tooth head when it was small. 45 degrees is not straight, Wisdy! Get your S together. What a buzzkill.

Anyway, I'm slightly nervous regarding tomorrow's procedure. They asked if I wanted to be awake for the "extraction" tomorrow, and I said to myself, "You know, in spite of the fact that there will probably be little 'pain,' (novocaine is my friend) I really don't think I want the memory of four large teeth being ripped from my jaw to haunt me. In fact, if possible, can I be allowed to wake up next wednesday sometime?" So, I'll be unconscious while they tear into my jawbone, thankyouverymuch.

Those of you who are the praying type, please feel free to genuflect with me in mind this evening. Those of you who aren't, raise a glass to my health tomorrow morning. Here's hoping I wake up from the drug-induced coma. If not, whoever's in charge of my estate please keep in mind that whoever can write the best one-page essay about how great I was can have first dibs on my stuff.

That is all.

June 18, 2005

2005-06-19T20:26:00.000-07:00

A day that shall live forever in time. (listening to: "Good Times" by the Counting Crows)

*insert fanfare and ticker tape parade*

Folks, I want everyone to know that I am having the numbers 6-18-05 tattooed on each arm so that I shall never forget what happened on this day. What could be so great, you ask? Well... allow me to link. but, first... for drama's sake, I'm going to insert a bunch of br tags so that the image below isn't shown until you've read this. And now... Scroll down.

THEY'RE BACK

Sweet mother of God, life is tasty again!!!

*insert angelic choir*

As I sat in my lonely... oh how lonely... apartment on Saturday morning, I felt hungry. So, I went to the kitchen. Snacks only. No "Food." So, I went to go buy food. Now, ordinarily, my grocer of choice is Super Target(r). They have sushi in the deli, and the most amazing peasant bread you've ever dipped in oil. But, something... something I would come to understand later as Divine Intervention (Do you know what divine intervention means, Vincent?) called me to Cub Foods. So, I made my way to the home of the bumper stickers I hate ever so much (I (h) my Cub??? *puke*). Once there, I ran into an old friend I have not seen in months, and thought, "My. fancy that. How odd." Then... as is my routine in every grocery store I visit since my junior year of high school.. straight to the frozen treats section to seek out the above yumminess. And there.... glowing in freakish, pure, radiant angelic light.... were the pops. Exactly as I remember them (though.. strangely more phallic shaped than they once were). I did a disco dance of happiness (you really should have seen that) and let out my high pitched shriek of happiness that only few people have ever heard. Ask them. It's quite the scene. I ran to a nearby grocery shopper and exclaimed, "Did you know!?!? Can you see!??! They're back!!!" After apologizing and talking them out of a very possible assault charge, I regained what composure is possible after a childhood wish is fulfilled.

I called as many people as I could that day to inform them of the good news. I felt very much like the archangel Gabriel. "Fear not, fair citizens! For I bring great tidings of glad joy. Today, re-born unto you in the city of Apple Valley is a dessert. A dessert unlike any other. And you shall call them Pudding Pops."

Amen.

15 Things

2005-06-05T17:32:00.000-07:00

Inspiration from Daisy's blog, part one. (listening to "Turn Me On," Norah Jones)

So, Daisy has posed the thought of compiling a list of 15 things you look for in finding a potential mate. While this can be limiting in the manner that if you have a specific list of things that you look for when looking for someone, you're likely to miss someone great who may not "fit the bill," I think it's important to know where to start from. In that vein, here's my impromptu list. Let's begin, in no particular order.

1) Conversationalist. Any good relationship should begin with the ability to converse on a deeper level than "Fire bad, tree pretty."
2) Trusting. While trust must be earned, and that comes not easily, the ability to have faith in someone, and know that you can always count on them is integral to any good relationship.
3) Likes skinny guys. I, myself am skinny. So, liking that would be near the top of the list.
4) Tolerant. I think this point pretty much speaks for itself. While I'm not a big fan of the word itself (holds connotations of grudging acceptance, rather than true admiration), the spirit of acceptance of differences is a big deal for me.
5) Forgiving. I F up. More than my fair share. And forgiveness following my contriteness... necessary.
6) Accountability. The ability to hold both herself and myself accoutable for mistakes and successes kinda flows hand in hand with Forgiveness. Only after we've accepted the fact that we've F'ed up, can we be forgiven for it.
7) Attractiveness. Call me shallow. I've got 15 things, and yeah, this is one of them.
8) Cuddly. I'm a physical person. I like to hold and be held.
9) Philosopher. Having thoughts and opinions on why we do the things we do and why things are the way they are reveals a sense of self-awareness and responsibility. Speaking of which...
10) Responsibility. When I worked for a children's theatre company, one of their core values was "Be impeccable with your word." Which, very simply, means if you say you're going to do something, do it. Responsibility is a grown up word for honesty, with a slight moral upgrade. And... at 23, I think I fall into that category (grown-up).
11) Experimental. I like trying new things, and I like people to try new things with me. Be it Skydiving or Sushi, come along for the ride.
12) Commitment. Things get tough. Good times come and go, and there are fights and hair-tearing-out moments. The ability to stick through that knowing that there's something underneath all of that not worth losing... well, that's the girl for me.
13) Humor. If this were an ordered list, this would probably be up a bit higher. What I lack in physical beauty, I make up for in mirth. Come and laugh with me.
14) Humility. We are what we are. And to recognize that we're all flawed people with things to learn from each other is the first step towards real intimacy.
15) Spiritual. Last and not AT ALL least. While we don't necessarily have to agree on the finer points of our respective faith-systems, to believe that a higher power guides us and watches over us hoping for the best... that's a big deal with me.

Anything I missed? Probably. But this is a good start. Think you fit the bill? Drop me a line. :)

What's in a name?

2005-05-24T18:58:00.000-07:00

Or, Metaphorical Musings on Matrimony, Matchmaking and Miles Davis. (listening to "High Hopes" by Pink Floyd)

By now, most of you are thinking.. Wait.. Madjai's blogging on a tuesday... Sure wish I would have caught House last night so I'd know what the #*!! he is going to talk about. Heh heh.. how well you know me, my blogging friends. How well you know me. [Note- before I begin here, I'd like to mention that the above song will be played on a loop throughout the entire time I write this blog. It has the most hauntingly beautiful piano hook I've ever heard. If you don't know the song... here is your official carved-in-stone, gold-stamped kick-in-the-ass sealed invitation to do so. Right now. Go.]

You all know how much I hate (and yet use so often) sidebars in my blog, so I'll get this out there right now: I'm writing this entry with two broken bones. That's right, kids- Madjai was playing softball, and in the most bonehead move since Buckner's ball off the pebble, I broke a small bone in my wrist, and earned myself a compaction fracture in my elbow on the same fall. Chicks just DIG a guy who can't run the bases. And I wonder why I have to watch TV alone... sigh.

The prompting line in this week's (and season finale) episode of the only TV I'll watch was uttered by an actress that I've always thought was a tad overrated. However, Sela Ward's performance as House's ex-(wife? girlfriend? fiance?) was spot-on and a just fiery enough. Her line to House, as Season One ends: "You were the one. Always will be. But I can't be with you."

... [blink, blink] ...

Does this happen? I mean, clearly it does. The logic she uses (See the episode. I can't go into it all here. It spans at LEAST two whole shows) seems tight enough... but come on. Girls, back me up here. Isn't the whole point of being "the one," that you're the guy she spends her whole life with? The one she's willing to wear the ridiculous (and hot) lingerie for? The one who DOESN'T get laughed at when you reveal your stupidest and most foolish insecurity? ... Tell you what, I'll take back that petition. Let's ask Keanu Reeves what it means to be "the one." After all, he got three movies and ended his career as the chosen one with a cross of light eminating from his forehead. I didn't hear Trinity coming up behind him and saying, "Yeah. You're the one. But..."

Maybe she's right. Maybe life really isn't about finding that one person who's perfect for you, and holding on to them forever. Maybe life really is about finding someone who you can get along with. Even if that means settling for something you know isn't as good. Can you really go to the Outback and order a cheeseburger? Maybe that's how it is... Maybe that's how it should be. I've always been a bit too idealistic for my own good. Certainly the events of my own life tend to lean towards the philosophy of "Get what you can." But aren't the rewards of getting what you've always wanted and never lost sight of enough to make the journey worth it all? Or is there a point when you should simply cut your losses and say,

"You know what, I'll just have the salad."

Cast your vote!!

2005-05-10T19:36:00.000-07:00

Step right up and make your voice heard!! (listening to: "Superman is Dead" by Our Lady Peace)

That's right, folks. Time to make yourself known, and influence history just a little bit. I have grown both completely ambivalent and simultaneously whimsical about my physical appearance. So, like a bad reality TV show, I offer this choice to you, the blogging public!

-WHO WANTS TO SHAVE AN AMERICAN GOATEE-

Since I began my new job, I've had my often-on, sometimes-off goatee. Now it's up to you: Do I keep the manly, rugged, outdoorsy (curiously mainstream... sad) goatee? or do I become shorn and regain my boyish good looks? Cast your votes! Once there are at least nine comments on this blog post, I shall let majority rule.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Madjai! I've just stumbled upon your blog, and wish to take part in this monumentous event! But I don't know what to base my opinion on! Show me my options?" Well, young visitor... ask and you shall recieve.

The polls are open!!

Standing On My Feet...

2005-04-30T22:38:00.000-07:00

And praying to God they know how to jump. (listening to "Let Go" by Frou Frou)

Here's what I'm thinking: What does it take to make something work? A recipe, an idea, a thought, a philosophy, a dinner reservation, a friendship, an assembly line, a picture frame...

motivation.

Impetus, the drive, desire, the Mojo. Something deep inside of you that forces you to re-examine everything and find purpose in an otherwise hopeless situation. I used to wonder why people let themselves get so hopelessly lost in an idea that they couldn't see the forest for the trees. How do people get so caught up in what they think they can do or find that they've totally lost sight of where they are?

And now I'm one of those people. You stand there, and you say.. "I'm only going this far, and then I'll see what really matters." And then someone comes along and draws a line in the sand saying, "Come this much farther." So you look at the line and you think, "Why not? I've come this far?" So you take that extra step, you hope that extra hope and dream that one more wish and pretty soon you look back at where you've been and all you see are lines that fade back into infinity. You don't know where you stand anymore. You don't know where you are. And whoever brought you all that way has grown bored of the game and moved on to someone else they can tempt across the line, and they forget about you except to say, "I knew them once."

I had the drive to step across that line. I knew what it took to make things work. And in my belligerence, I thought that my passion was enough. But here I stand far off my path, and all I can see are lines I've crossed... and everything I did was to try and find that one good thing. To help someone, to be someone, to provide, to care, to comfort, to love. And it's cold and lonely here on this road now. And the wind blows through the leaves and I swear I can hear:

I knew him once.

Choose.

2005-04-19T19:31:00.000-07:00

Choice is at the center of everyone's life... and sometimes even their death. (listening to: Traffic and Nature)

This will be my second House-inspired post. This should come as no suprise to anyone who's been following my admiration of great writing and critical thinking. Here goes.
**DISCLAIMER: Those who are afraid of morally touchy issues, click here.

In this week's episode (sudden tangential random thought: If anyone thinks that using a TV show as a springboard for philosopical thought is stupid, there's the door. Don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out. On second thought, go ahead. Let it.) of House, a man is given the choice: Save your wife's unborn baby, or save her. He chooses her, knowing full well that his wife's wishes are self-sacrifice to save her child. Let that be. The operation to save her life causes her to bleed internally. House now offers this guy a choice: We need to save your baby. Order the C-Section. This, by the way, his wife has NO chance of surviving. The choice, to anyone but this guy is clear: Let her go. Save the baby.

...

I don't think so. See, House says it earlier in the episode: "Tragedy happens." Losing your wife and unborn baby definately qualifies as tragedy, but ordering the death of your wife to save the baby is more than tragedy. That's being asked to choose. Now, I know that the choice here is clear. Mom's probably going to die anyway, so save what you can. But that's NOT what he's being asked. He's being asked to take a PRO-ACTIVE choice to engage in a procedure he knows will kill his wife in order to save his child. People die every day. But he's killing one to save one. THAT is NOT an easy choice. I don't care who you are.
Long story short... he saves his baby, wife dies. He made the right call. But could I have made it? I don't know. I might have, but I would have had to live with the guilt of losing the one woman I cared about more than anything in the world, and knowing that I made the decision to end her life. And I would see her face every day in my baby. My baby that I have to raise alone.

So, what does this have to do with my life? I mean.. this is my blog. Not the House, MD official fan board. Take a look at the title of my blog, folks. This is the ULTIMATE sign of life.

What does it mean to claim responsibility for a life? We see ourselves as victims or circumstance, doing what we can with the hand we're dealt in this life. We take responsibility for our actions, and do what we can with the chance cards that we draw. but what happens to those people who sack up and play boldly those garbage cards they're dealt? They're heroes, or villians, depending on a flip of the coin.

People claim responsibility for lives every day. Parents claim their children very nearly more dearly than their own lives. Doctors work themselves haggard for the life and death all around them. These people stand up to that chance card and say, "F--- off. Not this one. Not today." And me? I've looked death in the eye. And Nietzsche was right: "And when you look long into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you." (Jenseits von Gut und Boese, page unknown) To this day, I wake up at night and think about that 13 year old boy in that car. I see the car speed past me in my mind's eye, and I think, "If I could have, would I have claimed responsibility for that life? That life that ended as I dropped my Blizzard and ran towards him?"

What does that mean? How can I have claimed responsibility for a death I had nothing to do with, and did everything in my power to save? It's a meaningless question I ask myself, and yet it haunts me. Because everyone dies. And this kid didn't have the CHOICE to not get into the car with Mom's highly drunken friend. And this kid didn't get to look out the window at the young couple walking past the car going 65 on a windy road and say, "Someday, I hope I'll go for a walk past a river with my best friend." He didn't get the CHOICE to live. He's dead. And I'm alive. And the game goes on.