Kvetcher in the Rye

"I bid you a heartfelt goodnight."

2005-10-09T01:27:00.000-05:00

from Johnny Carson on his final taping of The Tonight Show in 1992

Bloggers have evolved, died, stuck around, or apathized. There are many who have stuck around on Blogger. Some have moved to MySpace. Others don't care. Some have died.

I am not dead. I care. I'm busy, that's a difference. But, I use MySpace. And that is where I shall set up new camp.

It almost seems like the life of a Blog lasts only as long as your collegiate career. As you enter adulthood and have to earn your living, your correspondence becomes more interpersonal, maintained to phone, IM, and e-mail. No longer are your thoughts made public publication.

Someday, we'll look back. I don't what else we'll do. We'll just look back. Why back? I don't know. Some people might regress enough that they look forward. I might be one. I have no clue.

Blogger, you have been great to me.

So, in the same year as my beloved childhood mall of Windsor Park closes, as well as the TEX calling system at UT Austin ends, I use TEX's final message to say, "Goodbye, and good luck."

2005-04-23T00:06:00.000-05:00

American Cities That Best Fit You:

75% Austin

65% Miami

60% Atlanta

60% Denver

55% Las Vegas

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

Live on, little kitty!

2005-04-22T04:32:00.000-05:00

Enjoy.

2005-04-21T14:25:00.000-05:00

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Ruminations and Announcement

2005-03-31T02:10:00.000-06:00

First things first:

God rest the soul of Carolyn Noseff.

California, be ready for damnation after acquitting a murderer who asked thousand of friends to kill his wife, yet damning a horrible, yet unattached-to-any-murder-weapon husband to death.

And now:

This is post #454 of Kvetcher in the Rye (sometimes known as "Arte es Vida, y Mi Encanta Mi Vida"). This blog will end with post #500. I don't know when #500 comes, but when it comes, that will be the end of this blog.

Let's Play the Feud

2005-03-03T13:48:00.000-06:00

Have you ever had one of those days where you felt like introducing yourself to strangers, "Hello. My name's Richard Dawson," while wearing a pink crushed polyester leisure suit? Or am I just having an oddball day?

Today's day #4 back from my pharyngitical sabbatical (rolls off the tongue, no?), and I immediately had to endure two make-up exams (one of which I'm severely pissed off at myself over: I second-guessed myself on two out of 30 answers on the test, and wound up being correct the first time around. It cost me a C down to a D+. Fortunately, one of them turned out to be correct, so I wound up with a 70 for the exam...not too shabby considering I had a hoarse throat the previous week).

Worry not, I scored a perfect 100 on the other make-up...at least I would hope I would score 100, considering it was a take-home exam. My professor (in Public Speaking) told me that she has had students fail her take-home exams.

WARNING: I am about to explode...

IF YOU FAIL A COLLEGE COURSE TAKE-HOME EXAM, THEN WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD ARE YOU DOING IN COLLEGE?

...warning over.

In the vein of Melissa's February 19 posting, I need sex with random people. Please submit your application, along with a blood sample, urine sample, photo of your breasts, and your phone number to author@gmail.com.

But, Matt, how can they send a blood and urine sample via e-mail?

How the hell should I know? I may not be a technophile, but, damn it, I'm horny.

Still Ill as Hell, The Musical

2005-02-25T02:04:00.000-06:00

Comin' home used to feel so good
I'm a stranger now in my neighborhood
I've seen the world at a faster pace
And I'm comin' now from a diff'rent place

Though I may look the same way to you
Underneath there is somebody new

I am not the boy next door
I don't belong like I did before
Nothin' ever seems like it used to be
You can have your dreams, but you can't have me

I can't go back there anymore
'Cause I am not the boy next door

You've been savin' those souvenirs,
Faded photographs from my foolish years
We made plans, but they're wearin' thin
And they won't work out 'cause I don't fit in

And those mem'ries will just weigh me down
'Cause I got no place to keep 'em uptown

I am not the boy next door
I don't belong like I did before
Nothin' ever seems like it used to be
You can have your dreams, but you can't have me

I can't go back there anymore
'Cause I am not the boy next door

And I'm sorry for just bein' me
But if you'd look past the past you could see
That

I am not the boy next door
I don't belong like I did before
Nothin' ever seems like it used to be
You can have your dreams, but you can't have me

I can't go back there anymore
'Cause I am not
I am not
I am not
The boy next door

The Joy of Illness

2005-02-21T21:46:00.000-06:00

Fortunately, I went to the doctor early in my illness before it became strep throat. There was no way I would allow a repeat of late last July to occur.

Incidentally: why is a day considered a federal holiday when schools still hold classes on that day? I thought the intent behind a federal holiday was a day off from work and school?

Quizzicular Cancer

2005-02-17T13:41:00.000-06:00

You Are 27 Years Old

27

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.

30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!

40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Take the quiz: "What Kinda Kiss R U?"

Tender Kiss
The tender kiss is the feeling where you can be anywhere and show your feelings.

Take the quiz: "Which American City Are You?"

New York
You're competative, you like to take it straight to the fight. You gotta have it all or die trying.

Drink and Hump to Your Health

2005-02-17T13:33:00.000-06:00

Did you know that you can tell from the skin whether a person is sexually active or not?

1. Sex is a beauty treatment. Scientific tests find that when women make love they produce amounts of the hormone estrogen, which makes hair shine and skin smooth.

2. Gentle, relaxed lovemaking reduces your chances of suffering dermatitis, skin rashes and blemishes. The sweat produced cleanses the pores and makes your skin glow.

3. Lovemaking can burn up those calories you piled on during that romantic dinner.

4. Sex is one of the safest sports you can take up. It stretches and tones up just about every muscle in the body. It's more enjoyable than swimming 20 laps, and you don't need special sneakers!

5. Sex is an instant cure for mild depression. It releases endorphins into the bloodstream, producing a sense of euphoria and leaving you with a feeling of well-being.

6. The more sex you have, the more you will be offered. The sexually active body gives off greater quantities of chemicals called pheromones. These subtle sex perfumes drive the opposite sex crazy!

7. Sex is the safest tranquilizer in the world. It is ten times more effective than Valium.

8. Kissing each day will keep the dentist away. Kissing encourages saliva to wash food from the teeth and lowers the level of the acid that causes decay, preventing plaque build-up.

9. Sex actually relieves headaches. A lovemaking session can release the tension that restricts blood vessels in the brain.

10. A lot of lovemaking can unblock a stuffy nose. Sex is a natural antihistamine. It can help combat asthma and hay fever.

I should have posted this on February 14, but it's never too late to have just a little more knowledge.

So Much Fun, It Should Be Illegal...Like Copyright Infringement

2005-02-16T22:06:00.000-06:00

Aphrodite596: okay
Aphrodite596: sorry
MJT a u s t i n: sorry for...?
MJT a u s t i n: ;-) just gotta love it when someone apologizes, by default, for anything.
MJT a u s t i n: not pointing you out, but it's just funny how often that happens.
Aphrodite596: no, I apologize for everything
MJT a u s t i n: Melissa, my dear, you make a good Catholic. ;-)
MJT a u s t i n: I gotta put that in my blog...mind if i quote you?
Aphrodite596: haha, never
MJT a u s t i n: probably just those last two lines "no, I apologize..." to "...a good Catholic ;-)"
Aphrodite596: don't worry, have fun
MJT a u s t i n: oh, I am. :-D
MJT a u s t i n: legal, substantiated, documented, properly cited fun
Aphrodite596: haha

8-Bit Lovin'

2005-02-12T01:28:00.000-06:00

WARNING: The link contains borderline NC-17 content. Public-computer-viewer disrection is advised.

In a Perfect World

2005-02-06T14:09:00.000-06:00

We'd have seen Janet Jackson's other breast, too.

New England 44, Philadelphia 10. That's my prediction, and I'm sticking to it.

The Race is On

2005-02-03T21:22:00.000-06:00

I'm normally not this excited about a political race (not even for trying to oust Dubya), but I can't hold this in:

I am volunteering with Kinky Friedman's gubernatorial bid, and I'm going to e-mail him and ask to be considered for Comptroller or Texas Lottery Commissioner.

Kvetching Up to Do

2005-01-26T13:42:00.000-06:00

Simple story short:

I'm now in week #2 at The University of Texas at San Antonio, taking Introduction to Communication Technologies, Foundations of Communication, Public Speaking, and Education in United States Society.

Wound up earning a $5,500 student loan for this semster alone, which doubles the amount I owe in student loans when combined with the UT loans.

Dodge Stratus was smashed in the front passenger door by a hit-and-run driver. It was parked at Mike's store when it occured, and no one was in the vehicle. The front door needs to be replaced, the window was smashed, and the passenger rear-view mirror was gone except for the wiring. $1,000 deductable there (which I called in on-site, which pissed my mom off to no fucking end: "Are you out of your fucking mind?" is what she shouted since I should have "waited for Dad to call it in" instead of calling myself and asking for towing service. Told her, "You're welcome." Mom's pissed, big fucking deal.)

Driving Julie to school this week, since her parents are in a near-divorce fight over her, the car, her mom's tyranny, etc.

So, what's new to you?

And, now, ladies and gentlemen, heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Johnny!

2005-01-23T16:18:00.000-06:00

"If it weren't for Philo T. Farnsworth, inventor of television, we'd still be eating frozen radio dinners."

"I know a man who gave up smoking, drinking, sex, and rich food. He was healthy right up to the day he killed himself."

"If life was fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators would be dead."

"Democracy means that anyone can grow up to be president, and anyone who doesn't grow up can be vice president. "

"Anytime four New Yorkers get into a cab together without arguing, a bank robbery has just taken place."

"We've finally found the light of the economic tunnel. Unfortunately, it's a guy with a flashlight looking for food."

"Mail your packages early so the post office can lose them in time for Christmas."

As Art Fern: "Got no job? We don't care. Got a bad credit rating? We don't care. Got a prison record? We don't care. Don't expect to pay us? THAT'S when we care!"

"Do you ever get the feeling the world's a tuxedo, and you're a pair of brown shoes?"

1925-2005

I'm Back!

2005-01-11T18:42:00.000-06:00

Thursday, my old computer began having nervous breakdowns which would not allow me online, restarting itself, breaking apart on WordPerfect, and having hissy fits during The Sims.

So, Best Buy customer service nightmare not withstanding (I'll get to that later), I am now tricked out in 512 MB, Intel Pentium 4, and 160 GB eMachines land with CD-ROM and DVD+/-RW.

My God, I'm actually masturbating to the thought of this computer. Or maybe it's to the thought that I receive better clarity in seeing Family Guy on this than on my TV & DVD.

I Feel Proud

2005-01-06T03:07:00.000-06:00

From LD Debate, a forum for debate and speech competitors:

[Person's moniker removed]

[Begin quote]

Post Posted: Fri Dec 24, 2004 7:28 pm
Post subject: [Worst Judge Experience EVER]
"Well, I have a very good story to tell. Matt Turner, a individual now struck from ever judging me again, is a Dramatic Interpretation judge. He has never given me a higher ranking than a four in FX. He also cannot judge LD. His paradigm is: "If you speed read, SUDDEN DEATH! Imagine that I am a bus driver, don't use big words or arguments that cannot be understood by me." San Antonio debaters know that I am fast and run relatively complicated positions, so I went as slow as possible yet he still signed a ballot for my opponent in the first thirty seconds of my NC due to his "SUDDEN DEATH!" paradigm -- if you can call it that.

My rant is over.

[End quote]

What I Did as 22

2005-01-05T01:51:00.000-06:00

1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?
A. I had a play produced.
B. I performed with a New York dialect.
C. I was cast in a musical.
D. I went camping along the Texas Gulf Coast.
E. I vocally told a girl that I liked her.
F. I sold Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper cans by the case on eBay.
G. I had more than enough money left over at Christmas, even after purchasing gifts for everyone on my list.
H. According to Melissa, I placed second among seven script contenders for the 2004 Madrigal Dinner Show.
I. I lived in the garage.
J. I displayed the Christmas tree atop a living room coffee table.
K. I took Julie out on a date (the 2003-2004 Speech & Debate banquet, followed by drinks at Heat).

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I made no resolutions last year. But, I resolve to not be afraid, and to be assertive.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My forty-year-old cousin (my mom's late oldest sister's daughter) gave birth to a baby boy. Two weeks later, her eighteen-year-old daughter (my first cousin, once removed if you want to be genealogically technical) gave birth to a baby boy.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
On Saturday October 23 an unknown motorist fatally ran over my little Poopy Doo. Cupcake has been missing since Tuesday December 21, and she is presumed dead.

5. What countries did you visit?
None. I'm scared of our Bush-hating neighbors now.

6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
"I love you, too, Matt," decent grades, a more-than-decent wage, and two playwriting opportunities

7. What date from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
A. Friday January 16: Ingénue premieres
B. Saturday February 7: First true bonding with Jessica 'Giij' Ramirez
C. Friday February 13: Counter Intelligence premieres
D. Wednesday July 21: My final night in my childhood bedroom.
E. Thursday July 22: My first night in my new bedroom.
F. Tuesday October 5: Sarah Finegan and I meet at SAC; she persuades me into calling Julie on her cell phone; I tell Julie, over the phone, about my feelings
G. Saturday October 23: Poopy Doo dies
H. Monday November 8: Seussical premieres

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Ingénue, Seussical, and telling Julie

9. What was your biggest failure?
Twice seeing Julie break up with Brad and not ask her out then and there.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
During the last two weeks of July, I had severe throat problems. Try being ill while packing and moving.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Speech & Drama Banquet tickets for Julie and I; Julie's gifts; Melissa's gifts

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Melissa's successful auditioning for Madrigal (for the second consecutive year)

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
No one got to me this year. Thank God for large favors.

14. Where did most of your money go?
DVDs, CDs, dinners, lunches, $1.90/gallon of gasoline, UT Austin

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Ingénue and Seussical premiering; telling Julie

16. What song will always remind you of 2004?
Outkast's "Hey Ya!"

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? a lot happier
ii. thinner or fatter? thinner (what a difference a children's musical makes on your body)
iii. richer or poorer? poorer, but not by much

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Seizing the Julie moments

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Cry myself to sleep

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I spent it with my family

22. Did you fall in love in 2004?
Have you not been paying attention? I have mentioned some girl's name rather often.

23. How many one-night stands?
None. Thank God, again, for large favors.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
American Idol, Family Guy, Saturday Night Live, Friends (strange, now that the series has ended), South Park (starting to see the older episodes again), The Simpsons (when I can), Malcolm in the Middle (when I can), and Will & Grace (man, I really didn't have time, did I?)

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
No one new this year.

26. What was the best book you read?
David Ives's "Sure Thing"

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
My cousin Christina's CD cache...kept my hard drive well-burnt

28. What did you want and get?
I wanted to be noticed by Julie...and I have been all this time, thankfully

29. What did you want and not get?
Nothing that I regret

30. What were your favorite films of this year?
Bad Santa, Mean Girls, Ocean's Twelve, and Thirteen (two from last year, but so what)

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Julie witnessed the loss of my onion ring's virginity at a Jim's on my twenty-third. Afterward, I gave her my Christmas gifts.

32.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I think we know the answer.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?
Odd: all Big & Tall stores seem to think big, fat guys want to look like Ruben Studdard. Digressing: casual, yet stylish when want to be.

34. What kept you sane?
Melissa Morris, Julie Dunn, Ricky Ansley, writing, masturbation, Vacation Bible School, movies, Poopy Doo

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Keira Knightley and Jennifer Garner. You draw your own conclusions.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Was everyone worried about the Vietnam War in the 2004 Election? My goodest God, if it wasn't Swift Boat turncoats and nail-scratch purple hearts, it was Dan Rather's ass on a Republican's silver platter. Still really bad it was a 51-48-1 decision...but, honestly, things can be much worse (like, we COULD have Hitler in power...although Putin's scarily looking close to it).

37. Who did you miss?
My Austin friends, the City of Austin, and Poopy Doo

38. Who was the best new person you met?
Brad (Julie's boyfriend); Jaime, Eric, and Erica (co-stars from Seussical)

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004.
A. Never be afraid.
B. Write, damn it.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
"Why decry a cloudy sky? An empty purse? A crazy universe? My philosophy is simply , 'Things could be worse.' So be happy you're here. Think of life as a thrill. When worse comes to worse, as we all know that it will: tell yourself how lucky you are."
-Seussical

Everything Came Up Rosy Oranges

2005-01-04T23:43:00.000-06:00

Before I gloat to each and every single OU fan for the 38-37 win over Michigan, allow me to make these public service announcments:

Ashlee Simpson, you are not a singer. You have no talent. You are an older version of Kelly Osborne as far as celebrity and looks are considered. You are simply the leech on the big sister coattails to fame (and it is a shame that MTV is helping the demonic cause, 30 minutes at a time). Singing at the top of your lungs to the point of screeching is not singing; it is painful, and you were rightfully greeted by 90,000+ 'boobirds' in Miami's Pro Player Stadium.

ABC, the Bowl Championship Series is a joke that no one, especially the Associated Press, wants to seriously consider anymore. An organization that undergoes a third change of system in as many years is a system that needs no more association with you for your own good. It is a good thing that, as of 2010, it will be FOX's problem. Until then, you are stuck, but you can still manage heavenly entertainment among a confusing poll system from Hell. Begin with the idea that a Super Bowl-caliber halftime show fits into a college championship game halftime show. The truly revolutionary idea (and if you indeed think it's revolutionary, please feel free to hit yourself on the head with a mallet) would be to allow both schools' bands to perform on live network television, and---for once and for all---forget what you think is the coveted preteen demographic. CBS took the OH-MAH-GAWD ideal to heart, and it unfortunately pumped smack next to Janet Jackson's breasts.

NFL, no one believes you at all for declaring innocence over halftime entertainment and preshow network promotions. Your league lost its virginity as soon as Tex Schramm asked Texas's finest young women to shake their barely-clad bodies in cheerleader uniforms. No wardrobe malfunction nor dropped towel can allow you indeminification. If you want to begin penanace, then I have a Super Bowl halftime suggestion: have two college bands perform the halftime show (one would be the prominant or geographically closest school to the hosting city; the second would be the school whose football team just won the national championship).

NFL, just take one bit of solace: you could have had Janet's brother, Michael, in your halftime show last season (and you can draw your own wardrobe malfunction punchline here).

Finally, to the University of Oklahoma: if you begin allegations of the University of Southern California team running up the score, may I remind you of 63-14 (your winning game on October 7, 2000) and 65-13 (October 11, 2003).

The Eyes of Texas were upon you, OU...and you flinched long enough to be mowed over by USC.

"Gimme Mah Fuckin' Money"

2004-12-31T16:19:00.000-06:00

My Pimped Name is - Vagina Wagon
Get yours at Pimped Media

Blown in the Storm

2004-12-30T03:26:00.000-06:00

I honestly can not watch anymore footage of the eastern tsunami. This strikes too familiar to the 9/11 coverage.

I pray for everyone's lives and souls jarred by the disaster.

Speaking of...am I the only one who feels this way: whenever I watch the season-length DVDs of Friends, I can't stand to look during the cityscape pans when the World Trade Center towers appear because all I can envision is an airplane aimed right at them. I wasn't in New York during the disaster, but the 9/11 images are too burnt into my head for me to ever see archive footage of the Towers in safety.

I really am wondering if anyone feels that way.

Twenty-Three.

2004-12-30T02:49:00.000-06:00

Man, I'm definitely no kid anymore.

After what probably was hours of vaginal gridlock,
Everyone gives you a standing ovation
On that day that's forever your own

On the first-year birthday
The feeling's revisited
Just with more strange adults taking pictures

The second is also spectacular
Surrounded by fellow "terrible twos"
Orchestrating a parental nightmare

"Third time's a charm"?
Maybe in two more years,
You can clearly say that yourself.

By the time you're four years old,
You're already getting a personality, some lip,
"...and many more"

You already know the world around you
Five years is enough to know by now
That everything's "mine!"

One year down of public school by six
The progression of life already in motion
Of finding out just how little you really know

The good thing about public school education:
You no longer measure yourself "seven"
You're "seven and three-quarters" by September

The perfect round number of eight
A good symbol of the roundabout year
When you realize Santa looks a lot like Dad

The impossiblity of being nine:
Being old enough to order from the adult menu
Yet not wanting to let go of the Happy Meal toy

Magically, there's nothing like ten
The honor, prestige, and glory of double-digits
(Which loses it luster in another fifteen)

The sweet and the sour taste of eleven
Sugary childhood pleasures of elementary school
Soured by the first day of middle school quickly

The twelfth day of your twelfth year of life
At the twelfth minute of the twelfth minute
You and friends giggle at just saying "twelfth"

Armpits, sweat glands, pubic hair, menustration
Masturbation, profanity, promiscuity, puberty
Nothing like thirteen to kill innocence

Armpits, sweat glands, pubic hair, menustration
Masturbation, profanity, promiscuity, puberty
Just a repeat, but call it fourteen, instead

Independent nations, by their fifteenth,
Establish themselves as self-fulfilling
Teenagers? Not so different

The speed limit is sixteen around here
Pay caution to the hidden cop behind the billboard
Reality PD will slow you down for your own good

So what exactly is the enticement
That establishes a seventeen threshold for "R"?
Well, bask in the violent, sexy, profane freedom

Establish the status quo (or eliminate it),
Promise it armed service availability,
And win some smokes with the "Eighteen Lotto"

Wonders of nineteen: still technically teen
Adult by definition, and collegiately eligible
The finely gray ground of defined age

Nothing like losing an adolescent label
Earning the right to wear "twenty-something"
And being denied alcoholic rights

Until you finally turn twenty-one
Not that the celebration has to start immediately
But, screw it, you've waited long enough

One year later, the party's still going on
Twenty-two will provide still the right image
Of youthfulness atop responsibility

Until you realize you are no longer a kid
You're old enough to now really be an adult
Twenty-three's no kid...twenty-three's beginning.

copyright 2004 Matt Turner

La Noche Buena

2004-12-25T01:30:00.000-06:00

A young BOY stands alone in the apron wings, alienated from the remainder of the CHILDREN---all of whom laugh and mock HIM. Despondent, HE looks out the audience, seeking someone's---anyone's help in HIS time of faith crisis. HE is CHARLIE BROWN.

CHARLIE BROWN
Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?

A FRIEND stands nearby, witnessing the despondency before his thumb-sucking and blanket-carrying eyes. As the voice of reason and hope, HE is LINUS VAN PELT.

LINUS
Sure, Charlie Brown, I know what Christmas is all about.
(HE crosses the stage.)
Lights, please?
(Lights dim, save a lone spotlight on LINUS.)
And there were shepereds,
Keeping herd of their flock by night
And lo, the angel of the Lord called upon them.
And they were so afraid
But the angel said unto them "Fear not!
I bring you good news of great joy
That will be for all the people.
For unto has been born in the city of David
A savior...Jesus Christ, the Lord
And this will be a sign unto you:
You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes
And lying in a manger."
And suddenly there appeared with the angel
A multitude of angels praising God
And saying "Glory to God in the highest
And on Earth peace...
...good will toward men."
(Leaving those on-stage silent, LINUS crosses back to CHARLIE BROWN, who is rebathed in a spot-light.)
That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

I can't ever type this or watch that Christmas special without crying during Linus's monologue...maybe that's why I love Christmas: I'm still touched by what I found joyous as a kid. One of these days, I pray that I'll share that little kid feeling with the girl-of-my-life snuggled next to me as we watch this...so she can hold me when I cry during this scene.

Here's hoping everyone's still a little kid in heart this Christmas.

Dinner (or Just a Movie) with Friends

2004-12-23T19:48:00.000-06:00

Tuesday night, Druck and Melissa met Julie. *smiling*

You know that very uneasy feeling when one realm of friends clashes with another realm of your friends? None of that existed when we all met up to see Ocean's Twelve at the Regal Alamo Quarry. Within thirty seconds, Melissa and Julie already were like oldest of friends. And Druck being his usual personable self...I couldn't be much happier. I really wanted my friends to meet Julie, and I'm happy that it's so smooth.

Of course, Julie had to lean over to me during the film and ask if Druck was gay. "No, he's just a professional actor and a guy I've known since high school, so trust me, he's not gay...just an actor."

To which Julie replied, "Oh, no, Matt, trust me...Julie knows 'gay.'"

And, yeah, considering we hang out at Heat and that her boyfriend had thought that I was gay, she DOES know 'gay.' But I still say "just an actor."

Anyway, the night was great (even if I did get so snuggly close to Julie that it made her claustrophobic...and even though the film's last thirty minutes DID lose me). Melissa got her tamales, Druck got Julie's # (to hang out, mind you...if it were to hook up with her, I'd be cool...cool after you pry his severed head FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS!), and I...well...got to blush over Julie all night.

By the way, if I seem a little off-the-handle on a few sentences here, forgive me...it's less than 36 hours until Christmas, and I have no clue where one of my cats is.

Ups and Downs

2004-12-23T19:41:00.000-06:00

Well, my one down: my middle child kitty, Cupcake, is currently AWOL. She has not been home since Tuesday, and we are about to have our second consecutive subfreezing night. I am praying that some family took her in and is keeping her warm and fed...

...but I remembered that Poopy Doo died two months ago today, and I began stuttering (when I am really beaten with sorrow and grief, I begin stuttering badly). The thought "I've lost Cupcake" struck me to the ground, and I became bitterly angry. I vowed that if, indeed, Cupcake was the second victim in our family of death-by-auto that I would angrily, without remorse, kill any motorist who went even one mile above our street's speed limit. I vowed to hurl rocks, cinder blocks, hammers, bricks, anything to smash into the windshield of the motherfucker speeding past my house. And I hope that if I smash their car, whatever I threw would cause a fatal blow to the head, so that they would meet the same fate as my beloved.

I am shaking a lot from this, and it's all the same from 10/22 (the night I lost Poopy Doo). So, I need to change the subject...

Heart of Pain

2004-12-15T03:56:00.000-06:00

"What, he's still going on about Julie? My God, Matt, give it a fucking rest!"

Yeah, well, I can't. Friday, she and I met up at North Star...she was at Glamour Shots for a Christmas photo shoot for Brad. One shoot required only a sheet for costuming.

I'm in Friendship Purgatory. Only reason it's not Hell? I want to be friends with Julie. But the knife in my heart (that is their relationship...AGAIN...for the third time) keeps twisting, pumping more of my blood out, and for some damn reason I'm not dying! I'm feeling the continual wounds of the fucking blade, and it just won't finish me off already.

While she had her private shoot, she asked me to take a gift from Brad to be cleaned. The gift: a .25 ct diamond cross.

So much for the gift ideas I had for her. I guess there's always Plan B.

She still thinks of me as a friend, though...and that does console me. And she's told me that I will find someone, someday.

I may ask her to set me up on a double-date for my birthday...anything to get me out of the house for once on that day. If not...any ideas?

Kudos

2004-12-10T04:08:00.000-06:00

William Richard Ansley
Bachelor of Science in Biology: Ecology, Evolution, and Behavior

Here's to strawberries, fruit loops, baked potatoes, and pizza, Ricky. Jester forever. Jester forever.

Well, Rose Tint My World!

2004-12-09T01:23:00.000-06:00

It worked. Mack Brown's lobbying actually worked.

Happy I am for the Burnt Orange to take a good wiff of the Roses on a Pasadena New Year's afternoon, I'm on the "playoff" bandwagon as well, yeah. As someone from the Express-News sports department put it best: what if the President of the United States was decided in a vote of the Press Corps? How about if NFL Commish Paul Tagliabue decided to abandon the playoffs and let two polls decide who plays in the Super Bowl?

If you want to argue 'student-athletes,' bullshit me no more, please. NCAA Divison III schools use a playoff format, so it can be feasily done in Division I (besides, we ALL know just how studious 'student'-athletes are when final exams roll around).

I say we begin the playoffs just after Christmas and let the championship game be played on Martin Luther King Day.

"But, Matt, that would conflict with the NFL playoffs."

Big deal. Move the pros' tournament to a late-January start, making the Conference championship games the first weekend of February, and practically guaranteeing a Valentine's Day Super Bowl. The networks and the league are considering this move, anyhow, since the Conference (NFC and AFC, in case I ain't clear) championships are heavily viewed. The move to February pushes the games into the winter ratings books. Advertising rates are determined on 'sweeps' rating books. Whomever's airing the games gets more money. Everyone wins. That was ABC's move when they bumped the Academy Awards from March up to February, so I say let Cupid, some dead Presidents, the Music Homecoming Dance (the Grammys), and Black History share the 28 days (or 29 for every year that we gotta elect some dimbulb into the White House) with the Big Dance and the Hollywood Prom.

Until then...roses are red, California's blue.

Gracias a Dios por...

2004-12-03T11:45:00.000-06:00

I am over a week late in making a Thanksgiving post, but this is still timely. Yesterday was my final (regular class) day at San Antonio College. Most people would think nothing of leaving a community college, but SAC is where I have rejuvenated my career in spirit and action.

I left the University of Texas on a very sour, down note: financial aid did not cover my second semester. Therefore, with a $600+ debt to housing/dining, UT froze my meal plan. I had just gotten my job with the Texas Union, but instead of working for spending money, I was then working to live (thankfully, I was not kicked out of housing, so thank God for SOME small favors...). To supplement, I maxed out a second credit card (with a $800 limit), so creditors called me endlessly for their pay. It should not have effect me that much at all, but I let the finances stress me out to the point of a 0.0 GPA that spring semester. With the 0.0, financial aid was suspended until my career GPA resurfaced over 2.0 (my then-2.5ish took a hit with the 0.0, hovering around 1.93).

With no financial aid and a lousy semester, I had no academic choice but to enroll at SAC. I figured I would do one semester here, and then return to UT. Instead, I joined an inviting circle of actors putting on a children's production...I finally felt at home being in a production after a 29-month absence from the stage. It was in this production that I regained confidence as an actor, found my truer calling as a speech and theatre major (rather than focusing on RTF), and...most importantly...it was here that I met Julie Dunn, a fellow actress in the leading role. If I had stayed at UT, I would never have met the Happy Eeyore of Seattle...she, alone, made the UT-SAC transition worth it all.

In my time at SAC, I have regained so much confidence as an actor that I decided to further branch out the playwriting wings that I was just developing at UT. My first submission, for the 2003 UT Madrigal Dinner Show, came out as a denied flop (it was a flop, since I rushed that script within a week). On my second try, success: Steven Stoli produced Ingénue, making me a produced playwright by just age 22.

It was also at SAC that I've had experience as a box office and public relations manager/intern, and as a prop master/backstage crewmember for Dinner with Friends.

Although I couldn't conceive the thought of myself in a musical, everyone in the department has heralded my turn as the Mayor of Whoville in the recent Seussical outing as my best performance ever. I will agree...I never thought myself as ever being in a musical...and now, I have. And people actually liked my performance.

Top of all that, Melissa told me that the Madrigal producers "second-placed" my script idea for this year's show.

Most importantly, top all of that: I have made so many friends at SAC (Rebecca Bernstein, my favorite married, Jewish actress who comforts me with hugs; Jessica 'Giij' Ramirez, my favorite beauty-pageant contestant/actress who comforts me with hugs, blinding-bright smiles, kisses on her cheek, and just being her extremely sexy self; Robert Bridget, my favorite co-star from high school turned close confidant on the college stage; Julie Dunn, my favorite actress best friend).

I almost want to stay at SAC, but since it's unlikely SAC will be offering af Bachelor program in Speech or Theatre anytime soon, it is time for me to say "Hello, UTSA." (UTSA just because their Speech program requires only two semesters of a foreign language, and I have NEVER been able to pass Spanish IV).

And I'm thankful for people I've known pre-SAC who stuck around to hear me smile and/or bitch about the time here...for all the Melissa Morrises, Ricky Ansleys, Sarah Fingeans, Jennifer Elliotts, Kelsie Prewitts, Samantha Carlsons, Julius Wolfs (Wolves?), and Michael Drucks in the world...

...thank you all. And I'm scared about what's next...would you hold my hand as I cross the street, please?

And Because I Miss the Place So Much...

2004-11-30T01:19:00.000-06:00

You Know You're From Austin When...

You never bother looking at the Capital Metro schedule because you know the drivers have never seen it.

You've been to more than one baby shower that has two mothers and a sperm donor.

You have a very strong opinion where your coffee beans are grown and can taste the difference between Sumatran and Ethiopian.

You know that anyone wearing pants in November is just visiting from Ohio.

You are thinking of taking an adult class but you can't decide between yoga, aromatherapy, conversational Mandarin or one on building your own web site.

You haven't been to Hippie Hollow since the first month you moved to Austin.

A man walks on The Drag in full leather regalia and crotchless chaps ...You don't notice.

A woman walks on The Drag with live poultry ...You don't notice.

You think any guy with a George Clooney haircut must be visiting from the midwest.

You know that any woman with a George Clooney haircut is not a tourist.

You keep a list of companies to boycott.

Your hairdresser is straight, your plumber is gay, the woman who delivers your mail is straight and your Mary Kay Lady is a guy in drag.

You occasionally see a guy on a unicycle whiz by you in your car and you say to yourself, "Oh yeah, it's that guy again..."

You start to worry when you don't see the cross-dressing, bearded guy in-a-tutu-and- bikini-top-who-has-made-a-statement-with-his-grocery-cart-and-cardboard-box-art/shelter on your way to work in the morning. Scarier yet, you know his name is name is actually Leslie.

You'll make dinner or bar plans around who's got the best margaritas.

You have a tough time deciding on one of Austin's eight 24-hour resaraunts (Katz', Kerbey Lane, Star Seeds, Magnolia Cafe, IHOP, Denny's, the Kettle, or Jim's).

You complain about their prices but still shop at Central Market for the scene.

You don't even think about getting good seats to the Longhorns football games.

You know the exact locations of three towing yards.

Your summer shoes are your Birks and your winter shoes are your Birks w/ socks.

Your entire wardrobe consists of: a black tank top, a GAP white T-shirt, second-hand Levi's, second-hand cut-off Levi's, overalls, Longhorns sweats, anything polyester from the 70's, a bikini, Tevas, Birkenstocks, and running shoes.

You often find yourself wondering why magazine editors insist that swimsuit season starts on Memorial Day when it's really the end of February or at the latest, the beginning of March.

You consider chips, salsa, Kerby Queso, and Shiner Bock beer a well balanced meal.

You find yourself making beaded necklaces to give away as Christmas gifts.

100 degrees for three straight months isn't unreasonable, 110 degrees is. And 90 degrees anywhere
between May and September seems a little chilly.

ou figure skin cancer is inevitable b/c it's so DAMN HOT even your sunscreen won't stay on.

When you go out, you make sure you've grabbed your water bottle before checking to see if you've got your wallet and keys.

You don't mind parking a mile away as long as it's in the shade.

Nobody's aware that Southwestern went out of style.

You ask yourself constantly if that's a cute guy or a butch girl. And you really don't care either way cuz it's fun to wonder.

You'd rather ride your bike than get in a car without air conditioning. At least on your bike, you're guaranteed a breeze regardless of traffic.

You see more Texas flags flying than American flags.

You spend so much time at MoJo's Coffee House, you finally start bringing in your own CD's for the staff to play.

Your professor decides in the middle of the Government lecture that now's as good of a time as ever to tell his class of 500 he's gay. Like you didn't know. Like you even care.

Cubicles are no longer referred to as "work spaces" but "way out funky left brain meditation depositories."

The food at the company holiday party is all vegan, organic, soy free, wheat free, dairy free...

That noontime odor in the breakroom reminds you of your trip to Caracas, but its only somebody's lunch.

You're in a band - several of them, in fact

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Austin.

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Viva la Raza?

2004-11-30T01:14:00.000-06:00

You Know You're From San Antonio When...

You lost your virginity at mission drive-in

You know exactly how to get to the "Ghost Tracks" from anywhere in town.

You think "pro-choice" means flour or corn tortillas.

You've never been to the Alamo.

You think a health drink is a Margarita without salt.

You think being able to read the Taco Cabana menu makes you bilingual.

You used to live in a neighborhood you wouldn't even drive through now.

There has been a road crew on your street since before the Alamodome was built.

You remember when Crossroads Mall used to be called Wonderland.

You've been to Midget Mansion.

You know all about the "Dancing Diablo" and the "Donkey Lady" bridge.

You know that Wheatley and Brackenridge is the same school.

You remember the Captain Gus show.

Your subwoofer has twice the value of your car.

You have three rodeo outfits but never have been on a horse

You're an expert with the brake pedal, but you have no idea what a blinker is.

Your idea of culture is wearing a Hard Rock T-shirt.

You think the last supper was at Mi Tierra restaurant.

You do your grocery shopping at a flea market.

You think local politicians are crooks, but you still do not vote.

You have a "Selena Lives" bumper sticker on your car.

You care if San Antonio is in the "national spotlight".

A formal occasion is getting a glass with your longneck.

You believe Tacos, barbecue, tequilla, and beer are the four basic food groups.

You rented Pulp Fiction to escape the everyday violence of the city.

You think wearing bows in your hair will get you a husband.

Your White mother learned how to make Tamales & Menudo from your neighbors.

You know the "real" definition of FIESTA is "stay home if at all possible".

You have ordered Mexican food at a Chinese restaurant.

You had breakfast tacos at Taco Cabana on Christmas morning.

You remember the Joske's Christmas display.

You remember when JC Penney's had a restaurant.

You remember hamburgers from Whopper Burger.

You're elementary field trip was to the Butter Crust Bakery.

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from San Antonio.

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Quizzicular Cancer

2004-11-30T01:05:00.000-06:00

You Are the Helper

2

You always put on a happy face and try to help those around you.

You're incredibly empathetic and care about everyone you know.

Able to see the good in others, you're thoughtful, warm, and sincere.

You connect with people who are charming and charismatic.

What number are you?

The Brain Lapse

2004-11-12T14:32:00.000-06:00

It's time to update. Too much has gone by, like The Curse of the Bambino finally being put to rest, Tricks-or-Treats night going by, and "W" being given a 51-48-1 approval for four more years to fuck it all up.

Seussical opened Monday, and it has been a nonstop roller-coaster of energy from these kids. Melissa enjoyed the opening performance, and each one has since been great (even though I made the mistake after Monday's first show of eating a slice of pizza. I did not know that grease and dairy will coat a throat and make singing hard...I felt like I had a chainsaw in my throat for the second show).

Life with Julie is still friendship; she moved out of her parents' house and in with a friend near Comal County.

I'm exhausted, and still have two more shows to go. After Saturday, I earn $30 or $40 worth at Mac's tournament...then, Saturday night, do I party?

Probably not, I'll be too busy collapsing from the week.

2004-10-26T21:58:00.000-05:00

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Forever, My Kitty

2004-10-24T02:56:00.000-05:00

Tonight my youngest kitty cat, Poopy Doo (a.k.a. "Tigger" and "Duchess") was run-over by a car.

My catercorner teenage neighbor rang our doorbell and asked if our cat was out in the street. It was Tigger, motionless in the middle of the street. I petted her, thinking the mere touch of my hand would suddenly have her look up and stretch her head out for a little scritch-scritch.

She didn't move. She was gone.

I hyperventilated as I ran to Mom's bedroom to wake up Mom with the news. I ran back outside, but stopped and became overwhelmed when I was halfway to the driveway. I went back in, cried on Mom's shoulder as she went outside, and cried and yelled at the kitchen sink.

Mom cradled her back inside in a piece of cloth. Angrily, I wanted to know if the pizza deliverer had done this. I immediately ruled it out, since my neighbor said Tigger had been there for a little while (Dad let Tigger out at 9pm, three hours prior), and the pizza deliverer would've said something.

(As I'm typing this, I am pleading with God to keep me from being angrily bitter.)

Tigger's skull had been crushed, and blood was pooling around her right ear. I begged Mom to let me hold her one last time...as I held her, Mike and Dad cleaned out a box...not any box, but it was the very first box she had been housed in when she was a mere week-old tyke. Mom added in a small red teddy bear that Tigger enjoyed chasing around...and I added in a variety of hard candies, since Tigger loved taking the candies off of the table, dropping them to the floor, and chasing them around the house.

Since the box is too large to bury her in, we decided this: tomorrow morning, we're burying Tigger near a tree that she frequently climbed. We'll then place her first home, the cardboard box, on top of her grave (with a brick inside as a tombstone) and let the weather deteriorate the box away.

At first, I did not want to go back outside to the front yard, because I could not handle seeing 'ground zero'---her site of death. I finally brought myself to it, if only so I could pour Holy Water on that site for my peace of mind. Mike and I were wondering who might've done it...and looked to see if there were any tire marks. We couldn't find any...as we speculated everything, a sports car came down from the road at 50 MPH. I immediately got pissed, saying "And, yeah, it doesn't fucking help when people do this!" As it sped by our house, I yelled with furious rage, "SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!"

It woke up a few neighbors, and I was shaken. "I don't want to be bitter," I cried to Mom and Mike. I actually felt myself stutter from the shock.

And I don't want to be. I want to be happy that we provided Tigger with such a warm, loving home. She would have died at age 5 days if she stayed at her ramshackle birthplace. At least we gave her five months of a loving life. I pray that God will grant me that anytime over disturbing the peace at 2am with "Slow the fuck down" or having maliciously harmful thoughts for whomever might've been responsible.

I pray so.

Tigger/Poopy Doo/Duchess
May 10, 2004 - October 23, 2004

What's Wrong With Me?

2004-10-21T09:28:00.000-05:00

Went barhopping again with Julie and her friends. Two different bars, countless guys hitting on Julie...she's confiding in me the entire time about how she thinks they're cute, but lacking in personality or charisma.

Me, in the car on the way home with her: after asking what gave me away as a sign that I liked her...she called it women's intuition. And for all the guys she sees now (and even admits that she falls for the 'cuter guys' (***Dagger in my Heart, Volume One***)), she still doesn't want to have a boyfriend here for just a few months and then take off for Seattle.

I finally tell her that I'm going to miss her so much when she leaves that I'd want her to stay, but Seattle's best for her.

And in the very end of the car ride home...I try to blushingly bring up my belly button fetish that Sarah outted of me that night.

Julie had no clue what I was talking about...

...I cried and felt so stupid for being so fucking awkward after dropping her off.

I'm now accepting that Julie and I will never be. :-(

Cheap Plug

2004-10-18T19:12:00.000-05:00

SEUSSICAL

November 8-13, 2004

Monday-Wednesday
9:30 A.M. & 12 Noon

Thursday & Friday
9:30 A.M., 12 Noon, & 7 P.M.

Saturday
12 Noon

$5 General Admission
$3 for Children Under 13
[if you get ahold of me soon enough, I'll get you comps...]

Life in a List (Stolen from Kelsie Prewitt)

2004-10-18T18:53:00.000-05:00

The Firsts
First job: all-around employee for Rent-N-Go Video, my family's business (1989-1999)
First screen name: MJT19812000
First funeral: Aunt Jane (Juanita Siller Newsom Newgarden) on June 1, 1991
First pet: that I remember is Susie, Mike's pug that lived to be 23 in 1992. My own would be a little bunny rabbit that ran away after 10 days in third grade.
First piercing: Bellybutton
First tattoo: Not inked
First credit card: Associates Visa
First kiss: I considerate it illegitmate, since it was a one-night-stand, but at age 21 on April 15, 2003 with CJ...what I'd give for Julie to be my first legitimate kiss
First enemy: Shannon Weems, sixth and seventh grade at Krueger, hated me and I really do not know why.

The Lasts
Last car ride: 90 minutes ago coming from school/rehearsal
Last kiss: with CJ. Again, God, anytime you're ready with Julie, okay?
Last movie watched: at home would be Mean Girls, as I got ready for school earlier today; theatrically Ladder 49...a rather well-written action movie
Last beverage drank: Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper (LOVE LOVE LOVE!)
Last food consumed: pork chops in cream of mushroom gravy over white rice
Last phone call: with Julie Friday night about going barhopping
Last time showered: just before Noon today for class
Last CD played: soundtrack for Avenue Q
Last website visited: Kelsie's

The Now
Single or taken: single by definition, taken by heart
Gender: Male
Birthday: Wednesday, December 30, 1981
Sign: Capricornio
Siblings: Mike, 36
Hair color: Black
Eye color: Brown
Shoe size: 13-wide
Height: 5'11.5"
Wearing: Black t-shirt with black shorts...gothic, no?
Drinking: Caffeine-Free Dr. Pepper (I'm switching to Caff-Free, except for the Cherry Vanilla variety, so I no longer feel so jittery)
Thinking about: Julie, Seussical, getting seconds on dinner, updating my Blog
Listening to: Kylie Minogue - Love at First Sight

Kill Thrill, Vol. Three

2004-10-15T02:20:00.000-05:00

Have you ever wanted to kill your stage managers and one of your choreographers?

Without going into much detail...I KNOW THAT I WANT TO.

You Are Fucking Kidding Me!

2004-10-14T19:51:00.000-05:00

I'm shocked, and very much can't wait to see this happen:

"Good [CENSORSHIP #1]in' evening, you mutha[#2]in' rich, white, Heb bastards, and welcome to the Seventh-Seventh Annual White-Boys-R-Us-in-da-Academy Awards. I'm your host, the third black guy to be seen at this [#3]in' shindig since my man Denzel showed you crackas what's what with a little Sidney-to-Denzel Oscar salute!"

ABC, get ready for high Nielsens and a ten-minute FCC cushion.

Dear God: Please? Amen.

2004-10-13T11:21:00.000-05:00

On Monday night, after a holiday rehearsal, while with a group of fellow actors and singers at Fast Eddie's (281 & Bitters), on the phone with Julie as she laments not being able to come out because of her passive-aggressive mother's meddling into her late night life (and as I console her by saying that even though I love having her so near, Seattle's the Heaven she deserves):

"I love you, Julie."

Oy-yoy-oy!

2004-10-10T20:29:00.000-05:00

12-0? Blech.

6-5? Ugh.

26-10? God...

Not a day to be a Texas sports fan...yeah, yeah, unless you root for the Aggies or Texans (well, barely there).

"My uncle's dying wish: he wanted me on his lap. He was in the electric chair.": 1921-2004

2004-10-07T10:08:00.000-05:00

I Came Out, So Y'All Better Get This Party Started!

2004-10-05T21:06:00.000-05:00

Well, thank you, thank you, thank you, Sarah 'Mercedes' Finegan for making me, the 'weenie' (which Julie DID laugh at), finally do something I had long tortured myself about:

I told Julie that I liked her.

After rehearsal (which is going FABULOUSLY since Thursday when I stopped worrying and just sang the right notes...the music director even hugged me when I was miraculously doing everything right, she even had the whole cast applaud me today for the one-week turnaround of improvement), I ran into Mercedes. She promptly asked if I told Julie. I had not, and I kept going on and on with my neurotic nervousness.

After an hour (and almost a half) of prodding me along, I caved in and gave Mercedes Julie's number. She called, got her on the line, and had me take over...much to my heart-attack scaredy-cat-ness.

Julie figured me out since two years ago when we were in Ming Tree together. She was extremely flattered, saying that it gave her a boost of confidence (even though, IMHO, she has nothing to reduce her confidence).

She cleared up her and Brad: they're like brother and sister in friendship. It made me feel better, and it did help to hear that.

Understandably, she told Mercedes that she broke up with Brad because she didn't want to have to break-up for reason of moving away to Seattle. Hopefully, though, she will go to Seattle knowing that if she ever wants, I'd still be here if she'd have me. :-)

And, YES, Mercedes HAD to mention my fascination with bellybuttons, to which Julie laughingly agreed. I FROZE, wondering if it was good or bad that Julie realized this. Mercedes consoled me, saying that if she realized it and didn't like it, then she wouldn't frequently show me her pierced belly, nor have let me kiss it in the first place, nor would have let me go on about how cute it is, with or without the piercing---------goodest God, I am not only a dork, but a perverted one at that.

All I can say is: thank God for Mercedes (not mentioning my one flaw of SERIOUSLY considering a mix tape idea to tell Julie my feeling).

Sarah, if I forgot anything, ADD IT, PLEASE!

And, that, folks, is how---by the grace of God, I hope---I begin a love life.

American Idol I Ain't

2004-09-29T18:25:00.000-05:00

To end the cliffhanger, my dad is perfectly okay. His malady was a bad reaction to a spider bite.

In the news of my life, I am currently cast as the Mayor of Whoville in Seussical! And I am very much over my head.

Half of the cast are singers, half are like me: theatre majors who have never had the need to have to carry a fucking tune, letting alone an entire musical's worth of fucking tunes.

For the past three days, my baritone voice has not come up to the standards of a musical, and although the director (Paula Rodriguez) and musical director (Anatasia Lerma) are urging me to continue, I really feel out of my league here, and I just want to quit.

I really shouldn't, but I'm completely overwhelmed.

Emergency

2004-09-12T05:08:00.000-05:00

Right as Thursday Night Football got under way, and as I sat down to enjoy my pork chops and rotini, Mom interrupted the game.

Perfect timing, she always has.

"Dad is feeling numb on half of his body."

Oh, shit, it's May 1999 all over again. I'm suddenly having the anxious adrenaline of that morning-after-the-theatre-banquet when Dad woke up with a sore jaw and chest pains, both a precursor of what was his second heart attack in nine years.

Thankfully, Dad was very much alert and his normal self on Thursday. We still sent him to Northeast Baptist's ER with Mom and Mike in tow. I relieved them both at midnight, only to get myself something to eat first (when I arrived, he was in the middle of a CATscan, which takes some time, and I had not really eaten yet at that point, anyway).

Finally, at 1:30, I got to see Dad. He was told that he had stroke symptoms, but the tests run on him were negative.

He was kept overnight, and was given a hosptial room rather quickly (by 3:00, he was in, and I had gotten him a Healthy Choice TV dinner from the staff's fridge).

SIDE NOTE: The staff talked to me in a tone like I was 14ish, and I think it was I did INDEED look 14 that night: I recently shaved and was in shorts, a loose t-shirt, my Converse All-Stars with ankle socks, and had my walkman for any long waiting period.

Next afternoon, he had more batteries of tests, including cardial enzyme and neck vein checks. Everything was negative, so they released him by 7:00 Friday night. He is back home, and doing just fine. He still feels slight numbness around his left side of the body, but noted that it disappeared from his foot.

Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics

2004-09-12T05:06:00.000-05:00

My life is rated R.
What is your life rated?

Almost Losing Love . . . Ultimately

2004-09-09T02:33:00.000-05:00

I know, I'm flip-flopping more often than John Kerry detractors (and thank you, Mercedes, for talking me back into this), but I really needed to post about what I found out tonight.

Julie and I had our usual Jim's late night. I toyed with the idea of finally confessing my feelings for her . . . before I could, she showed me her new car. New in the sense of ownership; it's her dad's 1998 Toyota Celica, which he gave her after getting a new car . . . out of necessity:

Last Thursday, Julie drove two-lane Loop 1604 southbound approaching Babcock Road. There were construction barriers to her right, traffic boxing her in from the left, and a foreign object, with wires sticking out of it, dead-center in her lane. She had no choice but to run over it. It stuck underneath her car and created sparks.

As soon as she passed the Babcock bridge, she pulled over in time for flames to ignite from the sparks-meeting-oil-and-fluid. Three seconds after leaving the car, her car was engulfed in flames.

My Julie was three seconds from being cooked.

No, No, No.

2004-09-07T15:02:00.000-05:00

One comment since July 22, with at least seven posts in that time?

I hate doing this Blog now. No one reads it, and I have bitched about its burden on me for too long now.

Good night.

Rudest of Awakenings: The Alarm Clock Doubling as a Time Bomb

2004-08-30T03:47:00.000-05:00

Anyone who has been in contact with me in the last seventy-two hours: well, you know the story and could very well go on to the next Blog on your checklist.

That, and I apologize for being so self-pitiful and miserable that it made me forget about Mr. Sinus tonight.

I am not in the cast of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. As I figured, the disastrous audition faux pas fumbled any chance I had for being in the production.

Of the seven male roles, six went to freshmen talent, which means six freshmen trounced me, a fifth-year student who---never mind, the more I rattle off "$35,000," the more depressed I become, so I'm stopping here.

Maybe I'll return one day...but, for now, I have retired from acting.

Caprihorny

2004-08-26T18:47:00.000-05:00

I am a DECEMBER baby, so I (am) :
Loyal and generous. Sexy. Patriotic [not fanatic...there IS a difference]. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations [to a point]. Fun to be with. Loves to socialize. Loves praises. Loves attention. Loves to be loved. Honest and trustworthy. Not pretending [WRONG]. Short tempered. Changing personality. Not egoistic [WRONG]. Take high pride in oneself. Hates restrictions. Loves to joke. Good sense of humor. Logical [somewhat].

Pain, Pain, Go Away...Fuck Off, Exist No Other Day!

2004-08-26T18:34:00.000-05:00

No one in the Drama department expected me to be returning to SAC (neither was I, but that is another story itself). So, as soon as my presence was known and as soon as I made it known that I would audition, I was suddenly the odds-on favorite to be cast as Big Daddy in the upcoming October production of Tennessee Williams's Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

At Tuesday's monologue auditions, Charles (yep, "David's Mother" Charles) asked me to skip the next days' cold readings and come directly to the callbacks.

Odds-on favorite.

Until today.

I was asked to read four times. Each time, I had a decent southern dialect. During my last reading (in which Big Daddy is introduced and he eschews his birthday celebration in favor of confronting son-in-law Brick about his continual alcoholism), my southern dialect instantaneously changed into a New Yorker accent. I paused and blushed as Charles had a good laugh at it. I regained my composure...started again...and came out with the fucking New Yoahkah again. Flustered (inside, not out), I asked if I could deliver in normal tone until I regained the dialect. He allowed me...but I know Charles: I issued my own death sentence with him by committing two mistakes within five seconds.

Robert and Rebecca commisserated with me afterwards at Main Street Pizza, although their misery looked light compared to my outright sullen depression. Robert was the inside leg for Big Daddy before I came along, and Rebecca held hope out for being Maggie (Brick's wife) until she saw that Holly (as in Julie's "Golden Bells" rival Holly) was back at SAC and had auditioned for the role.

We did agree: if we three did not get a part, then onward to Oral Interpretation!

The idea does excite me, since I have no competed in over four years. Speaking of: a student whom I judged on quite often last year is now at SAC and auditioned for Brick. Personally, I give him a slight second place edge for being Brick.

By this time tomorrow, I could either be cast as Big Daddy, as Rev. Tooker, as Dr. Baugh, or not cast at all. I shall find out...with highest hopes and prayers cast to the skies...

...damn it to hell, why couldn't I have had it done to me? Was it because just fiteen minutes before callbacks, a stranded motorist asked me to give him a jump, and after five failed jumps, I apologized and explained that I had to leave?

Fine.

Love Actually Sucks.

2004-08-20T17:57:00.000-05:00

There's a scene from Love Actually, that I absolutely adore---well, I love the entire movie, from Alan Rickman infidelity discomfort to Bill Nighy disenfranchisement. A boy alludes Heathrow Airport security in order to tell a fellow classmate his affections before she boards a plane departing from his life.

Why would fiction become reality? I had that film's vision playing in my head as Julie told me that she and her boyfriend ended their relationship yesterday, and she plans to move back to Seattle after Christmas.

I am cool with her moving back home. She has made it no secret that she longed to be back home, and I know she will be happiest back in Washington.

The news still saddened me, although I didn't let her see me be sad about it---I really don't want to give her any dissuasion from moving, because this is indeed what she deserves: to be back with her friends and to be away from her abusively nagging mother.

. . . I still feel romance for her, though. I can't stop those feelings, and now I am really torn apart as to whether I should ever tell her---while I still have the opportunity of her being in San Antonio---how I really have felt about her. What is stopping me is that she is falling in love with a best friend back in Seattle . . . as she puts it, "I somehow always fall for blonde [Strike One Against Matt], blue eyes [Two], and somewhat muscular [Damn it to Hell...]."

She had to go to work, so I had my lunch ordered to go. I couldn't eat, so I left it in the living room while I cried in my bedroom. When I resurfaced, I heard my mother on the phone with an aunt CONTINUALLY bitching about how I have "screwed up" my college career (YES, I am going on my fifth year of college with 87 hours earned only . . . I HARDLY call that screwing up, though!).

Dad saw how despondent I was, and asked about it. Mom, being such the abraisively outspoken woman she is, said "I know what's wrong with him. He heard me saying how much he HAS screwed up in college!"

I asked her to please back off and explained what had happened that day about Julie. She immediately screamed back, "What about me!? You have the nerve---" . . . at this point, I walked off.

Fuck this whole life.

Let the Games of Democracy Begin

2004-08-17T02:53:00.000-05:00

Writer's note: this will now become (or I will try my damned best to do so) a minimum twice-weekly Blog, as newspaper columns are often published.

Don't hold it against me if I fail that, too. I'm trying. You must give me that. That, and an ice cold wine cooler.

***

I'm breaking rhetoric for a moment. Yes, I do subscribe to anti-war sentiments and believe that President George W. Bush had no reason to oust Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein---that, in fact, if anyone should have ousted the brutal ruler, it should have been President George H. Bush ("41") during the Gulf War when "41" had the opportunity.

But, I am casting that feeling aside for a second, and only in celebration for a country that, free from fear and retribution, celebrated their nation's soccer upset victory over Portugal. There is no possible analogy between the people of Houston and Iraq in terms of living conditions, I realize that . . . however, the last time I saw a stadium of fans go absolutely beserk was at the expense of my (yes, "my." I am Jerry Jones, after all . . . aren't we all?) Dallas Cowboys losing a 19-10 decision to the Houston Texans in the Texans' inaugural game in 2002.

The great equalizer in the life . . . the one unifying understanding between nations and even people of a nation . . . is not just the arts. It is also athletics. Ask any Iraqi athlete as he or she walked amongst the world's athletes during Athens's Olympic Opening Ceremonies on Friday.

If only all things in life and athletics, like the phrase "Olympic Gold Medalist Tim Duncan," were guaranteed . . .

2004-08-11T22:19:00.000-05:00

FUCK

All it Takes is One Miss

2004-07-22T08:27:00.000-05:00

Don't attempt to read the link while listening to Will Smith's soundtrack-title "Men in Black." It gives a chilling option that something beyond our intelligence might have plotted 9/11.

Fine, I'm talking crazy talk.

USA Today does not specifically state if the 9/11 Commission explicitly blames the FBI and CIA (at least from what I read), but why wouldn't the Commission blame both organizations? Simply put, if they were honestly doing their jobs, there wouldn't even be a need for the 9/11 Commission because there would have been nothing occuring on September 11, 2001.

What does scare me is how the world works. From what I've read online (I believe it was a Weather Channel website archive, but don't quote me on that), a hurricane was to have slammed into New York City on the evening of September 10, 2001. A cold front veered the storm out into the Atlantic early that evening, and New Yorkers sighed in relief . . . for about twelve hours.

Then again, it's completely a case of "Who Would've Thunk?" Last night, WOAI's (NBC San Antonio) Don Harris told about a time, ten years ago, when a cycling promoter asked him and the station (then KMOL) to interview an up-and-coming cyclist out of Austin named Lance Armstrong. Harris politely obliged and interviewed the young Armstrong, but the interview never aired because, at the time, cycling was not a major sport at all.

As Harris put it last night: "Oops."

As the airport security guards who let the 9/11 hijackers through put it after having the surveillance video released to the public yesterday: "Oops.

Who Would've Thunk?"

The Brady Bunch

2004-07-21T00:33:00.000-05:00

After finishing VBS, what is now on my mind? You got it...

I'M MOVING OUT!

Well, not really. My aunt Tina and cousin Christina (YES, my ever-favorite 12-year-old cousin to the point that she's my sister Christina) are moving from Round Rock to our house, if nothing else purely out of finances (45% of Tina's Travis County paycheck goes to rent alone). At first, Mom was moving them into the garage (where the computer is located), but I volunteered to move to the garage, allowing the two women to have my old room. I figured,

* two women could use the closet room rather than be in the garage with no closet space,
* Christina, being a middle schooler, would be in need of my door's privacy versus the garage being fairly open,
* the garage is larger than my bedroom...okay, call me selfish. :-P

The garage previously has been nothing but a renovated office cluttered with junk, but we have been cleaning out the space so that the two can move in by August 1st. Looking at the walls, I'm very excited to move out into the garage/office so that I can finally unretire my dorm decorations (Ricky and Melissa are the only ones who'd understand my flair for a Times Square-esque decor).

Winning Their Religion

2004-07-21T00:22:00.000-05:00

To finish up about VBS: the rest of the week had some very interesting things and people abound, including:

* the MOST homoerotic group of boys ever assembled in a group. On Tuesday, all the kids played a game in which they had to walk in a different pair of shoes. The boys ALL clamored for the heels, and commented on how each other was a "sexy beast." On top of that, they would call their crew leader, Scott, "Scottie the Hottie" and posed for a photo with him while they provactively pulled up their shirts a la Sports Illustrated swimsuit models.

* my growing infatuation with Bridget. I gained control over it and simply treated her like a friend/sister. Unfortunately, I didn't get a proper chance to say goodbye to her, as she missed school Friday after having her wisdom teeth removed the previous day. :'( Fortuntately, the day before, I sent her off (unknowingly) with a four-pack of Starbucks Vanilla Frappucino (which, her twin sister (the games leader) told me was incredibly sweet of me *blush*).

* an incredibly horrifying script provided by the publisher for Thursday's story: the kids going to a Jerusalem prison and meeting a prisoner who snidely discusses Jesus Christ's crucifixition. Corrie, the Director of Religious Education, took one look at the script before her eyes widened. All I simply told her was, "Yeah, see how I reacted to this, too?" She and I cut left and right before writing up our own letters to the publisher about the script.

Boiled in a nutshell, that was the week. Hectic and hyperactive as the children were this year, this was one of the best VBS summers...enough so that I committed myself to coming back for an eighth consecutive (a parish record, I think) VBS for next year. I committed, if nothing else, to please Kimmy, an incoming HS freshman. Back in 1999-2000, I was Kimmy's fifth grade CCD (Sunday School for you non-Catholics) co-teacher, and---from what I gathered from her mother---she has stuck around and volunteered prolifically purely because I do so as well. She was genuinely saddened when I said I was not sure about returning next summer...but when I said I would for sure, she brightened up and gave me the biggest hug I ever felt from her.

What can I say? I can't turn down Kimmy...every time she sees me, she's genuinely excited to see me, and she's become the little sister I've never had. (I know, "aww" right here...).

Adventures in Bible Teaching

2004-07-18T22:51:00.000-05:00

Only after a weekend getaway back to the coast (which I'll elaborate on later) could I be rested enough for the energy in writing about this past week.

Yeppers, Lava Lava Island---where Jesus's love flows---engulfed every strand of energy I had by Monday afternoon alone. Normally I am not exhausted by vacation bible school until the last day's afternoon, but I felt ZAPPED by two o'clock, followed by unconscious by half-past two.

Monday began with the worst-case scenario: hostile children who let you know when an activity is not cool...that, in fact, it "sucks." As "my starting team of angels," they had to help me, The Head Angel, surprise a pair of sheperds with the message of Christ's birth. In accordance with Scripture (and the script to A Charlie Brown Christmas), they were to be a multitude of Heavenly angels praising God and singing "Joy to the World."

After the first two groups lacklusterly danced (or, to be frank, stood around and rolled their eyes), I enlisted the ever-beautiful, ever-talented, ever-spunky, ever-sexy (YES, dear God, this WOULD evolve into an infatuaton, but I'll 'splain later...) Bridget, who opened and closed each VBS day with all 110 kids singing and dancing, to come out and dance with the kids at the right time. Thankfully, she brought the show back alive. I thanked her profusely with hugs and Starbucks Vanilla Frappucinos (to be fair, I gave her the coffee earlier in the morning BEFORE begging her).

More to come in later posts about the rest of the week...

Silence is broken.

2004-07-07T20:42:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I have come crawling back to the blog, but for one very good announcement:

It took me over 15 years to do so, but
I FINALLY FINISHED THE GAME OF SUPER MARIO BROS. ON NES!

Even my mother wondered why I screamed "YEESSSSS!" (a la Al "Do you believe in miracles?!" Michaels) from the garage.

Beforehand, I successfully (after so many years of trying) discovered the negative world as well. Indeed, it is a neverending underwater world, but it is worth the peek.

The silence is broken, I'm back, I'm on the rag, I'm ovulating, I'm quoting Eminem, somebody LOVE me! :-D

I Quit.

2004-06-25T02:07:00.000-05:00

Thank you for reading, but I am done.

CLARIFICATION: I am done with this blog. I no longer have energy to compose article-length posts as I did when this blog first started, and that does not sit well with me about this opportunity.

Maybe I will resume this someday, but for now I can no longer constructively add on to this. I am going to let this die.

Thank you for reading, but I am done with this.

-30-

George W., you're fired.

2004-06-18T20:41:00.000-05:00

Kvetching Up

2004-06-16T15:26:00.000-05:00

Well, long stories short:

* I am never going on vacation with my mother or Aunt Gloria ever again.

* It is a mistake to push a vacation that my brother and I desperately wanted, even with mom's giddiness over finding any reason to cancel it during the week (starting with last week's rains, followed by bitching about the cost, etc.)

* I am never staying at the Motel 6 ever again, nor anywhere ever again with six people crammed into one room.

* I genuinely hate my cousin Christina now for becoming a teenager with such a fucking Mila Kunis attitude.

* I bitched out the Texas Folklife Festival for having ill-mannered teenagers volunteering at every booth (either they had their backs to me while busy socializing with each other, they cut in front of me for their own service, or WORSE: at one booth two teen girls saw me, covered their mouths to say something, and laughed).

* On top of that all, my mother is still a crabby bitch after vacation. She blew up when I asked her if she picked up some brownies last night, saying we need to lose weight in this house. I scowled and reminded her that it was Dad's birthday, and he loves brownies.

I'm not having a good week at all.

YO SOY LA PUTA DE LA TELE!

2004-06-05T17:51:00.000-05:00

Goodbye, Great Communicator

2004-06-05T16:52:00.000-05:00

1911 - 2004

Memories...

2004-06-03T11:22:00.000-05:00

==Stolen from Sarah, so quitcherbitching!==

I put *stars* by ones I remember (or at least had heard of) and bolded my favorites.

Fresh Prince of Bel-Air*
Fraggle Rock*
G.I. Joe*
Are You Afraid of the Dark?*
Secret World of Alex Mack*
Nightmare Before Christmas*
Welcome Freshmen*
Space Cases
Roundhouse
The Muppet Show*
Muppet Babies*
Eureka's Castle*
Salute Your Shorts*
Legends of the Hidden Temple
You Can't Do That On Television*
G.U.T.S.
What Would You Do?
Double Dare*
Rocko's Modern Life
All That
Ren and Stimpy*
Clarissa Explains It All*
The Torklesons
Pete and Pete
Stick Stickley
Goodburger* (technically, I never heard of it until the film came out)

Angry Beavers
Hey Arnold!*
AAH! Real Monsters
Tiny Toons* (still is!)
Animaniacs* (very much still is!)
Pinky and the Brain*
The Babysitter's Club*

Underdog
Kablam!
Gullah Gullah Island
Richard Scarry
Dumbo's Circus
Ocean Girl
Mystery Files of Shelby Woo*
Dunkaroos
SNICK*
Koala Yummies
Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego?* (ROCKAPELLA!)
Nick Magazine* (forever shall be Linda Ellerbee's only claim to journalistic fame)
The Goonies*
"Ernest..." Movies*
Radio Flyer*
Disney Watchers
Adventures in Wonderland
Homeward Bound*
The Adventures of Yellow Dog
Milo and Otis*

Neverending Story*
Who Framed Roger Rabbit?*
The Lion King*
Labyrinth*
101 Dalmations*
The Secret Garden*
Pete's Dragon*
Hocus Pocus*
Secret of Roan Inish
The Land Before Time*

Dinosaurs*
Fern Gully*
Secret of NIMH*
Gummi Bears*

Care Bears* (STARE!)
A Little Princess
My Little Pony*
Black Beauty
Rainbow Brite*
Lady Lovely Locks
Candyland*
Sorry!*
Trouble*
Don't Wake Daddy!
Mousetrap*
Jenga*
Don't Break the Ice*
Hungry Hungry Hippos* (never got to play)
Cooties*
Tinker Toys*
Sky Dancers
Polly Pocket*

Hypercolor T-Shirts
Lite Brite*
Scrunchies
Side Ponytails
Stirrup Pants
Jellies
Saddle Shoes
Barbies*
Beanie Babies*
Tamagotchies*
Yo-Yos*
Choose Your Own Adventure* (will Jennifer Elliott's ever be written?)
Pogs*
Goosebumps*
Magic Attic Club
American Girl (is this supposed to be All-American Girl*, starring Margaret Cho?)
Island of the Blue Dolphins

Saved By The Bell*
Full House*
Step By Step*
TGIF on ABC*
Sabrina, the Teenage Witch* (I prefer the comics version)
Boy Meets World*
Clueless* (the film, not the TV series)
Mork and Mindy*
The Simpsons* (even through the Christian-bashing, laughless seasons)
Flipper*
Eerie Indiana
Third Rock From the Sun*
The Tracey Ullman Show*
Ghostwriter*
Growing Pains*
Family Ties*

Titanic (the DiCaprio/Danes film*?)
Felix The Cat: The Movie
Jonathan Taylor Thomas*
Home Improvement*
Tom and Huck*
My Brother and Me
Kenan and Kel
Hanson*
Inspector Gadget*
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles*
Power Rangers*
Hot Wheels*
Creepy Crawlers*
Easy Bake Oven* (wish I had one)
Flower Making Kits

Weinerville
Wild and Crazy Kids*
Playdough McDonald's Sets*
Animorphs
Rainbow Fish
If You Give A Mouse A Cookie*
Bailey School Kids
Wayside School* (too bad it's already been optioned for stage adaptations)
Mrs. Piggle Wiggle
Boxcar Kids
Ramona Quimby* (hehe)

Amber Brown
Roald Dahl
Esio Trot
Allegra's Window
3-2-1 Contact

Mr. Wizard*
Superman*
Shera
Captain Caveman* (and Son!)
LA Gear*
New Kids on the Block*
Strawberry Shortcake*

(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)

2004-06-01T17:42:00.000-05:00

(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)
(If there is one person you can't stop thinking about, post this same exact sentence in your journal.)

Yep...she's really got me now. She's really got it...she's really got it. Girl...she's really got me now...

Pompous Circumcision

2004-05-29T18:08:00.000-05:00

Back in 2000 (which, I can not believe, was four years ago as of this last Thursday), I held my sense of humor together by creating lyrics to "Pompous Circumcision" during my high school graduation.

God, I needed those lyrics last night for a little while.

My cousin Jake graduated from Lytle HS last night. The ceremony thankfully resembled Roosevelt 2000's: short, short, and short. The Lytle ISD superintendent didn't make a speech...which is much more than I could've wished for out of Dr. Middleton at my graduation.

The class Valedictorian gave a maudlin speech about all the graduates being dying leaves: as graduates, they fall from the tree of parental and community protection, left to make a spectacle of their ownselves on the ground as either bright red, yellow, and orange leaves to be taken in by schoolchildren for show and tell...or as browns and grays left to clog up the drains, drowning in rainwater and soaking up oil from the cold November traffic.

"It was the most depressing thing I've ever heard." And to think my speech (as well as every creation I proposed for my senior class) was declined for graduation...

The Salutatorian was no better, as she was a complete nervous wreck and gave jokes that had no laughter behind it or elicited. At least she compared the class to jellybeans instead of dead leaves.

Bad speakers aside, the fifty-five minute ceremony came and went with Jake earning his diploma.

How's this for a graduation curse being in our family? He was mistakenly given a Regular Graduation Course diploma instead of the Recommended/Honors diploma he was supposed to have.

It's four years later, and I STILL do not have my National Honor Society stamp to put onto my diploma.

Jake joined the family for about two hours before jetting off to Project Graduation...and he wore the gift that I gave him to PG. He enjoyed what I gave him: $50 check, a Simpsons Hi-Ball glass, and a UT shirt with an awesome sheen Longhorn logo on the center. Yes, you read right: he's going to UT this fall (and, thankfully for him in his first year, he's staying at Dobie). In fact, as he passed by me in the final processional, we saluted each other with the Hook 'em Horns.

God willing he and I both will be finishing as Longhorns...

Who's Sorry Now?

2004-05-26T15:46:00.000-05:00

I am for the previous post. Not only did I have the critiques, but:

* Boots had gotten a bad cut on his leg...almost resembling a bite. Mom gave him a pain pill, but thirty minutes later he was drooling and foaming at the mouth. So, while Mom and Mike took him to the hospital, I'm praying the entire time that he's not rabid. Turns out that the pill was disgusting to him, and he was trying to spit the taste out (the pill also formed foam). The cut was a mere fighting badge, so he was given more pain medication to take.

* My wallet wound up lost for 24 hours. I finally found it underneath a pile of papers in my room. Thing is, I normally NEVER have my wallet in that particular portion of the room, so I frantically searched everywhere in dim light (my fluorscent lights were giving out).

Anyway, I'm sorry.

Fuck Off.

2004-05-25T05:02:00.000-05:00

I've joined an online writer's critiquing circle website, owned and operated by THE Francis Ford Coppola.

In the last twenty-four hours, someone e-mailed me saying that he just couldn't get "Brush Strokes." He didn't understand the meaning of it:
"The style of your writing is somewhat overdone for my taste; too many adverbs, too many thats, coulds and woulds. Then there is the dialogue, which does not sound natural to me when I read it aloud. The 16-year-old girl who is featured in the story did not come to life for me. The way you characterize her is two-dimensional. Her family relationships are plausible conceptually, but again, don’t seem real. And finally, the story feels way too long for the simple content. Whatever point you are trying to make about this girl and her life can probably be written in 2,000 words." (As is, "Brush Strokes" sits at 6,700+).

A month prior, of course, I had this comment about "Brush Strokes":
"I would expect this work to go through a few revisions, but the most important question you should ask yourself before you do is, what exactly are you trying to accomplish with the story? Why are you writing it? Why do you like the character, Adriane? Can you write a paragraph summary of the plot? Right now, the story is a bunch of fragments, memories that are pasted together haphazardly. Of course, that is the way we think, I agree with you, but the situations and characters are not built up enough for the reader to extract what’s going on. What is further confounding is that the voice is set in third person. It might make more sense to write it in first person, since the action never sways from Adriane’s memories and a few present actions. Also, there needs to be some balance--the beginning prose section is almost too detailed, too long, with too many details that are not important (that she looks like work of art, blah, blah) and then when you start into the dialog, the scenes are not fleshed out enough---I often heard myself thinking, “what is going on here?”

I know ultimately what you are trying to in trying to build the pieces together to discover the hole in Adriane’s life that the deaths of her family created and her relationship with her mother intensifies, but you don’t give enough pieces to the puzzle. The characters are way too flat for the reader to elicit any sympathy or motivations. Also, I would strip out the barrage of pop culture references, the songs and celebrities and such. Good stories are timeless in their situations and their characters, and this sort of labeling, unless central to the theme of the story, will simply date it."

And, now, I just entered "Beyond Nielsen," my latest one-act play, into the critiquing fray. I put on the tagline that this was ONLY Act One of a planned full-length play. And, so...
"I can sum up my criticism in a few incomplete sentences. Too many scenes. Too many characters. Too many stage directions. Too many spelling errors. [NONE. I TRIPLE-CHECKED.] No character development. No theme. No climax. As written the play reads more like an incomplete movie short or final college project than a viable work for the stage. Also, I have a fine appreciation for irony, farce, etc.; however, I found nothing about this work either intellectually engaging or comic. It appears to be a series of loosely connected incidents that as a whole amount to very little.

"Taking scene one into consideration, neither Jerry nor the Teamster has any real purpose, or the stagehands for that matter. They add nothing to the scene, excepting that Jerry’s blunderings cause the chef to quit (but it is already apparent that the show is going down the drain so the incident is a waste of space). Several pages are spent with Jerry and it goes nowhere, cut it. Concerning the show itself, it has more of a community theatre feel than a legitimate talk show. Granted a degree of artistic license is available to push the envelope, but in this case it is bordering farce or bombast. There is a set up with Veronica that goes nowhere, cut that too unless you plan on doing something with it.

"Scene two can be cut almost entirely. The foil is Peggy (since Veronica goes nowhere), why waste any pages getting around to her? In addition, where there is no story any legitimate audience will grown weary of the fucks and shits after about 30 seconds, so delaying said conflict will only tire the viewer even more.

"Moving on to the final scenes, without a body the head will perish, so until a viable premise is set up the ending is hollow and useless – it means nothing and has no impact.

Edgy one act material can be successful. Try reading Shawn’s “A Thought in Three Parts” for an example of how pornography/language can be used well in the theatre."

Do the words "ONLY ACT ONE OF A PLANNED FULL-LENGTH PLAY" MEAN GODDAMN NOTHING?!

To be fair, of course, there have been constructive critiques on "Brush Strokes"...even two glowing reviews...one from an English doctorate professor at Berkeley College in NYC.

Okay, I don't feel so pissed after all. I wanted to end this with "so, fuck it all...if my head's going to blow, let it be quick...damn it!" But...nah. I'll keep writing, and take the negative critiques as guidelines of where someone more congenial would be confused.

So, I shall keep writing...

...so long as someone finally comments on here...

...damn it!

(I couldn't resist ending the post with "damn it"...damn it!)

Hot Sex in a Bucket of Cones

2004-05-23T18:12:00.000-05:00

Nothing much, just wanted to mutter "hot sex in a bucket of cones" out loud.

Always Low IQs. Always.

2004-05-22T16:24:00.000-05:00

Now I remember why I hate going to Wal-Mart anytime other than late night:

Mike and I went to WM at Nacogdoches and 1604 around 9 P.M. last night...right in the heart of Madison High School territory. Forever and ever on weekend nights, the Maverick brats will converge on that parking lot...or Sonic nearby...and just be complete idiots.

As we entered, a group of fifteen or so teenagers were gathered at the front...as we passed, they shouted "Attention Wal-Mart shoppers! Target is having a sale! Let's all go there!"

Found out from one of my former Religious Ed students that it was part of a scavenger hunt/prank.

Ahh, fucking teenagers. And, yet, I'm paid $75 a day to babysit them. How's that for irony?

The Snooze Alarm

2004-05-21T06:04:00.000-05:00

Like everyone else, I'm just sleepwalking through the time right after finals. It's called the see-if-I-really-care days of summer.

My Sunday reading of "Apartment 9502" was called off because some family members dropped by Sunday morning and decided to throw Mom a surprise birthday party. I didn't mind it at all...but, the playhouse wasn't really thrilled, considering they went on a mad dash to find readers. :-( I'll have to find a way to make amends...

About four hours after the Spurs season ended on Saturday night/Sunday morning (it WAS 4 A.M., now that I think about it), I finished my Madrigal submission, "The Merry House of DeBaucherie." As usual, the really fun game of "Wait" commences until mid-Juneish. Anyone reading this who wants a copy, e-mail me. (Yes, you are reading that correctly, I managed to snag "author" with a mail server.)

Wednesday, Julie calls, and we hang out at Jim's and her apartment. I take the opportunity to take some photos of her playing with her kitty, Amaya. (You can take the artist out of film school, but you can't take film school out of the artist, now can you?). Plus, what can I say? Julie is such a photogenic subject that I can't resist. ==Hush, people who know my love life history.==

Otherwise...I'm enjoying a life of writing, raising a new kitty, and hugging best friends, all one nap at a time.

Heartbreak Hotel

2004-05-16T04:26:00.000-05:00

If you can no longer cheer on your hometown team...who can you cheer on? Let us see...

Lakers: four future Prima-Donna Legends with such a southern California attitude strikes them from contention.

Pacers: the whole feud about Ron Artest vs. Bruce Bowen's deserving of Defensive Player of the Year leaves a bitter taste to an average San Antonio fan.

Kings: only thugs seem to wear their jerseys.

Nets: why would I want them to win after losing to the Spurs last year?

So, people of San Antonio, the only good choices left are saying "GO, Timberwolves/Pistons/Heat, GO!"

Frankly, since San Antonio business Red McCombs owns the Minnesota Vikings, I think the Timberwolves ought to be a natural extension.

Therefore...GO, TIMBERWOLVES, GO! MAKE GARNETT THE FINALS MVP!

What's in a Name?

2004-05-15T15:08:00.000-05:00

M - Success comes easily to you.

A - You can be very quiet when you have something on your mind.

T - You have an attitude, a big one.

T - You have an attitude, a big one.

H - You are not judgemental.

E - You are a very exciting person.

W - You like your privacy.

Oh, shit, I'm light...?

2004-05-15T13:29:00.000-05:00

MILLER LITE: You're not pretentious, but you have
certain expectations of the people you spend
time with. You're a fun person, though, and an
unconscious flirt. People enjoy being around
you, even if you don't treat them kindly. A
beer which is an only choice for some, but
liked all around, for a person who is picky
themselves but well regarded.

The Greatest Beer Quiz, ever!
brought to you by Quizilla

See Evil, Hear Evil, Speak No Joke

2004-05-14T21:31:00.000-05:00

Within the past day or so, two Portland-area radio personalities trivialized the recent brutal decapitation of an American citizen held hostage in Iraq. The radio station promptly apologized, and terminated the two tasteless deejays.

Where do I even begin a commentary about this? This is in the same vein as the Humorous Interpretation performance I critiqued in November. As you might remember, part of the piece included a joke about the performer having a double identity as an Arabic terrorist who yields a call, cheekily smiles to the audience, and says "Hang on a second." The performer imitates an airborne airplane, and then holds up his arms and collapses them as he makes a crashing sound.

There is never an appropriate moratorium on ridiculing a topic as severe as a hostage's death, 9/11, an actual suicide, or even The Passion of Jesus Christ. Even today, I would not make a joke about Pearl Harbor. It was a cruel, dispicable act back then as it is today.

These two gentlemen should be permanently blacklisted from the industry. I even think that Howard Stern should be retroactively canned from the air: in 1995, just a week after Tejano singer Selena's death by gunshot wounds, he played a Selena track dubbed with gunshots. I guarantee that he would have been publicly lynched had he did that a year earlier with Kurt Cobain's firearm suicide.

Why wasn't he really publicly chastised for it, though? Stern was thrown off the air in south Texas, but the rest of the country continued to air him.

Even in the New York Friar's Club Roast of October 2001, Gilbert Gottfried made a horribly-timed joke that after he was done with that show, his plane had to make a stop at the Empire State Building. Yet, he's really not blacklisted now at all.

So, what is it about cruel humor? Make it, possibly be fired, but ultimately crack another bad joke later? Even George Carlin, a normally abraisive comic, took a rally cry approach to 9/11 humor than vicious, unsympathetic jabs: from ideas of using Green Bay Packers, Chicago Bears, Minnesota Vikings, and Detroit Lions fans ("the kind who eat quite a lot of cheese and bratwurst") to flatuate into every Afghani cave in hopes of flushing Osama bin Laden out of hiding to hiring Rudy Guiliani, "a pissed-off Italian from Brooklyn," to head up the international war on terror.

So long as we have insensitive jackasses with no sense of timing, we will continue to fire them from the air.

Animal House

2004-05-13T12:10:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, my mother found a barely-week-old kitten near her school. The kitten was in the middle of the street, apparently by human doing as the kitten can barely crawl.

I swear that whole community Mom teaches are Children of Satan...and their parents, too. She went to the nearest front porch from where she found the kitten and asked if it was theirs. They denied it. So she then wondered if it'd be okay for her to take it...they enthusiastically encouraged her to do so.

Children of Satan. No denying that.

The kitten is home, has been fed kitten's milk, and has been kept warm in a little Coca-Cola tray. The little tyke was covered in fleas, so we gave it a flea bath. Naturally, the three cats are wary about approaching it. Mom kept trying (despite my shouting at her to STOP) to get Cupcake and the little tyke together, for warmth and motherly instincts. However, if I'm correct, I see that mother birds are very protective and will fight anyone who approaches her young to the death. I assume the same's true for cats.

So far, it's alive, it's breathing, meowing, a cuddly little adventurous tyke who crawls all over my body, enjoys the warmth of my hands, and has been dubbed Pantera.

Inside the All-Actress Studio

2004-05-12T11:32:00.000-05:00

I'm happy that I earned another A; this time, in Acting I. My instructor, Paula, enjoyed my critique of her show "Anton in Show Business" that I thought I should publish it. It earned me a 100, so why not. Enjoy:

INSIDE THE ALL-ACTRESS STUDIO
“Anton in Show Business”
by Matt Turner

One of the biggest holes that playwrights fail to notice and dive in head-first—--with such frequency, sadly—--comes from building on geographical stereotypes. Sure, Jane Martin’s pure satire. Still, as a San Antonio native, I constantly have a bad taste in my mouth whenever I hear this city mentioned in any form of entertainment, because the city’s longstanding stereotype has been nothing but cowboys, oil drills, and riding horses to school (thankfully, at least, the Spurs success has driven NBC and ABC to notice that, ah, we even have a non-Caucasian majority here, thanks to Fiesta’s huge presence). Martin’s delicious acting satirefest, Anton in Show Business, transplants three actresses in different stages of their careers in San Antonio for a hicks-and-sticks production of Anton Chekov’s “The Three Sisters.” The playwright gives the audience only a little taste of the locale, beyond being a good ol’ boy city.

I never though that a playwright would say this...let alone me...but, thank God for directors. Especially directors who know how to bring a little more life into the script. Paula Rodriguez’s infusion of a truer San Antonio in the script (from tejano music playing during scene changes to the cheeky Alamo outline in the scenery) could be seen as patronizing towards a hometown crowd...but so what? It gives it a little more authentic taste of the play’s locale that a majority of scripts (that are not based in New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, or New England) sadly lack. The city itself is a character, since the doomed-to-fail production could have been placed in any given non-top-ten city, and Rodriguez seizes the city’s character opportunity. Not to mention that this is Jane Martin, a pure dark comedy with women dressed up as men. Since when does EVERY production have to follow convention?

If that were the case, we would never have had David Mamet.

At Rodriguez’s disposal on-stage is an estrogenic cavalcade of talent that any director could dream to have (The Vagina Monologues or not). Not to focus on the fact that the cast is all women ad nauseam, but the amount of talent on stage at once just makes the show even more exciting and hilarious, particularly the main trio of Jessica Ramírez (could not help but laugh and smile with her as the fresh-off-the-UIL-One-Act-Play-trolley ingénue Lisabette), Rebecca Bernstein (so hilariously abrasive in Casey’s off-Broadway frame of mind), and Amber Roy (who else could have channeled a Julia Roberts ego in a Tara Reid body than her as Holly?). As much fun and talent the trio gave on opening night, I applauded most (and wound up giving a supporting actress vote) for Yinelly Arnold’s gender-turns as a British director and, most certainly where my vote of confidence came from, Jerry Garcia-inspired helmer Wickewitch with such tenacity that theater fans just do not find often.

The remaining ensemble provided some hits and misses. Danielle Woodward showed some range with a reserved-turned-Girl-Gone-Wild-For-Lisabette Kate (showing she can be reserved, compared to A Day Without Palestine, and without a British accent, a la Benefactors). Laura Garza gave great energy as T’Anne, the director with a cause (and without a clue), but lost energy and significant vocal clarity as huckster businessman Andwyneth Wyore. Christina Ruiz, at least on opening night, exuded no energy, no honest projection, nor any assured body language at all as the guitar-toting Ben Shipwright. Part of it may have been opening night jitters, and part may have been staying true to a character standard that ‘good ol’ boys’ have no extrovertive swagger in reality.

Reality schmeality! In theater, be bombastic or refund my money.
Even though Angelica Mañez had limited time on-stage, she added a by-then-needed ‘fab five’ flair in Jackey to offer a little counteraction (even if it was homosexually male, it was fun) to the feminine feel of the play.

Jennifer Sweet, as the audience’s voice throughout the play in Joby, nearly gave me chills the first night, if only because I wondered how long it would be before an audience member became confused and thought the show had an open-forum with the audience. Thankfully, on opening night, that never occured, so Sweet was able to speak for us with ease.

Opening night went without major technical glitches, a rarity indeed. Teri Castro and Jesse Arenas’s lighting design simply looked cool in the opening and just helped the show flow without the use of blackouts (my personal hatred), although Martin’s script helped facilitate a free-flow in lights and sound between scenes. Jennifer Zertuche showed, once again, she is the costuming wizard, giving each actress distinctly vivid looks, from television hottie and all-black-serious-actor to Rastafarian visionary and fight-the-power revolutionary. Coupled with a simplistic-yet-effective Deborah Coates scene design and a soundtrack-worthy sound design by John Muñoz, the show just about had the opening crowd at its feet to dance with the actors on-stage.

Weekend at Mattie's

2004-05-11T11:36:00.000-05:00

Well, as for how my weekend unfolded...

Friday night, I lost out on Best Actor. But, I turned heads by bringing Julie to the banquet. There were a few happy to see her...and a few who gave her a cold shoulder, still pissed off at her from "Ming Tree."

What did I care, though? I knew Julie would enjoy the night the most, and I wanted her to come. To hell with those still mad at her at SAC.

And, of course...I said my goodbyes. I decided that I had finished my stay at SAC Theatre, and it's now time to move on to INFINITY AND BEYOND...dependent on how much Infinity gives me in financial aid, natch.

After the banquet, I drove Julie over to where she's housesitting for the next few weeks (VERY elegant home in Alamo Heights, I must say), and then we both went off to Heat (a gay bar in San Antonio). She's a regular and VERY much the wanted girl by all the gay men. Needless to say, I got free drinks off of her all night. ;-) (Hey, I paid for dinner, so why not...)

Finally crashed at 3:30. Woke up next day at 11:00, realizing that Melissa's party was just around the corner. So, I got some clothes together and drove up...misread Briane's directions...and found myself in La Grange, approximately sixty miles east of Austin. I circled back to Austin, and drove within a mile or two of the road I needed to find...however, I was not finding it...and I mistook a previously-passed Chevron for the exit (620). So, after coming back to 620 and going up that road for sometime...I gave up and went back home...not realizing I was VERY close.

Eh, c'est la vie. I simply owe Melissa drinks after missing out on her party, then. ;-)

The Facelift

2004-05-10T09:55:00.000-05:00

Pardon the shift, but I felt it was time to say goodbye to that huge Ferrero Rocher/Times Square ball background. Say hello to the new look, everybody everywhere.

2004-05-10T08:49:00.000-05:00

A Pet

Dinah

My godparents' German Shepherd for about ten years now. A true sweetheart and very playful and personable, she always loves to come over to Mom's backyard garden and frolic away in the all the little nooks and cranies that she could comfortably rest in.

Of course, my fiesty cat Boots would scare poor Dinah away from enjoying the yard. Once we got Boots inside, though, Dinah was free to roam the place...and she loves it. Whenever Bonnie, my Godmother, would grab the leash, Dinah would jump up and down, thinking that it was time to "go over to Aunt Olivia's garden."

Sunday May 9, 2004: Dinah suffered a fatal heart attack. Tears poured out Bonnie's sadness, compounded by the fact that Tashiere, her tabby of seventeen years, had passed away only two months before.

After consoling Bonnie for sometime, I spent the rest of the night petting and playing with my three kitty brats. Each of them with some sort of special way of recognizing me...Boots patting his paw on my hand, Valentine meowing, and Cupcake rolling around in want of play.

For all the Dinahs, Tashieres, Silvers, Pumpkins, and other loved furry ones in the world, please pet a little one today in their honor.

That, or raise a Fisherman's Choice toast in their honor before letting the kitties feast.

2004-05-08T12:00:00.000-05:00

Accolades

Nominees for Best Actor in a Leading Role:
Jesse Arenas, A Day Without Palestine
Benito Lara, David's Mother
Skoud'r, Davus
Matt Turner, Counter Intelligence

And the award went to...Benito Lara, David's Mother.

I would've been disappointed if he didn't win, to tell you the truth. He made that role.

I did not go empty-handed, however...on my plaque that I received:

Theatre & Communication
Department
San Antonio College
2003-04
Theatre Internship

Public Relations
Matt Turner

2004-05-08T11:54:00.000-05:00

Twenty-One Spankings, All Around!

Just my own way of welcoming the newest member of the elite American Legal-Age Group, the Able To Fully Love Sixth Street Society, and the League of Honest-to-Goodness Adulthood: Melissa Louise Morris.

2004-05-07T08:16:00.000-05:00

Any Big Surprise?

I'm Chandler Bing from Friends!

Take the Friends Quiz here.

created by stomps.

2004-05-06T18:54:00.000-05:00

A Decade's Finale

Rachel moves to Paris, but not before selling Emma on the black market so she can freely enjoy Gay Pair-ee.

Ross comes out of the closet and secretly sucks Joey behind everyone's back.

Chandler actually pines for Janice and divorces Monica, who immediately sucks Richard's dick.

Princess Consuela "Phoebe" Banana-Hammock announces that she's secretly Mira Sorvino, and that "Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion" pulled the same cinematic trickery as "The Parent Trap."

In the final scene, they are trapped by Ugly Naked Guy, who is angry about the constant privacy invasion, and has them all shot. Even Susan, in much needed come-uppance for ruining Ross's heart like that!

Okay, okay...

Monica and Chandler? BING to the Suburbs, happily and wittily.

Pheebs? Probably announces she's lesbian, but I ain't betting on it.

Joey? Meets an actress, who's a 9/11 widow, decides to pursue her on her move to LA, setting up the spinoff.

Rachel gives up Paris for Ross in a tear-jerking, lackluster final scene.

Slight Change

2004-05-06T09:21:00.000-05:00

I changed the title of my Blog slightly, just for proper grammatical effect.

Art is life, and I love my life.

...and I still do.

2004-05-06T08:59:00.000-05:00

***!@#$%^&*()***

Yesterday, I subbed once again at Ed White.

Immediately, the Drama/Speech teacher asked if I could take a day for her sometime soon...another $75 in my pocket coming up soon. ^_^ (Small world note: her husband was "Counter Intelligence" director).

Anyhoo, first class off the bat...I'm in charge of "the worst class on campus," according to the teacher in the room behind me that day. I found out firsthand when a words-and-punches fight broke out in the class. She had to come to my aid, seperate two boys, get the class silenced, and escort the boys to the office.

Fortunately, my next three classes were quite cooperative. I had English 6 classes, the last being Honors. Things were quite smooth, even as I averted what would've been a semantics riot over the word "nigger":all classes were reading "...Tom Sawyer" aloud, and when the word came up, I explained that in the book's time, the word meant a simple identification of a race, contrasted to today's connotation as an insult. A black, smartass student dared me to say it...and I boldly said, "No. In today's context, it is a vicious attack of an insult, and I will not say it."

Same boy, of course, kept bitching...not about "nigger," but because I called on other people to read after he had his opportunity. At first, he muttered "it's because I'm black." Lo and behold to his ignorance, the next student in line was an African-American girl. So, his new bitch: "It's because I'm a boy." So, I simply told him, "You'll have plenty of opportunities to read this in I.S.S. if you continue to complain."

That finally shut him up.

And just when I thought the day was done: with 15 minutes to go, a delegation of PALs wanted to see a student for a moment. My policy, however, is that I will not allow students out to see anyone who is not a teacher, administrator, officer, or properly identified office aide (nope, not even parents...they must clear the office first). They said that they only wanted to see the student outside for a second (I later found out to hand them a letter inviting the student into PALs). I again declined their request, saying I needed a signed and dated note from the sponsor or the sponsor's presence.

The leader of the delegation left with a negative attitude, rolling her eyes, and saying "Oh, great..come on we gotta..." muttering as she left. After class, I contacted the sponsor and told her about the situation and the delegation's negative attitude. She apologized profusely, and I wrote up all five students in the delegation for interrupting my class, arguing with my decision not to let them see the student, and exhibiting a negative attitude.

Am I tough? Tough shit, I am!

2004-05-04T11:07:00.000-05:00

Dirty Old Pervert That I Am

Yes, call me a dirty pervert, but was I the only hetero male in the United States who had a trouser tree sprout when watching Lindsay Lohan and her amazingly D-cups spoof Harry Potter on last weekend's "Saturday Night Live"?

I know, I know...but shut up. At least now hands can rejoice in jerking to Amanda Bynes and not feel guilty about it.

2004-05-04T10:20:00.000-05:00

The Poison Summer

For the longest time (honestly), I always thought the lyric in Don Henley's "The Boys of Summer" went "...after the poison somewhere has gone."

How 'sadfully' for me.

Last night was my one and only final, so I am now on summer break. Banquet is Friday night, and I know I'm going to love one last night of the drama department peeps...Best Actor award or not. Most likely not, considering I'm nominated against Benito Lara, who portrayed the developmentally-disabled David in "David's Mother." When it opened, I openly said that I would be disappointed if he didn't win a (Alamo Theater Arts Council) Globe. So, most likely, he'll win the department award...and HOPEFULLY the city Globe. I'm happy to even be recognized this year, since I was passed over for a Supporting nod in "The Mystery of the Ming Tree."

Who knows, I might have a (dark horse's) chance at the Globes myself in September. The ATAC does not name nominees anymore...there's multiple winners possible per category (example: there were eight Best Actors in a Musical for last year). Generally, though, there's no more than two or three winners in a category. So, who knows...

Beyond that...still in a writing daze.

2004-04-30T15:46:00.000-05:00

A Little More Action, Please

1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says: "'wreck.' So that afternoon we cleaned house." (The Tree House Detective Club)

2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?: a shelf

3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?: "The Price is Right"

4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is: 3:30 P.M.

5: Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?: 3:48 P.M.

6: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?: my fan

7: When did you last step outside? what were you doing?: Two hours ago to get the mail.

8: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?: the Hubert Selby, Jr. eulogy website

9: What are you wearing?: gray t-shirt and red shorts (how Judson/Lee HS of me)

10: Did you dream last night?: see one of my previous posts from today

11: When did you last laugh really hard?: last night while watching "Late Night with Conan O'Brien"

12: What is on the walls of the room you are in?: blue paint and an atlas wallpaper

13: Seen anything weird lately?: considering my life? no.

14: what do you think of this quiz?: meh. Wonder what teenager wrote this?

15: What is the last film you saw?: "Requiem for a Dream" (just yesterday, in fact...odd, considering Selby's passing was just one day prior and I did not know)

16: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?: the rights to produce the next Hollywood musical

17: Tell me something about you that I don't know: I have $25 cash on hand.

18: If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?: I would eradicate cynics. The world needs less naysayers and eyerollers, don't you think?

19: Do you like to dance?: Preferably with someone.

20: Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?: Olivia or Bonnie would be her middle name...my wife gets dibs on the first name.

21: Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?: Mark Joseph

22: Would you ever consider living abroad?: I do, every Halloween night I get.

Oh, not "a broad." Definitely Italy. I don't want to live in Greece anymore...they banned all electronic games. :-(

23: are you hott? Nah, it's 73 degrees inside.

2004-04-30T15:43:00.000-05:00

Oh, Shut Up...

Are you a good guesser?

Pathetic

You are either just unlucky, or plain stupid. There's a naughty corner. Go sit in it. And put that dunce cap on while you're there.

Click Here to Take This Quiz
Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

2004-04-30T15:34:00.000-05:00

Requiem for a Creator

Hubert Selby, Jr.
Author of "Last Exit to Brooklyn" and "Requiem for a Dream"
July 23, 1928 - April 26, 2004

2004-04-30T14:28:00.000-05:00

My Sick Sense

One Sourdough Jack disagreeing with my system? Cost me $37.50 that I would've earned subbing at TR today (I cancelled with about an hour to go...I felt that ill).

Three and a half hours later, I feel better. Damned.

Touching on Ricky's dream post, I had a dream this morning before waking up. I was at the H-E-B on O'Connor Rd. (the northeast suburban side of SA for you out-of-towners, comparable to SW Austin), although it had a ritzy remodeling job with a French market look, a la "La Madeline." For thirty minutes, I built up a sweat playing basketball in the dairy & soda section with some people in my Acting I class. Amazing, considering that I was shooting almost 80%, when in reality I shoot more like 5%.

Play would stop when we'd look for the ball behind the milk (I ain't kidding, Ricky, it WAS Promised Land Peaches n' Cream), the flowers, or in the potato chips.

Finally, play stopped altogether. So, I looked around the deli area...which looked strangely like the deli counter at the H-E-B on Red River in Austin (anyone who shopped while living on campus will know what I'm talking about), only with a La Madeline put right in. As I pushed my cart along, some young black child (I can't say African-American, because how do I know that he isn't, in fact, of Australian aborigine descent? TAKE THAT, PC'ERS!) trailed along, blocking me from getting to the frozen food shelves, constantly saying "Can't buy that! Can't buy that!"

Finally, I smacked him aside with the cart. He called me a "fat ass fuck" and ran to his mother, who gave me a thumbs-up. I muttered, "Fucking little brat." Right behind me, an old woman in a motorized wheelchair scolded, "Oh, no. Matthew, I can not believe you." I turned to the cripple and belted, "Oh, shut the fuck off!" (Not "up," but "shut the fuck off.")

That's when I woke up to the sound of mom passing by my room. She was giving me a compliment by showing how astonished she was that I did the dishes AND cleaned the oven the night before by saying, "I can not believe you...DID THAT."

2004-04-29T23:28:00.000-05:00

It's a Mad, Mad World I'm About to Post...

but...

LAS KETCHUP STILL SUCKS!

and

'PEANUTS' STILL RULE!

PEANUTS FOREVER! LAS KETCHUP NEVER!

I announce, as well...

I TOOK BRITNEY SPEARS'S, JESSICA ALBA'S, JENNIFER GARNER'S, AND NATALIE PORTMAN'S VIRGINITIES!

The battle lines have been drawn!

Oh, and...

GO SPURS GO!

What, you think I'd actually root for those prima donnas in LA? Get real...

2004-04-29T06:08:00.000-05:00

And the Kvetch Shall Set You Free!

From the online version of the San Antonio Express-News:
"'Rude service at library'

"I give the Central Library an A-minus in how well its catalog is stocked and an F in customer service.

"On Wednesday [April 21st], I was perusing the sixth-floor shelves when a security guard informed me that the library was now closed for the evening (the stroke of 9 p.m.). I informed the guard that I needed to grab one more book that was within 10 seconds' discovery.

"The guard curtly repeated that the library was closed and, within five seconds, shut off the library's lights, leaving me in enough darkness that I could barely make my way to the main walking area and the elevator.

"Had the guard not been impatient, I would have found the book within five more seconds. Instead, I left as an angry taxpayer wondering why I would receive such curt service from someone whose salary I pay. In other forms of business, the employee would have been fired for such rudeness and impatience. Would the guard have been this rude to a mother trying to find a book for her child?

Matt Turner."

P.S. - I had to go back the following afternoon to find the book I needed, no thanks to the lesbian rent-a-cop from that previous night.

Honestly, what is about bureaucrats that they are so short-tempered about you being inside their precious, TAXPAYER-FUNDED buildings one second after their posted closing time? Do they not realize that if people want to be in the building a little longer, it just means they can push for longer hours on the next budget assessment, granting them---GASP!---more money?? Money, money, money! Yes, Mr. Turner, please do get your book! Yippie! Three seconds over! Overtime! More funding! Yippie! Bureaucrats rejoice, jumping to the left and right with their hands on their hips like Tiny Toons's GoGo, screaming "Woohoo! Woohoo! Yeehoohoo!" And, on the way out, all redtapers jump onto their desks and counters, dancing and singing "La Macarena" on your way out! Even the security guard! Not just humming or making up Spanish mumbojumbo gibberish...the actual lyrics! And they're lined up from the door, so it's a conga line parade, a la "Hey! Deck the Halls, Deck the Halls" Madrigal dancing!

Think of how much happier city, county, state, and federal employees would be if that were the normal closing procedure. And it doesn't have to forever be "La Macarena." No, it can vary from day to day. "You Should Be Dancing" Travolta-style! "Mambo No. 5" jump jivin'! "Electric Boogaloo"...erm...electric boogalooing.

It can be scary, of course, when you consider that teachers are state employees, too. Imagine, you Roosevelters, that for every Heather Farmer, Leo Trevino (sadly no longer there), John Nelson (I'm hoping that was the second-in-command band leader's first name...) and Barbara Whitney/Spriggs gettin' down at 3:10/3:45/whatever time we left, there would be the Carolyn Noseff boogie, the Linda Claar pole dance, the Mike Millegan devilishly tempting strut, the Sue Etheredge bikini waltz, and the Lorena Guerra shimmery-shimmy-shake.

(No, I did not forget the Sarabeth Eckhardt/Rebe topless martini shaker...I just choose to forget, thank you. For the sake of my own sanity. Although I still chuckle at the Nancy Redding-Gov. Ann Richards gun-toting two-step duet...that one's for anyone (of the five or six) who did StuCo our freshman year...).

2004-04-28T16:15:00.000-05:00

Inside the Writer's Studio

Yep, I've somehow lost my creative, incindiary wit (well, maybe not...(go to the bottom for the rant)). I turned in a critique without a really witty title for once. For "Anton in Show Business," an all-female show, I simply turned in my critique as "Inside the All-Actress Studio." I told Paula, my acting instructor this spring, that I think I had decided to resign after I turned down "The Vagina Dialogues."

I'm in Bailey's Cyber Cafe once again...a misnomer now, since the health inspector shut down their coffee operations a year ago. Anyway, it's rather quiet in here...I want to break out singing "Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Stayin' Alive!" for some odd reason, just to break the monotony. (Funnier if you pronounce it 'MAH-no-toe-nee".)

2004-04-23T06:22:00.000-05:00

The Minions Rejoice!

Donnie Darko makes a theatrical re-debut. I've never seen it...but, I'd be intrigued to see that and May on the big-screen.

(Too late, by the way, for I've already enjoyed the pleasure of seeing Requiem for a Dream on the silver screen...MUCH better that way than on the small screen).

2004-04-22T18:19:00.000-05:00

One Song Glory

It's unusually odd of me to let a week go by without an update here. But, since it has gone, well, I shall break it and update the masses about "Matt," Vol. XXII, Ch. 114.

Friday was a bit a bust. I was contacted to judge the Central Texas NFL Districts at Clemens the past weekend. Since the tournament began at 4:15 P.M., I declined two substitute offers for that day so that I could make it to the tournament on time (and earn $165 for the weekend). At 2:00 P.M. Friday, I was e-mailed that I was not needed to judge.

$75 potential subbing money plus $165 potential judging money VANISHED. I was pissed going into the weekend.

Sunday came with "Easter 2." The rains on Easter weekend kept away two aunts and my ever-so-favorite cousin Christina, so they came down this past Sunday to celebrate a second Easter. Still no Easter eggs and NO CHOCOLATE (my aunts have been duped into Atkins, and talked mom into it as well. May Dr. Atkins sit at the right hand of Satan for all eternity, that conniving, misguiding bastard).

Since then, I've been TRYING to keep atop my final exam/duet acting scene for Acting (performing David Ives's "Sure Thing" is NOT an easy task).

Out of the blue, I came up with the first act of a completely brand new play, "Beyond Nielsen." You'll have to wait to see what it's about...or simply e-mail me for a copy of the play if you're in dire need of something that isn't finals-related in the next coming weeks.

Come to find out that May 15th is the deadline for the madrigal script. I'm still stuck at the beginning of scene six...I have an idea for it, and I know what it is...I just can't express it dramatically just yet. Just can't. I mean, how DO you go about having a combined "24" and "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" parody in one scene?

Reminder: May 16th is when "Apartment 9502" is read at Stoli. I have two more scenes to write on it...I wound up making it a three-act play (although it's fairly unbalanced...act one is 55 pages, act two 31, act three only 12 so far).

Okay, ta, Dingleberry Stewers!