No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2003-04-14 - 11:56 a.m.

worst entry ever

So Saturday, I got up and did Tai Chi. In the afternoon, eRoommate and I made the most interminable trip to the furniture store ever. Apparently finding an end table that is on clearance is a big job. Apparently locating said end table in the warehouse is a long and involved job. We drank vanilla coke and watched A Bug's Life.

Saturday night we all went out and I got plowed. I mean, just hammered. At the end of the night I was drinking Coors Light. That tells you how drunk I was. Ech.

Yesterday was a pick up rehearsal for our improv show. I'm really getting ready for that to be up and performing. It's been a great ride, but a year is just a little long to be doing the same thing.

Tomorrow I have an audition for another indy film. Wheee.


On Friday, I talked to Mom for a bit, and she asked me how I was feeling. I think she's worried about me. It was kind of a refreshing change from her usual pestering (from her perspective, showing well-meaning concern) about my joblessness.


This is the worst entry ever. I don't really feel like writing. I wish I could be more like Pamie with her incredible wit and her snarkiness and such. Instead it's just dispassionate lists of what I did and random crap. You're not seeing much in the way of the outgoing, funny dude I am with my friends. Honest, I'm cooler than this.


I think Mom was right. I'm not feeling too perky right now.

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