Project Update

I’ve been lax in keeping up with my character blogs and my story. Life keeps getting in the way. Mind you, I’m not complaining. It’s nice to be busy, to be out doing stuff, having fun, not constantly living vicariously through my characters. However, as a result, the characters’ lives have been slightly on hold.

I aim to rectify that right soon. I’m gonna set some time aside this weekend to update blogs. The project’s just getting so big that it’s harder and harder to maintain. And readers are noticing when updates are late—which is very cool. It means that people are into the blogs. Plus it gives me motivation to keep things current (I hate to disappoint my fans…).

The overall response to the online project has been rather positive, which makes me feel good. It is by no means perfect, but so far people seem entertained (and not just my friends, either). All I can say for now is that things are going to get even better in the near future, as a couple more characters gain prominence and the story expands to include more subplots. Also, as a fun side note, some friends have volunteered their images to be used as characters, so the match.com and friendster accounts, the yahoo profiles, the blogs, etc. will have some pictures soon!

Now the only other thing for me to focus on is spreading the word about the online projects to others. This is where you come in. If you’re digging the project, pass it on to your friends to read. If you think it kinda sucks, pass it on to your friends so y’all can bag on it. Either way, just pass it on…

Friend or Faux

So according to my friends, I have become the king of the “faux” date. Allow me to explain the faux date for those not in the know:

The faux date is when you take out someone as a friend. There is generally no physical interaction (i.e. kissing, sex, etc), but you do wind up paying for the date. Essentially, the point of the faux date is simply to enjoy someone else’s company, knowing full well that the odds of it leading to anything more than that are very slim.

I apparently have the faux date down to a science. However, I’m undecided as to whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, I enjoy the faux dates–I always seem to have fun, and obviously I’m not obligated to do them so I must like them. Still, there’s a certain degree of dissatisfaction to the faux date that leaves me cold.

Most people cite the lack of sex/sexual activity as the problem. This is a knee-jerk reaction for most people, as if sex is the ultimate goal of dating someone. It’s a fallacy. The lack of sex isn’t the problem. Strangely (and sadly), not getting sex is something that isn’t bothering me. What bothers me is the lack of romance. In the faux date, you can muster up some flirting, but bona fide romance is a no-no. Usually, your date will become instantly uncomfortable if you go with the overt romantic move (flowers, candlelight dinner, etc).

Since I’ve decided that a little romance might be what’s missing in my life, the faux date isn’t filling the void as much as it used to. This doesn’t mean I’ll stop doing them; I just realize that I need to be on the lookout for something more. The problem, of course, is that it’s difficult to find the right person to be something more. I meet plenty of attractive, nice women–but that’s not enough. I need someone smart, someone funny, someone genuinely interesting. They’re not easy to come by, and on the extremely rare occasion that I’ve met one, it hasn’t worked out. C’est la vie, I reckon...

Fortunately for you all, it gives me more time to work on my blogs. At least my characters have some romance in their lives...

What--No Green Eggs?

How come everybody makes ham on Easter? Is it just to thumb noses at the Jews?

What's So Good About It, Anyway?

So it’s Good Friday (for those heathens out there, Good Friday is the day Christ was crucified before supposedly rising from the dead three days later on Easter). Apparently I am the only person I know who has to work the entire day today. Indeed, I actually have to work late. Everyone else seems to either have the day off or is getting off early. My friends keep calling me: “Hey, what are you doing?” I’m at work, damn it. What are you doing? Mocking me?

It would appear that Christ died not only for our sins, but also so we could get a half-day before the Easter weekend. I guess I’m the heathen, then, since I didn’t get the half-day.

The Ring 2

Saw The Ring 2 last night, and I’ll give it the typical sequel review: not as good as the first one.

There’s a lot to like about this movie. There’s good imagery, a lot of which ties it to the first film (so hopefully you’ve seen the first film, or you might feel a little lost). Also, the director uses a lot of clever camera angles and tracking shots, giving a bit of a fresh look to the film (this was mostly evident in the beginning of the film, and seemed to regress into standard shots later on). And, of course, Naomi Watts is typically good.

The main problem with the film is that it lacks a sense of urgency. In the first Ring, Naomi had seven days to figure out how to beat the evil videotape before she died (wow, the movie sounds really stupid when you sum it up like that). In this one, there wasn’t the same sense of impending dread. I didn’t really feel like Naomi had a time constraint in saving the day, and the lack of tension was noticeable.

Also, the evil Samara just isn’t really scary anymore. We’ve seen her too much. It’s like Jason or Freddy or Michael Myers–after a while, their image alone isn’t frightening enough. Oh, and seeing her crawl up the well? Sure, it’s cool and creepy, but if bitch could crawl like that then why couldn’t she have just gotten out of the goddamn well in the first place?

The Ring 2, unlike the first Ring, does not follow its Japanese counterpart. It’s a shame, because the Japanese Ring 2 is actually almost as good as the first one. Mind you, this one is pretty good–it’s got scares and a decent plot. It just isn’t an amazing film, and you could probably wait for the dvd.

No Smoking

Is it just me, or are smokers disappearing? It seems that almost everyone I know doesn’t smoke, and many of the smokers I do know are quitting (or at least trying to quit). Hell, even my characters don’t smoke or are trying to quit. What the hell?

Has the LA ban on smoking in public establishments really been this effective? Are people not smoking because it’s just so damn inconvenient? I mean, let’s face it, with the weather we’ve been having lately, who wants to go outside for a smoke?

I refuse to believe that those anti-smoking PSAs where a bunch of activists storm the tobacco company are really having this much of an effect. I just don’t buy it. Maybe cigarettes are just too expensive now. But gas is expensive too, and I don’t know anybody taking the bus...

It all sucks, because I just got my cool Zippo lighter fixed, and there are no more cute smokers to light cigarettes for...

Fortune Cookie

Do you ever get the feeling that Chinese fortune cookies are mocking you? Here’s my fortune from today’s lunch: “This is a prosperous time in life for you.” Now, not to put too fine a point on it, but I am not feeling all that prosperous lately. In fact, quite the contrary–money’s tight.

I get this a lot–Chinese fortune cookies that not only don’t seem right, but actually seem antagonistic. It’s like they’re written by my ex or something. On occasion I’ll get a good one, but even then it feels hollow and empty. Case in point–here’s one I got a while back: “Good things will come to you in due time.” Let me repeat: I got this one a while back. I’m still waiting for the good things to come.

Here’s another: “Luck will be yours when you least expect it.” This sucks, because the fortune has just made me expect it. Now it won’t come. It’s a self-defeating fortune.

Wouldn’t you prefer more realistic fortunes? I think I’d appreciate the honesty of something like: “Life’s a bitch–go have a beer,” or “She’s just not that into you, sorry.”

Proud Mary

Something funny happened last night. Funny or disturbing, actually, depending on how you look at it. So I’m at the bar with some friends from work, listening to people sing karaoke. This cute blonde girl that I’ve never seen there before steps up and does an amazing rendition of “Proud Mary.” The crowd loves it. I love it. I’m instantly drawn to her.

She’s got a girl-next-door look to her, which makes her rather approachable. My friend Mad and I wind up chatting with her a little bit, mostly just telling her how impressed we were with her singing.

A little later on, she catches me looking at her and smiles. I smile back. Suddenly, I realize I might be “in there.” Realize for a moment that, contrary to common belief, I am not a pickup artist. I have no bar game. At all. I have never been able to do this, and have never really put much work into trying. Still, this situation seems tailor-made...a sure thing, if you will.

I chat with her a couple of times. She tells me her name, I crack a few jokes. We keep touching each other; it’s very flirty. I decide to ask for her number, even though she says she’s gonna keep coming to the bar (I’m well aware of how bad an idea it is to leave things to chance). However, when I go to ask for the number, I put my arm around her, lean in to whisper some silly come-on in her ear, and at the moment of truth–I hesitate.

For some reason, instead of asking for her number, I wind up saying goodnight. I don’t know if it’s because of all the other guys flirting with her (I hate competition) or if I’m suddenly nervous (unlikely, especially at that point), but for whatever reason I decide not to ask for the number. I figure it’s okay; I can always ask her the next time I see her.

I find out later that evening from Mad that apparently the girl and I play on the same team. Yes, she is a self-admitted lesbian (apparently she likes Latin girls). I’m actually stunned, because I have never hit on a lesbian without knowing she was a lesbian. It’s just never happened before. It’s not like I have flawless gaydar, but I usually am able to pick up on these things. And even if I don’t, I don’t usually mistake that a girl is into me when she’s not. I second-guess things too much for that.

So now, the next time I see her, instead of asking for her number, I plan to ask what she thought of last week’s episode of The L Word...

Exorcist: The Beginning

Got Exorcist: The Beginning on dvd this week. Many people hated this movie, but I actually liked it. Let me be clear–in no way does it compare to the original, which I feel still stands as the scariest movie ever. But I liked this one. I liked the clever nods to the original (so long as you don’t get too hung up on how a lot of the images that are repeated should have greater meaning in the original if Father Merrin saw them in the past), and I liked hearing the devil’s voice again.

By no means is it a perfect film, but it’s way better than the shitty Exorcist 2: The Heretic, and in my opinion is even better than the decent Exorcist III. Stellan Skarsgard makes a great young Merrin (although I’d have loved to have seen what Liam Neeson would’ve brought to the role). Izabella Scorupco is overrated as a beauty, but she does okay work here.

The real interesting thing is that the Renny Harlin version in theaters was actually a redone version of the Paul Schrader version. Originally, Schrader was the director. He turned in a version that the studio thought was too psychological, and not scary/gory enough. So they had Harlin come in. Harlin completely redid the film, cutting certain characters and replacing them with others. Supposedly something like 2 minutes of the original film was used in Harlin’s version. But the money-grubbing studio, quick to make a buck, will be releasing Schraeder’s version on dvd. I’m quite curious to see it and compare...

Valet

I hate valets. I just hate them. It’s nothing personal. It’s not even like there was any trauma that has made me hate them. I just do. I can’t stand letting someone else drive my car. I never let my ex drive my car, so why am I gonna just hand my keys over to some jackass minimum wage employee in a red jacket?

That’s another thing: I hate giving away my keys to the valet. It’s just weird for me to not have my keys on me. I’ve recently battled this by taking off the car key and keeping my other keys, but it still bothers me.

I discussed this recently with some girlfriends. They were saying that when a guy takes them out and doesn’t valet, they just think he’s cheap. I’m not cheap (well, I am, but not in this case). I don’t give a damn about the valet cost. I just don’t want to give them my keys and let them drive my car. I want to park it myself. I want to be able to leave without having to wait for my car.

My friend says this fear comes from Ferris Bueller's Day Off. You know the scene where the valets take the Ferrari out for a joyride? That’s my nightmare. Granted, I drive a Saturn, but still...

Ladies seem to love valet, though. When you’re on a date, you’ve just got to suck it up and valet, because your date wants to feel important enough to be catered to in such a way. She doesn’t feel important when she’s trudging along an uneven sidewalk in four-inch heels for three blocks.

Also, I was informed that when a woman meets a man for a date (say a first date, or especially a blind date), they love valet because it precludes any awkward goodbye moment. Their car arrives, and they have to go. The guy doesn’t get a chance to plan his kiss/hug/handshake/whatever. Very clever, ladies.

Breakfast Buffet

A friend of mine took me to a church social tonight. She told me that it’s a great place to meet women, as there are many more women than men there and that many of the men are gay. She was true to her word—there must’ve been four girls for every boy, and twelve girls for every straight boy.

I get comfortable early, realizing that I’m in a target-rich environment and that the odds are in my favour. An attractive blonde starts chatting me up, and while she’s nice enough and pretty enough, I’m not all that interested. There are just too many other attractive women around. I liken it to the buffet in Las Vegas—you don’t sit there eating the chicken when there’s all that shrimp there!

But a funny thing happened while I was talking to the one girl. Most of the other women left. En mass. It was weird—one minute I’m in a sea of estrogen, the next minute I’m at a weenie roast. Not all the girls left, but the happy ratio I witnessed when I first arrived had changed dramatically, and not for the best. I didn’t even know what had happened.

My friend told me that many of the women here come to the socials, see that it’s the same people as always, and then leave early. She wasn’t joking. A little over an hour into the soiree, the party had pretty much flamed out.

Another friend of mine jumped onto my buffet analogy, explaining that it’s the breakfast buffet. You gotta get there early, and you gotta grab what you want fast before it runs out. If I do one of these church socials again, I’ll have to keep that in mind.

Bait-and-Switch

There’s nothing I hate more than the bait-and-switch. You know what I’m talking about—when you’re expecting one thing, and then given another. For example, today I was supposed to join my parents for a movie. While on my way to the theater, I get a call from my mother telling me there’s been a change in plans and asking me to come to their house. Instead of a movie day, I get a day of moving furniture and steam cleaning couches. Bait-and-switch.

The bait-and-switch is worst in the dating world. Nothing sucks more than when you think you’re going out for a romantic evening and instead you find that you’re hanging out with a group of friends. Actually there is something worse—when you are interested in someone, and they seem interested back, and then they try to set you up with their friend. Bait-and-switch.

So this is my explanation of why you’re getting a rant instead of a movie review. I didn’t get to the movies this weekend. I got a few DVDs, but haven’t had a chance to watch any of them since I was too busy doing manual labour. So, no movie review—just me bitching.

Bait-and-switch.

Damn Dirty Apes

It seems that someone took my monkey post to heart:

http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/03/04/chimp.attack.ap/index.html

Yes, yes...I realize that chimps are not monkeys. But they’re close enough, and they attacked that guy almost as if being ordered to do so... At least, I hope someone’s controlling them. Otherwise, what we have is a Planet of the Apes type situation. That’s way scarier...

“Damn you all to hell!!!!”