Why the End of the World

Approximately 74% of the people reading this already know the answer but I am going to chat about it anyway.   I am recently started a class at the Upright Citizens Brigade: The End of the World.   It is performing an improv form using the genre of the, well, end of the world. Apocalypses and post-apocalypses.  Alien invasions, viruses, zombies, doomsday weapons, time travel, distopias, reality altering drugs, clones, robots, Revelations, meteors, earthquakes, global warming, the sun dying, nuclear war, 2012, genetically altered animals, mutants, the Antichrist, and on and on.

If you know me at all, you know why I felt like this class was something I needed to participate in. Hell, I toyed with the idea of asking if I could be unpaid TA if I didn't get in the class.  The whole concept fascinates me.  It is both epic and personal, and usually slapped with a great big moral message. What also fascinates me is our (has a human race) fascination in it.  We just love  (and apparently always) be unable to not think about the end of it all.  How will we, has a race, meet our final demise?  With a bang or a whimper?  Usually it is our on hubris, especially since the start of the 20th century.  And that alone is a testament to our own hubris: We are very convinced  that our own ability to play god will be our own destruction.

Also it is just damn fun to do.  Seriously.  It is like an excuse to initiate all the crap that usually occurs to me.  Crazy scenarios, themes that hit you like a 2x4, the type of broad characters that I am nervous to break out in any other impov form.  I am like a kid in a candy shop.

Anywhozits, that is why I am using it to write short stories.  Apologies to Douglas Adams and the original conception of what eventually became Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  I will probably run out of steam at some point (heck, I am behind now).  If you have any suggestion, challenges, ideas, whatevers... feel free (read: I beg you) to post them in the comments.  I will do my best.

Not me.

I think the only reason I have "Christopher Scott" on Google Alerts is to make me sad.  It is just too common of a name.  90% of the results I get are Christopher Scott's arrested for drug dealing (usually meth).  Then there was the whole death row inmate thing from last year.

Today I have been getting a lot of results.  Because Christopher Scott was charged in Harrisburg, PA... charge in the death of a baby.

Sigh.

Post 1000

Yep.  1000 posts.  Crazy, huh?

I thought about a lot things I could do here in this post.  Writings something about how much I've changed (or not) since this blog started.  Or perhaps just get very personal.  Or a best of list.  

What would have been great would be to start posting the novel I wrote back then.  I almost did.  But I am rewriting it (again).  It is in a pretty good state but I am also going through and changing some names and such.  (For example, the dating site in the book is called "atwitter.com" which made sense three years ago... before people twitter.)

So I decided to write something new.  Totally new.  It is an old idea of mine that loots from a bunch of other old ideas I'd had.  I have no idea where it is going to go or how often I'll managed to add chapters.  But I am going to just try to write from the gut without thinking too much about it.

And no editing... so, yes, it is going to be rough.

I hope you enjoy it.

The Room to The Other Whens.

(Note:  I also re-organized my links.  Mostly to highlight my friend's stuff more.)

...like a little hug from God

"Bacon is like a little hug from God"

Today has been a little rough.  I'm still sick.  Like a child, I lost my wallet on the subway.  Like an adult, I made choice that was correct but meant missing out on something I was really enjoying.  And, since I lost my wallet, I couldn't go to Gravid Water and 2-Square at UCB.

I think I'm going to go buy some bacon.

(via Esty via design sponge via It's All About the Bacon)

One Man Show

One man (person, whatever) shows are all the rage now.  Well, that probably isn't true.  They are always being done.  Probably because (1) you can feature yourself and (2) don't have to worry about anyone else's schedule, ego, etc. and (3) a one person short one act feels "full" while a larger cast piece feels "slight."  Whatever the case is, I've been leaning more and more into writing for the stage.

The problem is that I haven't led an extremely interesting life.  Yes, yes.  I know there are those of you who are going to say "Pshaw, Chris!  Your life is interesting!  Everyone has something to say."  I have plenty to say, but let's be fair - I had a great childhood, I have a great family. I am white, financially comfortable and straight.  I haven't traveled tons and when I have it has always been safe.  I've never done more then dabble in narcotics before I discovered that besides occasional drinking, it wasn't for me.  I know a little about a lot of things.  I know coffee.  I know food.  I know science fiction and speculative fiction and story in general.  And god knows the word doesn't need another show about (1) acting, (2) writing, or (3) comedy.

So that leaves me at loose ends a bit.  But I have a few ideas.

• For a long time, I've been working on a one man piece about Philip K. Dick's nervous breakdown (or visions or whatever) of the mid 70s.  Great material and I love it but (1) I would be totally miscast in it and (2) it is only funny in parts.  It is dark and weird and emotional.  I just don't have a handy venue to pitch it to right now.

• Depression.  It's not like there aren't a ton of pieces about that, but I think it could be funny/sad.  I just don't know if I have the right angle on it yet.  I think I still need some distance on it.

• Sex.  Again, the world doesn't need tons more on this.  But I have had my share of relationships, stretching across the spectrum of possibilities.  I have tons of stories and thoughts.  Of course, it makes me a bit nervous.  (1) A whole show about "the women I've been involved with" could come off as bragging.  (I'd say it is a sign that it's a sign of my ability to form intense bonds and then not make the final step to fully give myself over to them but it is a fine line.) (2) I am uncomfortable putting my partners' lives up on stage.  Names can be changed and the chance of them actually seeing the show are slim, but I still am protective of those memories/lovers.  (3) If I am totally honest, I will come off as an ass.  Yes.  An ass.

Still, I think I may do it.

Hair

So I've been growing my hair out for awhile now. I've actually been pretty happy with it has my hair has mellowed since last time I grew it out (1989-90). It's hard to admit, but I like it when people comment on it, especially since it sort of does whatever it wants.

Waking up and looking in the mirror is always an adventure.  Since this is a side of me no one gets to see these days, I've been documenting it this week.  Here are a few of my morning, right after waking up.

Least attractive photo set ever.

Mothership Connection

INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Put your iPod or other music player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the NEXT button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
"I Don't Wanna," Patsy Cline

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
"Cotton Tail," Ella Fitzgerald

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
"Afro," Erykah Badu

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
"Ain't Yet," Battlestar

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
"Why Don't We Do It In The Road?" The Beatles

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
"Luck Be A Lady," Frank Sinatra

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN?
"Don't Go," Yaz

WHAT IS 2+2?
Sneakin' Out The Hospital," The Beastie Boys

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
"Nite Klub," The Specials

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
"Sit Down. Stand Up." Radiohead

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
"The Gates of Paradise," Gabriel Byrne

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
"My Last Pair Of Chucks," Lonesome Jack

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
"That Was Your Mother," Paul Simon

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
"I Will Come Back Again (Maybe I'll Come Back)," Marlene Dietrich

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
"No One Said It Would Be Easy," Sheryl Crow

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
"Black-Dove (January)," Tori Amos

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
"Monkey Man," The Specials

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
"Little Fury," The Breeders

WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
"Jesus Doesn't Want Me For A Sunbeam," Nirvana

HOW WILL YOU DIE?
"Still," Macy Gray

WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
"The Toy Trumpet," Raymond Scott

WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
"Hail Hail Spit n' Drool," The Hives

WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
"Wild Honey Pie," The Beatles

WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
"The Walk," The Cure

WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
"I Wanna Be Sedated," The Ramones

DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
"Oceans," Pearl Jam

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
"Been Caught Stealing," Jane's Addiction

WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
"Thought I Knew You," Matthew Sweet

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
"Mothership Connection," Parliament

Returning to My Other NYC, Ten Years Later: A Story of Roleplaying

As mentioned before, I was once involved in a massive and glorious World of Darkness roleplaying game campaign. (If the words “World of Darkness,” “roleplaying game” and “campaign” confuses and scares you, you might consider stopping now. This is a lengthy post (approaches essay or article length) and I'm not going to spend much time explaining things. I am going to assume you are a pen-and-paper rpg nerd. If it confused but intrigued you, continue reading. You might need to look things up on Wikipedia. Or roll your INT + Lore: Nerd vs a difficulty of 7.)

Let's start again.

As mentioned before, I was once involved in a massive and glorious World of Darkness roleplaying game campaign. It started shortly after White Wolf published Vampire: The Masquerade. Set in the here-and-now (just a here-and-now with vampire, werewolves, mages, ghost, faeries, etc. existing barely hidden from the eyes of “normals”), it was the ideal game to play as an Avatar campaign. “Avatar” campaign was a term someone coined for a game where you play yourself as your character. Since Vampire was the first game out, many people started out playing as Vampires. As Werewolf: The Apocalypse game out, some folks played themselves as werewolves (which I still think of as Garou).

Avatar campaigns have a lot of danger. You want to play yourself truthfully but also balance it with having fun. Sometimes you have to stretch “truth” for the game. This isn't always possible. For example, my first character was “Christopher Scott, newly embraced Sabbat vampire. I believe I decide to be from the Malkavian clan as being a little insane was the only way I could conceive of my self as a vamp. Turned out I could only envision myself as totally bat-shit psychotic. I had fun exploring what I would be as literally blood thirsty killer... but I wouldn't be able to survive long... nor was I interested it playing him for long. Less than four hours after making my character, he/I was dead.

In addition you can be placing a lot of yourself in the hand of the gamemaster. The World of Darkness is just that – dark. It is one thing to have your friend (the GM ) put your computer hack elf from a 2050 cyberpunk Seattle through the ringer. Having your friend delve into your own deepest fears and flaws is a whole other kettle of fish. World of Darkness has very adult themes and I gamed with people with insight, subtly and a touch of evil in their souls.

But they were also sensitive and smart and caring. Avatar campaigns can be hugely rewarding. On the simplest level, it is pure fantasy fulfillment. Turn into a nine foot tall wolfman and fight evil. It also lets you explore aspects of yourself you rarely get to, both idealized and dark. In a safe environment with good people who know you extremely well, the stories can be incredibly rich. It can be emotionally rewarding on a level that is very hard to achieve in a game where you are playing someone else.

We all played many characters beyond ourselves. And many of us GMed, often at the same time (not on the same night of course). Most often there were two or three stories happening on different nights. We had characters scattered across the globe in stories of horror and adventure and romance and politics. Amazingly, with all of that going on, it was rare we totally screwed continuity. (I eventually had to fix the appearance of a Christopher Scott vampire in Minneapolis who only lived for one night. My fix was a mater piece of convolution involving an ancient vamp with a eleven year old body, prophecy, a massive macabre performance art piece... and “clone.” Yes, clones.)

I didn't play myself again until shortly before Mage: The Ascension came out. If I was anything supernatural, it was a mage. Crafting magic. Knowledge of things best left unknown. Tomes. Just the would “tomes” makes me all atwitter. We had no idea what the game was going to be like (I seem to remember White Wolf being particularly closed lipped before release), but we ended up going with the traditional medieval European magic. Seemed like a safe bet.

Matt was the GM with me as the only player. Since Matt's werewolf character (Matt) was in New York, we set it there. He started from just before my move to Minneapolis. Instead of driving from L.A. to the Twin Cities, I, in a haze, drove into NYC. I forget exactly what happened but within hours of entering the city, I pissed off a pack of vamps (realize hat my character had no idea they existed). Trying to escape they chased me in my Nissan Sentra, straight into Central Park. The residents of the park were none too pleased. That was the first of many incidents caused by the alternate world Christopher Scott.

Son I was found by the ancient mage that would be my mentor. Slowly, I began to learn to be a magic user. I remember the first time in the game I created fire. It was just a candle flicker and yet it was thrilling in a way that seems insane when it is just two men telling a story sitting across from each other at a dining room table. But it was. Because it was me. The first time I cast fire in anger, casting a small flame (all that I was able to at the time) into the gas tank of a car. And I felt guilt and fear (and excitement).

The first “story” involved an ex-girlfriend from college (who was living in Minneapolis at the time and playing herself). She'd been made into a vampire and I was trying to save her. I was out of my league and it went somewhat poorly. Although I got her out, she was the first of many people I felt I failed (“I” being the alternate world me... it all gets very confusing). That ended up being a theme. Make of that what you will.

When Mage finally came out, we realized that (1) we did pretty good setting it up and (2) White Wolf had created something larger and richer than we could have predicted. It is a game HEAVY on meta-physics. The fight for reality itself. Balancing ones ego when you know you can (or one day could at least) do anything. It was an incredible world with fascinating ideas,. And extremely hard to balance. The themes were huge. Mat and I dived in. And (together, I like to think) created something special.

Christopher Scott, Order of Hermes mage went on to do many things over the years, most of which pissed someone off. Helping the Garou. Often Matt and I would, in our character, have lengthy metaphysical discussions. Trying to redeem a Nephandus. Being the reluctant leader of a house of teenager mages. The tragic and poetic death of Shane MacGowan. Saving the start of BH90210 by pretending to be David Austin Green. I married a Verbena and had a child. I remember the emotional impact when my mentor died. Friendships formed and friendships fell apart. I traveled to realms unimaginable. I found my self struggling against the stubbornness of the Council, trying to change millennium of thought.

I GMed a few games. The story of The Many, a old demon once given purview over shapeshifters (who was somehow connect to the Philadelphia Experiment), who eventually end up trapped in the body of a girl in the deep Umbra, only to be “rescued” by a vampire and a spaceship. (Man, that was a weird tale.) I ran Matt in his quest to cleanse his Black Spiral heritage (a very dark and personal idea) by re-raising the White Howler tribe. The last time I really gamed Christopher Scott in NYC was Gming Jake's vampire in a madhouse story involving the Technocracy, the first Artificers, a woman who was a key, faeries, complicated mechanical traps, terrorism and a nuclear bomb.

The stories went of for years. But life, real life happens. It became harder to find time to game, other interests intruded. Eventually, I moved to the real New York. I have no regrets about stopping gaming those characters. They were too powerful and too influential to play anymore. But their stories weren't done.

Ten years later, I have started to GM that NYC again. I fell into it a bit backyard and I hope I am crafting it in such away that will (1) not become a burden and (2) have some legs. New mages are Awaking in the streets of New York. Part of what intrigues me is that I get to see how I impact this made-up world. Coming back after all this time, the world has changed (both the real world and the alternate one). I am returning to the themes of the student and the mentor.

Ten years ago we spent a long time on this world. It is extremely deep and rich. Coming back and seeing others in it is fun. But last night was a bit special. Just an Order of Hermes mage explaining to an Awakening mage how reality works. And I was returned to the magic of those old game. Especially near the end of the night, when the player, excited and clearly involved in the world, let one world slip. That one word enabled me (in the character of the older mage) to react in a way that reflected some much of what I am trying to do. And seeing the player's response to that is what can make roleplaying so special.

I hope I can layer the emotions of all the players so that when I get them together their internal rich lives will come close to what I used to experience. I hope when they thing back on this game in ten years, they see the world in their memories, and not just us sitting in an apartment with pencils and dice.

Failing that, I'll settle for having them be entertained.

Time wasted

I really should be cleaning this afternoon but I'm not. Yet again, I find myself distracted by tiny projects. I do this fairly often. Luckily today as not been spent on the internet but I can't really say it was spent much better.

In other pointless news, my internal temperature seems to be all over the place. I have been either cold or hot all day. Never comfortable. What's up with that, body? Get with the program.

Speaking of my body, my hair is now beyond any control. I don't love it. I am slightly self-conscious about it and my gut reaction is to just shave it. But I promised myself I would let it grow until at least until Jan. 2009. Why? No reason beyond that I haven't grown it out in eons. I know that people will give my shit about it for months to come. But I will refuse to listen.

I can still tame it for short periods of time with lots of gel... but then I sweat and gel drips on my forehead and re-dries and I end up with a crust of shiny right above my eyebrows. That is just not attractive.

I had a very intense dream right after I fell asleep last night. How do I now when it happened? Because I went to sleep at 1am and woke up at 2am. I should have written down the details right then because I remember the dream being awesome but now the details have all drifted away. That's weird when you think about it. 14 hours ago I woke up thinking "Wow! That was amazing! What an experience!" Now it is all gone. Silly brain.

It might be the hair.

Del Close Marathon - Thank You, Robot!

More pictures of me. The full set can be seen here along with tons of great photos from Del Far. 35 shows worth. Monsterous!

My monologue during the opening. A touching moment. See, Jeremy is mocking me with fake tears in the back.

I think I may be chastising John Robert for making his attacking baby masturbate. Love those neck vanes.

All of my detectives smoke Sherlock Holmes-style pipes.

Me and my Christian sock puppet. I can't tel if Del Close is looking approvingly or thinking "Oh god. All my work led to this?" Matt looks amused at least.

Del Close Marathon - Veal!

I have tons of thoughts which will filter out in posts over the next few weeks. I'm still processing.

But until then pictures of me performing with Veal. There are too many good photos by Del Far over on Flickr to post them all. (Thank you so much, Del Far. You rock my socks.) Go look at your conveince. Right now here are some of my favorites of me.

Me trying to decide whether or not to get it on with the dangerous hot girl.

I swear it looks like we're doing Grease here.

I am convinced we are doing Grease.

From our group game. Andy is such a joy to match. Also Ashley loks like an angel on the left and on the right we have Frank. Man, I love Frank.

Me realizing sex is messy and icky. Not my best move ever. Kristen is so fun to play with because I know she's on board for anything. And her characters crack me up.

See? Sex is icky.

Doug and I re-enact Apollo 13. I bet I would work in an Apollo 13 reference in every show I did if I could.

This photo is actually out of order. It was from our opening. This is improv to me. Support, trust, surprise.

And it makes me feel like Jesus Christ Superstar.

Things I like

• Strawberries.
• People singing Christmas songs just for me in July.
• Bubbles.
• Tug boats.

Unrelated: I am doing karaoke on Wednesday for the first since I started doing musical improv. I am hoping my general fear of singing in front of people will carry over to singing real songs in a bar. I think I will sing Under Pressure. Man, I love that song.

Hey, Look

I fixed the damn banner. Got it to fit and cut off my lips. You don't really need to see my lips. That just seems excessive.

I also changed the subtitle (again). Originally it had been "Can I get a sherpa for all of my baggage?" I liked it when I had baggage I was carrying around (and the word "sherpa" is funny), but most of my baggage as been sorted through, boxed up and stuck into storage so that I can can lay in on my kids if I ever have them. Then it was "An infinite pile of crap is still just crap" which originally sounded like a wry commentary of the internet and mass media. But then I realized that it sounded exactly like the standard crap commentary on the internet and mass media. I usually write or post things that make me happy and make the world interesting. Which led to the sappy "Beauty is in the pauses." I still agree with that, but combined with my cutesy picture made me just want to post pictures of kittens. And while I get joy from pictures of kittens, it was all just a bit too dear.

So I settled on "or: How I Procrastinate" which is just accurate.

If you wish to see why it is called Twang of the Void, read the first ever post. You can also tell I had baggage back then.

(I thought about "A fat kid, an albino, an Unitarian and a manta ray walk into a bar..." but couldn't get it to fit on the banner.)

Change

They switched the panhandler at my subway entrance. I wish they'd asked me. Don't we get to vote on this sort of thing? I'm furious.

I liked the old one. I spent months developing a rhythm and a relationship with him. Sometimes I'd give him money, sometimes not. It was cool. When I did I received a nice smile and maybe a "God Bless." When I didn't, he'd swear at me under his breath. We knew what the expect from each other. Now I have to start all over with this new guy.

The old one had an eye patch and weird teeth. He reminded my of a pirate. This new guy just appears to be over weight. What sort of eccentric character is that? And I don't like the way he asks for money. It's just a repetitive sing-songy "Please, can you help me out? Please. Please, can you help me out?" It's whiny and cliché. I mean, it sounds like begging. Eye Patch had a deep earthy voice, a baritone, and an ever shifty patter of blessings, observations and occasional swearing. He also tailored his pitch to each of us. His perceptiveness zeroed in on each of are quirks and personalities and he called it like he saw it. He always called me "Skinny White Boy" which is so dead on.

This new guy just seems to be going through the motions. I just don't know what the city is coming to.

(Honestly, I hope Eye Patch is okay.)

Christopher Scott Emmett

Last night at 9:07pm (two hours before I took the stage to perform musical improv), Christopher Scott Emmett was pronounced dead. Convicted of the April 2001 killing of his co-worker (murdered him in his sleep for his wallet), Emmett was sentenced to death by lethal injection. After the standard lengthy appeals, last night it was carried out.

Why have I followed this whole thing so carefully? Because he kept popping up in my Google Alerts because I am vain and Google Alert myself.. It is a strange thing to follow almost daily the progress of your name steadily towards death by the state. Yes, he has an extra last name but still it is disturbing to read

"Christopher Scott Emmett, who had been sentenced to death for the April 2001 murder of John Fenton Langley, 43, was executed at Greensville Correctional Center in Jarratt, Virginia, said Department of Corrections spokesman Larry Traylor."

I don't want to go on a whole capital punishment thing here – even though go knows I've been thinking about it a lot this week. I think it is wrong, etc.. I also understand the appeal, etc.. Christopher's final appeals were based on lethal injection being cruel and inhumane. I don't know about that. Putting someone to death is pretty cruel and inhumane. Once we have decided that, yes, we are going to execute people, I am kind of the mind that you shouldn't try to sugar coat it and hide it. Seriously, how many people (who haven't listened to me talk about this for the last two weeks) knew that Virginia killed a man last night? Televise it or something. Not as specticle but as facing up to it. "So, we all voted that we are going to take a man's life. We should witness what it is like." Of course, it would become specticle. Somehow humans always turn things into The Running Man. (I've been reading about pirates and Shakespeare and the broad time period between 1500 and 1800 lately. It makes me think we are actually genetically geared towards watching reality television.)

I've been joking about this whole thing a lot in the last week. Because that's how I deal with uncomfortable topics. I think I have offended (or at least disturbed) some of my friends. I was some pleased with Christopher's last words though:

"Tell my family and friends I love them. Tell the governor he just lost my vote. You all hurry this along, I'm dying to get out of here."

Okay, not the most original material but I appreciate the effort.

So much to see, so little time

This is going to be one of those weeks. Actually, I never have anything BUT one of those weeks lately.

Tuesday, July 22nd. 11:00pm.
Hot Sauce / The Brothers Hines at Upright Citizens Brigade.
Two shows, five of my favorite performers. Both teams are just, well, fun. A crap load of fun. Weird, crazy, kinetic. Intelligent and silly. Fast and slow. Hard and touching. Okay, I have now actually described a one night stand I had two years ago. This show won't leave you feeling dirty and make you break out in hives.

Wednesday, July 23rd. 9:30pm.
The Spin / As The Diamond Burns at Upright Citizens Brigade.
The Spin is a daring show that explores a current event in the news. And two of my teammates/friends/favorite people are in it. If you listen to NPR or read the paper or at all give a crap about the world, see it. Because the world is funny.
As The Diamond Burns is an improvised soap opera. Another of my teammates/friends/favorite people is in it. "Sublimely ridiculous" would be my quote in Soap Digest about this show.

Thursday, July 24th. 11:00pm.
Veal vs. Death By Roo Roo in CageMatch at Upright Citizens Brigade.
In case you didn't know yet, CageMatch pits two improv teams against each other. Each team gets 25 minutes. The audience votes. The winner comes back next week. Veal is my musical improv team and I adore them. This is a big night for us. Big audience, big(ger) stage, bigger stakes. Death By Roo Roo has been on an absolute tear lately. 10 victories. They have been doing amazing work in CageMatch. So Veal could use all the support we can muster.

Friday, July 25th.
God willing, nothing related to improv... and certainly not at UCB. No offense, UCB. But in less than 3 weeks, I'll be spending WAY too much time with you. I think it is okay if I don't see you on Friday of this week.

Saturday, July 26th.
Class/practice... then at...
7:30.
I Eat Pandas at Upright Citizens Brigade.
Ah yes. IEP is like being whisked away on a candy cloud to a land of broken glass castles. I'm not saying it is all sweetness and things you can cut your feet on. Words fail me sometime. Let's try, "Two person musical improv of the highest/most fun order. Yum."
Then, later, a party.

Sunday, July 27th. 5:30pm.
Musical Improv 201 Class Show at Upright Citizens Brigade.
My class show for my musical improv class. Should be a total hoot in your snoot. Sadly, I won't be hanging out afterwards because I have to run to a class at 6:30pm.

Monday, July 28th. 8:00pm.
Gravid Water at Upright Citizens Brigade.
I've pimped this before. It is still one of my all time favorite shows. So I shall continue to push it on all of you until you finally go see it. Stephen Ruddy keeps presenting it as an "experiment." I'm not sure when experiment stops being an experiment and you can call it a success. I suppose all improv is an experiment. Maybe all art is. Maybe I just need more coffee.
11:00.
Farebeater/Improv Verté at Upright Citizens Brigade.
Farebeater starts by talking to a real NYC cabbie and then improving scenes from that. All of the scenes take place in taxis. It might sounds claustrophobic, but it actually shows how much can be explored when you give yourself restrictions. And my friend is in it.
Improv Verté is an improvised documentary. Because real life is funny, damn it. More friends in this one.

Note to friends: Please stop being in shows that I want to see. Of some of you would please start doing some crap, it would make my life easier.

EDIT: Actually, I probably won't be at Gravid Water. I'll be at another event. More details when I have them.

Looks

For some reason I can't quite peg, I've been getting compliments about my looks lately. Nothing major, just little things. (Except for Rob who said I was looking skinnier...if anything I've put on some needed weight). I'm not great about accepting compliments. My overly logical mind that believes everything needs a qualifier doesn't help. "There is no black or white, only gray." I'm trying to get better at it, learning to just say "thank you."

I'm not 100% sure what has changed about me. Someone mentioned that I wear shirts that are to big for me so I've been trying to wear shirts that fit. Problem is that I have a lot of shirts that ARE too big, so my choices are limited. I have 3 plain black t's that fit well... but then I worry that every time people see me they think I'm wearing the same darn shirt. But I do get complimented when in those black t's. Odd that.

I've always been self-conscious about my stick figure of a physique. I've dressed it it in larger clothes in an attempt to cover up. That of course just makes me look like a scarecrow.

People seem to like the hair. I know that my hair is at this magical period right now where it looks good. Actually it just passed through it. Now, I can tame it with gel but that won't last much longer. Soon it will be become un-containable, like a cloud of toxic gas pouring from a Union Carbide explosion. But my curiosity about what it will look like is too hard to pass up.

I could (and will) go in the get the sides and back trimmed, but I don't think people quite realize the complexity of the entity that is my hair. In all my years I have had ONE (and only one) barber and/or stylist that has been able to really do anything with it. He worked up in Westchester, NY. It even took him two months to figure my hair out. You see, at a certain point it passes into non-Euclidean geometry. Parallel lines that meet. Curves that are also angles. Three points that don't form a triangle or a straight line. So I have little hope.

But it has been nice to be complimented. In general, boys don't get complimented about their looks. When we do, it is often delivered with an unintentional tone of surprise. "Hey, you actually look nice today!"

Of course there are things about my aging body people don't see. Like The One Hair. I have always been bare chested (something I'm grateful for). But in the last six months The One Hair arrived. Every two weeks it grows, in the center of my chest, like a lone tree growing on a bared desert plane. I'll feel it before I see it. I'll rub my hand across to chest and feel it. Then I must wait a week until it grows enough to get purchase with the tweezers. Defiantly, it seems to have the ability to dodge my attempts at removal and it turns into 15 minutes of me swearing at the mirror as I play a reverse miniature version of grabbing a stuffed frog with a robotic crane.

It is hard to feel attractive after moments like that.

Science of Crushes. Pt 4.

I have all of these "qualifications," this checklist I run through whenever I first feel something that resembles "attraction":
• Past the mid-twenties, not too deep into the mid-forties.
• Smart.
• Make's me laugh.
• Opinionated.
• Not moralistic/dogmatic.
• Working towards something.
• Reads.
• Quirky in some way (which should be everyone... but isn't).
• Cute smile.
• Both outgoing and bashful.
• Single.
• Female.
• Likes boys.
• Etc, etc.
Another problem comes when ANYONE actually matches this list. My immediate response is "Hell! I should be interested in them!" This sometimes ignores whether or not I actually like the person. Perhaps because I so rarely develop crushes (although I actually do enjoy having them), I jump at the opportunity. But, early on, I realize that my pseudo-crush is just based on The List. So I start to doubt it. Then I wonder if my doubt is doubt just because I think I should doubt it.

I think too much, that much is clear.

I certainly miss the days I would like someone for months, we'd both get drunk, she (out of frustration of me just staring at her all the time and not doing anything about it) announces that I'm being stupid, I kiss them and all is dandy. Ah, those were the days.

Apology By Default

Can we just assume that we are sorry? The subway and platforms are packed with people. Everyone is pushing up against everyone. If we each said "I'm sorry" every time we had some incidental physical contact, the air would be a cacophonous chorus of apologies. So don't give me that look. Besides, you have your legs stick out into the car and are lugging around a bag the size of a medium sized refrigerator. And are fat. Yeah, yeah. I shouldn't be all high and mighty about the fact that I occupy the volume of a bendy-straw. But when I sit I only use 7/8th of a seat... and even then I make an effort to collapse into as small a space as possible. I'm not saying it's your fault you have to use two turnstiles to even get into the subway, but at least try to share. And if not that, don't get upset when I am dragged into your gravitation pull and my shoe brushes up against your shoe.

More of Me

I was just updating my photos on a dating website. God knows why. I never use it. I just like having it out there. Makes me feel like I'm at least making an effort to meet people. Anywhozits, I was looking at my profile that I wrote a year plus ago. It's still a relatively accurate description of me. And, if I do say so myself, I think it's a pretty good dating websie profile. Seriously, have you ever read those things? 99% of them are Snoresville. The Coma District in Snoresville.

My self-summary

Just sit right back and hear a tale...

Let's look at a typical day. Alarm goes off and I have to twist myself out of the sheets and knock over a stack of books to hit the snooze button as NPR wakes me from a dream that probably resembled Dali's never filmed Disney projects. By the third time the alarm goes off, I am ready to move. Turn on NPR in the bathroom while I brush my teeth. Down to the kitchen. Radio on. Coffee. Must make coffee. Full pot. If I'm feeling ambitious, I'll make an omelet (maybe veggie sausage or maybe bacon... I swing both ways). If I'm not ambitious that morning, cereal (Cheerios, as if you care). While eating, listening to the news, the laptop is out. Bit of a blog junky, mainly others, but I need to write at least one entry a day in my own (except when I neglect it for months, like right now). Why do I do that? Blog, that is.

Interesting topic, that. Perhaps I'll blog about it.

Take coffee upstairs and try to get some writing done. Maybe it is freelance work. Hopefully it is my own.

Answer emails. Assorted projects. Have some theater projects I have to keep floating. Work? Damn, work. If it is a writing gig, fine. Carpentry when I have to.

In the afternoon, work on a board game design. Maybe play with the Lego bricks. Make more notes for the novels. Mail's here? Anything from Netflix? I don't even know what is at the top of my list since it is 400+ long. Off to improv practice. Or maybe to just watch some. Maybe performing. Or some other theater.

Usually followed by cold kicking it (like we used to say in the '90s) with folks at a bar.

Back home, late. Snack, drink some herbal tea (or lots of water if I've been drinking). Most likely read or catch something on the DVR. Maybe write until dawn.

Look, I can't be summarized. Nor can you.

What I'm doing with my life

Rebuilding, to be 100% honest. Not that it is in shambles, but it took a long path that ended up not being where I wanted it to be. So, while it sounds nice and flaky like a perfectly made Hot Pocket, I am rediscovering Art.

I like to make up words. I like games, but not Games. Man, I could go for a game of cribbage. Or Go.

I'll admit that I applied to be on Survivor and wouldn't mind being on Amazing Race. Not a dream. But if you think TV is horrible and has no value, look the other way.

On the other hand, if the idea of spending all day at museums makes you sick, look the other way.

But none of that actually answers what I am doing. I write for a living. I'm just not writing what I want to be writing. Well, actually I am writing what I want to be writing, just haven't been paid for much of that yet. But I have a plan. Actually I have four plans. None of them are going to make me rich very quick, but they keep me comfortable and happy and always push for more.

But I do lots of stuff. Build stuff, make things, cook other stuff, and hope I can get at least one person a day to laugh.

I'm really good at

Thinking of things. Making board games. Charming other folks' parents. Moments of whimsy. Writing a lot of words in a short amount of time (none of them will be good, but there will be a lot of them). Random useless trivia. Making up elaborate theories. Cooking from cookbooks. Talking about just about anything (with sincerity). Wasting time. Writing emails. Making up stuff. Playing with 2 to 9 year olds. Entertaining myself.

What I'm not good at? Spelling.

The first thing(s) people usually notice about me

That I'm skinny. I have a good skull when I shave my head. Laugh lines around the eyes. Slight awkwardness.

It's not the first thing they notice because they would have to know me first but my age and how I don't look it. Or act it, I suppose.

If you saw me at a bar, you might notice me trying to steal looks at you. When you look at me I might look away... but give me one second. I'll turn back and then try to hold your gaze. I might smile or I might try to look all serious (which I am really not that good at).

On the subway you'd notice my nose in a book or in a notebook... or maybe bopping along to random music on my iPod. I like dancing in the subway. Small dances. Nothing fancy.

My favorite (A) books, (B) movies, (C) music, and (D) food

Oh I hate making these lists, but I shall try:

(A) Neal Stephenson's Baroque Cycle, One Hundred Years of Solitude, James Ellroy's L.A. saga, Infinite Jest, Let the Dog Drive, Man in the High Castle, Geek Love, Neil Gaiman, most of Shakespeare (except Twelve Night), Godel Escher Bach, and many many others that will come to me later.

(B) Oldboy, Alien, Apocalypse Now, The Apartment, Better Off Dead, Big Night, Brazil, City of Lost Children, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Fight Club, Pixar's work, Hero, Kubrick, Rosemary's Baby, Rushmore, Singing in the Rain, Spirited Away, The Thing, Tremors, Science of Sleep, Good Luck/Good Night, Pan's Labyrinth, Old Country for Old Men (heck, almost all the Cohen Brothers' work). (What a horrible list. Very inadequate. I just don't even know how to work on this list.)

(C) It completely depends on the day. I like finding new local bands. I am not a huge music person. I know, I know. I don't understand it either. I like music. I love music. I just don't pay that much attention to it. I mean, I have an iPod with an insane amount of stuff on it, but half the time I am listening to assorted podcasts and such. And when I do listen to music, I often just hit random and skip until I hit something that suits my mood.

(D) Oh, how I love food. I will try literally anything that at least one culture considers food (except 'long pig') and I will try it at least three times before I make my final judgment. If I had to pick it would be the cliché of sushi. But my tastes go from the $1 hot dog to the $300 meal (not that I have had all that many of those). I like healthy food. I like a pint of good ice cream or a pint of stout. I am an omnivore.

And cheeses of all sorts. Man, how I enjoy good cheese. It's kind of wrong how much I like it. Yes, I would marry cheese if I could.

The six things I could never do without

At least a pen and paper.

Humor.

Books.

The subway.

Family.

And, sadly, the internet. Sigh.

I spend a lot of time thinking about

Writing. What makes "Funny" funny. (You know what doesn't make "Funny" funny? Thinking about it.) Why the world is great and why it blows. How to make it better, one tiny moment at a time.

How to make online dating profiles not seem pretentious. The fact that my spelling is horrible and why I keep forgetting to run spell checks on these damn text fields.

I think about play. Game play, sex play, theater plays, the play of the light across a piece of trash. Whatever.

A good portion of my day is spent with my head in other worlds. That sounds so flaky but that's what you get with me. I like talking about them. That is either going to be a big plus to you or a big negative. Ah well.
On a typical Friday night I am

At the theater with friends and colleagues. Or nose deep in the laptop, writing. Or maybe at the bar. Or making plans. Devious plans. Plans I can't talk about it. But you'll see. You'll ALL see....

I don't have "typical" Friday nights. The time I start having "typical" Friday nights, drag me out back a shoot me. No wait! Don't do that. Just slap me around a bit.
The most private thing I'm willing to admit here

I can be hugely shy and passive at times. I often need a bit of encouragement to make the first move. However, I have begun to discover the inner "aggressor" as of late. Not sure why. I have used the word "prowl" three times in the last week. I'm not sure that is a good thing or not.

Oh, and I was a founding member of Team C.O.B.R.A.. Google "Idiotarod New York."

You should message me if

If you have opinions about things but are willing to listen to the opinions of others. If you are not embarrassed to be silly. If you are open and honest about where you are and what you want from a friendship, a relationship, a Relationship with a capital R, or a relationship with a wink wink nudge nudge. (Not that you have to know. Just know that you don't know.) If you like trying new things. If you make adventure where you find it.

I do good email. Really. I enjoy writing. I don't like phones, but I like writing long emails. Seriously.

In addition, I've lately been feeling a touch passive about sending the first contact message. Oh, I'll respond like a viking! I'm just saying that I may very well have looked at your profile and thought "Hey, they seem pretty darn intriguing" and then gone back to eating my Hot Pocket. Just sayin'.