is it me, or does life just get funnier everyday?

Technology

I feel like even though I've grown up in a generation of tech-savvy people, and I'm constantly surrounded by new innovative technology that requires adaptation, I am so far behind.  I feel like I'm ancient.  Like, how my grandparents see computers.  Impossible.  It's really overwhelming.  I, of course, am taking for granted how lucky I am to know the little that I know, because, if not for that I'd be totally lost.  The generations above us, even my mom's, can get away with little or no knowledge of even computers.  We cannot.  Certainly, the generations beyond us must acquaint themselves with the ever-changing technological world.  Which makes me think that if in previous generations wealthier children had a substantial advantage over poor children, how far is that margin going to stretch?  It's unlikely that very many poor children have computers in their classrooms, let alone their homes.  And, if they do, how outdated are they?  Can you even really learn anything off of a DOS system that's useful today?  Which, renders those old computers virtually useless-no pun intended.  Where do they all go?  Talk about overwhelming.  What the hell are we supposed to do with all this shit that we have?  And, we keep on making shit.  Sometimes, I look around my apartment at all the shit I have and, I'm like holy fuck.  I have a lot of shit.  But, in comparison to some people, I've got nothing.  Then, I start freaking out and thinking about how much useless shitty shit people have.  And how many tons of useless shitty shit is being mass produced for dollar stores right now.  Nick-nacks and shit.  I fucking hate nick-nacks.  Like those goddamned Precious Moment figurines.  Sick, sick people in this world.  Myself included. 

Maybe this digital era will help us produce less shit, and be less reliant on bullshit materials.  I hope so, because I have to rid myself of this addiction.

Life is strange.  When it crawls by, you wish it would speed the fuck up; and when it speeds by, and you take the time to notice that it's speeding, you so badly want it to slow down.  Is the whole point of our existence to long for something that we cannot have?  To control circumstances that we are incapable of controlling?  Or, can we control them, but lack the awareness of the ability to do so?  How can we be certain that any of the questions we pose the universe will be heard, let alone answered?  Does everyone really feel the same longing for something that's missing?  Are there people out there who are awakened to the secrets of life, assuming that there do exist such secrets?  What steps can we take to enlighten ourselves and fulfill a purpose?  

I feel, all too often, that it's all beyond comprehension.  I mean, am I alone?  I can't be.  But, why is it that I never, or almost never, feel comfortable discussing these things.  Yet, I find it absolutely necessary to banter and small talk to avoid what could be a beautiful, comforting and quite possibly, a very necessary silence.  Delusion, deception and distraction, the very nemeses of progress, are the weapons I create to destroy the thing I claim to seek the most: Truth.  

A security blanket, a brick wall, a mindless conversation with someone you should know better than you probably ever will, all busy us.  And, what is busy?  We're all "busy", aren't we.  Too busy to do anything that is "unimportant".  Excuse me, but what the fuck are we busy with, exactly?  Can anyone answer that?  We all can.  But, will we?  Defy the rules of safety within "correct society" to be so impolite as to follow up a, "How are you?," with a, "Seriously, how are you?  What gets you up every morning?  What are you afraid of?  Do you love anything?  Anyone?"  How is it that these things are unimportant?  

I am starting to realize, day by day, that I, of course am part of the problem.  Well, I like to think of it as an equation, rather than a problem.  Problem has suck a negative stigma attached, whereas equation, although challenging, suggests that it can, and should be solved.  Which, it can and should.  And, of course, the first step in any equation is to review our given circumstances, which are plainly and simply that our communication and personal connections are dwindling and being replaced by fear in a society that would rather text message and email than speak on the phone.  And, would rather speak on the phone than face to face.

And, here I am, High and Mighty, talking about a massive communication breakdown in My Fucking BLOG.  I am officially calling the kettle black.  

A trip

I think I'd better take a trip.  To the library.  I've got a CD that's overdue.  I love libraries.  I love borrowing things, using them and then returning them.  Then you don't have to buy everything.  Imagine how much shit you'd have if you did.  And, I've already got a lot of shit.  

It's gorgeous weather today.  Just gorgeous.

Yesterday, Jeff and I had a ukelele jam session for like 3 hours.  It was so awesome.  I think I progressed more in that 3 hours than I did the whole 5 months on the ship.  Exclamation Point.

Today, Matt came over and we played a bit, too.  He, coincidentally, is the reason I have a ukelele.  Thank you, Matt.  

Well, Flock of Seagulls is Saturday.  Sunday is Father's Day.  And, guess who's Dad is dead again this year?  Yep.  Mine.  But, I do still have my grandpas.  Oh.  Actually, only one now since one of them died this year.  Just grand.

My friend Dana, the "nervous breakthrough" guy, is so awesome.  So, I saw him on the street yesterday.  And, we stopped to chat.  He's always so encouraging and uplifting.  He was reading this Eckhart Tolle book called, "A New Earth", something like that.  It was weird because Jenn had just told me she was reading it like 2 days earlier.  So, I was even more curious that it came up twice.  Well, he told me that I have to get it because it will change everything.  And, he apologized for not finishing his copy so I could have it.  

We went our separate ways, and I went off to SC to work.  Wouldn'tcha know it, about 2 hours later he hunted me down.  He had really no idea of where I worked in the office.  He kept asking people, and somehow found me, which was indeed miraculous.  See, he knew my first name, but never uses it, and kind of forgot it.  He always calls me "Rush", which is about the coolest nickname one can have.  Go figure.  He's like the coolest dude on the planet; it only makes sense that he would crown me with that name.  By the way, he didn't just make it up one day.  It came from my trip to Russia.  He just started calling me Rush.  

So, anyway, he's asking people around if they know where he can find, "Oh, god.  Ya know, I call her 'Rush', but her real name is..." He finds me in the office, and hand delivers me a brand spanking new copy of the book.  And, right in front of my boss, which made it even better.  Talk about awesomely making someone's day.  I think he's like some spiritual guide for me or something.

Then, I get home, and I notice that an old high school pal friended me on facebook.  So, I accepted, happily, and realized that one of our mutual friends that I had lost contact with, but had been trying to find for weeks, might possibly be one of her cyberbuds.  AND HE WAS!  

So, I friended him, and then I immediately lost my internet connection, but like twenty minutes later, my phone rang.  Mark!  So awesome.  Oh my god!  We haven't talked in years, somehow we fell out of touch.  I just remember how fun it was hanging out with him.  Once, we went to a dollar store and bought kids cop costumes and drove around pretending to be cops.  We paraded around a Mattress Giant, demanding to see The Mattress Giant, to take him downtown for questioning.  Then, we saw real cops on the side of the road, and we asked them, politely, if they needed back up.  The dirtiest look I've ever seen flushed both of their faces, and, quite frankly, I don't know why we weren't arrested.  

Oh, and when we were like 16 and 18, we would go around crashing events.  Probably the best one was the Fucking 10 Year High School Reunion that we somehow managed to squirm into.  We were lying our asses off, and drinking and dancing.  So much fun.  Anytime someone would ask us a question, one of us was like, "Hey, (whatever the name tag said) didn't I used to copy off you in geometry?!  How are you?  You look great!"  I swear to god, a lot of them were like, "YEAH!  Remember the time....(too many stories to choose, sorry)"  

Then I remembered our game, "Garbagelawn".  Which, basically consisted of a few to several people driving around on the night before garbage pickup, garbagepicking the shittiest, funniest shit ever and a shit ton of it, and then arranging it on someone's lawn like art.  We did it mostly to ourselves.  The magnum opus in Garbagelawn was at MY house in Evergreen Park.  Holy Shit!  It took me over 2 hours to drag all the fucking hilarious shit off my front lawn into the alley.  My mom was actually the first one to see it in the morning.  She woke me up, "Um.  Eileen?  I think your friends left you a present.  Can you get it off my lawn?"  A BigWheels, Little Tykes Kitchenette, A Bassinet.  So much shit you wouldn't believe.  I felt so privileged to be the recipient of such a gift for which I did not feel worthy.  

Anyway, he lives in Georgia now, but he's coming to Chicago next weekend for a wedding, so hopefully we can get together.  And, he might actually move back here.  Maybe.

memorial day weekend

how quickly it seemed to come this year.  well, it just seems like memorial day weekend has, in the past, been defined by beautiful weather.  not that today and yesterday have been unbearable, but i've had better, as they say.

a scene:

we were standing as far apart as possible.

goggles.  aren't they?

i suppose!, said the angriest man i've ever seen.  just the thought of conversing made him irate.

but, i couldn't stop from talking, no matter how hard i tried.  i asked him a thousand questions.

what do you plan to do?  why didn't you say so?  what should i do?  do you even care?  i love you, do you love me?  has something changed?  what's changed?  something changed, didn't it?  can you tell me what changed?  you didn't tell her? did you tell her? you don't think i've changed (do you)?  can i offer you something?  anything?  drink?  something to eat?  advice, perhaps?

it was as if the two of us were sinking, helplessly.  uncontrollably, i yelled, do you still have that dog?

the fact that he neglected to respond nervously propelled me.  

would you like me to talk louder?  how's your mother?

dead.  both dead.

wow.

yes.  wow.

was there any...correlation...?

between the death of my mother.  and the death of my dog.  

yes.

no.

hmmm.  well, i'm sorry to hear that.  

that there was no correlation?

yes, well, that, too.  i really liked your dog.

auditions

wow.  they're funny.  embarrassing.  humiliating.  exhilarating.

i was just thinking about some of the auditions i've had.  some of the best ones were actually the worst ones.  just. so. funny.  

i used to hate auditioning.  ab-so-lutely hate auditioning.  i was never prepared enough, and i just dreaded them, so i always procrastinated with the preparation.  some of my very first acting auditions went so badly that i'm honestly surprised i'm still doing this.  it was like i still didn't know really who i was or what my voice is or the mere fact that i could even have a voice.  my voice is only now developing after all this time.  

i remember thinking to myself, well, i just hate auditions.  so many actors do.  so what.  and, there are plenty of respected actors who do, for whatever reason.  then, i got sick of hating them.  i would have a spectacular audition and still not get a part i wanted, or have a horrible audition altogether and not get a part period.  i hated the inconsistency.  i hated not understanding the process.  and i hated that i hated it.  

one day, i was driving to this audition that i didn't even want to do in like 110 degrees, running late and everything.  i didn't even have a headshot with me when i got there.  the audacity i have to even call myself an actor.  anyway, it was for some improv thing.  i remember thinking.  what the hell are you doing here?  you don't want this.  and, as the audition was beginning, i thought none of this matters.  just go out there and fail.  and, i did.  not out of any disrespect for anyone, just as an experience.  well, needless to say i've often replicated that same experience, some times unwillingly and unwarranted.  and sometimes not.

now i love auditioning.  well, at this moment anyway, i do.  

my brother called me this morning at 9.  it made my day.  

then my cousin called me at half 9.  icing on the cake.

me, phil and anthony (or as i call him, antwan) are going to see kids in the hall next week.  it's gonna be awesome.  

goddamn this weather.  i used to love it.  right now it's just depressing.  supposedly tomorrow will be nice.  who knows?  

just trying real hard to get back in the swing of things.  this summer is going to be great.  it has to be.  first of all, flock of seagulls is playing basically at my apartment.  secondly, joel and i are going to start working together on the show.  and, i hope adrienne can work with us again.  it was the best show i've ever done.  definitely the most fun.  and, the most rewarding.  and the riskiest.  

i'm so anxious.  i never get anxious.  stop it.  ok, i will.  silly emotions.  they aren't the boss of me.  nobody is.  speaking of nobody...

i got my bike all ready for the summer.  how sweet is that?  fairly sweet.  whoops.  that was a rhetorical question.  like, how are you?  or, who drank the last of the eggnog?  i'm fine; i just finished that gallon of eggnog, thanks.  damnit.  i did it again.

see?  crazy.  one time, i remember, the shit just hit the fan when i was working like 3 or 4 jobs last year, and i flipped out at this restaurant job that wouldn't let me quit for months.  i was crying and hyperventilating in the dining room and the kitchen and the whole place was like, what did we do, we're sorry.  it was major.  i ended up making some sweet tips because of the nervous breakdown i had publicly, which was utterly humiliating, by the way.  so, not really something you should willingly pull to gain piteous prosperity.  

the next morning, i had to work at starbucks, and i felt like a new person.  even though i was still broke, exhausted and working for no money, my head was clear and i was energized.  this awesome customer, dana, came up to me and said hi.  he's a writer for a couple papers, super interesting guy.  i gave him a free coffee, and i was super happy, singing and laughing.  he said, what happened to you?  you're glowing!  and, i told him the story about how just the night before i had a nervous breakdown.  he smiled.  and he said, you didn't have a nervous breakdown.  you had a nervous breakthrough.  which took me to an even higher level of clarity.  

i wasn't going to write

but, of course i'm procrastinating.

i should be cleaning my apartment, and getting rid of all the shit i have.  

well, i'm just on a break, that's all.  a short 3 hour break.  you wouldn't be laughing if we were in europe.  or maybe you would.  you seem to laugh a lot.  excessive laughter.  i think that's what it's called.  

i can't wait to recover fully from the exhaustion of traveling.   

plus, for the first time ever in my life, i totally trusted someone in a budding relationship, and i was double crossed, as they say.  fuck.  it really hurts.  real bad.  really fuckin bad.  

but, it doesn't hurt as bad as it would've had i never done it.

some things.

i guess there will always just be some things that can't quite be figured out. 

they puzzle me so.

like:what makes you feel a certain way.

                                               and why.  

    or, what 

               a 

  feeling actually is 

               and why there 

               are so 

           many sometimes and sometimes they're so 

          scarce.

does anyone have a scanner?

i need one.

wow

i'm a little out of sorts.  regardless, i write.

phil, i love you, and i knew all along that the deodorant was you.  when i think about it, i cry tears down my legs.  i'm laughing so hard.

elliot, i love you.  i can't believe how much i missed you.  i'm laughing even harder.

rodney, i'm sorry and i don't know what else to say.  i stopped laughing.

everyone else, i love you too.  and i can't wait to see all of you.  the laughing has begun yet again.

Long time no write...

Wow.  It's been like a month.  Maybe more.  

Where do I start?  Let's see...

I left the M.S. Norwegian Pearl on May 2nd, with some difficulty.  Of course, I didn't start packing my 3 tons of shit until 8pm the night before, and had to leave at 6am the next day.  Smart.  

So, anyway, I finally got my shit together in the eleventh hour and got off in one piece.  Although, I like to think that I left a small piece of me behind for my pals.  I am going to miss them.

But, it's good to be on dry land.  Went to Seattle for a couple days.  Had a blast.  Spontaneity.  Joined a pot protest with Venk; went on a cross-town hike with a guy we met; and then sang Beatles songs with a street band in Pike Place market for a couple hours, I think.  

Then, on Monday morning, I left to go to Orlando to help drive my grandma up to Chicago.  My fucking flight had a layover in CHICAGO...and all I wanted to do was go home.  But, I continued on and hung out with Grandma and Uncle Joe for a couple days on the road.  Somewhat awesome; somewhat shitty because it took so goddamn long and I was kind of sick.  

We did finally get here in time for Mother's Day and my little brother, Jesus' Communion.  God, is he adorable.  And hilarious.  

I'm exhausted now, and will retire to bed shortly, hopefully to replenish my depleted energy supply.  Tengo mucho a hacer.  

how cheese of me

i can't believe i just said that.  just wanted to share with the world.

tax time...

jesus christ!  what the hell?  why is tax season so ridiculously confusing?  

i can't file for obvious reasons right now: i live on a boat.  get it, irs?  

too late to 'pologize....too late...too late

Um.  It's never too late to "pologize", by the way.  And, quite frankly, I'm still waiting for Timbaland to 'pologize for making that song in the fucking first place.  I am speaking for an overwhelming fuckin' majority here, when I say...we're fuck-ing waaait-ing....

Oh, God.  I love cafes.  Real ones.  Not fucking Starbucks (a.k.a. Fivebucks, Shitfucks, The Underworld).  Don't get me wrong, Starbucks paid my rent for a year.  Yep, they paid my rent for one whole year!  What was the catch you're asking yourself?  They pumped caffeine into my veins whilst contemporaneously and heinously degrading my overqualified self, hence requiring my presence in their Shit-Shactory (Montelione original!) that it was at ungodly hours for a wage that is barely legal in most third world countries.  

Wow.  I needed that.  Even though, I realize no one reads this thing.  If they did, I would want them to know that I do really love Euro cafes.  I mean with real coffee, and food, and people, and cigarettes.  You know, what's that thing?  Oh, LIFE?!  

I've only got a month left on The Pearl.  My God.  I thought life went by quickly on land.  It goes twice as fast on sea.  And half as fast in Ohio.  Which means, technically, I live at 4 times the speed of Clevelandians.  If you're from Ohio, I'm sorry.  No, really I am.  Probably not as sorry as you are.  Read that a second, third and fourth time.  You'll get it.  

Sometimes, I get online, and I think, "I have nothing to blog about." (There's that word again...)  But, I keep surprising myself by just writing.  

Sweating in Antigua

It's a hot one today, even in the shade.  Oh, the internet.  How I used to take it for granted.  I now appreciate it more than ever.  Especially because I can internet whilst having a glorious view of the Caribbean, and maybe a beer or two.  That's boss.  Aka.  That's Tony Danza.  

Nice relaxing vacation.  That's what I need.  Wait a minute.  My life is vacation.  Everyday is my birthday.  Thanks, God.

Whatever.  I still miss home.  My mom is moving to California in like 4 days.  How fuckin weird, man.  Weird.  I guess I'll be following her pretty soon, unless I get a job in Chicago that's worth staying for.   Although friends are gonna be hard to leave.  Everything's happening so fuckin fast, man.  And, I'm typing in an English dialect, man.  I'm well retarded.  

South Beach

Went to South Beach today.  Technically.  I went to the Apple Store and Starbucks, and talked on the phone for like 2 hours.  Next week, we'll probably go to Ocean Drive for real.   I want to see in person the mayhem about which I've only heard as of yet, i.e. Super huge muscle dude rollerblading in a speedo with a boa constrictor around his neck.  

I love life.

I'm almost coming home to Chicago.  This winter flew by.  So weird.  Mom's moving to Cali next week, which means I'll soon probably do the same.  So FUCKING weird.  

So, Spring Break continues!  We left 14 people in Cozumel last week.  5 were kicked off; 9 missed the boat...Suckas!

Oh, can any-fuckin-one tell me what the hell "Bad-moo-waadka" is supposed to mean?  Gavin Rossdale, or whatever your name is...

Antigua

Here I am again in paradiso. Poor me.


Anywho, Mom and Grandma are here and they're having a blast. It's so good to see some family since Grandpa just died. Super suck.


But, they're here now, and I gotta go! Later, toads!

Spring Break Part One...

Spring Break.  Wow!  I never really experienced Spring Break as a participating student.  I was always too broke.  Times have a-changed.  Now I'm getting back all of those lost crazy weeks of ridiculousness.  

Life's funny, I guess.

This week I had a chance to see some Chicagoans!  Ranjit and Brian and the rest of Cupid came on for 5 days.  I didn't get to hang with them as much as I would've liked, but we got some fun in.  They seem really awesome, and yet, seeing them just renewed my homesickness.  

(I must say that I am having quite the time of my life, though.)

The shows keep getting better; we keep getting stronger.  We got a new musical director.  We definitely miss Joe Latessa, but I've got to say we instantly loved Rodney.  He's super talented, and has just jumped right into it.  All of our shows rocked this week, and I think they are going to continue rocking with Rocking Rodney!  This is your lettuce hand; this is your cheese hand!  

Well, Mom and Grandma should be on their way to the ship now, although I have absolutely no information on arrival time or anything.  Totally wingin it!  

I have recently become obsessed with Garth Marenghi's Dark Place, as has the cast.  It's become one of our eleven thousand inside jokes that help us alienate ourselves from all that is normal in social circles.    

Today is...?

Well, it's February.  I'm sure of that.  I think.  

You really do lose track of time.  The hours seem to drift in and out of one another here, until they are inseparable, indistinguishable even with a watch.  We change time zones anywhere from two to four times each week, which is quite an adventure in and of itself.  

The days are no longer labeled as we know and learned them in correct society, i.e. Monday, Tuesday, etc.  We now call them Cozumel, Grand Cayman, Miami, Samana, Tortola, Antigua, Barbados and St. Lucia.  (This is not a complaint; merely an observation.)

I've only recently discovered a BBC 4 television series that now solely consumes my once unoccupied time designated for extra sleeping.  

I'm more than half way through Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment, and loving it.  Although, I must admit, it is one of those books that is so subliminally philosophical that I can't help but be completely affected by it.  Strangely, I find myself more than willing to sympathize with Rodya.  (Sympathize, not empathize!...yet.)  I think I'm just taking extra pride in this effort because it's one of my many endeavors that I could find any reason to give into the temptation of retreat.  The density and gravity alone made it difficult to start even.  I was still reading the same first seventh of the book for 3 weeks before I decided that I wasn't going to let it get the best of me yet!  (I must say, though, that it is a rather wonderfully written book, and all should indulge at some point.)  

Mom and Grandma are coming in less than 2 weeks!  I can't wait.  My mom has never been on a cruise, hasn't traveled much, and we're gonna have a shit-ton of fun!

The Life and Time

Day One (Million)

First Blog.  Boy-ee!  I am still not sure how to pronounce the word "blog" without sounding like I'm from New York or Minnesota.  Two totally different extremes.  I've really been trying to find a happy medium between the two, but to no avail.  Probably because I get a laugh every time I say the word.  So, why would I want to change it, right?  Guys, seriously.  Not everything is meant to be funny- Hahaha!  Look at that dead body!  HAHAHAHA!    

(By the way, I'm not the only one who struggles with this word-BLOG-This absolutely ridiculous word.  Wolf Blitzer-CNN- said it about a dozen different ways on The Situation Room two nights ago.  (Can I just say that I love cable.  Especially CNN.  I fucking love it.  (Can you say "fuck" in a "blog"?  I didn't see anything about saying fuck or not saying fuck, so fuck it.)))

Boy am I proud of myself.  Blogging.  Welcome to the 21st century, me.  Welcome to the 21st century.