frail and bedazzled

[CherubRock]

I've been hanging around this site for a while now. I was introduced to the NYC improv scene in the fall of 2001. I quickly fell in love with the artform and for a while I was taking in a lot of shows and really enjoying myself. I took a sketch writing class with the UCB and discovered this wonderful site through a classmate. I've mostly been a silent observer here, but I feel suddenly motivated to start something like this up. So here I am with a brand new username, ready to go. Karate CHOP.

So why now? Why would I decide to create a journal after more than a year of silent observation? Well for one, the board seems fairly well separated at this point. Being that I am not an improviser, I never felt completely comfortable being an active member here. And I also just like the possibility of finding some sort of audience here. I am trying to explore so many different creative projects at once, and I feel like taking the time write about certain things just might make it easier to maintain a clear head.

I have so much to cover here and I'm not sure where to start. I think that tonight I may just begin with some random thoughts I've been wanting to express.

The following is a list of internet domain names that have not been taken at the current time:

frogfart.com, fartfrog.com, frogass.com, assfrog.com, frogtoad.com, asstoadfrogass.com, heroinaddict.com.

A kid on the subway asked me if I wanted to buy some candy in order to keep kids off the streets. I knew it was most likely a scam and the money was probably going to buy this kid crack, but I gave him two dollars anyway because I really wanted a snickers. I don't know what the says about me, but I don't know if I like it.

It occurred to me that New York City stars are the strongest and most beautiful stars. They have to shine through all the smog and shit in the sky in order to be seen. Sure, we can't see the thousands of other stars that are visible in other areas like, oh I dunno, Upstate NY. But who wants to see those stars anyhow? They're not even trying. Fuckin' pussy-ass stars.

I have no respect for anyone who believes in their particular religion enough to kill or be killed for it. You wanna believe in your little fairytales, fine. But can we not take it so seriously, please? We're living in the 21st century. Should we really be murdering each other over this? If you're going to murder someone, do it because they're just a fucking dick. Or because you love them and they don't love you back. I mean, that's not even a good reason but it's still a better reason than religion.

Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm coming across the way I intend to. I'm afraid of being taken a little too seriously. I don't actually advocate murder in any circumstance.

Unless it's toddler murder. That's (TOTALLY!) acceptable.

Sometimes listening to a truly great song feels just like being in love. Sometimes it feels even better.

I'd like to talk about so much more but I will get to it all in good time.

With boundless love . . .
farewell and goodnight.

 

[CherubRock]

You should never need to borrow another man's tie.

I work for a small commercial bank on Long Island, floating between six or seven branch locations depending on where I am needed. Today I was needed at the corporate headquarters, where all of the executives and the president of the company have their offices.

Today was the first time in my life that I have forgotten to put on a tie when I left for work in the morning.

Today. Today, when I will be working across the hall from the the CEO, I forget my tie. Fuck me.

AND . . . the assistant of the VP of sales decided that it was about time that I finally had my picture taken for the company's intranet . . . today.

TODAY.

I had to borrow a fucking tie from a guy who works in operations. And it barely matched. It was a very shitty day.

* * *

I am currently involved in three separate music projects. One is a band that is my primary creative focus, another is a band that is something I do now and then for fun, and the last is something of a solo effort. I have recorded two albums of my own material and I am trying to complete a third. These solo projects have always been something that I have done for myself and for a small circle of friends, but some of the feedback I have recieved has made me think that there may be a larger audience out there for me. I performed some of my sillier songs at two comedy shows last summer and the response seemed to be positive. What resulted though was a huge creative block because I became stressed out at the prospect of making every song funny. This had never been a problem before because I wasn't trying to create comedy. I was only trying to create. It just so happened that what naturally came out was cheeky and sort of strange, and it just worked in the comedy setting. Once I got into the mindset of trying too hard to be funny, everything fell apart. The challenge for me right now is not just to complete this record, but to do it while remembering that it is not meant to be a comedy piece. It's just supposed to be me. So far I think that I am balancing the songwriting fairly well between the serious and off-beat material.

* * *

I keep promising myself that I will start getting out to Manhattan more often to check out some shows again. I hate myself for it, but I keep breaking those promises. I've been to see only a couple of shows all winter. I'm hoping that the warm weather will put a little hop back in my step and get me motivated. Lately my entire palate has consisted of music, music, music. My primary band has been going through a rough period, and some really difficult decisions had to be made. I think that things are finally looking up and my head is beginning to clear, so maybe the summer is just the boost I need to get me going again.

With boundless love,
farewell and goodnight.

 

[CherubRock]

I was born on the 12th of August in 1979. I was to be named Eric if I was a boy. A boy I was, but Eric I am not. According to my parents, I just didn’t look like an Eric. Apparently, I looked like a Glenn.

By 1984 I was already a social misfit. It was never easy to make friends. Even my Kindergarden teacher hated me. My most vivid memory of Mrs. Cianciabella’s Kindergarden class involves the making of saw dust puppets. A saw dust puppet is a mound of saw dust gathered into a ball and held together with glue. It is then painted on and used for various puppet activities. In this case, the puppets were to be painted like native americans, and our class was to perform “Ten Little Indians” for our parents.

I refused to take part in the puppet show. I didn’t want to get my hands dirty. Even now the thought of putting my hands in a mess of saw dust and glue is enough to make me shudder. The result was that I was not allowed to perform in the puppet show. I didn’t get in trouble because my mother understood the dilemma. Saw dust and glue is some gross shit. Mrs. Cianciabella had it in for me ever since.

I really enjoy some of the journals that feature photos, so I'm going to try to incorporate a bit of that here. So whenever it's relevant, if I can dig up a photo to aid the subject matter, I will. Having said that, here's Mrs. C.

A short list of things that I had trouble doing, according to my kindergarden report card: Lacing my shoes, bouncing a ball, pasting neatly. It also said that I would have a very difficult time learning to read.

I was reading two levels ahead by the time I was in the second grade. Eat a dick, Mrs. C.

You would think that this woman would have grown tired of fucking with me, wouldn’t you? Well, you’d be wrong. Back in 84 I spent all of my time with a girl named Joanna. This chick and me, we was real tight, yo. I was tiny, shy, and awkward. She was tall, bespectacled, and had a wicked stutter. How could we not be best friends?

I found this out much later on, and I think it’s pretty horrible. That miserable bitch, Cianciabella, had a sit down with both of our parents and told them that she thought we were "too close." According to shithead, we were “distracting one another.” Our parents arranged with the elementary school to never have us in the same class again. Of course, I didn’t know any of this at the time. All I knew was that when first grade came I didn’t see Joanna anymore.

It's not like I had real choice in the matter anyway. When you're five you play with whoever's house your parents drop you off at. And because of this fat horrible woman, our parents thought it best that we didn't see each other anymore.

My only comfort is that Mrs. Cianciabella is most likely dead by now.

I don’t have any remorse for that comment. Sure, this was 19 years ago, but everything has an effect on you when you're that age. That woman took away my only friend. And I really could have used a friend back then. I have a lot of problems being comfortable in social situations. I don’t make friends easily. I’m horribly withdrawn until I feel that I can trust a person. Maybe things would be different if I had been allowed to have a fucking friend when it really mattered.

* * *

I’ve been ebaying like mad. I’ve decided to beef up my Smashing Pumpkins bootleg collection. I already have at least one show for every full scale tour they’ve done. Now I need to narrow my scope and try to find really specific recordings. I still haven’t been able to get my hands on their final show at The Metro in Chicago. But it will be mine. Oh yes, it will be mine.

* * *

The following domain names have not been registered at this time: MyTaint.com, EatMyTaint.com, EatMyTaintWithASpoon.com, FilthyTaintEater.com, DirtyBitchesEatingTaintAndLovingIt.com

With boundless love,
farewell and goodnight.

 

[CherubRock]

inquire within

I just had a pretty silly conversation with Laura. Thought I might share it. This was prefaced by a shorter conversation about how her boyfriend doesn't have any female friends to introduce me to. Man, I am wookin pa nub in all da wong pwaces.

LAURA

WeenieBeen: lets not change the subject. you need to start interviewing girls for this position.
YodaSnuggs: Should I post flyers?
YodaSnuggs: What do you want me to do?
WeenieBeen: all the work
WeenieBeen: duh
YodaSnuggs: Maybe I can set you up with Craig's sister
WeenieBeen: is that ridiculous?
WeenieBeen: cause I don't want a ridiculous date
YodaSnuggs: I've never even met her
WeenieBeen: no good
WeenieBeen: the girl needs to have your personal seal of approval
WeenieBeen: you've got to weed out the bitches and skanks
YodaSnuggs: Well I would hope his sister is neither of those things
WeenieBeen: but you don't know
WeenieBeen: is she twelve? cause jesus, I'm not THAT lonesome
WeenieBeen: No blind dates. You've got to scope these chicks out. Befriend them and gain their confidence. Learn their secrets and fears and then expose them to me. Then i can determine which is the right one to date, wed, and couple with.
YodaSnuggs: I see
YodaSnuggs: Good plan
WeenieBeen: I need you to do the movin' and a'shakin
WeenieBeen: talk to people, you know
WeenieBeen: work the circuit
YodaSnuggs: People from WHERE?
WeenieBeen: anywhere.
WeenieBeen: you're a girl. come on, know other girls.
WeenieBeen: you can do it
YodaSnuggs: i DO know girls!
WeenieBeen: i'm shy and lack basic social grace. i'm uncomfortable at best in the presence of women. i need someone to be out there playing the field for me
WeenieBeen: now I will expect full reports of your findings
YodaSnuggs: This seems like a lot of work.
WeenieBeen: this will require you to be out "on the town" at least three nights a week at local pubs, bookshops, and record outlets.
WeenieBeen: you must dress casually as not to draw attention to yourself
WeenieBeen: stay with me here, don't lose focus
YodaSnuggs: Craig won't like me going out to those places three nights a week,
WeenieBeen: Laura, this isn't about Craig. This is about ME.
WeenieBeen: What did I say? Don't lose focus.
YodaSnuggs: ok keep going
WeenieBeen: Now you're in tower records and you see a girl wearing a belly shirt and tight low riding vinyl pants. She is looking at a Third Eye Blind cd. What do you do?
YodaSnuggs: Nothing, I don't like her outfit.
WeenieBeen: Excellent!!! For the love of god, I do not want anything to do with an asshole like that.
WeenieBeen: I knew you were the right person for this
WeenieBeen: scenario number two
WeenieBeen: same girl, this time she's wearing a hooded sweatshirt, blue jeans, and doc martens. She is looking at a pearl jam cd. what do you do?
YodaSnuggs: ummm
YodaSnuggs: "awesome cd"?
WeenieBeen: WRONG!!!!! Wrong answer! THINK before you act! It's the SAME GIRL! She's in disguise, Laura! It's a trick!
WeenieBeen: RUN!!!
WeenieBeen: RUUUUUN!!!!
YodaSnuggs: OH!
YodaSnuggs: haha my bad
WeenieBeen: that was really close
WeenieBeen: you nearly got me a date with Twitney Spears incognito.
YodaSnuggs: ok well try again
WeenieBeen: mid-short length dark hair, glasses, 5 foot 2, button up dress shirt, khacki pants. Looking at a Juliana Hatfield album.
YodaSnuggs: "interesting choice, I didn't think anyone else liked her"?
WeenieBeen: it has potential . . . possibly indicate more clearly in the opening that you are a fan.
WeenieBeen: it sounds almost like you're putting her down.
YodaSnuggs: ok but the problem is I'm NOT a fan.
WeenieBeen: I would also have accepted, "That's a great record. Do you own her 1994 album, Only Everything? It is by far my favorite work of hers. I really enjoy songs like 'What A Life,' 'Live On Tomorrow,' and 'Simplicity is Beautiful.' Perhaps we could listen to it together later while making out?"
YodaSnuggs: Wait wait wait I'M making out with her now!?
WeenieBeen: no no no, I would jump in before then.
WeenieBeen: it's like cheating at a race.
WeenieBeen: you start it but I finish it.
WeenieBeen: it's foolproof.
YodaSnuggs: Somewhat.
WeenieBeen: I would also accept, "I really like your glasses. Please marry my friend."
YodaSnuggs: not bad
YodaSnuggs: ok going back to the first girl
YodaSnuggs: We judged her the first time on looks alone
WeenieBeen: That is absolutely incorrect.
WeenieBeen: What cd was she looking at?
WeenieBeen: Third Eye Blind.
WeenieBeen: Total idiot.
YodaSnuggs: Oh right right right
WeenieBeen: now this is important . . .
YodaSnuggs: ok
WeenieBeen: if you EVER see a girl looking at a Mates of State record . . .
WeenieBeen: Call me right away
WeenieBeen: I don't care if she clearly has down syndrome, you call me
YodaSnuggs: ok!
WeenieBeen: if she's got bleeding sores on her mouth, you call me
WeenieBeen: some things are worth a case of the herp.
YodaSnuggs: alright
YodaSnuggs: I gotta go
WeenieBeen: bullshit
WeenieBeen: Not unless you're going to Applebees to score me a waitress with a Jennifer Aniston haircut.
YodaSnuggs: ok I am
YodaSnuggs: Night!
WeenieBeen: LIAR

Well, I thought it was pretty funny.

Something tells me Laura won't be much help in this department. I'm not too worried though. I know the right girl is out there. She's just shy. Like me. :angel:

with boundless love,
farewell and goodnight

 

[CherubRock]

I hate parties.

I was at a party tonight. I would have gladly welcomed falling debris to put me out of my misery. I hate parties. But I'll get back to that in a second.

I want to quickly mention a really awesome artist named Asya Schween. She does the most amazing self portraits. It is impossible not to have a reaction to her photographs. Some of them are beautiful, some of them are truly disturbing, and some of them are just thought provoking. Up until very recently, she was only involved in art as a hobby but she has now found someone who admires her work very much and is trying to help her make a name for herself. You can view some of her work and order prints at AsyaSchween.com. A much more extensive collection of her work can be viewed at MyOwnSelf.com. I highly reccomend checking her out.

So back to the party thing. It is just impossible for me to be comfortable in this setting. Especially if there are people around that I don't know very well. I tense up and I can't be myself at all. It's a horrible personality trait and I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it. This is a thread of it's own, really, and I'm sure I will get into this in more depth eventually. But I want to talk about alcohol tonight. This is a subject that I don't ever feel like talking about, but tonight I want to vent.

There was a lot of drinking going on at this party. It's really tough for me to talk about my feelings on the alcohol issue because I tend to alienate and offend people. I usually try very hard to stay away from this discussion because it's impossible to have it without pouring my heart out. Someone asked me last year why I don't like alcohol and I told them I would talk about it some other time. I regret that I never actually had the chance to have that conversation. So Dave, I don't know if you'll ever happen to stumble upon this journal, but here goes nothing.

I am against recreational drug use of any kind, and alcohol is a drug. Alcohol is a drug that a frightening amount of people use/abuse, and it is completely acceptable in our society. I have a huge problem with that. I think that it is disgusting how many people die every day for alcohol related reasons. I have become far more tolerant of drinking the older that I have gotten, but it is really because of a complete lack of conviction at this point.

I hate to say it, but I am a fucking pussy and I don't like to argue with people. It just isn't worth standing up for anymore. I've done it and I hated every second of it. I lost friends standing up for this belief. People just do not want to hear what I have to say, and it got to the point where I just gave up saying it. I am a total failure in that respect.

When I was younger I could not even be around alcohol. I couldn't stand to watch people drinking. It horrified me to see the way that people would get. It still does in a way, but I have learned to keep those feelings in check. There was a time when I was 14 or 15, when I literally believed that it was my purpose on earth to put an end to the consumption of alcohol. And believe me, I tried to convince every single person that I knew. I was absolutely out of my mind. I still feel that alcohol is an evil presence in the world. It's addictive. It alters your mind. When you are having a shitty day and you have a few drinks to feel better, you're not actually feeling happiness. It's a false sense of happiness. It's a reaction brought on by a chemical. You are tricking your mind. Some people live their whole lives fooling themselves with alcohol.

I've been through rough shit my life just like everyone else. We all go through difficult times. But I maintain that I am a stronger person than most because I have gotten through it without falling back on alcohol. I've never drank until the pain went away. And I think that I am stronger because of it. I've faced all of my demons. I don't hide inside a bottle.

Already I am getting all worked up, and this is the reason that I usually keep my mouth shut. I don't like to come off as holier than thou, but I can't help the way I feel. This has been my most difficult trial as a human being, to stay true to my instinct. It used to be that there wasnt a day that would go by that I didn't wish I was different. I have hated myself so passionately for feeling the way I do. It has separated me from people for as long as I can remember. It makes it so hard to be social in any setting. It's an absolute nightmare. If I had it in me to have even one drink in my lifetime, I would. But I just can't. I can't because I know deep down in my heart and soul that it is wrong. It's just wrong.

If I ever do break out this can of worms in conversation, it usually upsets people, and I can understand why. It's so hard for me because everyone drinks. I mean, maybe not everyone, but most people drink. And I truly love and respect a lot of those people. And it hurts to see those people doing something that I feel very strongly against. It breaks my heart.

People hate me for this. I'm really not a dick though. At this point I've basically given up on trying to change people and I just suck it up and try to have a good time. I don't want to damage friendships.

Well, that was draining but it felt nice to air some of it out. I just hope I haven't severely pissed anyone off. That's the worst part of this. People think of it in terms of me disliking them because they drink, and it's totally not that at all.

Okay, it's time to get the hell out of here. Kisses for everyone.

With boundless love,
farewell and goodnight.

 

[CherubRock]

I've decided to go to tomorrow's harold night. I'm looking forward to it because my friend Eric is performing and I've never seen his new team before. It should be a grand ole time.

I got four new Pumpkins boots in the mail today. Lots of acoustic demo's and whatnot. I'm quite excited to listen to them. Isn't this the most enthralling journal entry ever?!

* * *

So now onto some big news. I recorded two superdrag covers and submitted them to the new Superdrag Tribute CD. The guy who is running the tribute responded to me yesterday and said that he loved the tracks. They are both going to be on the cd. The cd should reach thousands of SD fans, which is awesome exposure for me. My mp3 site should get a ton of hits.

http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/325/glenn_garthwaite.html

Because I would need to purchase licenses to put cover songs on mp3.com, I've decided to do a four song cover EP on my own. This will involve burning the cd's and printing the inlays on my own time and money, but I'll only do a small run of them. The tracklisting will be the two Superdrag songs, (She Is A Holy Grail and So Insincere) Sinead O'Conner's Nothing Compares 2 U, and Roll Out by Ludacris. The cover art is already done, and I think it looks delightfully shitty. Take a gander.

* * *

I have a definite problem with sameness. No, to answer your question, it's not a real word. I have a strange need for things to be the same. I get all bent out of shape and uncomfortable if things in my life change in the slightest way. For example, I go to the exact same gas station every single time I get gas. It doesn't matter if other gas stations would be more convenient at the time. I will actually pass other gas stations just to go to mine. And I always use the same pump. I have a five second panic attack if I have to pull my car into the station a strange way to get to a different pump. It's retarded. And I know it's retarded, but I do it anyway. I eat lunch at the same exact place almost every single day. There are plenty of eateries around where I normally work, but I always go to the same one. And there's a deli right next door to the fuckin bank. I've never been in there. And when I bring lunch from home, it's always the same thing. I don't know exactly why or how I got like this. I'm guessing it's some form of obsessive compulsiveness.

Tomorrow is the first time I'm seeing a show at the new UCB. The unfamiliar walk from Penn Station to the new space will undoubtedly cause a small amount of anxiety. And I'm pretty sure it's practically the same.

For a while every time I would leave Penn Station for home I would buy a Snapple Elements DragonFruit Punch. They haven't had it the past few times I've been there and I had to get minute maid.

It bothered me a little bit.

With boundless love,
farewell and goodnight.

 

[CherubRock]

Harold night on Tuesday was awesome. It's easy to forget just how great it is when you haven't gone in a long time. I feel like every time I see a show I am learning more about the artistry that goes into improv. I try to read various informational threads and I've listened in when improviser friends have discussed things, and I find that I just love learning about all the theories and rules behind improvisation. I really like Gypsy's thread in the improvisation forum. I've tried to explain the harold to friends who have never seen one, and it never makes any sense. You really do need to see it to understand how awesome it is.

I think I've finally given up the idea of taking a class. I really don't think that I am quick witted enough to do it well. Writing is easier for me because I can sit down and think things through. I do admit that a large part of my reluctance is a paralyzing fear. I don't trust that I would be able to get out of my own head. I would be thinking way too much and I would panic and freak out. I think I'm content just to be an improv super enthusiast.

* * *

I met Kevin Allison last night. My buddy Juicy took a sketch class with him and last night was the performance. It was absolutely surreal to see Juicy performing on stage with a State member. The State was God to us both back in the day, and I'm now kicking myself for not enrolling in the class. At the time it seemed like way too much money and I was trying not to focus any energy away from the band.

I tagged along with Juice and some of his classmates to a bar and restaurant after the show. At one point, one of the girls from his class made a comment about "the golden girls eating each other's pussies out." That was all it took. I was totally in love with her for that moment. Make me blush and I'm yours. That girl was fucking awesome.

* * *

I have a 2.5 year old cousin named Andrea. Andrea is lactose intolerant. As if that wasn't hard enough for her, her mother won't let her eat ANYTHING. The kid can't eat rice. Rice, for fuck's sake. She was at my house for dinner tonight and all she ate was applesauce and a banana. You can't feed a child nothing but fruit every single day. No wonder the poor girl gets belly aches and is sick all the time. All she wanted was some fucking rice and she couldn't have it. She was sitting at the table with tears rolling down her face, watching us eat our chicken cutlets and rice. She wasn't even throwing a fit. She's such a good kid. I got so furious. How can I sit and eat across from a little girl who's crying and saying "I'm hungry?" Jesus Christ, give the fucking kid some solid food! If I had to eat applesauce and bananas every fucking day of my life I would be pretty upset too.

It just makes me so fucking angry because I love her so much.

* * *

ANDREA

 

[CherubRock]

Collider

I went to a live recording tonight. It was pretty kick ass. The band is Collider, and if you aren't familiar with them, I swear you will be sometime soon. They are fronted by the sensational Jed Davis. Only a man that cool could have Wesley Willis write a song about him.

"Jed Davis is my friend to the max! He is my friend for the next 54 years!" ~ Wesley Willis.

www.Collider.com - - Listen to some tracks from their new EP, "We're Collider, You're Fucked."

* * *

I've got a big week coming up. Monday night I'm off to catch my buddy BJ in The Documentary at the UCB, Wednesday I'm going to try to make it to Bob Wiltfong's new show, and Thursday is the big annual Long Island Commercial Bank company dinner. The president is going to speak and all that jazz. Boring, but it's mandatory. And sometime soon I'm supposed to get together to jam with Vinnie and Jeremy from my old band.

* * *

I still live at home with my parents, which makes me slightly better than extremely pathetic. So maybe I'm somewhat pathetic. I don't know. I'm going to be twenty-four in August. My job does not allow for me to get a place of my own so I am stuck here until I can start earning enough cash to move out. I don't really mind it so much, except that 1) it makes me feel like a loser and 2) my father is absolutely out of his mind.

This weekend they went up to New Hampshire to visit relatives, which means that I have the house to myself. I'm in my mid twenties and I still get excited when my parents go away. Ughh. Anyway, I didn't do anything worth talking about. I did some recording. That's about it. I didn't throw a party, or have crazy sex in all the rooms of the house, or break a lamp, or do anything fun at all. I wish I had my own place to do nothing in.

* * *

A guy that I graduated high school with proposed to his girlfriend tonight at the collider taping. He got up on the mic and did it. It was an awesome thing to witness. He is the third person my age or younger that I know that is getting married. I had always hoped that I would be ready to get married by this age. I think I was the only 13 year old boy who fantasized about marriage. I've always had that idea in my head though, that being in love and getting married was important to me. I think that for a lot of guys it probably isn't so important, but for me it is. Of course, leave it to me to turn such a wonderful proposal into a festering pit of self loathing. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them. It's just difficult to see other people in love. The big green envy in me comes out.

I'd like to have a daughter someday. I would put pretty little ribbons in her hair. And love her.

With boundless love,
farewell and goodnight

 

[CherubRock]

Sense of touch

Saw the Documentary tonight. Good stuff. I might go to harold night tomorrow. We'll see.

I've decided not to officially release The Stormtrooper EP. Despite the fact that I adore the fucked up cover art, I think it's probably just unneccesary. The two superdrag songs will be released on the tribute cd anyway. I'll probably just throw the Sinead O'Conner and Ludacris tracks on a handful of blank cd's and give them out to whomever I think will appreciate it. I recorded a brand new original song this weekend and it should on up on MP3.com in a couple of weeks. I'm very happy with it. It's sort of Pixies era Frank Black-ish at times. (At times.)

* * *

Maybe when you recieve a package in the mail from somebody from Miami whose name you don't recognize, it should be taken as a sign that you might be Ebaying too much. I barely remember bidding on the cd's that came today. I was very confused. It's a Pumpkins Show from 93, which is a very good era because you get all the best tracks from Siamese Dream and Gish. The wierd thing is that I have two shows from 93 in my collection already, and I couldn't imagine what would make me want to bid on another one. I looked up the item on ebay again and then the reason occured to me. The close the set with Bye June, the last song on the LULL EP. They only played that song four times in their entire tour history. Now if the person who auctioned off the cd had sent me a fucking inlay card with the setlist written on it, I would have realized this right away. But I had to do the extra work to figure out why the hell I wanted the damn thing.

* * *

On the train ride home from Manhattan tonight, I had to sit in a car filled with 12 year old girls returning from a field trip. And the batteries in my MP3 player died. It was like some kind of fucked up twilight zone episode. I had to listen to them talk for forty five minutes, praying that they would reach their destination sooner than later. I thought about picking one of them out and staring at her furiously for the entire ride, but I didn't have it in me to be so mean for the sake of joke. It probably would have made a great story to tell, but alas, I left them alone and tried my best to fall into sleep.

* * *

I wonder where the term "fall asleep" came from. There isn't really anything remotely similar to falling in relation to the transition from being awake and being asleep. I could understand the phrase being used to describe someone who has become asleep unintentionally. To fall is to stumble, lose ones balance, etc. That makes sense to me. But if I get into bed and lie down, I don't think that "falling asleep" is the correct way to describe that. I think falling implies that it wasn't on purpose.

This and many more thoughts in my new book, Shit Nobody Gives a Filthy Yellow Fuck About.

* * *

I used to write poetry. Yes indeedy, my high school and college days are well documented by notebooks upon notebooks of mostly terrible teenage poetry. I say mostly because every once in a while I believe that I turned out good work. But that's not the point. Even when it was bad it was still good to be writing. I would say that 90% of my poetry fell into two categories. (1) I Am Happy (2) I Am Miserable. I'm willing to bet that most adolescent art is fueled by these same themes. I never particularly enjoyed writing it, but it was a release. It was an expression of what I was feeling. Now I don't write at all. And what upsets me the most isn't neccesarily that I don't write, it's the realization of what not writing really means. That I don't feel.

 

[CherubRock]

NEUTRINO NATION

Went to harold night. I am so very sad and confused.

No more Neutrino? Did I hear that correctly? I don't know what's going on but if those guys are disbanding it's a damn fucking shame. After their show tonight Matt announced that it was their last harold.

And it was a killer show too.

My very first introduction to long form improv was seeing Neutino perform at harold night. I believe that was back in the winter of 2001. A good friend of mine, Juicy, worked with Bob Wiltfong at News 12. I tagged along with him to check out the show and I was totally hooked after that. And the more improv I saw, the more I appreciated it because I began to be able to really indentify the art behind it. I've never improvised other than short form games when I was in high school, but I feel like I know quite a bit about the theories behind it. I got to work on the first run of the Neutrino Video Projects, and that was also incredibly beneficial because it forced me to pick up certain things. I had to learn the different parts of the harold and really become familiar with them in order to function well as part of the crew. That experience meant worlds to me because it really put me in a place where I could enjoy improv on an even higher level.

I dunno, man. Some shit just doesn't make sense. My imaginary flag is raised at half mast in salute.

 

[CherubRock]

say what?

Okay, so apparently I misunderstand what Matt had said last night. Neutrino is not a thing of the past. Hoo-fucking-ray for that.

It's difficult to have a voice here being that I am not an improviser. I feel like I have valid thoughts on things but I am usually not comfortable expressing them. I feel really strongly about this though. Neutrino is good for the theater.

It's like Baskin Robbins restricting how often they can sell vanilla ice cream in order to hopefully sell more of a less popular flavor. Well, maybe it's nothing like that at all. I don't know. But the point is if it aint broke, don't fix it. I find this sad.

The only thing about this I like is that they are being given more freedom to experiment and I am excited to see what they might come up with. They are a very smart and creative bunch.

Tonight I relax. I've been to the city for UCB shows three times in the last two weeks. That's more times than I went all winter. So I'm definitely on track with my goal to see more improv this summer. Hooray for improv.

xoxo

 

[CherubRock]

I had a horrible day yesterday. So horrible that it's casting a nasty shadow over my entire weekend.

I have a lot of problems paying attention to things that I am not interested in. Even things that I do find interesting are sometimes not easy to focus on. I've taken self ADD tests and they all come up negative which only frustrate me even more. At least if I could be diagnosed with something I could take steps to make it better. But as it stands now I have many of the symptoms of ADD, but not enough to have anything done about it.

Working at a bank it is very important to have a good attention to detail. This is a problem for me. I don't notice things. I am extremely unobservant. A couple of weeks ago I was driving to a haircut when my cell phone rang. I answered it (breaking the law, but we'll talk about that later) and it was Juicy. He asked me if I noticed that he had just driven by me moments ago and given me the finger. I told him that I had not noticed because I truthfully had not. This upset him greatly, seeing as he had been quite amused at the prospect of giving me a middle finger drive-by. It upset me too because I really should have noticed it. We passed each other on a small residential street. I remember passing the car, but I did not notice the driver being him or brandishing a middle finger.

Some of the symptoms of ADD that I have are:

Constant worrying
Sleeplessness, often because of too many thoughts at night
Fidgeting
Trouble paying attention to directions
Falling asleep while reading

Those are just some of the ones I can remember. When I get upset about something I tend to dredge up all of the things in my life that could potentially make me upset. It's a horrible trait. So when something gets me reall worked up I know that it will send me into a week long frenzy of depression and nervousness. A bad Friday at work may very well result in a Saturday and Sunday spent worrying about everything from my career to my love life to financial problems, etc. I promised myself when I started this journal that it wouldn't result in a bunch of whiney bullshit about being alone. I hate feeling like a depresso cliche. But today it's been on my mind so it's a test of my will not to write about it any further than I am right now. If I do write about the situation I would much rather do it when I'm not feeling particularly emotional about it. Perhaps that might not present an accurate desciption because I'll edit myself far too much, but I think the unedited version would be a little too much for this forum.

All this because I can't pay attention to dates and endorsements on checks presented for deposit.

I often wonder about the choices I've made in my life and wonder if they were really choices or if they were just me being what I was born to do. It's all very Matrixie in a way. But do I not drink because somewhere along the line I made a choice to never drink, or was I just born with that particular nuance pre-programmed in my head? I can remember being fifteen or so and being offered a glass of champaigne by my mother on new years eve. I turned it down. Why did I do that? I just remember feeling like I absolutely didn't want to have anything to do with it.

Did I make a choice somewhere along the line to wait for this perfect romantic movie moment in my life to make love for the first time, or is that just who I am? Because I could probably be having a lot more fun with this crazy rollercoaster called life if I hadn't turned down that glass of champaigne, or any of the girls I've been in relationships with. I don't know if I'm crazy but I refuse to give up the notion that what I have been waiting for will come. It has to. It has to because if it doesn't it would mean that I had wasted my entire life. And I can't accept that. If I have to wait until I'm 48 for it to be right, then I'm willing to wait. I just want to be able to die knowing that I held out for the right reasons. I held out and I won. I didn't let desire or fear get in the way of that ideal.

I think that my biggest fear is to never have that moment happen, and to die knowing that I was an asshole searching for fools gold my whole life.

But on the bright side, I had a slice of pizza today that was really good.

 

[CherubRock]

It's amazing what friends can do for you. It really is.

It's good sometimes to have a lapse in faith. It's good to question the reasons for which you do things. I think it allows you to come out stronger. I spent the evening with some good friends and I already feel better about things. So much negativity. Bah. I'm trying very hard to not be that person anymore. There are lapses, yes. But I'm getting there. Every lapse makes me stronger.

I was freaking a little bit whilst writing that last entry this afternoon, and looking back on it now is a little odd. I guess that at some point I did want to address certain issues here, but going about it felt a little bit too personal. I'm kind of glad that I got it out like that though because I really don't think it's anything to be ashamed of. A lot of people would, but I don't.

When my friend Tim joined the navy two January's ago he put a bounty out on my virginity. 100 dollars to whomever could get me laid first. I find it somewhat endearing that he cares, but mostly I find it insulting because I don't view it as a problem. It's a choice that I am proud of. I go through periods of self doubt, (in this case, a period of half a day) but in the end I always know that I'm doing the right thing.

I believe very strongly in love. I believe in it and I respect it and I don't like it to be cheapened. When I was nineteen or so I was acquainted with a girl who was 26 years old and still holding out for her idea of the right time. She failed miserably and ended up fucking some younger guy that year because she couldn't hack the wait anymore. I was horrified to hear that. I can't imagine waiting that long and then caving in on yourself. It's so very upsetting to me. I'm going to be 24 in August and I always think about that girl when I think about my own situation. I'm scared that the same thing will happen to me, but I think that the fear drives me even harder to stay on course.

Sometimes I think about the girl that will be the one for me. I can't fathom how wonderful she will be, and that is exciting for me because that is exactly how I'll know. Someday I am going to look that girl in the eye and I'm going to feel something that I never could have imagined I would feel in my life. And that's how I'll know. Isn't that a wonderful thing? I'm willing to wait my entire life for that moment. That moment is what keeps me alive.

I'm glad to be going to sleep on a positive note. I didn't think that would happen tonight.

With boundless love,
farewell and goodnight.

 

[CherubRock]

Everybody wants to rule the world

Tonight I’m going to tackle the subject of my band. The band is absolutely my most important creative outlet. On top of that it is also a very important career goal. I am fortunate enough to be playing with people whom I feel are excellent songwriters and musicians, and I am confident that this band can achieve. I have been in numerous bands, some good and some bad. One of them was damn good, and I am positive that we would have been signed if our singer/songwriter hadn’t suddenly joined the navy. But believe me, that’s another story in itself.

This band, operating under the name Cecil Dreeme, is the last chance effort by the lot of us to make music work. We’ve all been involved with other bands and we’ve all faced and recognize that problems that can lead to the failure of one. Cecil Dreeme is about making music that we think is fresh and different and creative. It’s about laying a framework on which we may build a career.

The band began with a concept. We were to be a dirty, sexy, real life version of every band you’ve ever seen playing in a smoky bar in black and white films. Our singer was to embody the character of Jessica Rabbit. The concept was almost more about image than about music. Somewhere along the line we realized that it was just not working. There was a discussion of what exactly was right for the band at that time and a very difficult decision was made. We separated from our singer and began re-thinking things from scratch. Newer and more natural songs began to spring forth and we undertook a painful process of auditioning vocalists. The four of us had a sense that all of the loose ends in the music would automatically be tied when the right voice was introduced. We met with a lot of girls who were really excellent, and our former singer was excellent in her own right, but the magic just wasn’t happening.

We stumbled upon Cara almost by accident. Cara was a miracle. She breathed new life into the band and motivated us when things were really looking dead. In our current state we have four songs that are performance ready, four or five that are nearing completion, and another two or three that are still in the early stages. We are to begin recording drum tracks in a matter of weeks. A meeting was held yesterday afternoon and a goal has been set for the month of July. Cecil Dreeme must see the light of day by the end of July. That leaves us 48 days to prepare. This shall be the summer of the Dreeme. Do or die.

 

[CherubRock]

I began playing music during the summer prior to my junior year of high school. I started late because of another elementary school teacher that screwed me over. In second grade when students were able to begin learning an instrument, I chose the drums. The teacher felt that my hands were too small to ever be able to play the drums well, and I was assigned the violin instead. That did not last for very long at all. I also took piano lessons that never quite amounted to much. I eventually taught myself to play the drums, and I think that I got pretty fucking good at it too. I can’t play like the masters, but I can certainly hold my own. I consider it one of my greatest accomplishments because I really worked hard at it and picked it up almost completely by ear and instinct.

But before music was the largest driving factor in my life, there were a couple of other things that I thought I might like to pursue. Writing was one of them, and in truth I have not given up on that as an option. But the first real dream that I had, and pursued for that matter, was acting.

My first acting experience was playing the big bad wolf in a second grade play. My mother still has the video. It’s quite amusing. I did a couple of other things here and there and ended up enrolling in a summer youth council program called Theater Arts. Theater Arts consisted of learning musical numbers/monologues/dramatic scenes, and culminated with a variety show type performance. I was eleven years old when it started and there were twelve kids in the program. I was the only boy. The following summer there were forty kids enrolled. Ninety, the year after that.

Theater Arts was safe. It was an excellent atmosphere and I was able to have real friendships with the kids that I met there. My entire school years were spent waiting in awkward silence for the six short weeks between June and August when I could really be myself.

When I was fourteen there was a school budget passed that did not allow for summer youth council activities such as Theater Arts. Before the budget was voted on a second time, I went to a school board meeting and read a speech that I had written about how important the program was to myself and other kids with similar interests. I am very proud to be able to look back on Theater Arts and say that I played a truly important role in its existence. The budget passed on the second vote, and I was recognized on stage at that year’s performance by Lynne and the president of the youth council.

I had at this time convinced Lynne that the program should be split in two, so that those of us who were getting older could put on a more adult show. The following year this split went into effect and it has remained that way to this day. I was also asked to write several things that year, and it was the first time that student written material was featured in the show.

The older kids program was offered to grades 9-12, and the summer prior to my senior year in high school was the last year that I could be a student in Theater Arts. Upon my graduation, I was presented with a plaque and became the first student to be inducted into the newly created Theater Arts Hall of Fame. A tradition has been made of this, and it now stands that all graduating students recieve this same award. I returned for the three following summers as a director, continuing to write and encouraging other kids to write for the show. I am so very grateful that I was able to play the role that I did in all of it. I spent so many years there that is is impossible to sum it all up in one journal entry. There are so many different ways that it affected me. Making real connections with some of my directors, making real connections with some of the students I directed, being given the opportunity to showcase my writing, inspiring other kids to do the same . . . there’s just so many things I have to be thankful for that are directly caused by my involvement there.

Why then, after I graduated high school, did I decide not to pursue theater? Why did I quit cold turkey? I had my reasons then. I still don’t know if they were right or wrong. I definitely miss it at times.

More tomorrow. XO

 

[CherubRock]

The last full stage production that I performed in was a play called See How They Run in my senior year of high school. It’s an English farce similar to Noises Off, and the cast of the show was the best group of people I’ve ever been able to perform with. There were nine of us in the cast, and only one of those people had never been in the summer Theater Arts program. What we had assembled was a group of people who had all been learning, performing, and growing together since we were little kids. It was a wonderful experience, and the show that resulted was the best that I have ever been a part of. It was as close to professional as a bunch of high school kids could ever muster.

When it came time to begin my college experience I was afraid to continue with acting. I was afraid of suddenly becoming the small fish in a big pond. I felt that it was safer to quit while I was ahead, rather than risk failure outside of the small community I had been a part of. So I’m a coward. That’s the biggest reason I didn’t pursue it. I chickened out.

The second reason was music. I found myself in a position where I felt that I could really make a career out of music. I spent the next five years working towards it. I failed, obviously, but I am hoping to not make the same mistakes with my current musical endeavor. Lets backtrack a bit.

*

My friend Nick received a guitar for his birthday in April of 1995. The guitar was pre-owned and had a biohazard sticker on it. It was so bad ass. With the help of Juicy on vocals the two of them wrote a handful of songs that summer, the most popular one being titled “Buttfuck Satan.” Upon hearing that my buddies had formed a band without me, I promptly begged to be appointed as their drummer. I was accepted despite a lack of drum kit or basic knowledge of the instrument, and I began my history as a drummer by banging on a tin can and a toy tambourine. Our friend Danny joined as a bass player after his father was awesome enough to buy him the damn thing, and later we acquired a second guitarist named Vinnie. We dubbed ourselves SPAZ.

SPAZ began as a joke, playing in the living rooms and backyards of our friend’s houses. But by 1997 we had actually acquired talent and were quite a popular band among the unpopular kids. We recorded our only demo on an ancient mixer that was borrowed from the school’s theater department. Eighteen songs in length and loaded with vulgarity, An Acquired Taste , was distributed the masses.

This was all high school shit and as it had to be, we went our separate ways after graduation. Nick went to Harvard, Danny to Allentown, Vinnie and I made a pact to continue to play music with one another, and Juicy joined a little band called Souter Fell.

Souter Fell was the brand new band of one of my very best friends in the world, Tim. Tim and I met at Theater Arts the summer before sixth grade. Tim has the ability to write amazing rock songs, and I was at every show they played. I was the big dork singing along and dancing like a tool. But this band had one weakness. Juicy was not a very good drummer.

Bless his heart, he's my buddy and all, but the kid just could not handle being in a serious band. Souter Fell was good with him in it, but it could never have been great. Tim understood this, and asked me if I would replace Juice as the drummer of Souter Fell. I accepted this offer under the condition that Vinnie would be brought in as a second guitar player, and my time on the tea-cup ride from hell began.

Things were rough between Juice and us for while after that.

* * *
SPAZ

 

[CherubRock]

There was a time when I would have said with all certainty that Souter Fell was going to take over the world. There was no doubt in my mind that we were going to be huge. I’ve never considered that attitude to be at all cocky because the success of the band had virtually nothing to do with me. It was all Tim. I truly believed in him.

When Vinnie and I joined Souter Fell there was a sense of urgency in the band. Tim was hungry and we were wanted to follow him. He used to say that he had absolutely nothing else going for him other than music, and that he had to succeed because the only alternative was complete failure. He didn’t have time for college because he had to be focusing every last bit of his time and energy on his music. In his mind, that was the only way to make it. You couldn’t just want it. You had to fuckin need it. Because I believed in this, I never put too much emphasis on my time at college. I always did well in school but I never took it too seriously. I never really thought too hard about what I wanted to do with my life. I was just certain that Tim would take Souter Fell to the top. It was very stupid of me to trust in something so blindly, but a small part of me will never forget that Tim turned his back on the dream. He gave up on it. And he left me stranded with no idea of where to turn or what to do next.

Our biggest problems were motivation, business sense, and patience. The problem being that we completely lacked all three. There was a very naïve and egotistical attitude in the band that basically went something like this: “We’re so fucking good that we don’t even have to try to work hard at this. We’re just going to get signed and make a million dollars because we totally kick your ass.” It’s an important lesson learned, but it doesn’t matter how fucking good you are, you’re not going anywhere unless you WORK.

Tim hated thinking about the business aspect of the band. Tim was an “artist” and could not be bothered to go about things in a business-like manner. The band lacked a strong leader in that sense. I attempted to take charge of these things on more than one occasion but I was never taken seriously. Patience was a problem because Tim grew frustrated too quickly. I said many times that we were only in our early twenties. We had our whole lives to work toward the goal. But in Tim’s eyes we were already failing.

My favorite Souter Fell moment occurred one winter as the band was starting to play out. We had a small devoted following at that time and we had booked a gig at The Voodoo Lounge in Queens. The club was closed up when we arrived to set up our gear. We waited in front of the club for about twenty minutes when finally a guy with a flashlight came out of the club. He told us that the power had gone out and the show was being moved to another club nearby. He asked us to wait for fifteen minutes while he ran to kinkos to make some flyers to advertise the change of address, at which point he would return to lead us to the other club. In retrospect this sounds like total bullshit, but at the time there wasn’t much of a choice other than to wait and hope he’d be back soon. Of course the fucker never came back, and this would be a totally shitty story if he had. After about an hour of waiting in the freezing cold in front of the Voodoo Lounge with a crowd of people that had driven into Queens from Long Island to see us play, we finally said fuck it. But then we did what I consider to be the most rock ‘n’ roll thing I’ve ever been a part of. We gave everyone directions to the photography studio where Vinnie worked and headed back to Long Island. Vinnie opened the studio and we set up all of our shit in the basement. Now, this was not a nice basement. There were no couches. There was no heat. It was a dirty, unfinished, disgusting cellar that no one ever used. And if the boss knew that we were there at night holding a makeshift rock show for a crowd of people . . . Vinnie’d pretty much be fucked. It was an awesome time. We played LOUD that night.

There’s absolutely nothing like playing with a band. You become part of a machine. Every player must be perfectly in tune with the other players in terms of pitch, rhythm, intensity, etc. We’ve all seen bands that are just not tight. They aren’t listening to one another. In a lot of ways a good musician must follow the basic rules of improvisation. Always listen to your bandmates. Feel the music, don’t think too hard about what you’re doing. Don’t show off. Losing yourself in a song is an absolutely magical thing. You are living that song, creating it and being it. I’ve been told quite a few times that my playing has surprised people. They don’t expect me to go fucking crazy like I do. It’s not even something that I think about. I just completely lose my mind.

I miss playing like that. Cecil Dreeme doesn’t exactly call for that level of intensity. The Dreeme is definitely a slow burn. We’re soft on the ears, but don’t let that fool you. We may be smooth going down, but once we’re inside we’ll FUCK YOUR SOUL.

 

[CherubRock]

a man drives a plane . . .

Souter Fell had become quite active by November of 2000. We were performing every 1-2 months at various venues on Long Island, meeting other bands, and writing better songs. The summer of 2001 was quite productive and culminated with a slot at The Downtown in August. That show ended up being the last club show that the band ever played, and I think we all know what happened that September.

September 11th fucked everyone up, obviously. I lost a family friend. She was working on the 90th floor of the second building. She had moved from Texas and started that job two weeks earlier. There really were a crazy amount of little circumstances that led her to be there in that building. Afterwards we waited and hoped that she would turn up on a survivor list somewhere. I have never been to the ground zero site, but I plan to make the trip someday.

Besides the obvious changes that took place as a result of 9-11, there were quite a few smaller things that were affected in my life. The first one being that Tim went through a total transformation. One month later Tim enlisted in the U.S. Navy.

The Navy seemed like a perfect solution to Tim’s anxieties. He had been working in a local bar and selling knives for income. He was frustrated that the band hadn’t progressed further. He was beginning to think about his future with his girlfriend, Jessica, and how he would support her. He was feeling a tremendous need to do his part for the country. I don’t know that the navy really was the best way for him to satisfy all of those things, but time will surely tell.

The band played one final show at a rehearsal studio in December for a small group of friends and Tim went off to basic training in January. At that point I had absolutely no idea what I was doing with my life either. The thing that I had focused all my time and energy on for the last five years was now gone, and I was left with nothing but a pharmacy supervisor job. I was twenty-two, and I felt suddenly old and pathetic. I switched over from the pharmacy to a bank, which I felt was more of something I could make a career out of. I played with some other bands here and there and eventually found a new life with Cecil Dreeme. I’m going to be twenty-five this August and there is definitely a feeling of urgency in the air again.

Tim is doing very well. He finished first in his basic training class and is now stationed in Virginia Beach training for air traffic control. He and Jessica got engaged this past January. I’ve been rehearsing monthly with Vinnie and Jeremy so that we may hopefully put on a show with Tim this winter. We’ve rehearsed with Tim once since he went away. It was a couple of months ago while he was on leave. For the most part it felt like no time had passed. What we’d like to do is rent a hall this January and throw a huge party/reunion show. We’re rehearsing twenty-eight songs.

We’ve got quite a bit of work ahead of us.

* * *
Souter Fell

Tim

Tim and Jess

 

[CherubRock]

be all that you can be

I saw ASSSCAT for the first time on Sunday. I don’t know why I waited so long before finally checking it out. Ian has got to be one of the funniest bastards I’ve ever seen. I went to three of the five shows that he did with Ali Farahnakian and I would say that the first show of that run was probably the funniest thing that I’ve ever seen at the UCB.

* * *

Cecil Dreeme will be auditioning a violin player this week. It would be very beneficial to gain this girl because she also plays a little guitar, and that would leave Dan with more freedom in his own guitar playing. Now when I say that she plays a little guitar I mean that she has some guitar ability, not that she plays a really tiny guitar. That would just be silly. Unless she was really tiny herself, in which case it would be appropriate.

No . . . no, I think it would still be silly.

* * *

I’ve been thinking a lot about life lately. Specifically about my future, my career, etc. There are so many things that I would like to do but I don’t know which one I should really focus on. I would go back to school but I don’t know what to go back for. I’m interested in the music business, but the industry is tanking right now and it can’t possibly be a good time to try to break in. I’m pretty sure that Five Towns College has a decent music business program though. Erg. I’m also not sure how I feel about that field because I wouldn’t want to end up being the guy who’s job it is to screw the artists out of their money. I could not be that guy. I would eat a dick first. I would literally eat a dick before I would be that guy. With a knife and fork, I’d eat it. Fuck that guy.

I think that I could be successful in advertising too, or some sort of creative design. But where the hell would I start? If I’m going to make a decision to spend thousands of dollars on more education, I’d better make damn sure that it’s something I definitely want to do.

I’d like to write also, but again, I don’t know where to start. I’ve tried to write a novel and that just didn’t pan out. My idea didn’t work for the format. I think that it might work very well as book for grade school kids. My idea was to have every chapter focus on a different individual within a community of people. Each chapter involves the same characters, but the focus shifts from person to person as the narrative continues. I’m sure it isn’t too original of an idea but I’d still like to go it a whirl. I thought to attempt it as a book for kids because I remembered a book with a similar format that I read when I was young. I think it was called Sideways Stories from Sideways School. It was basically a collection of short stories that all revolved around one group of kids.

I took one of the basic story lines from the novel I tried to write and brought it to my friend Dan as a concept for a screenplay. Dan is a good friend as well as the guitar player and songwriter for Cecil Dreeme. He was interested in working on a writing project of some sort. We made changes to the original story I had written and started developing the idea as it would play out on film. That project is somewhat stagnant right now, but I hope that it gains momentum again soon. It’s tough because the music is the priority right now.

Tonight I am going to watch season two of the X-Files until my eyes bleed. Season seven was released on DVD last month but I was too busy to watch it at the time so I haven’t bought it yet. It’s so hard to find the time to be a dork these days. But now that I want to start watching it, I don’t have the cash readily available for entertainment spending. So I’m going to re-watch all of the previous seasons while I save my pennies.

This probably won’t take as long as one might think. I once watched seasons one through three of the sopranos in a weekend. Someday I’ll tackle twin peaks.

 

[CherubRock]

Back in full effect

It has been quite some time since I have written here. I guess I just haven’t felt the need.

This summer holds much craziness for me at the workplace. Being a floater, I am assigned to a different branch every two weeks in order to cover the vacations of other employees. I won’t be settled back into my home branch until October. My vacation is in November. I plan not to do anything this year. My vacation last year was very involved and rushed. This year I want to do nothing other than sit around the house and relax. I had a very small window of time in which I was allowed to schedule my vacation, and I ended up picking the week that coincides with the release of the eighth season of the X-Files on DVD. I’m not sure what kind of a geek that makes me. Most likely a large one.

Last year’s vacation was a trip to Orlando with four friends. We did six theme parks in seven days, sometimes hopping between parks in the same day. The weather was unbearably hot despite our trip being in the off season, and I developed a wicked case of “somethin' fucked up and nasty” while we were there. It felt like I imagine Malaria to be. Very awful. The saving grace was the backyard ghetto mud wrestling we discovered our second to last day. Danny was taking digital video of the naked mud chicks. It was insane. Definitely one of the craziest things I’ve ever witnessed. Of course, I haven’t witnessed very much craziness. I tend not to be a wild and crazy guy. The one time I ever went to a strip club was because Tim was home from the Navy and all the guys were taking him out. I went against my better judgement and my friends all bought me a lapdance. I ended up telling this girl very politely that I didn’t want that from her at all, and I used my friend’s money to engage her in conversation for a couple of minutes. She was a nice girl. She said she was trying to put herself through college. Who knows if she was telling the truth, though. My friends made me pay them back when I told them I refused the lap dance. It probably would have been smarter to lie, but I just didn’t want anyone to think that I would have actually let it happen. It’s important to me to maintain conviction. That twenty dollars bought me a reaffirmed sense of self.

Well, July is almost over and Cecil Dreeme has not played out. We have become tangled in the recording process and it has been difficult to find the time to rehearse. Recording is a very time consuming endeavor. The fact that the recording is coming along so nicely is the only thing that makes me feel alright about the lack of performance activity. It is very likely that this band won’t see a lot of stage time anyway. Things are shaping up to look like our live show will only come every so often. Our singer will be studying music in PA after this summer, though she will be making the trip up to LI for regular bi-weekly rehearsals. It is going to make performance very difficult, but we believe that we can work out the obstacle. We knew about this situation when we took her in and we stand by that decision. This just means that we will have to push the recording extra hard and hopefully get it in the hands of someone who could help us. There are quite a few bands I can think of that barely ever played out before being signed. We just have to stay focused and continue to write and record songs that we believe in.

I had a really great time at the DCM. I spent my whole Saturday there. My personal highlights were Neutrino Video Projects, Baby Wants Candy, Bassprov, The Made Up Musical, and Lazyman. I had no idea what Lazyman was before I saw it, and I was very pleasantly surprised to see Ian Roberts. I can’t help but laugh at every word that comes out of his mouth. I got to spend the second half of that Saturday with my new friend Margaret, whom I met because of Lisa’s mix tape trade.

* * *

Here’s a memory from Junior High School. It was a cold morning for outdoor gym activity, and my entire class was on the field in our shorts to play European Handball. (I still maintain that this is a fictional sport created by Phys. Ed people for the express purpose of giving the non-athletic kids something to hate more than football.) Something peculiar happened on this particular day when it was time to head back in to the locker room. I noticed as I began to walk off the field that a ring had formed around me. Let us henceforth refer to this ring as the “Encroaching Circle of Shame and Humiliation.” Now as the Encroaching Circle of Shame of Humiliation closed in on me I was at a loss for escape strategy. These kids seemed to have really planned this out well. This was most certainly premeditated. The circle slowly came to envelope me in entirety and I stood there wondering what had been carefully calculated for me. It was then that I felt hands on me and my shorts were yanked down around my ankles. I quickly reached down to hoist my shorts back up to where they rightfully belonged, and that is when they brought the pain. Artie Gotzmer reeled back and administered the red-neck of my worst nightmares. This was no ordinary red-neck that a friend might give to a friend in a playfully violent way. This was a fucked up hateful red-neck specifically designed to make my brain feel numb. I whipped around and saw Mr. Artie Gotzmer laughing his stupid ass off, and the circle then began to disperse. I walked back towards the school with my neck stinging like a fucker and unfortunately had to pass by Mr. Apgar, the Phys. Ed instructor.

Mr. Irving Apgar had a very distinct accent. Everyone could do their own impression of him despite not having the faintest idea where he was from. When Mr. Apgar saw my neck he FLIPPED OUT.

“What the hell happened to this boys neck?!?!”

The man apparently didn’t know my name. Fantastic. He proceeded to yell at me until I caved in and gave him the name of my assailant.

“Artie!! Artie Gotzmer! What the hell is wrong with you?! Look at this boy’s neck! Look how red it is!”

It must have been the most blazingly grotesque shade of fire engine red because there were now other kids gasping as they came in for a closer look. One wouldn’t think that a red-neck could cause so much damage, but I ensure you it felt like a small portion of hell had erupted on the back on my neck. I can’t imagine that a caning could be very much worse.

Artie took one for the team and bore the brunt of the punishment. He was made to run two laps around the field before returning to the locker room, thus making him late for his next class. I didn’t want to go to the nurse. I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened and stop drawing attention to myself. But Apgar wouldn’t have it.

Somehow in the end I wound up feeling guilty.