I love used bookstores

17 03 2012

as I found out today.  I shall elaborate more some other time but I am wanted to play board games with a friend.


3 03 2012


Maura and Aaron are at concession.  It’s downtime, between shows.

Maura: He lives in Maryland.

Aaron:  Uh oh.

Maura:  It’s too late.  I’m falling.

Me:  No, it’s not.  You can easily fall out of love.

Maura: [laughs]  You’re so cynical.

Aaron says nothing.

Letter of apology to a friend

23 07 2011

Through this photography project, I have discovered I am a terrible organizer.  I procrastinate until the very last minute or else I try to do things early but never follow through on things and end up doing things at the last minute.  I feel especially bad because for this project, I decided to make a film (maybe not such a wise choice), which then affects more people .  The lead in my film, though he’s a friend, probably hates me now and I’m willing to bet he doesn’t want to work with me on a film again since I’ve been hasseling him with text messages, some of which clearly show that I am disorganized.  At first he said, “no worries” and though he might have said that at first, as patient as he is, he probably doesn’t think that now.

We only have two other super short scenes to shoot but it’s taken me such a long time to organize everything that I feel terrible about putting him through everything.  I told him I’d treat him to some movies where I work and that I’d take him out to lunch or dinner sometime, but that still doesn’t excuse the fact that I suck.

Our last scheduled shoot day is Tuesday, in a few days, which isn’t too bad, except I know he’s working later that day and I wanted to avoid shooting on that day if at all possible so I wouldn’t piss him off or make him hate me but it looks like it’s our only choice since the other actor will be busy Monday afternoon, which is when I was planning to shoot.  I texted my friend and said, “Sorry for being a horrible scheduler.  I feel really bad for putting you through all this…” to which he didn’t respond, and I know that he won’t respond to it because he’s likely upset at me, even if he won’t tell me.  Sigh.

Sorry, Ryan.  I’ll work harder at organizing things much earlier from now on.  I hope you don’t hate me very much.

Poem for Conor

1 03 2011

Something I wrote for/about my friend Conor a few years ago.  Ah, the memories.   I remember I didn’t have enough time to write a proper ending but oh well.  Here it is in its unfinished glory.


Conor is always late.
Many minutes I have to wait.
I wonder if this is fate,
Cuz Conor is always late.

The time I did not choose
And yet I always lose.
Maybe he’s having a snooze,
or out drinking some booze.

Does he know where I’m at?
Did he get scratched by a cat?
Is he wearing an ugly hat?
I think he’s just a brat.

This is the problem with boys;
they think I’m just a toy.
Another part of their ploy,
and them all acting coy.

Random dream

9 10 2010

Something I found in my Crap folder just now.  Hmm.

Random dream

So I had another dream last night.  (Actually, I have dreams every night and I remember almost all of them, unlike the average person)

I should probably give you a backstory to all of this.  I (used to) know a guy named Peter who I knew way back in kindergarten.  We were sort of friends for the first few years of elementary school but then we weren’t in the same class anymore and we ended up drifting apart.  I left that elementary school for another private school for 2 years before entering high school.  He also happened to be going to my high school too, so it was kinda weird seeing him again.  We didn’t really talk, except in Spanish class when he would ask me about things and one time when he phoned my house and asked me for stuff.  (I was surprised how he had my number).  Anyway, I got out of high school last year and haven’t seen him since.

Here’s the dream sequence:  We are sitting in a classroom.  He turns around and asks if I want to know something cool.  I say yes.  He asks me if it’s weird that crosswalks start out wide and then gradually narrow near the middle and then widen again.  I somehow know exactly what he’s talking about and we laugh about that for a bit.  I ask if he wants to know something weird and he says yes.  So I tell him to follow me.

We somehow get to my old bedroom in my old house.  The camera angle is now third person as we sit down on the bed.  I tell him that I’ve known him since kindergarten and yet we never really knew each other.  I ask if he remembers the Memory Book (scrapbook) we made back in Grade 2.  I pull the oversized yellow book out of the drawer while explaining what I came to tell him about.  We had taken a class picture of everyone and below it, a caption of everyone’s names in the class.  A long time ago, I had scribbled out names of people I disliked, and of course, his name was one of them (this part is also in real life – the scribbled names part).  I tell him this and watch his reaction, but he just takes the book from me and looks at it.  I tell him I don’t know why I had crossed out his name and ask if he remembers if he did anything bad/mean to me, but he still doesn’t respond.  He continues to flip through my book, studying each page.  I look and him and gently kiss him.  I’m not sure how he’ll respond, of course.  The next thing he does surprises me, to say the least.  He just puts the book down, and walks away.  I don’t know how to feel; was it the kiss that made him leave me or was it the fact that I had attempted to erase him from my Memory Book?

The end, by the way.  If there is anyone who can translate a dream, then maybe you could help me out here, because I don’t know if it’s supposed to mean something.  I should probably say that he’s probably straight, but my gaydar is probably the worst in the world, so I could be wrong.  Also, I would have on/off crush status with him, but mostly off, I think.

Wow, that was long.