Hey everybody. If you were into my old blog, you'll be pleased to know that I'm picking the blogging shit back up. If you are new to my writing, you might not be familiar with how sarcastic I sometimes feel like being. So, assuming I remember to, I'm gonna borrow a bit from Kurt Vonnegut's playbook and put an asterisk (*) after things you don't need to take so seriously (though, technically that should be every single sentence I write*). I'm hoping this won't be quite as nauseating as the "wink" emoticon: ";)".
Prior to my time in Portland Oregon, I never would've thought it necessary to call attention to sarcasm. But having spent a good deal of quality time with west coast folks, I've learned there are lots of people out in the world who, despite being perfectly nice, intelligent and fun to be around, simply don't understand sarcasm. Hopefully, attending to the needs of the Irony Deficient Individuals Out There* won't diminish reading pleasure for the rest of you.
Anyhow... so much has happened since last I posted anything on the web, that it's just not practical to attempt relating it all. Instead, settle for some highlights:
- I'm living in my old Hell's Kitchen apartment with my excellent friends Catherine and Josh. They are newlyweds. The place is... small. You do the math. Good thing I've trained them not to mind when I masturbate in front of them.*
- I'm working as an Associate Producer for something called Equator HD. This is pretty much the first regular day-job I've had in 7 years. It's been quite an adjustment having to be in a place, at a time, doing stuff, for other people, with other people. I'd gotten used to only having to deal with the incompetence of one person: me. But now? Several persons! Good thing my co-workers don't seem to mind when I masturbate in front of them.* Then again, I find I can't always count on co-workers to speak up about things that might be embarrassing. You know... like when you come home after a whole day of work and in your bathroom mirror you notice that you have a piece of spinach the size of a hamster stuck in your teeth, right where it has been for the last 6 hours, ever since the salad you had at lunch, and nobody, not a single one of the hundreds of your co-workers who saw you, and the spinach, said a word about it. Well, for all I know, it's the same with the masturbating.*
- The job is right across 7th avenue from Madison Square Garden/Penn Station, which is conveniently located only 13 short blocks south and 2 long blocks east of my apartment. This is good in that I can walk there in 20-30 minutes even on no sleep and no caffeine, should I wake up at, say, 9am and need to just throw my pants on and run out the door. In almost every other respect, it is bad. For instance: there aren't any really good places to get lunch near the office, and the whole area is overrun with commuters 100% of the time. Fortunately, the commuters don't seem to mind when I masturbate in front of them.*
- I now ride a bicycle everywhere I go. This merits a blog post all its own.
- I haven't forgotten about the zombie movie script. Been getting encouraging feedback on what I've written thus far, so as soon as my body/mind finishes adjusting to the whole midtown manhattan media-empire thing again, and I stop needing to take so many naps, I'll get back to cranking on that shit too.
Okay. That's all for now.
Next time: bicycle stuff.
Oh, and don't worry... I'll have your money soon.
(Notice how there wasn't an asterisk after that last sentence?)