Category: Livejournal

All other roleplaying shall cease. I need to start playtesting, and playtesting A LOT. Tonight, I start making characters.

If you know what I’m talking about, be over at my place tonight.

(Okay… maybe the Vampire TT. I’ve still got to see what happens when Mr. Finger meets Marcus. I’m not making any plans… just gonna let them meet on their own and see what happens.)

It seems I’m living two lives. One is creatively fulfilling, filled with good people, good friends and comfort.
My second life is full of… well, bad things.

I’m at a crossroads. Time to pick.
Last night, I think I did.

I had a choice to go to a Vampire LARP or hang out with co-workers and my two wonderful bosses. I chose the latter.

No hyper-freaky, super paranoid women who want me to share in their drama and nothing else. No suspicious boyfriends who believe everything their SOs tell them, regardless of what evidence to the contrary may believe. No double-faced lying, no grief, no drama. Just a good time with people who have actually done something with their lives, rather than standing on the credits of a fake life.

And I didn’t feel one ounce of regret. None. Gone.

I realized something last night, lying in bed, waiting for sleep to come. I know now why I’ve been holding back, why I haven’t accomplished anything in my life for the six months since my divorce. I realized that I’ve been spending all my energy trying to figure out how I could have chosen differently, how I could have saved what I had.

What I should have been doing was putting all my energy into building what I have.

Had a lot of it last night, but whiskey doesn’t go to my head — it goes to my hands, feet and tongue. Makes them tickle.

Funny thing. Vodka goes straight to my head and makes my very happy. Beer makes me… sick. But whiskey — ah, sweet whiskey. You jolt my senses and make me sing.

Watching turtles race in an Irish pub off Venice boulevard was a great way to start off the holiday. It’s called Brennan’s, for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about. Spent the night there, closed out the bar. Talked about a whole lot of things with a whole lot of people. Whiskey will do that to me. If you think I’m talkative sober… you ain’t seen me with a couple o’ shots down me gullet. Shotgun, baby.

Gonna see Terminator 3 with Rob this afternoon. If anybody’s interested, just drop on by.

On Smackdown! tonight, there’s a tag match that’s supposed to be a match of the year candidate. I’m getting popcorn, sodas, hotdogs, and a bunch of other goodies for anybody who wants to show up and watch it with me.

Anybody who shows up will get to see why I watch wrestling. Not the tits, beer, or Hogan. But for a stiff match complete with a representative from all the different “schools” of wrestlers: Mexican (Guererro), Japanese (Tajirii), and North American (The Best Damn Tag Team Ever).

Show starts at 8:00.

http://www.msnbc.com/news/933992.asp?cp1=1

I have the Best. Job. Evar.

(from www.liveaudiowrestling.com):

“Hulk Hogan went on the Bubba The Love Sponge show (Monday) morning and broke the news that he has left the WWE, citing creative differences. Hogan has been upset over the amount of jobs he’s been doing and saw nothing coming back his way so he’s decided to leave the company. This decision I believe, was made two days ago but the WWE didn’t want to make the announcement and probably thought they could talk him out of it. Hogan’s friends apparently encouraged him not to do the show today but he did anyway.”

Nah nah nah nah
Nah nah nah nah
Hey hey
Goodbye!
(And good riddance)

I liked it. A lot.

No gore, all atmosphere.
Disturbing images, vividly shot with a documentary style made me in the picture.

Jump Meter: 3 (I jumped out of my seat three times.)

Characters were great. How do people survive? Why do people survive? In such a bleak situation, why don’t they just kill themselves? How do they convince themselves not to just lay down and die? What do we hold on to? What do we really hold on to? What keeps us going?

It isn’t enough just to throw a bunch of people together in an old house and watch them disintigrate. That worked once, and when Romero did it, he did it better than anybody else. New questions, new observations, new answers.

And zombies. Very, very scary zombies.

I liked it. It scared the hell out of me.
And proves, once again, that special effects don’t scare people.
Their own minds do.

I get to write the Jhudora Neopedia entry!!!

Good evening, I’m John and you… you have a life.

Friday
asked me to play an NPC at his Cam game. Since our original plan was for me to play the NPC anyway, and because he threw massive ego-stroking praise on my head, I said, “I guess so.”

I’m glad I did, because I had a blast. And I needed a little fun.

Another visit to the doctor, and the news isn’t any better.

My bosses asked me to come to a BBQ on Saturday, but I wasn’t feeling too jovial.

Saturday
I ditched the BBQ and two friends from work I convinced to go. I was stuck with the feeling that I hadn’t done my best on Friday. I’m always stuck with that feeling with everything that I do — but it was different. All day long, I sat and stewed about my doctor’s visit.

Once again, proved his Masta Storytellin’ skiiilzzzz… if you will. (Invoking Dusty Rhodes.)
Star Wars. I shot Vader. Not even Solo could shoot Vader.
I’m beaming… but beaming under that fucking cloud from Friday.

Sunday
I called the friend I ditched on Saturday. We’re gonna go see the Monster Scary Zombie Movie tomorrow night. Made me feel a bit better, knowing I hadn’t fucked up something else in my life.

At around 11 PM, I was checking my e-mail (got internet service in the apartment — finally)… and found something. Something that… should remain private. It was a mistake. That’s all. Someone’s irrational, angry mistake.

And then, like clockwork, she calls. And we talk on the phone for close to two hours. Like we used to. No, not like we used to. A little sad, a little hesitant. A little afraid to say the wrong thing. Nobody did.

I told her about what’s going on in my so-called-life. She comiserated. We cried and said goodbye. And hello. It’s been a long time. We still need each other, but we’re afraid of being close enough to get pushed away again.

I know now what’s kept me from moving forward. It’s because something in my past, the most important part of my life, was broken. And I don’t know if it can be fixed, but it needs to be cleaned up. And I can’t do anything else until that happens. And tonight, I think we finally started picking up the pieces.

Anybody got some glue?