So this was the weekend of Birthday parties. As we celebrated the 1 years old birthday * of the wee Jack, back in Denver Jeremy and Carrie, two of my favorite people of all time celebrated their spiraling decent into their 30s. I wish you both the best, and I am truly sad that I was not there to watch the pair of you defile yourselves. Cookie was not on hand, due to a previous engagement of a family reunion, celebrating his decent into insanity, I imagine.
Our weekend was (as the title suggests) hella busy.
Let's start on Friday. Jen had an event, so she took off early for that, having to drive to Tulsa, drop off the boy at the babysitter, then venture way up North to the event. I, after a full day of work, had to book it home, collect the dogs, and motor to Tulsa myself to pick up my mom at the airport. We then went to The Grandparent's house and hung out for the remainder of the evening. The house was full of guests including Jen's sister and her husband. We ate fajitas. Jen rolled back in about 2:30 am, and Jack woke up at 5:30, giving her a really nice, full night's sleep. So as not to wake up the rest of the house, we went to the coffeeshop, and then to a park for the morning.
Around 11:00, Lonny and I had to go help cousin Preston move. That was treat in the 101 degree heat. We were the first to arrive, and did the bulk of the heavy lifting, Lonny with a bum thumb (a result of a "combat injury" suffered in Iraq during a particularly intense volley ball game). We got them moved, however, and after some wonderfully cold beers and tacos, Lonny and I headed back over to the house to prepare for the festivities.
Streamers, balloons that popped every two seconds, snacks and goodies, extra chairs and tables, the cakes, the splash-pad, and a bunch o' grillin' meat. Done in time to take a quick shower that I was still in when the first guests arrived.
It was a "pool party" of sorts. More like a splash-pad party, but hey, nobody really complained. I think the older kids were a little disappointed, though. The whole thing was vintage cow-boy themed, and I think it went off really well. Jack tore into the strawberry cake after a few test jabs, and had a hell of a time. Then presents. That kid got more stuff on Birthday #1 than I did on all of my childhood birthdays put together. Craig and Heather got him the coolest items by far. They really went the distance with a little boy's cowboy cut button up shirt, and a really cool t-shirt, coupled with a really awesome print of a cowboy for his wall. People really want that kid to read, as he got so many books, we have to go and get a a new bookshelf just to put them all on. The Walkers each got him a copy of their favorites books from their own childhoods, and inscribed each with a personal note, which I thought was really sweet.
After the guests dwindled and we cleaned up both ourselves and the house, and after Jack crashed from the MASSIVE sugar high he was on from the cake, we decided to go to the bar.
The Nelson's and The Powers headed to Caz's, and had to turn around and go back to Sapulpa to get Jen's ID, because she forgot it. When we got back, Craig and Heather had already left, but forgot a half a pack of cigarettes on their table, and we assumed they were a gift, so we happily puffed away the night on their dime (thanks, guys!). The One and Only Andrea was there and we all chatted away till closing. We got home sometime after 2:00, and Jack woke up at 5:30, giving us another night of rest and relaxation. Jen lost it, and went home to sleep. I stayed up with the boy until my mom woke up, and we packed up and left around 11:00. We got back into Stilly and all took naps while doing absolutely nothing** for the rest of the day.
There was an awesome gift waiting in the mailbox, though. This was the new Evildoers CD, and a bunch of other swag that I had designed for them. I've done CD covers and buttons and things before, but there is always something really cool about getting your hands on the final product for the first time. Joey also included a shirt for Jack. All of this enclosed in a pop-corn box.
I think we all went to bed around 10:00, which was good, because Jack woke up at 5:30 again, and we were all a little less likely kill anybody.
* Blogger's picture thingy isn't working for me, so go to Flickr.
**if you conceder watching a bunch of Sealab "nothing"
Monday, July 31, 2006
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Nostalgia
So Cookie and I were talking the other day about band names. This got me thinking about all the bands I was in during high school, which was a surprising amount considering I can't play any instruments nor read music. But not very surprising if you take into account that it was usually the same basic group of guys. We rehearsed basically never and only ever played one "show" at Mike's birthday party while his parents were out of town. We went through a plethora of names and corresponding ideologies. My memories of these events are shrouded by a haze of recreational drug use,so if any of you old-schoolers are reading this, please feel free to correct anything that you remember better than I do.
(in no particular order)
The Puritans: It was under this moniker that we played our one and only "show". That night was more important to our group of friends in that it was the first real house party of our youth. We had others, but this one had a band. It was also important for me because it was at this party that I hatched my evil plan to steal Mike's girlfriend as soon as he left town the following month. I dated her for quite some time, but that really had nothing to do with me "stealing" anything. It was all her doing. It usually is. The Puritans played mostly covers of late '80s mopey new wave, although we did do an original written by Isaac, which I believe had something to do with kidnapping. I did this drawing of Hodge Podge from Bloom County for the drum kit.
100 foot limit: This started out as a very fIREHOSE inspired skater band. That was about as far as it went. We got the name from a sign on the flag pole at school that Joey and I stole one day, and resided on his base drum for quite a few years till he sold his kit for rent money. He kept the sign, though. We did this awesome sped-up version of Bela Lugosi's Dead that rocked the house, um basement.
Big Blue Tugboat: Later shortened to just Tugboat. Later shortened to non-existent.
Katharsis: (with a backwards K) This was the industrial band. Very Skinny Puppy, very Thrill Kill Kult, hence the backwards K. This was a band that formed out of us meeting a guy who was really good with a keyboard, and his twin brother who could play guitar. Before that, we just had a weird collection of what we called "insult and injury songs". These, as should be painfully apparent, were either about injuries: phlegm ball (in the corner of my eye), a rock ballad of sorts, and the ever catchy Smoke in the Eye. Or insults: Yo, bitch or Fuck off and Die, which went something like this:
Fuck off and die!
Fuck off and die!
Screw you, bitch!
Fuck off and die!
Blow it out your ass!
Blow it out your ass!
Fuck off and die!
Deep, I tell you. That song, much like the rest, was about one minute long. This was my favorite band to be in, because all we did is hit play on the keyboard, and pound on our instruments, much like Skinny Puppy.
Soon, we all graduated and went our separate ways. Only Joey ever made anything out of his musical ability. Partially because he had more drive, but mostly because the rest of us didn't have any musical ability. I became resigned to designing gig posters for for the few bands that I knew, and still do from time to time.
(in no particular order)
The Puritans: It was under this moniker that we played our one and only "show". That night was more important to our group of friends in that it was the first real house party of our youth. We had others, but this one had a band. It was also important for me because it was at this party that I hatched my evil plan to steal Mike's girlfriend as soon as he left town the following month. I dated her for quite some time, but that really had nothing to do with me "stealing" anything. It was all her doing. It usually is. The Puritans played mostly covers of late '80s mopey new wave, although we did do an original written by Isaac, which I believe had something to do with kidnapping. I did this drawing of Hodge Podge from Bloom County for the drum kit.
100 foot limit: This started out as a very fIREHOSE inspired skater band. That was about as far as it went. We got the name from a sign on the flag pole at school that Joey and I stole one day, and resided on his base drum for quite a few years till he sold his kit for rent money. He kept the sign, though. We did this awesome sped-up version of Bela Lugosi's Dead that rocked the house, um basement.
Big Blue Tugboat: Later shortened to just Tugboat. Later shortened to non-existent.
Katharsis: (with a backwards K) This was the industrial band. Very Skinny Puppy, very Thrill Kill Kult, hence the backwards K. This was a band that formed out of us meeting a guy who was really good with a keyboard, and his twin brother who could play guitar. Before that, we just had a weird collection of what we called "insult and injury songs". These, as should be painfully apparent, were either about injuries: phlegm ball (in the corner of my eye), a rock ballad of sorts, and the ever catchy Smoke in the Eye. Or insults: Yo, bitch or Fuck off and Die, which went something like this:
Fuck off and die!
Fuck off and die!
Screw you, bitch!
Fuck off and die!
Blow it out your ass!
Blow it out your ass!
Fuck off and die!
Deep, I tell you. That song, much like the rest, was about one minute long. This was my favorite band to be in, because all we did is hit play on the keyboard, and pound on our instruments, much like Skinny Puppy.
Soon, we all graduated and went our separate ways. Only Joey ever made anything out of his musical ability. Partially because he had more drive, but mostly because the rest of us didn't have any musical ability. I became resigned to designing gig posters for for the few bands that I knew, and still do from time to time.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
A break in the heat
Finally! Although usually 97 degrees isn't a break, but it is 10 degrees cooler than what it's been around here. So that's good. I guess.
We got a new car a few weeks ago, and I have to tell you, it wasn't a moment too soon. The crappy black Jeep with the bum door and the shitty air conditioning, would have killed both itself and Jennifer and probably Jackson with all the driving in the 100 degree heat Jen had to do this week. So kudos to the Xterra for being comfy and cool.
Big Jack is loving being a year old. It's a big milestone. He got to turn his carseat around to face front, he can eat nuts and strawberries with no fear of possible future allergies, the next level of Baby Einstein videos are at dis disposal, and we get cheaper rates for mommy's day out babysitting. He doesn't know it, but he's very excited. He tore into his little carrot cake with reckless abandon, and threw the singing candle on the ground for the dogs. I got him a t-shirt that reads: Mommy wants a new president. Fun stuff.
What else? I watched the entire first season of Arrested Development last night. That is some funny shit right there. They got all the right guest stars and everything. David Cross is hawesome, and this is Jeff Tambor's best work since the Larry Sanders Show. Thanks ever so to Cookie for lending it to us. He has a date tonight
Page two: The whole stem cell thing just really pissed me off. Jen too, given who she works for. They now have to send a bunch of that research out of the country, and that means more expense and Americans won't get the credit. And now his horrible foreign policy has come back to bite him in the ass. I really can't figure out why people keep letting him fuck up like that. Over and over.
Butch and Sundance is on. Man I love that movie. That's one of those movies where I'll watch it no matter when it's on, or on what channel. Commercials, edited, I don't care. If I just getting out of the shower, and it happens to be on, I'll sit bare-ass naked on the edge of the bed till its done.
Well, I obviously have nothing to say, so I'll go now.
We got a new car a few weeks ago, and I have to tell you, it wasn't a moment too soon. The crappy black Jeep with the bum door and the shitty air conditioning, would have killed both itself and Jennifer and probably Jackson with all the driving in the 100 degree heat Jen had to do this week. So kudos to the Xterra for being comfy and cool.
Big Jack is loving being a year old. It's a big milestone. He got to turn his carseat around to face front, he can eat nuts and strawberries with no fear of possible future allergies, the next level of Baby Einstein videos are at dis disposal, and we get cheaper rates for mommy's day out babysitting. He doesn't know it, but he's very excited. He tore into his little carrot cake with reckless abandon, and threw the singing candle on the ground for the dogs. I got him a t-shirt that reads: Mommy wants a new president. Fun stuff.
What else? I watched the entire first season of Arrested Development last night. That is some funny shit right there. They got all the right guest stars and everything. David Cross is hawesome, and this is Jeff Tambor's best work since the Larry Sanders Show. Thanks ever so to Cookie for lending it to us. He has a date tonight
Page two: The whole stem cell thing just really pissed me off. Jen too, given who she works for. They now have to send a bunch of that research out of the country, and that means more expense and Americans won't get the credit. And now his horrible foreign policy has come back to bite him in the ass. I really can't figure out why people keep letting him fuck up like that. Over and over.
Butch and Sundance is on. Man I love that movie. That's one of those movies where I'll watch it no matter when it's on, or on what channel. Commercials, edited, I don't care. If I just getting out of the shower, and it happens to be on, I'll sit bare-ass naked on the edge of the bed till its done.
Well, I obviously have nothing to say, so I'll go now.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
A letter to my son on his first birthday.
Dear Jackson,
What can I say? It has been a wonderful, terrifying year. You have become such a light in my life, I can't even describe it. A year ago today, as your mother lay in the hospital bed awaiting your arrival, I was nervous. Constantly wringing my hands and drinking massive amounts of Dr. Pepper, smoking like a chimney, and peeing every 3 minutes or so. I didn't eat or sleep. All of this due to my anxiety not about having a kid, because I was resigned to, and actually looking forward to that, but about being a father and about your mom's well being. She was in labor for a long long time, and when the doctor told us that you were just too big to come out, and that struggling to do so was taking it's toll, I got a new level of anxiety added on because now a major surgery was going to be involved. There is a lot that the father can't do during both the pregnancy and the birth. I felt a little helpless. I could not truly sympathize, and I couldn't really help. All I could do was watch. Boy did that change.
After the paper suit, the waiting in the hall for an eternity watching my own hair turn gray, the hot spots, the too much anesthetic, the extra big hole, the massive amounts of blood, the really weird man who kept going on about how he wears a different ball cap every day instead of concentrating on what he was doing, the doctors handed you to me. I didn't know what you were going to look like, but now I can't think of any other way that you could. I felt such amazing joy at seeing you, and such sheer terror at what they had done to my poor wife, that my brain shut down and I just stared at the wall for a while, just to make sure there was something concrete and real in the world. Then Jen asked to see you, and she touched you with such tenderness through the haze of drugs. Then they whisked me with you in my arms to the nursery, where I spent another long while watching them poke and prod you. Then they wrapped you up like a burrito and told me to take you to see your mom, who was sewn up, awake, and anxious to see you. For a few hours, all we really did was stare at you, amazed that you were actually there. We rocked you and fed you and I sung you songs by Belle and Sebastian when I thought nobody was watching.
The next few month were spent watching you sleep, and trying to keep you happy and healthy, and little bits of your personality started to creep out as you sopped up the world with those big blue eyes of yours. We started to find out things like how you love it when mommy dances her bad '80s dances and how you hate peas and how my glasses are still a mystery. You have become a very independent, happy, curious, bright-eyed little boy, and if you would only sleep through the night, so mommy and I could get some rest, you would be perfect + 1.
I used to not fear death. Not in a try anything, Xtreme sports kind of way, but in a way that if it happened, it happened. I wasn't scared to pass from one world to another. I was secure that the world would continue, and that things would eventually even out. I've never really told anybody that. But I'm telling you because now I am. You and your mother have put the fear of death in me in the best possible way. Now I think that if I went, I would truly be missing out on something.
We have changed jobs, moved to a new city, settled into a decidedly more small-town lifestyle, and I am loving every minute of it. My toy buying habit is a little more justified, and I have realized the usefulness of things like the internet, digital cable, drive-through coffee bars and chairs with straps. I live vicariously through you, remembering things that had been pushed aside by life, seeing them anew through your eyes. I am back to college levels of sleep without the drug habit to support it, and I don't care. Anything to keep you happy and healthy.
I love you, little man. Happy Birthday!
-Dad.
"I love you, I've a drowning grip on your adoring face
I love you, my responsibility has found a place..."
Pears
What can I say? It has been a wonderful, terrifying year. You have become such a light in my life, I can't even describe it. A year ago today, as your mother lay in the hospital bed awaiting your arrival, I was nervous. Constantly wringing my hands and drinking massive amounts of Dr. Pepper, smoking like a chimney, and peeing every 3 minutes or so. I didn't eat or sleep. All of this due to my anxiety not about having a kid, because I was resigned to, and actually looking forward to that, but about being a father and about your mom's well being. She was in labor for a long long time, and when the doctor told us that you were just too big to come out, and that struggling to do so was taking it's toll, I got a new level of anxiety added on because now a major surgery was going to be involved. There is a lot that the father can't do during both the pregnancy and the birth. I felt a little helpless. I could not truly sympathize, and I couldn't really help. All I could do was watch. Boy did that change.
After the paper suit, the waiting in the hall for an eternity watching my own hair turn gray, the hot spots, the too much anesthetic, the extra big hole, the massive amounts of blood, the really weird man who kept going on about how he wears a different ball cap every day instead of concentrating on what he was doing, the doctors handed you to me. I didn't know what you were going to look like, but now I can't think of any other way that you could. I felt such amazing joy at seeing you, and such sheer terror at what they had done to my poor wife, that my brain shut down and I just stared at the wall for a while, just to make sure there was something concrete and real in the world. Then Jen asked to see you, and she touched you with such tenderness through the haze of drugs. Then they whisked me with you in my arms to the nursery, where I spent another long while watching them poke and prod you. Then they wrapped you up like a burrito and told me to take you to see your mom, who was sewn up, awake, and anxious to see you. For a few hours, all we really did was stare at you, amazed that you were actually there. We rocked you and fed you and I sung you songs by Belle and Sebastian when I thought nobody was watching.
The next few month were spent watching you sleep, and trying to keep you happy and healthy, and little bits of your personality started to creep out as you sopped up the world with those big blue eyes of yours. We started to find out things like how you love it when mommy dances her bad '80s dances and how you hate peas and how my glasses are still a mystery. You have become a very independent, happy, curious, bright-eyed little boy, and if you would only sleep through the night, so mommy and I could get some rest, you would be perfect + 1.
I used to not fear death. Not in a try anything, Xtreme sports kind of way, but in a way that if it happened, it happened. I wasn't scared to pass from one world to another. I was secure that the world would continue, and that things would eventually even out. I've never really told anybody that. But I'm telling you because now I am. You and your mother have put the fear of death in me in the best possible way. Now I think that if I went, I would truly be missing out on something.
We have changed jobs, moved to a new city, settled into a decidedly more small-town lifestyle, and I am loving every minute of it. My toy buying habit is a little more justified, and I have realized the usefulness of things like the internet, digital cable, drive-through coffee bars and chairs with straps. I live vicariously through you, remembering things that had been pushed aside by life, seeing them anew through your eyes. I am back to college levels of sleep without the drug habit to support it, and I don't care. Anything to keep you happy and healthy.
I love you, little man. Happy Birthday!
-Dad.
"I love you, I've a drowning grip on your adoring face
I love you, my responsibility has found a place..."
Pears
Thursday, July 13, 2006
ugh.
Creepy sadness and a lot of thoughts on frugality.
Yesterday, Brian posted this very sweet message to his baby on his first birthday. I got all teared up because my kid turns a year old on Monday. Brian is a much better writer than I, and seemed to sum up a lot of very similar feelings that I had, only more succinctly. Then I find out last night that a girl I knew from the coffeeshop, whose husband went to high school with Jen was in a terrible accident, where her 5 year old kid was killed. Everybody else is okay, but the little brother is already asking about it. How does one deal with their own grief, and explain it to a little kid at the same time? This on the heels of another tragedy where a guy from work's 18 month old son drowned in the tub at the babysitter's.
Normally I wouldn't empathize that much, but having a kid of my own has changed my perspective on a lot of things that I hadn't really realized. I spent the first few months of his life just trying to keep him happy and fed. Now I realize that my main job is to keep him alive. I said before that 90% of parenting is surveillance and containment, the rest is engagement. I've stopped myself many times from making a big deal when he bonks his head or falls over (when minor) because getting knocked around a little bit is part of life. These things happen, and if I don't make a big deal out of it, neither will he. It seems to have worked so far. Jack is a happy, curious, mischievous kid, and seeing him figure out the world has been an awesome thing to watch. But he is indeed a fragile little thing, and there are any number of outside influences that can harm him. What the fuck am I supposed to do about that? I can't put him in a baby sized gerbil ball, or keep him locked up in the house because that's no way to live. I want him to see as much of the world as possible, and I guess I just need to come to terms with the fact that shit happens. That doesn't mean I can't take precautions, but I can't freak out either, like those women you see in the grocery store that dip their kid's toy in bleach every time they drop it on the floor. That just makes the kid scared of the world, and too timid to venture out in it on their own. I guess a balance will naturally reveal itself, and I should just embrace that.
I do love that little weirdo.
Yesterday, Brian posted this very sweet message to his baby on his first birthday. I got all teared up because my kid turns a year old on Monday. Brian is a much better writer than I, and seemed to sum up a lot of very similar feelings that I had, only more succinctly. Then I find out last night that a girl I knew from the coffeeshop, whose husband went to high school with Jen was in a terrible accident, where her 5 year old kid was killed. Everybody else is okay, but the little brother is already asking about it. How does one deal with their own grief, and explain it to a little kid at the same time? This on the heels of another tragedy where a guy from work's 18 month old son drowned in the tub at the babysitter's.
Normally I wouldn't empathize that much, but having a kid of my own has changed my perspective on a lot of things that I hadn't really realized. I spent the first few months of his life just trying to keep him happy and fed. Now I realize that my main job is to keep him alive. I said before that 90% of parenting is surveillance and containment, the rest is engagement. I've stopped myself many times from making a big deal when he bonks his head or falls over (when minor) because getting knocked around a little bit is part of life. These things happen, and if I don't make a big deal out of it, neither will he. It seems to have worked so far. Jack is a happy, curious, mischievous kid, and seeing him figure out the world has been an awesome thing to watch. But he is indeed a fragile little thing, and there are any number of outside influences that can harm him. What the fuck am I supposed to do about that? I can't put him in a baby sized gerbil ball, or keep him locked up in the house because that's no way to live. I want him to see as much of the world as possible, and I guess I just need to come to terms with the fact that shit happens. That doesn't mean I can't take precautions, but I can't freak out either, like those women you see in the grocery store that dip their kid's toy in bleach every time they drop it on the floor. That just makes the kid scared of the world, and too timid to venture out in it on their own. I guess a balance will naturally reveal itself, and I should just embrace that.
I do love that little weirdo.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
It's Like Looking into the Future..
HAHA!---->
Anyhoo... We are about to go eat chili at cousin Ryan's. friday we went out to see a guy Jen went to high school with play some art-school ambient music. I like ambient music, but I prefer it to be ambient. Just sort of in the background. Something you don't have to think about while you are doing more important things. All this I realized while watching a bunch of it being performed live, which can be the musical equivalent of watching paint dry. Maybe these guys (there were 4 bands) just weren't any good. Perhaps it can be entertaining, but this really wasn't. I do have to say that I had a great time anyway, mainly because of the awesome group of people I was with. Jens parents came up to Stilly and stayed the night so we could go to the OKC for the shin dig. About 10 of us showed up, and since the music was so gawd-awful, we just drank and chatted. Then we hit ihop at 2:00am, and I don't need to tell you how entertaining that can be. Especially since all the bands showed up about a half an hour after we did.
In other news, we bought a new car. The old beat up black Jeep Cherokee will be sold tomorrow to a very nice little emo girl named Stormy. She is hella excited, and we are glad that it sold in one day. We have purchased a 2000 Nissan XTerrea, with 48k miles on it for a song. I'm serious. We got a screaming deal.
okay. Time to go eat chili.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Things blowing up in the sky
So it rained like crazy all day Tuesday. We went to Cookie's parent's for 4th celebrating, and had a wonderful time. Turned out that the fireworks display in Stilly was canceled, so they moved it to last night, so we went to that with Cousin Ryan and his very skittish Bassett hound Roscoe. We sat on the bank by the spillway at boomer lake, and were pretty close. Closer than I have ever been to a fireworks display, other that the one in my bedroom when I was 14 that sent me to the emergency room.*
Jackson loved it. Things blowing up in the sky is always a fave among small boys, BTW. He would point up at them, very Lenin-like and go "ooh ooh", like he was giving a speech. Speechifyin' is him new deal for some reason. He does it all the time. Roscoe took the most giantest dump ever. I guess the show literally scared the shit out of him.
Tonight Cousin Ryan and I are going to go see the new Pirate movie. I am actually more excited to see this than I was for Superman or X3. Both of which were vaguely disappointing. The Pirate movie seems a little safer. They should have a pretty hard time screwing it up, since there isn't all the history and expectations that a super-hero movie has. Speaking of which, the new Spider-man trailer is awesome. This one will see a bit of a departure, and I'm worried about that. The first two had plot points that were (however far-fetched) explained by science or nature. This one has the potential to go into either the super-natural, or into space. Both of these are harder to suspend disbelief with. I can believe all day long that Spider-man got his powers from a genetically engineered spider, but Venom getting his from a symbiotic space creature is something else. At least in the movies. It's fine for the comics, but when you put a real human's face to the character, then that reality needs to extend to the rest of the film. The first two X-Men films did this brilliantly, and I hope Spidey doesn't jump the shark with this one.
* I remember having on a Sisters Of Mercy T-shirt, and the ER doc saying: "Hey, I used to work a Mercy Hospital!"
Jackson loved it. Things blowing up in the sky is always a fave among small boys, BTW. He would point up at them, very Lenin-like and go "ooh ooh", like he was giving a speech. Speechifyin' is him new deal for some reason. He does it all the time. Roscoe took the most giantest dump ever. I guess the show literally scared the shit out of him.
Tonight Cousin Ryan and I are going to go see the new Pirate movie. I am actually more excited to see this than I was for Superman or X3. Both of which were vaguely disappointing. The Pirate movie seems a little safer. They should have a pretty hard time screwing it up, since there isn't all the history and expectations that a super-hero movie has. Speaking of which, the new Spider-man trailer is awesome. This one will see a bit of a departure, and I'm worried about that. The first two had plot points that were (however far-fetched) explained by science or nature. This one has the potential to go into either the super-natural, or into space. Both of these are harder to suspend disbelief with. I can believe all day long that Spider-man got his powers from a genetically engineered spider, but Venom getting his from a symbiotic space creature is something else. At least in the movies. It's fine for the comics, but when you put a real human's face to the character, then that reality needs to extend to the rest of the film. The first two X-Men films did this brilliantly, and I hope Spidey doesn't jump the shark with this one.
* I remember having on a Sisters Of Mercy T-shirt, and the ER doc saying: "Hey, I used to work a Mercy Hospital!"
Monday, July 03, 2006
Wacky Weekend Fun
So this is cool. After I entered a contest at Scary Go Round, John Allison posted all of the submissions on his website. I didn't win, but I made the top ten, and he seemed to like it.
I hope I get some hits on my site from it. My big dream is to just do a web comic, and to sell t-shirts and stickers and things to pay the bills. I doubt this will ever happen, but I can dream, dammit!
I went to Craig and Heather's wedding this weekend, and I have to say that it was one of the most enjoyable that I have ever been to. I was honored to stand with Craig as a groomsman. If you ever want to see what true love looks like, spend a little while with these two, because they have it down.
Yesterday, as promised, was Cookie day, and we had a fab time. I made him watch 8 hours of Spaced, deep into the night, and we both felt it was worth it.
Today we went to breakfast, had some coffee, visited a head shop, and sent Cookie packing, so he could feed his rather sizeable cat. I think we may drive up there tomorrow to watch some things explode in the sky.
I hope I get some hits on my site from it. My big dream is to just do a web comic, and to sell t-shirts and stickers and things to pay the bills. I doubt this will ever happen, but I can dream, dammit!
I went to Craig and Heather's wedding this weekend, and I have to say that it was one of the most enjoyable that I have ever been to. I was honored to stand with Craig as a groomsman. If you ever want to see what true love looks like, spend a little while with these two, because they have it down.
Yesterday, as promised, was Cookie day, and we had a fab time. I made him watch 8 hours of Spaced, deep into the night, and we both felt it was worth it.
Today we went to breakfast, had some coffee, visited a head shop, and sent Cookie packing, so he could feed his rather sizeable cat. I think we may drive up there tomorrow to watch some things explode in the sky.
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