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Today was a pretty lazy day...I didn't do much of anything until about 2:30 when I had to go to film class and watch Red Sorghum . It's a very good film, very good. Definitely one to add to your list, if you haven't seen it already.

On the love front...I'm supposed to be getting set up with a girl from my friend Ferg's building. His roomate has a class with this girl and I've been told she thinks I'm cute...I don't know about it though. I've been giving them hell about getting to meet her, but now I'm not so sure. I think it's one of those things that you want to do it, and you talk about doing it, but you know it probably won't happen, so you don't really think about it.

And it's not really that I don't want to meet her...it's just that it's been built up so much that I have this picture in my head of how things are gonna go, or how I want them to go, anyway...and I know it never happens that way. I can't go in there expecting anything, because if I do, I'll be dissapointed when it doesn't happen. It's kind of a paradox. I want to meet her, but at the same time, I don't want to, because it just fucks with me to think about it. And now with this "meeting" looming in my mind, I'm thinking about it more than ever.

In lighter news, I've also been talking to some girls online. I don't really know how I feel about meeting people online, but I guess I'm giving it a shot. So far, everyone I've talked to has been cool. But I find that it's always that way until you talk for a while, then there's nothing else really to talk about. I don't want to lose interest, but I don't wanna get "involved" with someone that I've never met in person...so, for now, I'm just feeling it out, letting things go how they go...I'm letting the pieces fall where they may.

I've got an interview for "webmaster" of SPC-TV tonight. It's an executive position in which I will be granted: a) late night access to the station; b) keys to the station; c) a say in what goes on there. And all I have to do is make the webpage better...no problem. Right now, it looks like a really good, mid-90's home page...hopefully I can make it better!

I've decided that if I don't post in a long time, I'm not gonna start the next post by making excuses about it. I like to do it, but I just never have the time or ambition. I dunno...maybe it's just that I'm so fucking busy all the time that blogging just doesn't enter my mind at all.

For the last month or so, I've been cheating death on a regular basis...I've been parking on campus with an illegal sticker. It's like drugs, man...you do it once, you wanna do it again and again. I did it once because I would've been late otherwise, and I didn't feel like speed walking all the way across campus* at 8 in the morning, so I drove. I have what is called a "white" sticker, which means I can park in dorm parking lots, but not on campus lots by the lecture halls and buildings. If you know anyone that goes to SIU-C, you know that parking is a major bitch around here. The parking people are sticker nazis, and the puppy patrol* are ticket nazis. I got a ticket the day I had to change my license sticker because it was expired...but I hadn't driven my car anywhere...at al. It's like a cop coming into your driveway and giving you a ticket for a car that hasn't been used in 3 years*.

Speaking of police in Carbondale, the police here have beaten a man who resisted arrest, and now it's become a race issue. I in no way whatsoever endorse police brutality, but there are always two sides to the story...read it, and see what you think...here is the student's story , and here is the cops' story .

The Alvin Awards are tomorrow for the show . I'm anxious to see if we win anything.

I get to present an award, too. I'm presenting for Best Actress and Best Promo. We have to write our own little speeches when we announce the awards, and I think I've got a pretty good idea for Best Actress:

She was a fast machine
She kept her motor clean
She was the best damn actress that I'd ever seen

Whaddaya think?

My dad is coming down to visit me for the first time ever on Saturday. The only reason he is coming is to take some of my shit back home. I wish he would've came down a little bit this year. I dunno, maybe he's busy...

The Hoplites, Vehicle, Boro City Rollers, and Big Fat Nothing played in front of the Shryock Auditorium today for WIDB's 31st anniversary. Pretty cool. The Hoplites are a girl indie rock band from Carbondale, all cute, especially the drummer. Not to mention a very, very, very good indie rock band. It's a damn shame that their time is limited. They are breaking up at the end of the semester. All going seperate ways, apparently.

Vehicle, a damn good, Sonic Youth-y, type band. Very loud and noisy. I love it.

But I like the Hoplites better, heh. Maybe it's because they're cute.

Joey Ramone died. It's a sad day for punk rock. I saw it last night on MTV News of all places. They didn't really have much of a story, other than he died of cancer that he'd been fighting for years...kinda sad....

Shortbus is almost done. In fact, it will be done this afternoon and will air tonight at 10 pm central standard time. Of course, only people who live in the dorms here at SIU-C can see it, so there's no real reason to tell you...heh.

I am currently applying for a position at SPC-TV. I will be an executive there, a person who actually has something to do with the station and that has some sort of responsibilities. I am going to be webmaster. This means I get to update the website, which sucks, by the way, and make pages for all the shows. Sounds like a barrel of fun. Actually, I'm surprised that this position isn't actually filled. You figure that with all the techies up there at a TV station, there'd be one who could actually do a website. Apparently not.

The past month was hectic, and this month hasn't been any better. I've got so many projects and papers to do, plus a final film to get done. And I'm running out of time to do it in. It's a shitty thing, let me tell ya...blogging here has been moved down, down, down on the list. But I'm working on it, trust me.

Last weekend was pretty crazy. Friday night, I went over to my buddy Ferg's place (usually I link his blog, but he hasn't posted in over a month...I think it's done with...) and we were drinking. My roommate Ryan and his girlfriend Angie were there, and Ferg's roommate and his sister, and some of her friends from U of I. Neighbor Chris went with me over there. Chris and I walked in, met everyone, said our hello's, then struggled to find a seat...we were in a dorm room, mind you. No sooner do I crack open a beer when there is a knock on the door. People had been going in and out all night, so Ferg just said, "yeah, come on in" and he did. He was a big fellow, not tall, but pretty thick. He was wearing standard SIU maroon. He was an RA. Not only that, but the Head RA* of the building complex. He came in a just took charge. He took all of our ID's, and he made us bag up all the beer and give it to him. He did not, however, give us jaders, because there were too many people that didn't go to SIU-C there, and that meant more paper work for him...lazy bastard.

After that fiasco, Chris and I came back to our building, where the "beer flows like wine*", and watched a DVD and ordered pizza while everyone else went out...Chris and I could only handle one bust a night...

The next day, I learned that the asshole who stole our beer put it in the dumpster, but came back later and took it. Well, the joke's on you, Mr. RA, because half of the beer you stole was skunky, really, really, old stuff. Old like from the beginning of the semester. So, that's your punishment for being a bastard.

The same day I learned of the thieving RA, I ripped my toenail off of my little toe. It frickin' hurts like a mo'fo', let me tell ya. If you've ever ripped a toenail completely off, you know. If you haven't, pray that it never happens. Imagine cutting your fingernails too close, the pain for a day or two...the discomfort. Now, take that and multiply it by about 7,000,000...that's what I feel right now. I can hardly walk, putting on shoes sucks ass, the only thing to help it is being barefoot, which got me into this in the first place.

I was smoking a cigarette outside, because it's been frickin' hot and humid down here for the past week...still is...and I was barefoot. There was some cute girls from my building kicking a soccer ball around, and I used to be quite a formidable soccer opponent, so I started kicking it around with them. Then I started trying to keep it away from them. I started running around, doing quite well, keeping it away, pulling out some of the moves from my old bag of tricks. Suddenly, one of the girls yells, "you're bleeding", and I look down, an lo and behold, I am. Toenail, gone. Toe, gushing blood. Me, feeling stupid. I cleaned it out and limped around for the rest of the day, until I went to Waggle's.

I go to Waggle's* every Saturday, usually with Clint, but he had gone home for the weekend, so I went by myself. I went earlier than usual, about 10:30. There was about 15 people there...the regulars. The previous weekend, it had been packed at this time, so I was surprised. But, I was fine with it, too, cos I didn't want to have to wait for a beer and I could actually talk to some of my friends that were there. It didn't start to get full until about 12:30. Then it got packed. There were a lot of girls there, too. And, I was so drunk, I hit on every single one. I don't remember most of my pickup lines, but I do remember my most clever approach.

There was an unbelievable looking girl sitting on the couch, all alone. Through the course of the night, I had seen nearly every guy hit on her, and I had seen her get quite annoyed. So I went for a different approach. Not the "hey, baby, blah blah blah" but a smoother, more thought out plan. Well, at least I thought it was. I sat down beside her, and I didn't look at her. I just drank my beer and smoked my cigarette. Then I looked at her, just when I knew she was looking, and then looked away real quick. This was all part of the plan, see. Then, I just turned and said:

Me: Hi...I just want you to know I'm not hitting on you...I'm just here to drink my beer and smoke my cigarette.

Her: Oh...okay...(sounding almost confused...heh)

Me: Yeah, I mean, I've seen every guy here hit on you tonight, and I want you to know, that's not my plan...

Her: Oh...well, what's your name?

Me: Mike...(watch as I turn away and don't ask for her name)

Her: My name's Dana...(reaches her hand out)...nice to meet you.

Me(in like Flynn): The pleasure is all mine...

And this went on for a bit. We talked, mostly normal stuff, what's your major, were do you live, that stuff...but the trick was, I got her to ask me all the questions. I didn't ask her one question. That's the problem with most pickup lines...you have to keep on asking them questions to keep their attention. When they ask you the questions, you've turned it all around...that's how I see it, anyway.*

But nothing came of it, and I went home and fell asleep, but not after puking out my guts. And that's about it...Sunday was spent nursing my hangover, and doing nothing else, except for a little laundry...my story ends uneventful...

Shortbus Pioneers is still not off the ground because of the SPC computers. ARGH!!!!!!

Yes, it's seems like I've been talking alot about our show lately. Well, there's a reason for that...this show has been 90 percent of my life for the past month. So much that I have neglected my blogging duties. For that, I am sorry. I will try to work on that.

I just read Arvid's latest post...it seems we've got a similar thing going on here. My roommate collects beer bottlecaps every time we go out drinking, and my friend Ray was going to start to do the same, so he stole all of Ryan's bottlecaps and left a little note...then Ryan stole them back, and Ray stole them back, blah, blah...on and on...then Ryan pulled a fast one and hid them quite well so no one could steal them. Well, the next time we were drinking, we got Ryan real drunk and had him tell us where they were. Later, after he had sobered up, we told him what he did, and he didn't believe us...it was pretty funny, I guess.

I've been going on this weird ass sleep pattern lately. I'll get a lot of sleep one night, then stay up all night the next. I'm really tired right now, but last night I went to bed at 8 o'clock. But, then again, I could be tired from the 8 o'clock class I had this morning. And now it's 1:30 in the morning...argh! I've got to get some sleep.

I'm thinking about switching my major from film back to radio/television. It's cheaper and basically the same thing, except for you shoot on tape, instead of film...that, and you don't get to be as creative as you get to be in film...except for the fact that my current film teacher is an idea Nazi and shoots everything down as soon as it's muttered in class.

So, I just spent a grueling 8 hour editing session down in the bowels of the communications building. I was in there with Logan, a friend of mine from film class, and we were talking about some of the bullshit that goes on in the department. We talked about how cheap the department is, and how crappy all the equipment is...all while we were editing on a film viewer/splicer that could be rivaled by a light bulb, a magnifying glass and a razor blade. That's pretty much all it is, although a bit more glorified. Imagine the oldest thing in your garage, that one thing that just sits there and no one knows what it does, but it still remains there to this day, taking up space and accumulating rust, dust, and cobwebs...that's what the film department's equipment is.

I've got to go to bed...my back is killing me because they made those editors back in the 50's, I'm sure, when the average male height was 5'4"...I'm gaining more and more of a hunchback the more I stay there...