Stupid Romantic Movie Night Xtina and I went to see Win a Date with Tad Hamilton. Yeah, yeah, yeah I know it's incredibly cheesy and disgustingly sugary (and I don't mean in a gastronomical way...that would be gross), but I like watching girly-girl flicks every now and then. I just need to see the "nice guy" get the girl. In my movies the nice guy always loses out to arrogant-British-asshole guy or skateboarding-drug-dealer punk. Perhaps I should get into screenwriting. There must be a market for movies where the nice guy totally loses. I can draw from my countless romantic misadventures for source material.

Battlin' Last week was difficult. I fought off a cold, sadness, and a tremendous temptation. I overcame two of the three. Going down that path would have regressed my life considerably, so it's (really) good that I didn't go there...even if there is love there. Oh, I had a Chicken and Waffles gathering. Roscoe's better watch out.

Unchained Melodic Weekend My weekend in San Francisco didn't turn out like I thought it would, but it was mostly fun. I originally planned the trip because I wanted to see Sandra...but then I didn't think I'd get to see her...but then I did. So it was an interesting weekend of my favorite SF eats, karaoke, unexpected company, Farley's (natch), and the continual breaking of my heart (okay, maybe that was a tad dramatic). Friday I wanted to hang out with Sandra, but that didn't happen. I ended up having dinner with Tammy at Arinel's, my favorite pizza place in SF. It was nice catching up and hanging out at her place. After that I went to Farley's to see Heidi. Rannie and Kristina caught up with me, and we soon left to catch up with James, Jennie, Jarik, Kyoko, Sonia, Sonia's brother and Shiba-san (Drakengard). We went to Fluid, which was really cool save for the eight-dollar shots. I got drunk (surprise!) and people said Sonia's brother tried to kiss me, though I don't recall that at all. I think I was playing grab ass with Shiba, breaking down any language barrier that might have existed between us. Then we all went to Dragon Bar and I got even drunker. By some miracle of Zeus, I ended up back at my hotel. Though perhaps it was really a cab and not divine Greek intervention. I got sick and passed out. Saturday I slept until 1:30, went to the gym, and hung out in the hot tub for a spell. By the time I was done, Ryan and Carlos were in town. I took them to Azteca, my favorite taqueria in SF. Then it was time for Rannie's Karaoke Birthday Bash. Since I'm a giant goofball, karaoke is a favorite past time of mine. I think everyone had a good time and it made me happy to make Rannie happy. I wasn't expecting Sandra to go, but she did. My heart totally skipped when she walked into the room and I really wasn't sure how to act. After a while I stopped thinking about how I should be around her and said hello to Mr. Vodka. As karaoke time came to a close, I went out for a cigarette. Sandra marched up the stairs with all her stuff, but she didn't know where she was going. So I offered to take care of her and we took a cab to my hotel. Thankfully Carlos hung on to my bag and shades. [aside] Around a year ago I abruptly left to take care of a girl in Las Vegas. I was hanging with Justin, Kid, and Ara when Kitten drunk called me and said she wanted to see me. With 20 dollars in the video-poker machine and my gym bag on the ground, I just stormed out on the boys to take care of Kitten. Justin was rather irked, but was nice enough to hold on to my gear. I guess the point is that I get a similar feeling when I'm around Sandra--I know she can take care of herself, but I want nothing more than to please her. [/aside] Anyway, I tried to make sure Sandra was comfortable. After tucking her in I made like eight drunk calls. (I really need to lock my phone with a code I can't possibly remember when I'm inebriated.) I woke up and got her some juice and pastries for breakfast. Then we just vegged in bed and watched TV (portions of Maid in Manhattan, The Devil's Advocate, bowling, speed skating, and billiards). We had a late lunch at Max's--my favorite SF diner--and parted ways. I caught up with Ryan, Carlos, and Ricky at Farley's before flying home. By design, I've cleverly recapped my weekend in a spectacularly uninteresting way, hoping that you wouldn't make it this far down the entry--the point where I talk about all the stuff swimming in my head. If you've made it this far, then I commend you for your patience...or laugh at how bored you must be to still be reading. So I got to do what I wanted to do after all. I find her company so intoxicating, and it doesn't matter what we're doing. I'm perfectly happy taking care of her, listening to her voice, playing around with her, watching her eat (and wow can she eat!), learning about her siblings, hearing her random thoughts, sharing a smoke with her, trying to stare at her face in a way that she won't notice--it really doesn't matter. I'm just incredibly fond of her company. And I'm truly happy I got to spend time with her. That's all I wanted. And yes, I can hear what some of the Raymond theorists are saying right about now, but it's not true. I am not falling for her more because she has a boyfriend again. She just steals a little more of my heart every second I'm with her. And yes, I'm conflicted because I want so much to tell her how I feel, but I also want to respect her relationship. She seems happy and that's all I wish for her...well that and I wish she understood what a beautiful being she is. So I guess the weekend was very happy/sad (Pizzicato 5). I had fun and I got to spend time with Sandra, though I am sad that I can't be be what she wants or needs. To the people that worry about me: don't. I'm used to things working out this way and it's nothing I can't handle. I'll deal.

It hasn't... ...been my day, my month, or even my year. It reminds me of this day in high school. I had this killer migraine that was bothering me the whole day. After school, I had a big tennis match against a highly ranked player. I couldn't do much on the court with my head trying to explode. All of the sudden, I take a bad step and turn my ankle. It hurt so badly that my headache totally disappeared. Oh, and I lost the match. All that crap last week with Mark is totally gone from my mind, replaced with something that truly saddens me. And I lost the match. On the plus side, I imagine it's all uphill from here and I have these cool lesbian pictures from my last trip to San Francisco.

Drunken Phone Calls Unlike my last dozen or so drunken phone calls (DPCs), I was fully aware of what I was doing. Unfortunately, it might have been the worst DPC I've made in my life. She's really happy. And that's wonderful. Except she's really happy because she's back with her boyfriend. And while that's fantastic for her, it just sucks for me. Wait for it... ...and all the pieces of my life are falling right into place! So I quickly drank five bottles--of assorted things, I can't really recall--from the mini-bar and called Rannie. I'm really hoping I hallucinated all of this and that when I wake up none of it will have actually happened. This entry took half an hour to type because I kept finding mistakes. Hopefully they're all gone.

Un-Vegas Two drinks, no gambling, and lots of work over six days.... Tradeshows sure take the fun out of Las Vegas. Actually, it could have been worse, but covering CES was far more tiring than it should have been. The company didn't get me a hotel with broadband, so my crew trekked to Kinko's/Starbuck's every night to work. As a lovely prelude to the show, one of our executives implied that I didn't need to be at CES that long and I was there to hang out and party. That was total bullshit; all the tradeshow coverage I've done in the past has been solid and this year was no exception. Considering the poor working conditions I was given, I'm really proud of everything that I wrote, edited, and managed. I'd like to pay for the legal costs so that the aforementioned executive can change his name to DICK (all caps). By the end of the show I was tired and moody. I actually went off on The Kid twice. The first time he kind of deserved it, but the second time was all me. I still feel really bad that I laid into him the way I did. My temper got so nasty that I actually scared myself for a bit. Still, it was fortunate that Jon was there to keep things goofy, Justin was there to keep me from behaving badly, and Jennie was around to keep things funny with her ever-present laughter. I might have really lost it without them. Oh well, I'm off to San Francisco for an Atari event and some television stuff. I get back home on Wednesday night and go back for the weekend. Hopefully I'll get to see the person I want to see, though I'm not sure if she wants to spend time with me. And to make my life seem comparatively pathetic, Garvey found a girlfriend. Ouch.

Independent Domesticity For most of the weekend I was in a pretty dour mood. I really didn't want to do much, so I cooked a lot (not necessarily eating what I cooked) and went to the gym a lot. The good news is that my body is ready for two-a-day workouts, which is likely to be a regular thing in the distant future since I'm covering CES with Justin. The bad news is that I'm slipping into that dark place where I don't feel good about anything and don't really want to be around anybody (except you Steve...naturally). It's just a combination of girl stuff, second guessing career moves, being bummed Raina didn't have time to see me when she was out west, missing my family, missing friends in SF/NY/MN, the unusually cold weather, and girl stuff. It didn't help that I saw two indie flicks over the weekend. On Friday, Steve, Ryan, Matt, and I saw The Cooler. It's a really somber Vegas movie that totally romanticized -- for me anyway -- the idea of giving up all my dreams and wasting away in Vegas (yes, I know that wasn't the point of the movie but that's what I came away with). I probably enjoyed it the most out of the four of us since I've spent so much time in Vegas. I dunno...I love being a dreamer, but sometimes it's really hard. Sunday night the four of us caught the last showing of Lost in Translation. It's my second time seeing it, but this time around I wasn't in the proper mindset. I empathized (aided by my vivid imagination) with Bill Murray's character way too much. Lately, I have felt kind of pointless and have questioned if anything in my life is going right. Unlike the movie, I find the possibility of making a true and deep connection with a woman an impossibility (even if I do flee to Japan in February). Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it seems like I'm looking for ways to be sad and using these movies to deepen whatever rut I'm in. I can't help it. Luckily, I caught up with Jennie after the movie. It was great being there for her when she needed someone to talk to. I really didn't intend to get into what's going on in my head, but there's a part of it she'd understand more than anyone else I know. It was tremendous to be able to share those feelings with someone that knew the person involved. She knows, even better than I do, how wonderful this girl is. So while I'm still decidedly lugubrious, Jennie helped shine a little light into my bitter barn. Thanks for that. It might have gotten really ugly if you didn't call when you did.

H-B-Ray Carlos and Matt threw a splendid new year's party. Unlike my recent drunken exploits, I actually remember most of what happened. - I had at least 12 shots and a large cup of Veuve. My reward was a spectacular headache the next morning. - At one point, I thought I was "The Hearbreak Kid" (HBK) Shawn Michaels. I even tuned up the band and tried to give someone Sweet Chin Music. The kick must have been pretty high since my groin feels stretched. - Cookie ended up driving me home since I was in no condition to go to IHOP with him, Steve, Carlos, and Ben. - I made an Aragorn speech on the porch. - I wore my new Nat Nast shirt. Nat Nast has supplanted Miu Miu as my monthly fave. - I proclaimed that I am to be Ryan's pimp when we move to San Francisco. - I made two drunken phone calls (though I only remember one). - The one thing I totally didn't remember was Zena. Steve mentioned that I was hitting on some (engaged) girl that wandered into the party. He (drunkenly) thought I was being slick, which probably means I was smooth as gravel. I may or may not have tried to kiss her. Since I don't remember it, it didn't happen. Ha! Oh well, enjoy the pics.