Apologies to my DVDs

To Firefly, The Complete Series, I'm sorry I haven't gotten passed your first disc. Hot Fuzz and Heroes: Season 1 were just demanding too much of my attention.

To Sleepy Hollow, so sorry I forgot about you those five years you were over at Mary's house. If it's any consolation, it's good to have you back.

To The Godfather Part II, I'm so sorry that the first Godfather is getting played so much more than you. But you gotta give me a little bit of a break, here. After all, you're 25 minutes longer, half of you is in Italian and I have a short attention span. You do look so impressive on the shelf, though. People have commented that they'd like to borrow you someday, but they just haven't gotten around to asking for you yet. I'll make you a deal: One day, I'll get Godfather III and it'll make you feel better, because that piece of shit wouldn't even make it out of the cellophane wrapper. At least then, you could brag about being played more than the DVD next to you.

To Sex, Lies & Videotape, I hope one day my taste for the early works of Steven Soderbergh comes back, so that I could bring myself to watch you again.

To Gladiator, sorry I let you get so scratched up. I'll try to be more careful in the future.

To 12 Monkeys, I'm sorry that I've become a different person since I first saw you. You haven't changed a bit. You've still got the great bat-shit crazy Brad Pitt moments and the great art direction. However, I have changed. I'm just never in the mood for a twisted piece of mind-fuck as I used to be. Sure, you could argue that I still watch Brazil, another Terry Gilliam film depicting a bleak future, but it at least still makes me laugh. I hate to say it, but every time I watch you, I immediately want to wash my hands for about an hour. Like I said, it's not you, it's me. Sorry.

To Road To Perdition, I can't for the life of me remember what happened to you. Did I lend you out to someone? Did I sell you at some point? Lose you in the move? Just know I often think of you and wonder where you are.

To CSI: Season 1, I'm sorry, but I'm probably not gonna be able to bring myself to watch you again, for a variety of reasons. First of all, I see your episodes all the time on Spike TV. Secondly, your show really didn't hit it's stride until season 2. Third, I bought you used at a garage sale, and a couple of your discs are scratched to the point that it's too unnerving to watch them anymore. Fourth, I pretty much bought you to complete the set. I could go on, but I think you get the point. Tell you what, I'll set you on the shelf next to Godfather II so you guys can at least have company.

To The Back To The Future Trilogy. It just didn't work out. I already had you memorized forwards and backwards, so buying you was kinda superfluous. But you gotta accept some responsibility in your departure. Your special features sucked, as did your commentary tracks, and would it have killed you to have told me somewhere on your packaging that you were full screen? I know my standards are high in that regards, but I was expecting widescreen. And don't come bitching to me about how Crash is full screen and it got to stay. First off, that DVD was given to me. Also, that movie really doesn't benefit from a wider aspect ratio because it's a dialogue-heavy drama. You're sci-fi. You should've known better.

To Batman Begins and Blade Runner, I know we've had some great times together, but as soon as those new special deluxe editions come out, you guys are outta here.

Everyone else, keep up the good work!

Small steps towards big changes

Things have cooled down at work a bit. Partly because my boss has readjusted to being back at work after his vacation last week, and partly because we're heading into Labor Day weekend. Still, I've been going home at night wanting to avoid any human contact so I don't take my frustrations out on other people.

I've been preparing myself for a lot of things this past week. I'm planning to give up smoking on Saturday, so I've been trying to smoke less and savor each cigarette while I can. I've also been getting myself in the habit of eating at home with each meal, to try and save money first and foremost, but also to detox my body from all the shit I've eaten from the drive thru. I've also gone four days with my soda consumption cut to a third of my normal input, substituting it for green tea and water. I've just reached a point that I need to purge the toxins from my body as best I can...to treat my body like a temple rather than just an occasional house of worship, observing only the major holidays.

Also, I'm moving forward on a new creative project. I'm gonna try to organize an art exhibit of local artists, myself included. I have the perfect gallery space in mind, but I haven't been able to get the owner on the phone. I sent an email, she left me a message, I've left messages, but haven't been able to make contact. Once I do, and can get the particulars (cost, availability, etc.), I can move forward on the planning. In the meantime, I'm working on my piece for this show's theme. I'll post more as it develops.

Why did I decide to do this? I've felt that my creative work here lately, even though it's been good and not lacking in the oomph department, a little lackluster. Creatively, I've felt that I've been phoning it in; doing just enough to slightly exceed the clients' expectations, but all the while knowing that I'm capable of doing much, much more. I need to give myself a swift kick in the ass and inspire myself. And I'm not the shiftless kind of guy I was when I got into this business, so I felt the best course of action is to set a solid goal and give it all I got.

Onward and upward, I guess.

Rough Day

It's somewhat fitting that since Friday is to be my last day as a smoker, that today I'm reminded of one of the reasons I smoke: to be able to go outside several times a day away from whatever is stressing me out at the moment.

And did I ever need to escape. My boss returned from vacation today, and despite my best efforts to avoid his blood pressure spiking to Incredible Hulk levels, nearly everything fell apart. It's like I parked my car at the top of the mountain, stepped out to enjoy the view, and as soon as I could realize I forgot to set the parking brake, the car started rolling towards the cliff. There was no time to jump back in and stop the car in time. Al I could do is watch the car careen off the edge and crash in the valley. Then burst into flames. Then catch the mountainside on fire. Then cause a rockslide. I spent the rest of the day digging myself out from a pile of rocks.

Any given work day, I have a decompression period I must have to purge all of the bullshit I go through during the day. Most days, all it takes is a good episode of the Simpsons. Days like today, however, require something with a little more kick. I made myself a ultra-rare steak, washed it down with a couple of Guinnesses, and skipped through three DVDs, only to watch the most violent scenes. Braveheart, Gladiator, and Saving Private Ryan. I was calming down a bit after those three, but I've had worse days where I also have to throw in Fight Club for good measure. It's times like these when I really regret selling my copy of Black Hawk Down.

Monday Night Caption Contest

Post your captions in the comment section below.

Here are mine for the week:

1. I imagine this is what my boss does at home to "mellow out".

2. "Sir, the D.A. only asked you to show us on the doll where he touched you, not how. Oh, what the hell...just get it out of your system."


Last week's winner will be announced next Monday.


August 13th's winner is CleverName with the caption: "She thought it would be fun to show up at the costume party dressed as Eve, but one too many Forbidden Appletinis and..."

Hard work rewarded by a stay of execution

The big project I'm working on has had me tied up in knots the past couple of days. I've been trying to spend every on-the-clock moment working on it to get something ready for the client by the end of the day. When he dropped by four hours early to take a look at a proof, I was only 80% done, and had nothing printed out for him to look over. The dark cloud and the silver lining of this situation is he won't be able to be back to look at a proof until Monday morning. Good for me, because I can take my time to some extent getting everything ready. Bad for me because we'll be in a production rush to meet the deadline next week.

This project came with practically no warning, and jumped to the front of the line. So, not only have I been hard pressed to get the project done, I've had to try to smooth things over with the other clients whose work I've had to delay. I've managed to be diplomatic in almost every case, but there have been a couple times where the veins in my temples said more than words ever could.

Oh, well...a few weekend hours and everything will be right as rain again.

I worked a little overtime tonight, but soon tired of looking at a computer screen. I decided to treat myself to some take-out. I went into the restaurant, placed my to-go order, abused my complimentary beverage privileges, and waited for my food. The guy who ordered directly after me got his food and left. Then, the lady after him got her food and left. Something was off, here.

Two more people after me got their food before the manager noticed that I was still there. I was in no rush, nor was I starving, so I felt no need to raise a stink over it. I didn't need to, because it was at this time that the manager apologized profusely that my order ticket got lost. He then handed me a ticket for a free meal next time I come in.

I wouldn't say the theme for the day was the squeaky wheel gets the grease, but rather the driver tried a different gear and the squeak was ultimately avoided.

Or maybe I'm just lucky. And the Powerball jackpot is up to $300 million. Hmmm... Maybe a QuikTrip run is in order, and I've got some birthday money left over.

You'd be so dead if I wasn't this tired.

DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction; of dark, dark humor. This is not any type of manifesto or declaration of intent. Nothing to worry about here, folks.


Gee, I sure would like to murder someone, but I'm just too damn tired. I guess there's a certain balance to it all. I suffer through so many frustrations during the day that by the time I'm done, I'm too pooped to exact my revenge upon the world.

I had a great opportunity to kill that one guy in traffic this morning, but I wasn't sure if my insurance would cover the damages if it was intentional. I could've just shot the guy, but it wouldn't have worked out for two reasons: First of all, I don't have a gun. Second, traffic doesn't speed up if there are dead drivers.

Besides, there's that pesky ten-day waiting period for a gun purchase. Honestly, what are the odds that I'm still gonna be mad ten days from now? By then, I would've completely forgotten why I bought the gun in the first place. Sure, there would be other people and things that would probably demand a cap in the ass, but knowing me, it'd just sit in a drawer somewhere and never get used. It's the espresso machine incident all over again.

Of course, I could try stabbing. Buuuuuut... I don't care for the sight of blood. Besides, that shit never comes out in the wash, and my clothing budget is thin enough as it is.

Strangling? I kinda have some personal space issues, and having a guy claw all over me trying to fight for his life is just kinda... ew. That could be diminished if I strangle them from behind, like with some piano wire. However, I'd miss out on that face-to-face interaction. You know, part of the joy of strangling someone is watching that look in their eyes when their body finally goes limp. One could argue that I could angle it just right to see that look from the side of their head, but it's not just the same.

I got it! I could strangle them from behind in front of a mirror. But where am I gonna find a mirror in a situation like that? Plus, if the mirror gets broken in the struggle, that's seven years of bad luck on my head. No one needs that kind of bad juju in a desperate situation like that.

I could scratch drowning off the list. First, we have the personal space issue again. Secondly, I find water to be too calming. Get me near a lake or a swimming pool, and I'm happy! I want to dive in and play around! I'm certainly not angry enough to wanna kill a guy.

Let's face it. Poisoning is out. If you go the arsenic-type approach, it just takes too frickin' long. If you go the Drano route, it gets too messy.

Blunt force trauma? I've never been able to do more than three push-ups at one time, and I'm seriously supposed to be able to wield enough momentum with something heavy to bash someone's head in? C'mon!

I could push a guy off a cliff or a tall building, but it's too much work to lure the guy to said cliff or tall building. Plus, I couldn't really explain it away as a crime of passion, self defense or an accident because I wouldn't have a reasonable excuse for being on the cliff or the roof in the first place.

Hired assassin? Hell, no! I'm not gonna throw away good money for something I could do myself if I just put my mind to it.

And to top it all off, I'd have to figure out how to get away with it. I mean, I watch a lot of CSI:, I'm pretty smart, and I like to think I'm a fairly unassuming guy. No one would peg me for a murderer, but I'm not good under that kind of pressure. If you sat me in an interrogation room, I'd crack in a matter of seconds! What can I say? Cops intimidate me. The last time I got a speeding ticket, I handed the state trooper my whole wallet when he asked for my ID.

Besides, I'm too pretty to go to jail. I'd have "prison bitch" written on me the moment I got there. I guess I'd just be better off if I didn't kill anyone. It's more trouble than it's worth. I should just control my anger better and maybe remind the people that piss me off that I'm a lazy man, and they'd be in such a world of hurt if I just had proper motivation. But, who am I kidding, we all know I don't have that kind of motivation.

Monday Night Caption Contest

I know a lot of you might be concerned over the fact that this is the fifth or sixth naked man pic for the caption contest. I just thought this was a funny picture. Post your captions in the comment section below.

Here are mine for the week:

1. Just by process of elimination, I'm guessing the women are all wearing udders? There are women at this event, right?

2. Madness...THIS! IS! SPARTA! ...Okay, this is madness.


Last week's winner will be announced next Monday.


August 6th's contest winner is Anonymous, with the caption: "Wow, Harvey, you're hung like a rabbit!"

I'm full

I just got home from my parent's house. I'm hopped up on the caffeine needed to make it through the four hour drive from Little Rock. I've come home to an attention and tuna hungry cat and an inbox full of emails.

How did the weekend with the folks go? Great. However, I'll never again answer the question 'What do you want for your birthday dinner?' with the words 'Surprise me!'

I arrived in Little Rock with a nearly full stomach. An afternoon of snacking with good ol' mom didn't help to reduce it any. This was a serious error in judgment on my part because where the took me out to dinner pretty much demands that you fast for three days before making a reservation.

Here in Tulsa, there's a place called the Flying Roll. You sit down and order your entree and every few minutes, someone comes around with a huge bowl of a different side dish (okra, blackeyed peas, etc.). Their namesake comes from the rolls that they'll toss to you from across the room.

The place my parents took me to, Gaucho's, was just the opposite. The only things on their menu were side dishes. They have people come to your table every few minutes with a different kind of meat skewered on a sword, and they cut you off a piece. I had ten different kinds of meat from five different animals. Just when I thought I was gonna burst, out came my birthday dessert: Chocolate Creme Brulee. Needless to say, I left the restaurant walking like Fred Sanford, and unable to take in a complete breath because my full stomach was compacting my lungs.

Today, my mom made my favorite dish for a family lunch: Lasagna. It was so wonderful, I stuffed myself to the gills for the third time in as many days (including the lasagna at Hideaway on Friday night...call me Garfield if you like, I loves me some lasagna). I was so glad my nieces were both tuckered out from playing at the lake all weekend, and wanted to just hang out with me. I attribute my being alive at this moment to the fact that weren't begging me to play with them outside.

Before I got on the road this evening, my folks made me a care package of some of the meat from their freezer. So, I'm gonna continue to be stuffed for at least the next week. I guess next year for my birthday I need to ask for elastic-band stretch pants.

Birthday

31 years. 372 months. 1,612 weeks. 11,322 days (counting leap years). That is how old I am today...and I'm too lazy to calculate the hours, minutes and seconds.

I have to say, I'm pretty neutral about my birthday this year. I'm not entirely up for massive celebration, nor am I gonna pass on it if one is offered to me. Today just feels like another day, only with cards and lots of well-wishers. I don't know the reason for this level of apathy. Maybe its the hangover I've been nursing all day (damn you, Lance, and your fucking Irish Car Bombs).

I spent the day alone. I treated myself to a nice lunch, bought a couple of DVD's, and procrastinated cleaning up the place. Tonight, dinner with friends (any place without a singing wait staff will do), spending time with the new girlfriend, maybe a movie, etc.

New year, new quaff

I did something today I hadn't done in 2 1/2 years: Paid for a haircut.

For the price of one haircut, I bought a set of trimmers 2 1/2 years ago. It's served me well in that time...and in all that time, every hair on my head has been roughly even with the next one. I'll admit that the number two guard all around wasn't the best look for me, but I've been saving tons of money as a result.

One year ago, I shaved my head down to the scalp, and it has not been cut since. However, with the air conditioning in the truck being on the fritz, the photo shoot I gotta do tomorrow, and the visit to the family this weekend, it was time to do a little shaping.

My needs were simple this time around. All I needed was something that looked nice and wouldn't look too screwed up if I decided to go another year before cutting it again. It was an exercise in blind trust. Literally. I let a stranger obey my vague orders of trimming the sides and the back with my glasses off the whole time. Fortunately, it worked out fine, and I even splurged on some tea tree styling cream, which is kinda sad considering that it'll count as my birthday present to myself.

Now, I'm off to dinner with my friends, then out for drinks. Good times, noodle salad.

Am I really that high strung?

Today was one of those days where I was torn between just facing the computer screen and get my work done with as little contact with my coworkers as possible, and watching said coworker(s) have their little psychotic episodes.

I could go on at great length about what happened today, but I don't feel like doing that much typing. However, here's one little ditty that was almost laughable:

I finish my second job of the day, mark my time on the job ticket, sit back in my chair and take a deep breath. The only thing missing from this picture of calm was scented candles and low-volume Kenny G in the background. I take a drink of my iced tea, and in the duration of that drink, I'm told, "I know! The phones and internet systems are down. Just don't freak out, okay? Calm down! You'll be able to surf the porn sites in a little while!"

To avoid a potential nine-dead-in-office-shooting situation (not by my hand), I just kept my mouth shut. However, I did check over my shoulder for an axe-carrying serial killer with an internet/phone addiction standing behind me.

The coast was clear, so I went back to work.

Monday Night Caption Contest

Post your captions in the comments section below.

Here are mine for the week:

1. One of the lesser known signs of heat stroke: Hallucinating images of Don Quixote, Captain Jack Sparrow, Lancelot and Pinnochio.

2. And no one believed her when she was asked to describe her attackers.


The winner of last week's contest will be announced next Monday.


July 31st's contest winner is Anonymous, with the caption: "Your ticket says Poughkeepsie, you're getting off in Poughkeepsie goddammit!"

I guess he's deserved some time off before Satan calls in his favor

I know, this is my third political post in a row, so I'll be brief:

Imagine my glee when I turned on the news this morning to hear that Karl Rove is resigning. Great news. It would've been greater news if it had happened five years ago, but I can accept it now.

He says he wants to spend more time with his wife and son...I'm guessing their names are Rosemary and Damien. Also, he says he wants to write a book...on sheets of human flesh with the blood of innocent children as ink for his quill. And, he wants to teach...As if law students and political science majors need to be taught how to stab people in the back.

But the first thing he wants to do after he leaves the White House, and this is true, he wants to go dove hunting. Isn't that the ultimate testament to his career, that the first thing he wants to do in his spare time is to kill the international symbol of peace?

Do they not think we keep these on file somewhere?

More video hilarity from the Bush administration. However, this is less funny-ha-ha, and more funny-he-he-we're-fucked.

What a difference thirteen years makes:

George W. Bush hates zombies

You could have all the political analysts you can get, talking 24 hours a day on every news channel on cable, and none of them can give the kind of insight that a well-written satire can. This clip made me laugh harder than I have in weeks, maybe months.

The definition of failure is pretty broad

At the end of the work day today, I had to do some brainstorming for imagery on a project. The subject of the project was overcoming failure.

I went to my favorite stock photography site to do a few quick searches. Under the search "overcoming failure", I came across a lot of pictures of people looking really stressed out, plus a couple of the same guy holding a gun to his head...none of them really screamed "overcoming". So, I broadened my search to simply "failure."

5,421 images. Among them were all the images I saw before plus different angles on the same action. However, some of the other shots this time just plain baffled me. For instance, there was a buxom blonde in a bikini on the beach. Surely the girl wasn't a failure, nor was the photographer for getting such a hot woman to pose in a bikini, so I'm left to wonder: Why was failure being used as a keyword here?

There were also shots of the Statue of Liberty, a guy lying on a pile of money, a mountain at sunset, a tall glass of beer, a sepia-toned pic of an electric guitar, and a little girl in pigtails sticking her tongue out. Clearly, these photographers have some issues to work out.

Not that I should criticize them too much. A couple years ago, I had put the words "shaved pussy" in one of my posts just so the blog would get more hits off of one of the more common Google searches.

My first flame

When I post my own movie reviews on this blogs, I am fully aware of the possibility to be flamed by some anonymous poster. It goes with the territory. The internet is supposed to be for the free exchange of ideas and opinions. One thing I've found in my own internet adventures, is that two subjects one can blog about will guarantee you a verbal lashing by a total stranger: Politics and movies. Seeing as I post a lot about politics and of movies, I guess I've been lucky to avoid this treatment...until now.

On my review of the movie Sunshine, there was this comment by Anonymous:

What exactly is so classic about this mess? The characters making idiotic mistakes that get them killed? The captain who has no idea how to lead? The writer who delights in preposterous death-traps? Beyond the pretty cast and the even prettier score, "Sunshine" is an exercise in stupidity. Getting truly sick of the post-MTV generation tagging this pug as a classic.

Now, I know I'm begging to be flamed back for responding to this, but I feel every blogger has to do it at least once, so here we go...

What exactly is so classic about this mess? Calm down. It's one person's opinion. All I said it was easily in my personal top five. I didn't say it should unseat Citizen Kane on the AFI 100 list. Just for some frame of reference, here are a few examples of some of my other favorite sci-fi movies: Strange Days, Dark City, Brazil, Blade Runner, 2001, Children of Men, 12 Monkeys, Dune...you know, real blockbusters that everyone appreciated.

The characters making idiotic mistakes that get them killed? Personally, I thought it was much more believable for the characters in this movie to at least acknowledge that everything they're doing is based solely on theory. At every corner, when forced to make a decision, they don't know if it'll work or not. At no point did any of the characters say the words "Trust me. This will work." It was always an educated guess! Besides, only one was an actual mistake (a miscalculation), and the guy who made that mistake was so distraught by its consequences that he had to be doped up and put on suicide watch.

The captain who has no idea how to lead? All of the crew members had their specific purpose on the mission. You had someone in charge of communications, one for life support, a physicist in charge of the payload, a crew psychologist, etc. Sure, if this had been a bigger Hollywood production, Bruce Willis would've been Captain Hardass with a Troubled Past Trying to Save the World in Order to Get His Kids Back, which I'm sure would've made you happier. However, this isn't Star Trek, or Babylon 5, or even Armageddon or The Core. The captain didn't assert his power because he realized he was just like everyone else on the ship...he was just trying to do his job. And he died doing his job: protecting the ship and its crew. The crew knew this, that's why no one listened to the Communications guy when he tried to claim himself as the Captain. It was a last-ditch effort to be considered useful again after the communications systems failed.

The writer who delights in preposterous death-traps? As opposed to the countless other fully believable, plausible and enjoyable sci-fi movies where the whole mission goes swimmingly and nothing ever goes wrong?

Beyond the pretty cast and the even prettier score, "Sunshine" is an exercise in stupidity. You know, most theaters will give you your money back during the first 45 minutes. Unless you just like to torture yourself for the full two hours just for the sake of bitching about it later...oh...nevermind.

Getting truly sick of the post-MTV generation tagging this pug as a classic. If it weren't for this statement, I wouldn't have ever responded like this. First of all, motherfucker (oh, may I call you motherfucker?), I've never considered myself part of any generation because I never fit in with any body of my own age group growing up. Instead, I've found companionship with a wide range of people with both similar and differing opinions than my own. The big difference between them and someone like you is they have the courtesy to either agree to disagree or not say anything if they've got nothing nice to say. But most importantly, I actually know who the hell they are!

But if I must split hairs, agewise, I'm the MTV generation (not post-), the ones that stopped watching after they stopped showing music videos. I can't stand the post-MTV crowd, and I hate being lumped in with them just because someone like you overheard the clerk at Pac-Sun say that the movie kicks ass. By all accounts, that is the only thing I have in common with them. Don't generalize.

Do the movies you hate really piss you off so much that you must rag on people who liked it? Do you do this in person as well? Are you hanging around Circuit City waiting to scream at anyone buying a Failure to Launch DVD? Do you throw rotten eggs at people leaving the theater after I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry lets out?

It's just a movie, it's just my opinion, and if you have further problems with it, please have the common courtesy to give your fucking name.

Monday Night Caption Contest

Post your captions in the comment section below.

Here are mine for the week:

1. This is just one of those Kodak moments that you can only ask permission for afterwards. If you're in a public restroom and a guy agrees to have his picture taken beforehand, you might just get more than you bargained for.

2. Poor Bill, he can't help but check out the packages of his imaginary friends.


I will announce last week's winner next Monday.


July 23rd's winner, based solely on it being the only non-Monty Python reference, is Anonymous, with: "In the ancient Orient, clans would develop a style of martial arts by observing animals in the wild and adapting the animal movements to enhance their their own fighting style. The following video shows, quite graphically, why the "Rabbit Style" was never very popular."

Sunshine

Wanna surreal experience? Catch an afternoon showing of the new movie Sunshine. That way, when you leave the theater and go out into the daylight, it just takes the whole experience home for you.

Sunshine is immediately in my top five for sci-fi. It embodies all of the best qualities I look for in a great science fiction film, in that you start with a very basic scientific principle/theory and build a very human drama around it and have it speak volumes about the human condition. It's a hard trick to pull off, and I haven't found a flick that has pulled it off as well as Sunshine.

Here's the setup: Years from now, our sun is dying. A daring space mission to deliver a massive bomb to reignite the sun has failed, and our story begins with the second and final attempt to save our sun and, in turn, our planet. Why our sun is dying is not explained. The back stories of the characters are not explained. The audience comes in halfway through the second mission, when two-way communication with Earth has cut off and one-way communication to Earth is about to be lost.

So, we're immediately at the point when interpersonal conflict starts taking its toll on the characters. They are increasingly aware of the risk involved in their mission and the fact that what they are trying to achieve is not certain. The results they're hoping for is merely a theory. To that end, they are constantly running diagnostics and simulations to calculate every move they make, knowing full well the chances of being really, really wrong.

Then, things start to go a little haywire. Human errors lead to mechanical errors and vice versa. A distress signal is picked up from the first mission, long since considered lost. Every possible solution to each problem leads to decisions that are based on ever-decreasing probability of success.

As life support systems start to fail, the only undercurrent in every character's motivation, their only common ground, is that if they fail, it's not just the people on the ship that are utterly fucked. There is no possibility of rescue, and no backup mission. The last of Earth's resources for such a mission are on their ship. And, as life support systems start to fail, theres no pussy-footing around about the idea that some crew members might have to waive their share of the oxygen.

This is a Danny Boyle film, so I knew one thing from his previous films to watch out for in Sunshine. There's a point in every one of his movies where everything gets turned on its ear. Unlike M. Night Shyamalan, the big twist isn't a head-scratching or eye-rolling gimmick. Boyle is able to make it all feel completely natural and he's able to do it for the right reason: to crank the tension up to eleven. If you watch Shallow Grave, 28 Days Later or Sunshine, you'll know that Danny Boyle is a master of this art.

Likewise, Boyle is great at taking a genre and...I hesitate to say reinvent or rejuvenate...but make it his own. In the hands of any other director, Sunshine would've been just another disaster movie. Shallow Grave was more Hitchcock than Hitchcock. 28 Days Later was such a good zombie picture that people don't even want to use the word zombie to describe it. Trainspotting was in such a class all by itself that I dare anyone to find another movie to include with it as a double feature.

The best part about Sunshine? Lack of mainstream appeal. It's the kind of movie that makes you proud to have seen and appreciated. The kind of movie that gives you a warm feeling knowing there won't be a Happy Meal toy or a shirt at Hot Topic that ties in with it. The kind of movie that makes you look down your noses at the people that didn't get it. The kind of movie that you'll have in your DVD collection and will immediately make someone watch when they tell you they hadn't seen it.

Been a few days

Thursday

Work was a bit of a sphincter-pucker. I had to hit the ground running on a project I forgot to get a partial proof to the client late Wednesday. Other little projects came back to haunt me as well, which kept interrupting this other brochure I was planning on working on all day. I'd get about five words typed in on the brochure and something else would take me away from it. Ironic, considering it was a brochure for a hospice center, and plugging in text about end-of-life care was taking me forever to get done.

Thursday night, I finally saw the Simpsons Movie. I was considering writing a review of it, but anyone who knows me knows that I was gonna think it was great. For once, a movie based on a TV show that doesn't try to pretend to be anything other than what it is, and is enjoyable from beginning to end. They didn't try to reinvent the wheel, or tie up any loose ends from the show or leave a cliffhanger to be resolved next season on the TV show. I was also very happy that they didn't go too heavy with stuff they couldn't get away with on TV. Any touches of risque behavior was done with a steady hand.

What were the highlights? Bart skateboarding naked (with a genitalia-obscuring gag that puts Austin Powers to shame AND the greatest Ralph Wiggum-ism ever), a great off-camera sex scene, Grand Theft Walrus, Spider Pig/Harry Plopper, etc. Even the stuff I've seen a million times in trailers and commercials had me laughing my ass off.

After the movie, Cairde na Gael was playing at Arnie's Bar. I didn't stay nearly as late as I usually do, because I was exhausted.


Friday

Work was pretty steady throughout the day. Both of my bosses were out most of the morning, which allowed my blood pressure to remain low.

Friday night, I had a date. I've made it a personal rule not to post any major details about dating, at least for a while. I do this for many reasons. 1) I've got many friends foaming at the mouth for details and I figured I'd torture them for a while. 2) I've had trouble in the past with the women I've dated reading what I've written about them in the blog and getting upset that I wrote about this, left out that, etc. I'd rather leave this stuff private until I better know what should be classified information. 3) I don't want to get back in the habit of writing down every hope, fear, wish or doubt I'm having at any given moment about a budding relationship. While it's a great way for me to sort out what's in my head, the backlash is too severe for me to risk. and 4) I just want to enjoy it for myself.


Saturday


I woke up early and could really fall back asleep. I walked around the Farmer's Market, grabbed some Cafe Cubana, drove around for about an hour, got some lunch and went back home to veg out for the rest of the day until it was time to go work the door at Arnie's.

Last night was night of the cheapskates. I had what seemed like 35 people in a row turn away at the door because they didn't want to spend three dollars to get in. Larkin was putting on one hell of a show, and all those losers really missed out. Another highlight of the night was the girl, a very American girl in voice, dress and attitude, who only had Euros in her wallet. Apparently, I need to familiarize myself with exchange rates before I work the door again.

No food for me, or cash, or much of anything convenient for the next few days

Two lessons learned today:

1. Before going grocery shopping and filling a cart with stuff, always check your wallet for your debit card.
2. From now on, stick to the ATMs where you swipe your card, rather than insert it into the machine.

Yes, for the second time in a year, I left my fucking ATM card in one of the fucking ATMs that not only suck your fucking card into the machine, but also shreds said fucking card rather than stores it in a little fucking compartment for easy retrieval by a fucking bank manager when given a simple fucking explanation and shown a fucking driver's license.

So, again I have to wait another 5-7 business days for a new card and will have to live off checks in the meantime. Of course, if I just write a big check out to cash, I should look like a high roller for the next week or so...which might impress my date on Friday.

The funny thing is, I lost my card at an ATM located at the Reasor's on 15th street this morning, and I realized I lost it while trying to pay for my groceries at a Reasor's on Yale! Why did I go to two of the same chain of grocery stores in the same day, much less first thing in the morning? Cute story.

I get out of the shower this morning and hear my cell phone ringing. It was one of my co-workers calling to ask me if I could pick up some half & half on my way in. I agreed, not questioning it at all until I was standing at the dairy case at QuikTrip, where there was no half & half. Everybody in the office uses the non-dairy creamer for their coffee, you know, the big ass tub with the pump that you find at Sam's Club. I call her back and ask why we needed half & half. Turns out my boss brought in a huge carafe from Cafe Cubana for the office this morning. This information not only supplied me with purpose, but also a new-found sense of urgency to get to the office.

Seriously, if you live in Tulsa, and you haven't had Cafe Cubana coffee...get off your ass! You know that scene from Pulp Fiction where Mia Wallace gets the shot of adrenalin directly to her heart? It's kinda like that, only you're drinking really good coffee. It gives me the jolt I need to get through the morning, only I get to savor it instead of holding my nose and chugging the Folgers shit we usually get at the office.

That's part of the reason I left my ATM card behind in the machine. I was in a rush to get to the office for coffee. Although, in hindsight, Maybe I shouldn't have been in that much of a rush considering people were waiting on me to get there with the half & half.

And another silver lining to this story is that I really didn't need all that food I was buying. I ignored the old adage that you should never go grocery shopping when you're hungry, and man oh man was I hungry. I was throwing stuff in my cart that the poor kids who were gonna have to put it all back wouldn't know where they were stocked. I had artichoke hearts, garbanzo beans, Wolfgang Puck frozen pizza, oyster crackers... stuff I don't think I've ever consumed, much less purchased before in my entire life! Imagine what that cart would've looked like if I were stoned!

The really funny thing is, it's now 10:30, and I still haven't eaten. In fact, my hunger went away in the panic of not finding my debit card.