Thursday, August 6, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
the hidden bedford ave
My trip to Brooklyn. Well.
I've been contemplating not writing about this at all. To this day I believe it may have soiled a friendship.
Most of the trip was documented on a rather tedious but lovely Diana. The film has yet to be developed.
I was not fortunate enough to capture any serious video footage either. Not because I tried though. New York is not a place where you want to be carrying a bunch of shit around with you. Especially not during one of the hottest Restaurant Weeks. Waiting in line anywhere to get something to eat is fifteen times as bad.
The heat was intense. Now I know why most actual New Yorkers go north for the summer.
The trip was great. I gandered with ol' H.P. at the "midnight" showing.
All went smoothly until I suddenly had to scramble to find a place to stay, had to catch an early bus back, and ran out of money.
LET'S just say that the final 48 hours of my "vacation" to Brookly wasn't exactly a restful 48 hours.
The Fung Wah was surprisingly slow. Slower than taking a train. I know, right?
And the AC was broken.
I've been contemplating not writing about this at all. To this day I believe it may have soiled a friendship.
Most of the trip was documented on a rather tedious but lovely Diana. The film has yet to be developed.
I was not fortunate enough to capture any serious video footage either. Not because I tried though. New York is not a place where you want to be carrying a bunch of shit around with you. Especially not during one of the hottest Restaurant Weeks. Waiting in line anywhere to get something to eat is fifteen times as bad.
The heat was intense. Now I know why most actual New Yorkers go north for the summer.
The trip was great. I gandered with ol' H.P. at the "midnight" showing.
All went smoothly until I suddenly had to scramble to find a place to stay, had to catch an early bus back, and ran out of money.
LET'S just say that the final 48 hours of my "vacation" to Brookly wasn't exactly a restful 48 hours.
The Fung Wah was surprisingly slow. Slower than taking a train. I know, right?
And the AC was broken.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Confessions of a Superhero
Check it out on Hulu foh free!
http://www.hulu.com/watch/63282/confessions-of-a-superhero
http://www.hulu.com/watch/63282/confessions-of-a-superhero
Friday, July 10, 2009
oh, the 50's
Just some of my favorite male actors from the 50's. For some reason I'm on a black and white movie kick.
Oh the black and whites. With their brooding heroes and damsels in distress. Sigh. I was most definitely born in the wrong era
Oh the black and whites. With their brooding heroes and damsels in distress. Sigh. I was most definitely born in the wrong era
James Dean>
Montgomery Clift>
Marlon Brando
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Letters to Zoe Sarnacki. Volume 1
Dear Zoe.
I have so many things that I want to say to you.
First is that I love you. Always have. Always will. Second. I miss you. I miss everything. It's almost like the world is apple juice. And the day you died someone poured half of it out and replaced the rest with vinegar. Third. I'm glad it was you. You were more prepared for it than any of the rest of us ever will be. This world is cruel and unforgiving. And you saw past that. I keep trying but it's so hard. It only helps that you keep paying me little visits on my night time ventures. I'd never imagined one person could embody so many different stray cats at once.
The day after you died was the most embellished day of my life. It's still burnt into my memory so clearly. From the moment the words "Chad murdered Zoe" left Molly's lips to the moment that I unlocked my door when Chris Coyne dropped me off. (I wonder if Tim ever found the photo of Chad after I hid it behind his couch) Marching practice the next day couldn't have made me feel more numb. But I knew that you would want me to keep going. To keep fighting. Jess and I both knew the other was there, feeling the same thing.
After I was on the news, people kept telling me how sorry and sad they were. I couldn't help feeling that it was wrong to be sad. I knew that I should have been happy for you. But all I could do was cry.
I'm just grateful that I have Sarah and Jess. So I can talk about you. No one else seems to want to talk about it to me. I wish they would. I don't know Evan or Chris well enough to really know whether it's me or not.
Sometimes I see you walking toward me on the street and I smile, then you disappear.
Your tribute is in 2 weeks. On the 21st. I hope your there in spirit. I'll have plenty of lovely things to say about you. Remember that time we drove to Falmouth with Sierra Villacci and I tried to roll a joint in the backseat and you had to do it for me? And then we went and got Lexie and drank Twisted Tea? That was the first day I ever met you.
I'd also like to thank you. For reaching out to me the last day I saw you. I wish I could remember what that hug felt like. I wish I could remember what your voice sounded like that day. I'm getting out of here soon. I'm going to stay in New York for a week. Hopefully I'll return with a fresh piece of mind. And some of the staleness and gloom that's surrounded this place will be gone.
I'll keep writing to you.
You'll keep visiting me.
I love you.
Love,
Your "Walker-in-the-sunshine"
I have so many things that I want to say to you.
First is that I love you. Always have. Always will. Second. I miss you. I miss everything. It's almost like the world is apple juice. And the day you died someone poured half of it out and replaced the rest with vinegar. Third. I'm glad it was you. You were more prepared for it than any of the rest of us ever will be. This world is cruel and unforgiving. And you saw past that. I keep trying but it's so hard. It only helps that you keep paying me little visits on my night time ventures. I'd never imagined one person could embody so many different stray cats at once.
The day after you died was the most embellished day of my life. It's still burnt into my memory so clearly. From the moment the words "Chad murdered Zoe" left Molly's lips to the moment that I unlocked my door when Chris Coyne dropped me off. (I wonder if Tim ever found the photo of Chad after I hid it behind his couch) Marching practice the next day couldn't have made me feel more numb. But I knew that you would want me to keep going. To keep fighting. Jess and I both knew the other was there, feeling the same thing.
After I was on the news, people kept telling me how sorry and sad they were. I couldn't help feeling that it was wrong to be sad. I knew that I should have been happy for you. But all I could do was cry.
I'm just grateful that I have Sarah and Jess. So I can talk about you. No one else seems to want to talk about it to me. I wish they would. I don't know Evan or Chris well enough to really know whether it's me or not.
Sometimes I see you walking toward me on the street and I smile, then you disappear.
Your tribute is in 2 weeks. On the 21st. I hope your there in spirit. I'll have plenty of lovely things to say about you. Remember that time we drove to Falmouth with Sierra Villacci and I tried to roll a joint in the backseat and you had to do it for me? And then we went and got Lexie and drank Twisted Tea? That was the first day I ever met you.
I'd also like to thank you. For reaching out to me the last day I saw you. I wish I could remember what that hug felt like. I wish I could remember what your voice sounded like that day. I'm getting out of here soon. I'm going to stay in New York for a week. Hopefully I'll return with a fresh piece of mind. And some of the staleness and gloom that's surrounded this place will be gone.
I'll keep writing to you.
You'll keep visiting me.
I love you.
Love,
Your "Walker-in-the-sunshine"
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