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mood |
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Madonna "He's A Man" |
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Heyyy there, DJ and company... (cue noisemakers, Dick Clark, a big electric ball, and drunken screaming) and Happy 2005. Jesus, we made it all the way here. I think I agree with Kimmie...definitely not a fan of the odd-numbered years. Doesn't mean I won't live it up this year or anything, but I guess the OCD in me wants an even-numbered year because it's...you know... more pretty-sounding or something. I bet some medication would cure me of this thought process. C'est la vie, I suppose. Anyway, it's been actually quite a long time since the last post... what, 6 days or something? A week? We all know that pisses me off and that if it were up to me, I'd update this motherfucker every day and get paid for it. Also, my best friend would be Kylie Minogue. Moving on... I had a pretty decent vacation followed by a lax New Years, so sit back, it's time for the review, and maybe if you're lucky, I'll flex for you. I bet you didn't even know you were going to the gunshow.
Alright, on the morn of the 27th, my family and I packed up and shuttled ourselves off to St. Louis in our Chevy Astro van (of love). Before we headed straight to Missouri, however, we had to pick up my brother Mark at my cousin Tyler's house where he spent the previous night. Tyler's family is the type that buys a new house every few years simply because they can. The members of this family (my cousins Mike and his wife Tammy, their sons Tyler and Christopher) are a family of super-athletes, and they're self-designed house shows it. there's nine-foot tall doorways everywhere in the house because they're all so tall. It was kind of humbling to visit. For people that can buy and build real estate like the world is their own personal Monopoly board, Mike and Tammy remain modest about it, to the point where it's almost incredible. I mean I'm happy for them and all...perhaps slightly envious at all the opportunity they have with all the money they've got. Well anyway, before long, we were back on the road to St. Louis. Pretty typical car adventure... lots of me listening to my headphones, including my new Gwen Stefani cd, which is like... a dance mishmash of supercool Gwen grooves and then grating-as-hell songs that feel unfinished and/or half-assed. And no matter who you are, I don't care if you've got Alzheimers and don't know better, whatever, if you can sit through "Long Way to Go", I can't tolerate you. However, you can win back my affection with gift certificates and blowjobs, so don't worry.
We stopped at Burger King on the way to St. Louie just to confirm the start of an official Virtel vacation. And here's something I don't like that I do: there was a gay manager at the Burger King, and he had a tie, a moustache, and the whole gay aura going for him...and I turned to Mark upon spying this guy, and I said, "Oh, look at that nice gay man." What the fuck is that? I basically objectified the guy on sight, which is like... the opposite of what I'm all about. Actually though, when I think about it more, I guess I tend to make note of gayness when I see it because like... I want to find someone to identify with a lot of the time, you could say. Either way, it's probably not the best way to look at things. Nonetheless, the chicken tenders were damn good. We hit the road again, and after the ceremonious sighting of the arch, we arrived at my Uncle Jim's house where his kids and grandkids were. Strange, I had a good time with them all, and they sometimes think I'm funny, and I definitely like them... but I don't think I'm really like them in a lot of ways. I was inquired about Iowa and the stand-up comedy I did at No Shame and classes and all. Maybe I'm just not a smalltalker. See, it's especially weird being at gatherings like this because...although this people have known me for a long time, they really don't know the kind of person I am around my friends and my immediate family. These aren't the people that would appreciate a good bulimia joke. I know, I can't believe they exist either. I do love them though; they are very nice and cordial... and John and Danielle's kid Steven and Amie and Paul's son Charles are fucking adorable.
That night my family attended the annual Christmas party at my Uncle Mark's house. I schmoozed almost suave-ly with some of my relatives but before long, my cousin Mike arrived and it was time for the Trivial Pursuit 90s Edition hoedown. Mike, my brother Mark, Mike's brother Will, my cousin Brian, and I all played the game till the party fucking ended. I was victorious (who's bad?!), and I even learned a thing or two. For instance, who knew that Margeaux Hemingway killed herself? Am I just really in the dark? I did show my Madonna mastery, namely during one question inquiring about the conebra and I think another about the Sex book. There's gotta be a living somewhere in this for me. My family then spent the night at grandma's house, where I got grandma's ancient Trivial Pursuit games from her closet and read questions to myself on my cot in the basement for hours. Enthralling, let me tell you. The next day my immediate family partied on over to the Des Peres mall, and guys, Express totally kicked my ass... I ended up buying two pairs of jeans (and they are smokin') and spending barely 50 bucks. It was this occasion that warranted my decision to make Express Men my favorite store of almost all time. I'm thinking of having an awards ceremony. Let's see...later in the day I went with my dad to see Sideways (an excellent movie, I really recommend it) while the rest of my family went and saw The Incredibles... and since I'm done giving a shit about the St. Louis vacation, I'm going to summarize my last two days by saying we revisited the mall, and I got nothing, then I met my godfather's new girlfriend, then the day after that we went back home. There. Pretty entertaining, I know.
Since my return to the rolling meadows of Lemont, I've hung out with the usual group of peeps...Sarah, Kimmie, Feej, Andy, etc. Kimmie left back for college the other day, and it was a sad departure, but we celebrated with a marathon viewing of the first season of Sex and the City when Sarah Jessica Parker didn't look like the wicked witch of the west. Kimmie and I celebrated New Years the same way... we were out of options and out of giving-a-shit, so we booked it to her place, kicked back with Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda and let the hours roll by. Kimmie's dad wandered downstairs during just the right part of course, when Charlotte was proclaiming, "I DON'T WANT TO BE THE UP-THE-BUTT GIRL!" Rachel also came home the other day from England, and we went to Starbucks, Walmart, and Borders since her return. Today I'm going for coffee with Erin, and that will be nice...sure has been awhile since I've even seen the girl. Not sure what we'll talk about, but I'm sure everything and anything will come up. I feel like I'm being really short and undescriptive in this here journal entry...for some reason lately I haven't been in the mood for udpating. I have made a couple of cd purchases recently that I'm excited about... awhile ago, I lost both discs to my Laura Nyro greatest hits, and just a few days ago I bought a single-disc compilation of hers, and oh what a revelation it is! The first song of the new year I listened to on my headphones was Laura's cover of "Up On the Roof" written by Carole King and Gerry Goffin, and it's just wonderful. The other day at Borders with Rachel I bought a double-disc Kylie Minogue retrospective, called 87-96 or something along those lines. It's a bit repetitive with all the percussion-heavy disco, but there are a few major favorites, namely "I Should Be So Lucky" which is simply the cream of the disco fluff crop. And that, my friends, leads us up to today.
We're entering a part of the year that I generally abhor. The January-February-March time period always seems so slow and dark, like it's just a bleak time in the middle of nowhere with no sunlight in sight. Have to say though, I'm looking forward to being at school during this time, if not for any other reason than I desperately want to make college a place where I can encourage myself to really forward my life as opposed to just distract myself from it. It's the same old story I've told before really... and maybe I've really missed the boat on what college is supposed to be about... but it's so difficult to make the random location of Iowa feel like the place where my "destiny" is, where I'm supposed to center all my aspirations and dreams and whatever. I'm also sick of just waiting around for my career to come and hit me. The bottom line is, I want to be a comedian or an actor or a writer RIGHT NOW, while I'm feelin' fresh and on top of my game. I know I'm funny enough, and I know I've got the ability to connect with an audience enough to fucking do it. I understand this is a difficult career to become successful in, but really... I think about it, and I wonder, if not me, then who? Because I feel just as qualified as anybody else, and I certainly feel like my "act" is original and godo enough for the bigger leagues. I'm very antsy to start taking those improv classes in the summer...and I've even got some far-gone hopes of being culled by some Second City bigshot who sees me perform...perhaps he'll even stand up and proclaim, "THAT BOY! The one in the sexy LIZ PHAIR shirt! He's got it!" And then he'll whisk me away to Hollywood and get me a starring role in A Star is Born and I'll be advertised as the new Mae West. Perhaps I sound a bit sarcastic (and dare I say, immodest!) in saying all this shit. But this is the area where I know my potential lies, where I know I could make a killing, where I'd feel like I was connecting and fulfilling a purpose and doing it right. Being a King of Modesty on a grand scale. Mmmmm, those bigtime dreams. And those college-time blues. When will the madness end?
I don't think I'm unhappy or anything like that with my current circumstances...I mean I am majoring in journalism, which is valid, plus it's a subject I like a lot... but I've always wanted to be a comedic performer, and to just dash that potential I've worked at for basically my whole life seems pointless. In the meantime, I suppose I can chill out and enjoy the view, Meredith-Vieira style. I'll start doing that by going with Rachel to Second City tomorrow, and hopefully meeting up with Alyssa from Iowa and some of her homies. Every time I go to Second City, I'm immediately awed by how...personal and intimate the stage and audience settings are. It's not at all a distant theatrical production, you know? It's like people just getting up and doing a show, and you can see everything and hear everything. JESUS, WHY AM I NOT IN THAT SHOW? Alright, back to enjoying the view.
I swear to God next journal entry I'm going to be more realistic and coffee-talky. We'll call this an entry where I got shit out of my system. And I'll call you Marty. Because I can. So anyway, toodles, I've got another two weeks in L-town to do as I please, and you've got another two weeks to...do what you want, I don't know. Let's turn this mother out,
Xoxo,
Louis.
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