Busy, busy week so far--having just gotten back from Thanksgiving break Monday, I'm facing a bigger plate of work than all the Turkey and truffle I'd enjoyed at the family table! Here's what my day looks like right now, and has looked like the past few days: wake up at 8 for class (with a cup of brew, of course,) get out of class at 12:20 and go back to my dorm for a shower, study until 7:30 or so, go to either a  musical ensemble for my lab hours or Rehearsal for the play I'm in or the theatre lab for THOSE lab hours, and then go back to my dorm and sit by the phone with a bottle of beer or a cigarette with the precious feeling of having NOTHING planned until the next morning when the cycle starts over again. It hasn't quite been all work and no play, I have to admit--I'm usually up until three in the morning with my friends either playing cards, watching a movie, or just shooting the breeze about random stuff, and that is all fun.

Here's the big, bad beastie though: I have multiple papers due next weeks (two of which being final exams,) as well as a test in Biology which holds a pass/fail for me in the balance, and also the performance night of the Play on Friday night (which, in all honesty, I'll be GLAD to be done with!) It's saddening to say, but with all this in front of me I've barely gotten a word in on any of my stories or even my journal, and for a writer that sort of thing is vital to one's day, almost like life support of the imagination. Don't be fooled, I've been working a LOT inside my head, writing down ideas and variations of my novel's ending every chance I get, but it feels like I haven't done anything of substance for my career in quite a while.

Well...here's hoping for the best, I guess. That's about all a person CAN do aside from working tooth and nail, so it's what I put forth.

Something abnormal happened today in the midst of studying and binge-drinking cans of Coca Cola: from out of the blue i started thinking of my Grandpa Dubbert, who died almost three years ago of Cancer. I had the familiar scent of his house on the tip of my nostrils, the unique blend of Old Spice and strange medicince. I had these strange translucent photographs of past memories plastered over everything I saw: watching television in his office, kicking back in his favorite armchair with a book in my hand, sitting at the kitchen table in his old house eating oatmeal for the first time as I listened to him tell about his days as a child, how different things were and how they somehow managed to survive without things like Playstation and Internet Explorer. I heard his voice in the storm outside, somewhere out in the dark grey clouds as they pour rain and wash away all the cigarette buts encrusted in dirt. He was a man with one of those voices you can't forget even if you want to, that grainy kind with a careful tempo to it, measuring and weighting every word like he was engineering it for some heavy-duty purpose. The funny thing is, though, he never said anything that didn't grab your attention somehow, even if it was completely normal and unremarkable. I wish I'd paid more attention as a kid, listened more to his old stories about days in the service and how he met my Grandma. It's so easy to take advantage of the time you have with loved ones, passing time by dwindling your thumbs and passing by the pearls of wisdom that are handed out so lovingly, but you never realize until it's too late that these events happen only once, and if you let them go they'll never come around again. I'm going to be a hypocrite for a moment by plainly saying that I will make this mistake again several hundred more times before it's me in the deathbed and my grandchildren dwindling their thumbs as I babble--human nature takes over if you don't discipline it, and my mind is no exception. My loved ones will talk and more often than not I won't listen. I'll wander off on my own and find out that the advice they'd tried to give me could've gotten me through storms like this current one with much greater ease. There's some sick beauty in that, I think, the idea that even when you know you should pay attention to life you're still doomed to wander by your own compass and discover all the terrors and pleasures of this world without the aid of those who would give both thumbs on a plate to protect you.

I'll never understand why I'm such a selfish man, but as long as I'm as stubborn as the rest of the world, I'll try to get past the feeling and remember how badly I need every pearl of wisom I toss aside on a daily basis.

Went to my first fencing practice last night with my friend Spencer after years of wondering how the Hell real swordplay works (and how full of crap those Pirate movies really are.) I found out, in fact, that real bouts are much quicker and strategic than you see in movies, with much more strategy and concise movement. In a way, the sport has a language of its own, one that you become fluent with only by speaking every chance you get and blending it with your personality.

Today was more or less relaxation with few hints of work at all. Because I was stupid enough not to enter my product key into Microsoft word  yet, it stopped working this morning just as I was about to roll onto the next big scene (one of my personal favorites!) in the Project. I wrote longhand instead, grinding out about half of what I would normally type but enough so that I can catch up with it later on. Like I said, it hasn't been a very big stepping day, but I'm pretty satisfied with what I've gotten done.

I haven't been well lately. Not. One. Bit. I've been sick as a dog, gasping for breath when I'm not even running and sneezing without warning (which isn't too fun when you're drinking hot coffee, mind you!) I don't know if it was the emotion that brought on the cold or the cold that brought on the emotion, but I'm sick on two different fronts right now with no sign of getting better on either.

I'm about to head out to the pub for a Latino Student Union meeting. Catch you later!

Boredom rules the day again. Though I'm still feeling a tad sick and therefore able excused for feeling shitty, I can't find enough satisfaction today to make it very memorable. I went to class this morning against my better wishes and I had to wipe my nose every three seconds to keep from dribbling (disgusting, I know...probably could've left that detail out.) It got so bad that I left Sociology early to go buy some DayQuil at the marketplace, which was enough to get me through Theatre and Biology and back into bed when I reached my dorm again. I'm feeling better now, but there's a new sickness to be dealt with...the impossibility to find satisfaction in something I'm not completely happy with. There are certain things in life you can't help but feel heartache over. This is one of them.

Rock and Roll gets me through, though. I have quite the collection on I-Tunes, so whenever I feel down I can blast the Rolling Stones and do whatever it is I need to do to feel like I've accomplished something for the day (i.e--in my writing; homework; comedy routine.)

Started work on my BFA portfolio today. It went pretty smoothly, though not quite as easy as I'd assumed. It's much harder to select which works to use than you can imagine--it's almost like questioning which chess piece to use in an intense match, except in this case victory is a must and not just a whimsical hope.

I rented the Boondock Saints, and I have to say it's definitely one of the top ten movies I've ever seen. Willem Dufoe is one of my big screen heroes, and he plays the role of a jaded cop pretty perfectly, cracking lines off with quick riposte and playing the badass while at the same time flying on a downward spiral. The main question of the movie, I believe, is "is there such thing as a good serial killer, one that kills for justice rather than pleasure and does 'the will of God,' playing judge and jury simultaneously?" I had real difficulty deciding this one. On one hand, why not? Vigilantism's always been a theme in comic books like Batman, so what's the difference in two Irish brothers going around blowing away criminals for the good of the city? On the other hand though (and this is where religion comes into play,) is it left up to man to decide the will of God in any circumstance? I'm not some religious nutball, to be quite frank, but I do believe in a higher power with all the wisdom and decisiveness necessary for the world, leaving no room for one man to decide on "what's right" or "what ought to be done."

Great movie. Well-written.

With that in mind, muchachos, I'll catch you on the flip-side. I'm gonna go get my Guitar Hero on!

Starting writing again tonight for the first time in the last week. Can't really say why I've been so sluggish about it lately...I guess college does that to you. All the homework, you know. All the fun. All the pain of organization...

And, of course, all my lame-ass excuses!

Surprisingly, it wasn't all that hard to pick up where I'd left off and push the gas pedal down again, plowing through the next scene which I've been putting off intentionally (it's a very depressing one, and although I'm simply the narrator in this first-person novel with no true pain to feel, it brings those tears all the same. That's the sort of connection I have to my characters sometimes, I guess.) I haven't said very much about this current project, but it's unlike anything I've ever approached before, mainly in the subject matter. It has a lot to do with personal conflicts and perseverence with dreams, along with all the challenges one faces when looking at the dark hole he must jump over to get to where he truly wants to be. As many of my closer friends know, I'm not the type of person to take Mick Jagger seriously when he sings "you can't always get what you want." Rubbish. You can do anything you set your mind to if you're headstrong enough to keep pushing and absolutely clear on your intentions.

So sez the dreamer.

Homework's been a bitch, to put it quite bluntly. I just found out yesterday via e-mail that I have a portfolio due in two weeks to continue pursuing my BFA degree, which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't feel in such a dry spell right now with creativity. I'm considering just using some of my older works and editing them as I see fit, but then again, where there's an opportunity to write more short stories AND complete schoolwork, I feel an obligation to put my best foot forward. Besides, I do have a few interesting ideas up my sleeve...hehehe...

There's a talent show in a little less than a month, sponsored by the Latinio Student Union. I'm a little unsure whether or not I'll participate, but with the helpful nudges (and kicks in the shin) from a few good friends here, I'm currently drawing out another stand-up comedy act which I'll (hopefully) perform. I always enjoy the opportunity to make a fool of myself and make others laugh in the process, and withe the world the way it is now, there's certainly no shortage of things to joke about.

With motivation from a close friend, I've decided to abandon my Facebook account for the next week or so, depending on how things roll from here on out, which means I'll probably be updating this blog more frequently with all the open time I usually spend surfing the internet and updating my progress several, several times a day. If you're a friend on my account, you can still reach me via e-mail, text, or--Hell--even a phone call, like people back in the 90's did.

I'm going to go do some push-ups now and try to grind out a few more pages in The Project. Adios, senors y senoritas!

As a loyal fan to movies like Animal House and Van Wilder, I feel it's only right that I give a firsthand report on the college life here at Bowling Green (A.K.A--"Party Central.")

Classes are nothing like they were back in high school, so for anyone who thinks they're the God of homework and straight-A King, jump off your high horse and get ready to be obliterated: in college you don't just have to pay attention and REMEMBER things, but you also have to LEARN them! (Now isn't that amazing? Go figure.) You take your own notes in almost every class rather than recording them off the blackboard, and if you don't get something the first time it's said you're screwed unless you ask the professor to repeat it, another thing that high school doesn't ween you toward nearly enough. My advice: find a reason to be interested in everything you're being told, because if you don't then it's harder than hell to keep up with the reading and process the material you're being taught. If you're taking biology, like I am, and hate anything to do with science, like I do, pretend for a second that you're life depends on finding the nucleus of the onion slide you're looking at through the microscope, like, maybe there's some deranged terrorist bastard behind you with a shotgun insisting rather stubornly that you pay attention...

Parties aren't just a Saturday night thing, either, like your mommy and daddy might've told you they are. Parties are all week. Parties are all day. Parties are all night. Hell, parties are just about everywhere you look, and it's very hard to ignore that part of your brain that insists you hit all of them (especially if certain beverages are being offered...I've been tricked by this more than once!) Remember, what you get out of college heavily depends upon how often you decide to party compared to how often you decide to buckle down and hit the books. Take my advice, partying your ass off at the frat house across the block while you should be studying all night for the next day's sociology test is NEVER smart if you plan on occupying your dorm for longer than a few weeks. John Belushi may've made college look like a 24/7 beerfest, but if that's the sort of life you want for yourself then don't bother throwing down your parents hard-earned 35 G's instead of just going down the street and lounging back. It's entirely up to you.

Football's fun. I feel I should throw that in here somewhere since it's part of the title of this post. Go to football games every chance you get, even if you loathe the sport the way I do. You meet people as you get into the mob mentality, and you even get a few bruises and shattered teeth to remember your first team victory by! (See, there's always a bright side.) Think of it this way, if you don't go the football games you'll end up being the only one stuck in your dorm while everyone else is out having fun. Don't be a recluse. Get out and cheer for some heads to be ripped off!

Relationships suck. You may think you want to get serious with some girl the first week of school but it's not worth the heartache, EVER, even if she seems like the type of girl you'd like to hang with on more impressionable terms. Be her friend. It works WAY better that way, and you'll enjoy each others company a lot more. Remember kids: the number one killer of friendships are the words "Yes, I like you that way." Lie your ass off. Be her friend and find someone else.

Sex isn't always everything. Let me make this clear: Sex isn't always everything. Don't go hooking up with the first girl who doesn't turn her back when you start rambling to her about those turdsuckers in Michigan--ignore those God-forsaken hormones and think logically. Just as you'd be asked questions while passing through a line at an airport, there are a few questions you should ask yourself before passing through your zipper. Number One: is this girl hot? C'mon. I'm not shallow, so don't even go there, but I have had the experience of waking up to a guy's screaming from down the hall when he wakes up the next morning with Wolverine laying next to him under the covers. If you want to do charity, give a few bucks to the Ronald McDonald house; if you want to be happy, however, forget about how 'free spirited' and 'peppy' she is and think of what your dad'll say when you bring this girl home with your kid nine months after a condom happens to rip from heavy usage. Number Two: has she asked you any strange questions in the midst of your--assumed!--conversation, such as "what are your thoughts on STDs?" or even "have you ever eaten at Joe's Crab Shack?" Be very wary on how things are phrased! And if you get the chance, slip in a few questions of your own. Number Three: Do you have the essentials, assuming she is safe? Don't be coy--you know exactly what I'm talking about. Do you have condom(s) on you? Do you have a clean dorm room with a bed made and covers pulled back with a little green mint on the pillow? Do you have a big black 'X' written on the blackboard on your room so that your roommate knows not to come knocking?

I'll say it again: I'm not a shallow guy. I simply don't believe college "relationships" should go anywhere past the covers, and more often than not you'll find that nobody else believes so either, at least not for a Freshman.

Don't bother packing razors in your duffel bag, unless you're a girl or something and you have obscenely hairy legs which need shaven (in which case, I'm pro-razorblade all the way!) You don't need a shaver while in college: let your freak flag fly and grow it all out! I've never looked the best with patches of hair growing randomly on my face, but I'm starting to like the Grizzly Adams feeling, and whenever someone says to you "Grow up, Jackass!" you can respond logically with, "Yeah, well, at least I have a beard!!!" It may start a fight if the person you say it to is out of line and wears his heart on his sleeve, but if push comes to shove (or punch, or kick in the groin, or even 'bang!') think of it as another great memory to tell your kids one day.

"How did you get that scar on your face, Dad?"

Grunt. "Some a-hole without a super-cool beard got a lucky shot in..."

Enjoy your college life when it comes. Don't be afraid to make mistakes, because mistakes are not only fun to make, but like most good manure, they're good for growth!

Had a pretty fun last few days in Paradise. Aside from making a couple hundred bucks doing room service, I also had the opportunity to chill with a few friends at the mall and drift aimlessly from store to store with a Starbucks in my hand and no mindset at all to buy anything--sometimes a long walk around the mall is just what the doctor ordered when it comes to free time. I did, however, find a cool HIM t-shirt I'll probably end up buying...

Things have also been looking up on the writing front when it comes to progress: I've finished a few good chunks I've been setting aside for the proper time, and as far as I'm concerned they look pretty damn good for a first draft! I'm sure I'll have a lot of fine-tuning to get to in the near future, as always, and I'm taking plenty of notes on how I can improve every little thing.

The other night I took my little brother and sister to see the musical "Gilligan's Island" at the state theatre. Aside from being a little sloppy on the acting I thought it was downright fun, and that's coming from someone who's only watched the show a few times in his childhood and remembers very little about it. Whoever wrote the play had a fairly varied mindset: he seems to hate rich people, assuming they're all the same, as are scientists and single girls named Mary Anne, and he has a funny idea of how promiscuous girls 'survive' on a island with four guys and an alien.

Tonight I'm lounging around, relaxing, watching the super-awesome TV show "Supernatural." I'm thinking of going to bed before long, drifting asleep to the sound of the Beatles and dreaming of the day I buy a pet monkey. Hell, I might have a change of heart any second now and decide to pull an all-nighter with one of my stories, pushing the gas down a little harder and throtling forward toward the end (I've been doing this more and more lately, a habit I sort of like to be honest.)

Later people!

Oh, and P.S--I'm now an official registered stand-up comedian on ohiocomedy.com. Be sure to check it out!

After almost a year of watching trailers and clips via the internet, after months of mourning Heath Ledger's untimely death, after weeks of hearing the rumor that Mr. Ledger's performance just might be Oscar-worthy, Christopher Nolan's film "The Dark Knight" finally hit theatres, and I was one of the many stoked enough about the film to pay the extra few bucks and go to the midnight showing. I've been to a few special showing like this before ("Revenge of the Sith," "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix," "The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe,") but let me tell you, NONE of them blew me away like this one.

"The Dark Knight" isn't simply a film aimed at fans of the comic books and TV shows, as were the last few pathetic sequels starring the terrible likes of Jim Carrey, Chris O' Donnel, George Clooney and Tommy Lee Jones, but it was a film for everybody, giving an incentive message about terrorism, sanity, right and wrong, and what separates a villain from a vigilante (which, after all, is a theme which can be brought back again and again in superhero movies.)

Heath Ledger gives a shocking performance as The Joker, a man with no clear past who tells several different stories of where he came from and how he got the disgusting scars on his cheeks which form a permanent smile, and along with the flamboyant madness which Jack Nicholson contributed to the character in Tim Burton's original film, Ledger adds something monstrous to the character which reflects heavily on Alex from the timeless shocker "A Clockwork Orange." Ledger's version of the joker has no rules: he's completely amoral about what he does, looking at everything as two-sided (two-faced, if you will,) and along with his way of making your skin crawl with his twisted sense of humor, he makes you question the idea of "planning" in life, showing how plans that go through don't always turn out for the greater good and that anarchy is the only true way of living. Perhaps one of the most unique things about Ledger's Joker is his idea of fun: killing, pure and simple. He doesn't kill for money nor fame (which he proudly shows by burning a stack of millions of dollars in front of a lower 'class' of criminals,') he kills because it's who he is and what he claims to be good at.

Aaron Eckhart plays Harvey Dent (A.K.A: Two-Face,) the perpetual "White Knight" of Gotham that gives people a hero with a face and a set of rules, something Batman could never do. People look to him as a beacon of hope, one of the cities purest and bravest officials. This plays right into the Joker's game, though: if he can prove to Gotham that nobody is truly one-sided, that everyone can break their own rules for their own reasons, he will have proven that he's not the only one of his kind, that madness is nothing but a condition that anyone can be pushed into. This is Nolan's true message behind the film, I believe: sometimes rules need to be broken, even if people hate you for it (like many Americans hate Mr. Bush for tapping into our phone lines for national security) but you have to have true ends to justify your means, which seperates "freaks" like the Joker from "vigilantes" like the Batman.

The film is full of philosophy and surprise, even if you feel the commercials have spoiled everything about it (which, by the way, they DEFINITELY don't!) This is a film you may have to sit through more than once to fully absorb the art of rather than just the action. I know it's a film I'm going to watch many, many times over just for the smaller and more meaningfull scenes.

So there's my two-cents on "The Dark Knight," open in theatres everywhere and in special edition I-MAX locations (which may make it even more worth your while.) If you're a Ledger fan or a Batman fan, you may find this to be the best work along the lines of either.

P.S--I've updated some of my past reviews on the blogsite and also on IMDB.com, that is, for those of you interested in the other strange movies I find so meaningful.

I don't know how many of you have had the extreme displeasure of throwing down eight bucks to see a movie which promised a heafty delivery, only to find out upon watching it that you'd been suckered into a watching a piece of crap that a four year-old could've written the premise of on the back of a used lunch tray. Lemme tell you, oh brother: we have at least that much in common, and if we ban together we can stop the all-time crappy filmmaker from creating these gargantuan heaps of loose storyline and bloodshed.

I'm talking, of course, about M. Night Shymalains. This monster has been taking our hard-earned money for far too long.

First it was "The Sixth Sense," which was alright at best, with a twist you might not have seen coming the first time watching but leaves no room for interest the second time around. Now, I'm as much a fan of movies with twists as any other internet-surfing-trailer-and-movie-clip-seeking fanboy out there, but it's irritating as Hell when you can only watch a film once and then get tired of it after that point (which is REALLY crappy when you spent $20 on the damn DVD! Ugh...I have buyer's remorse all over again!)

Next he took our money all over again with the release of "Signs," a movie Mel Gibson broke his spinal cord of acting by participating in. The aliens sucked in this movie (they couldn't even bust through WOODEN DOORS for Christsake!) I have to say, though, that Joaquin Phoenix did make a hearty comeback after this fartblock by signing onto "Gladiator" and "Walk the Line," which are, without a doubt, two of his few great movies.

Was twice enough to put this money grubbing sack of "what if"s back in his parents' basement? NO! He then went on to release "The Village," a movie which appeared spooky and intruiging only on the movie poster, promising thrills and crazy monsters but delivering boredom rivaled only by games like "Monopoly" and "Scrabble." To fall in love with this movie is to admit to yourself "Yes, my life really IS meaningless. Maybe good ol' Wal-Mart's having a sale on rope this weekend..."

And then--DUN-DUN-DUN!!!--let's have a round of disgusted applause for his latest try at a good movie: "The Happening." Or, as I refer to it, "The CRAPpenning."

Let me be simple, since it IS my fellow ripped-off movie-goers reading this (no offense!): Do NOT, under any circumstance, go see this movie. Remember that classic Jap movie "The Ring?" The one with a tape that kills you from watching it? Well, this is the 91-minute manifestation of that tape: if you watch this film you WILL DIE...from laughing and screaming at all the terrible acting and screenwriting! When I bought my ticket at the window, even the clerk said, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go see 'Iron Man' or 'Narnia?' I'm telling you, this movie sucks the big one, man..." Mark Whalberg's soft-voiced lubby-dubby extra-sensitive teacher character is way too over the top to even be thought of in the first draft of the damn script! I mean, come on! I know eighth-graders who could write better characters than this! And the twist of the movie--ready for me to spoil it for you, if the basic premise hasn't already done so?--the big scary monster in this ketchup-bloody film is nothing but trees and grass and the environment. And guess who the actual "bad guy" supposedly is? You and me. We brought this on ourselves, or so think M. Night Shmuckalamanainians and Al Gore and all the other environmentalist suckwhads with a liberal agenda.

These aren't movies that this butthole makes: they're stains left on the couch cushion from mental masturbation, little tiny thoughts and oohs and ahhs that he puts on paper rather than a good story.

Well...all else I can say is this--the same eerie message on movie poster:

I sensed it.

I saw "Signs."

Now..."The CRAPpening!"

Join the cause and fight dumbass filmmakers by joining my group on Facebook: The He-man M. Night Shymalain Haters (of America!)

Started watching the first season of a show the other day called "Supernatural." I've gotta say, most of the time when network TV tries to do a show with a horror theme it turns into something foul and ugly (Tales from the Crypt; Masters of Horrror; Dexter,) but THIS show breaks that rule in a big way: it's freaking intense! I'm halfway through the box already and bought the second season almost instantly after watching the first six episodes--this is one purchase a true horror fan won't regret, especially if you're into the tradional themes of ghosts, vampires, urban legends, and demonic possessions that don't pay tribute to movies like "The Exorcist" at every turn.

The other show I'm currently watching which has been on my shelf for a while is called "Curb Your Enthusiasm," written by Larry David, who also wrote the hit sitcom "Seinfeld." One of the many things that struck me about this show is that it's almost completely ad-libbed with NO script written beforehand, just a concept and a basic outline of where every scene should be geared toward. It may seem a little too experimental for those who like shows that are linear and unvarying, but I think it's funny as hell and over the top--good enough for my tastes!

Things have been pretty quiet on the writing front lately, being that I work mostly nights, which is when I'm used to sitting at the kitchen table at home at zoning into the fictional worlds I've created for two and a half hours at a time. Like many writers, painters, and other creative minds, I'm a creature of habit and find it very unsettling to change my pattern of activity around to suit other parts of life.

The good news, though, is that I'm closing in on the climax of my current first draft, which is a very exciting thing to me personally since the end of this story is something I've been longing to write for somethng like a year now--it's a bittersweet ending, but I think it's one of the BEST endings I've ever come up with, bringing things to a close in a way that puts actual life into the character. To me, that's always the goal, whether I'm working on a religious story for the church newsletter or a gruesome horror story for my own peace of mind--bringing reality into everything, no matter how obscure or unrealistic it really is.

Catch you on the flip side!