Raining again today. Cold for the end of May.

Threat rating: Medium. Your total lack of decent
family values makes you dangerous, but we can
count on some right wing nutter blowing you up
if you become too high profile.

What threat to the Bush administration are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Special thanks to Todd.

I think my problem is I just can't sit still.

TinyDancer30982: mmm mmmmm
The White Stick: Looks like we're in agreement.
The White Stick: Either that or you're choaking on something.
TinyDancer30982: no i think that would be more like "kkkkk chhh ggac"

Goddammit, I'm getting fucking old.

It's hard to take a nap because when you do people keep calling you and then you feel guilty for not working.

The problem is that I have trouble coming home. Ever.

I can't believe I wrote a personal check for $9,978.00 today.

There's nothing like a call that comes way too late to wake you out of a deep sleep.

When I said something about kitchens, totally out of context, I nudged her in the back. Just so she was sure I was talking about her. She, in her turn, kicked me in the shins. It was an intensly private moment shared in a public setting; and god did it feel good.

So last night I had a really great time listening to the Little Shop of Horrors soundtrack. I guess I've been closeted about my love for the American musical for a long while.

There are a few things in life worth losing sleep over. And you, darling, are certainly one of them.

As it turns out one can tell when I'm close to my male friends when I start to hit on them and that when I'm close to my female friends when I stop being serious when I hit on them.

While I'm very happy with the way my day and my evening turned out, I will admit it's hard to get calls from Chris when he's drunk and know that I'm not there. As much as I love this town, and I do, I love him more.

And a great big ding on why dating sucks. Or at least on why I'm bad at it.

So Joe's Basement Loans came though for me. With a whooping interest rate of 15%. Which is a whole fuckin' ton. But, in all seriousness, whatever.
"Here I go again on my own. Like a twister I was born to walk alone. I've made up my mind. I ain't waisting no more time."

TinyDancer30982: not like there is someone else that i'm waiting to call me that i would want to hang with instead

NPR interviewed a lighting designer today about the abuses in Iraq. That's crazy.

I had a rather odd dream last night about Big Bird at a Cock Convention. And not cocks is roosters, but cocks as in penises. I don't know if he was trying to raise awareness or celebrate or whatever, but it was on the news and I ended up showing up at the event. Does this mean I'm a misogynist?

Chairs are not your friends.

Monica Fosket is passed out on my bed. Just thought you should know.

Holy crap! All of the blankets on my bed are folded. That's amazing.

So I am starting my own private little romance here. It's nice in its subtle softness.

How is it that I know people who don't drive?

Those are the shows that I really love. The shows when it's just you and me against the whole goddamned world, and no one knows that we don't get any rehearsal time and no one cares. And here we are, laughing and joking and sweating the whole time. And when it's up it looks great and we're flying. We were made to fly, trained to fly, so once that curtain goes up there's no keeping us on the ground. And when it comes down we say it looked great, and it did. And no one knows. But us. And really, that's all that matters.

As I read these things, as I look back and the feelings come somewhat muted, but still deep and powerful, I realize that spring last year life was nearly perfect. That I was there. Wherever I wanted to end up, I had arrived. And, ironically enough, that's most likely why I had to leave.

When she said to me, "You're so cute, I'm so glad that you like me." I couldn't help but thinking, 'You've just now noticed this?'

My printer, for no discernable reason, just printed a single heart on a piece of paper. I find this to be a sweet gesture but somewhat disconcerting.

God bless you, Kelli O'Toole. For this, of course. But more so, I think, for what that is able to mean to me, and what you are able to mean to me. Pardon my tenuous state and desire to say things as grandly as I can, but thank you for being.

Girls will be the end of me. But what a glorious end it will be.

The White Stick: Of course there's truth in it, why would I lie?
TinyDancer30982: i don't think you're lying, i just think you're being silly
The White Stick: Well if honesty is silly, then call me a fool.

So I have a lot of things to do today, not the least of which is sleeping.

Kristin told me tonight that she thinks that I'm going to be throwing a really big party on Saturday. I am hopeful. But history has taught me the cost of being excited.

Happy Birthday, Ryan Heppis!

So people were saying something about being twenty two and how suddenly there's nothing worth waiting for. That you've been waiting to do this and then do this and then do that. I was happy to vote, I never bought cigarettes. I never wanted to go to bars until after I had turned twenty one, and am still a little hesitant. But what would I be waiting for? (All we're waiting for is for something worth waiting for) Is my heart not beating? Are my lungs not engaged in the slow inhale/exhale? Am I not alive right now? Why should I wait for some magical moment to drink deep from life's cup? Why not just drink it now? If now it is just a footrace unto death, that I have hoped the state-imposed hurdles, then I intend to sprint all the way to my grave.

I think I over estimated the weather today. Which I really thought I had learned that lesson about Chicago, but I guess not. Wishful thinking.

And suddenly Josh realizes that he had been living like a filthy bastard.

Fantastic birthday party last night.

Dreams of romance last night. A light skinned blonde girl with too much mascara was sleeping next to me on the floor. On the beanbag in my room (highly unromantic). And we awoke and she was crying about how I didn't pay enough attention to her (how unromantic). It was painfully obvious that whatever the nature of this relationship was, and I was somewhat unclear myself in the dreaming state, that it had begun only a short time ago and that such an emotional out pouring seemed excessive. I do remember one bit of dialogue, she had been talking about how she really liked me and, referring to the relationship, had been hoping to "ride me for a long time." I replied, "That's what I was hoping, too," with a wink. She was not comforted, and what's worse, she didn't get it. You'd think I'd dream up more interesting girls.
I dreamt a dream of romance and I wish it was you
I dreamt a dream of romance and I wish it was true

Huh, when you think about it, it sure seems like a long time. But really, I didn't find it all amiss that I never made it home yesterday.

So it's Easter and I'm in Chicago. Not only am I not with my family, the majority of my friends in the city are not with their families either. I had never much considered Easter to be a family holiday to begin with. I don't know if it's a comment on theatre kids or Chicago kids but when we've been talking about shows this weekend people have said, "But it's Easter," our response in unison was, "Really?"

While I love Lightwright very much, I will admit that the most annoying thing about it is the fact that you can't just scroll though the damn pages when you're looking at your layout to make sure that everything works all nice and neat.

Maybe that was my problem all along. Not that I was necessarily doing anything wrong just that I was doing too many of the right things. When everything seems so correct it’s hard to decide what should go. But maybe I should think about who I am, ‘cause to an extent I do know myself. I should learn to live my life that way, rather than trying to make my life fit into what I think that people should be.

"So what's the meaning of life," I say. "It's something I've been thinking a lot about recently." And then she responds, "I don't think it has anything to do with lighting design."

Where are you, my beautiful, bird-like girl? I go to bed at night my head full of thoughts of you. But if I could hold you, would I dare?

It's still windy and cold, but at least the sun is shining.

So I was taking a short nap on the L today when some kid punched me in the face. Shit man, that was some rude.

I'm not one of those friends that you have to hang out with exclusively. I'm more than willing to become a part of your greater life experience.

I feel like I'm the perpetual friend. That I'm the sort of guy that you're friends with. I do believe that I fall in love quickly, but that the love I fall into isn't the sort of earth-shaking love that movies are based on. The love I fall into is the simple sort of love that I think is what people are getting at when they say, "I love you like a brother." How, exactly, does one love ones brother? Am I my brothers keeper? And do I love that which I keep more or less than that which I let go? To have and to hold. Am I not keeping you when I say these words? Does love imply possession. In my loving you does that put a claim that goes beyond a simple emotional connection? Chuck Palahniuk would tell me that it's only when you've lost everything are you free to do anything. This sort of rabid freedom is of course something that at first thought any American would casually nod their head to. Roger O. Hirson (author of Pippin) agrees to a certain extent, but goes on to say that this lack of freed is a good thing with the closing line to the show, "Trapped. But happy." So to a certain extent one could disagree with me, "How can you say you fall in love easily when you don't know what love it?" And as much as I could say that I "just know," what I do just know is that isn't an appropriate response to that question. I think it's possible that the reason I've stayed away from love relationships is that I've been over thinking them rather than over feeling them, which I think is just knowing.

Bed offically sex compliant.

Eggs this morning. Diners are good.

It's hard to find a good reason to drink every night in a row.

So I think I'm about to embark on a second date?

You just get to the point where you never get up because you never ever want to.

I'm in the mood to sit around with old friends and do little to nothing. Maybe watch a movie, but rest, mostly. Sleep with a beautiful girl's head resting on my shoulder.

The fact that I've somehow turned myself into both a lighting jerk and a womanizer without either one of them being true has added a wonderful edge of surrealism to my life.

I tend to put friendship before any sort of sexual leaning. Sometimes I wonder if that's really the policy I should adopt.

I know I've known this for a while, but I just figure that I should state (for the record, in case Big Brother really is watching) that house parties, for the most part, are a post-pubescent mating ritual.

Happy World Theatre Day!

Drunk again, drunk again. I am in what could easily be classified as a good mood.

I was just glancing though my purple notebook and I stumbled upon the page in which I started my Chicago Phone list. There's a quick note about Jesse Kopp's phone number, because it was Laura’s birthday and I wanted to call her to wish her a happy one. But more specifically I remember that moment that I scratched that note in the diner with Natalie, having been into the space for the second time without noticing the skylight, and we were able to talk like people and have a good ol' time. I ordered eggs.

My room is fucking filthy. And I am fucking exhausted.

Emily Jane Baldoni is sleeping on my floor. She took the train in this morning and we went for some pizza Chicago-style deep dish pizza. I suppose not your regular fair, but it was the first really appealing place that we passed. A bit of a meeting and some work in the afternoon, because it's not like I've got a full day off coming to me until at least May. After that we went to go see The Day They Shot John Lennon at Columbia. One of these directing projects. Maybe it has something to do with spending most of the day together talking or maybe it has something to do with knowing each other for going on five years now and her being one of the most important people in my life, but either way watching this show next to Emily was one of the most enjoyable things I've done in a long while. Now she's sleeping on my floor and I'll be sorry to see her go tomorrow, but there is some part of me that knows if she stayed that I couldn't be as busy as I am, that I couldn't neglect such friendships, such people, the way that I do to the people and relationships that signed on after I became the person I am today.

Feeling both happy and sad. Heavy thoughts on this night in Las Vegas, er, Chicago.

Am I going back to bed? Oh yeah. I'm not letting that stupid alarm keep me up. Motherfucker.

While other people might think it somewhat laudable, I find it highly amusing that I can be holding a pencil in my mouth and move my head closer to my drafting forgetting the pencil and therefore slam it into my teeth. The only thing I don't find amusing about it is when I leave a mark on the vellum.

Man, I guess this is why I shouldn't get excited about people coming to see my shows.

Happy Birthday, Kelli O'Toole!

I finally feel asleep on the train enough that I missed my stop on the way home.

I think you're right, Molly, it is easier to love the ideal. I guess the other problem is that I've been loving the ideal for so long, that even in reality I won't settle for anything less.

Happy Birthday, Chris Wright!

My feet smell like old cheese.

While I don't know if denotatively "god bless" is what I'm thinking, but I know that connotatively it is exactly what I'm getting at.

I promise I won't take the gloomy darkness at the Ruth Page for granted anymore.

Geeze, why the fuck am I up so early?

Another button fell off. Maybe I should have a coat with a zipper.

Damn it is cold today.

So I wrote this almost a year ago to the day. I suppose I could bring up the old cliché that you should be careful what you wish for. But if that's the way you're thinking, though, I suppose you should be careful of living at all, for you're bound to die. Rather, though, I'm going to say that it's still a beautiful world and I'm glad that you're still in it. And wholly predictably volatile. I will also say that the more things change the more they stay the same. I am now still (but not continuously) tired but hopeful. Tired for similar reasons and hopeful for new ones.

For some reason my left hand smells strongly of smoke and I am very tired. Some things are more easily explained than others.

Happy Birthday, Laura Tennal!

So, to be honest with you, it doesn't matter how much shit I have to do, there is something about the call of a greasy diner and conversation with an old friend that will always pull me away.

Happy Birthday, Todd Presson!

I took an inordinate amount of abuse tonight.

Why is it that when I might have the time for love I'm more interested in looking around, and when I'd rather just have love I don't have the time for it?

Second night, same pair of pants. Still no shower. What could it all mean?

I feel as I am on the verge ... of understanding how Chicago has been so wonderful to me. Here I am, going balls to the wall on this class project, and not only am I understanding it, but I'm having fun with it too. I have cut my teeth, now I am sharpening them.

I am collecting belly button lint at a rate that can only be described as alarming.

After all of that pain in the ass I actually am making it to DeKalb tonight.

In like a lion. God bless spring!

Mad Shak show closing tonight. Strike after. The weather is warming up, and for that I am overjoyed.

Second hardest tech ever.

Does it make me a loser that the latest I've been up in months was because I was working?

Worked a beauty pageant tonight. Came to a couple of conclusions. Or rather I feel that now is a good occasion to say some things that I think I've known for a long while. The first of which is that while I can say I am attracted to beautiful people I don't find it particularly sexually arousing. While I can appreciate their beauty knowing full well that I won't ever have sex with them, and what's more that I don't know them at all, I'm not particularly interested in that fashion. And what's more, while they are beautiful, I don't feel the same way I do about them as, say, in regards to a painting or a piece of music or a show that is beautiful. Ugly people can create beautiful things and there is still some part of me that rails somewhat about excessive narcissism. The fact that one of these girls made five grand tonight just by being pretty I think shows something a bit off about certain priorities and so on. Polish men are just as hot as Polish women. Running a manual two scene preset board is some hard work. Board ops back in the day really should have gotten paid really well, 'cause that shit ain't easy.

Had a dream last night regarding TV's The Apprentice with none other than Donald Trump. I've watched maybe ten minutes of air time of this show, and heard a couple of statements regarding it, no real conversations about or around it. Part of the dream was Mr. Trump and four of the apprentices standing around a parking lot in the middle of the night and he was telling stories of his youth and so on, genuinely being a really nice guy. What was funny about this, I think, is that I thought to myself that it was strange, as I always figured Mr. Trump would be an asshole. The scene in the dream would keep cutting to two of the apprentices sitting on the hood of a car, a man and a woman, talking about the same thing, "Gee, I never realized he wasn't a jerk." That sort of thing. Then, suddenly, the woman said something about upping her chances of winning the big prize and came up to Mr. Trump and offered him oral sex. This caused a cut to commercial break (the contents of which was not in the dream) and was followed by a The Apprentice gone wild cut scene of the original eight or so women sitting around a hot tub trying to lick their nipples. Their own nipples, not each others. Apparently Mr. Trump had told them to try. Suddenly the male apprentices show up and they're really hot and they're jumping in the hot tub and people are holding hands and the flirting is about as steamy as the water. Then we somehow cut to my real life and Brad is trying to lick his nipple without success and then Rachel gets out the foreplay dice and tries to changes the rules of this nipple licking game. I try to explain to them that they can't do that, as it's not really a 'game' but more of an order from the station to try and get the ratings up and there's nothing to be done about it. But I guess I didn't have physical form in this dream, as I was never much aware of my body, so I suppose I must have been channeling watching television, in which the action goes on but you are powerless to do anything about it. Suddenly back in the hot tub one of the men says, "Is there anything that you wanted from us?" And one of the woman responds, "Your bodies, of course" and jumps onto his back. It was sometime around here that I woke up. The moral of the story is I think it's official that television has rotted my mind.

I just threw my socks into the wrong laundry basket. I went to see Our Lady of 121st Street at Steppenwolf tonight. It's much more scary for someone to ask for you for an eight ball of coke while waiting for the train when you're a little tipsy. I got a call from Jamie Lewis tonight. Totally made my night. Apparently yesterday was her 20th birthday. I need more snack food in my house. Yesterday I got a job with the Rockford Dance Academy (Company?). Show goes up in April. Highest paid job I have to date. Happy birthday to me. I can't believe I have class at 8:30 this morning.

I keep trying to take my gloves off when I'm outside and my hands keep getting cold. Man cannot rush the time nor the tide.

So it's pretty early, and I'm pretty tired, but despite this I feel like I should 'do' something else before I go to bed. That my free time is important and I shouldn't use it as much as I can.

Went to DeKalb this afternoon to see SCS. Pretty good show. The lighting leaving a fair amount to be desired. Good performances put in by Natalie and Laura and Michelle. Michelle has a pretty amazing face, it emotes fairly completely. Wonderful choreography by Allison Hudson. I'm going to be very sad when she gets her degree and then heads back to the sticks to meddle with mediocrity. Took Ping with me, dropped her off and then got back late. Now I'm feeling kind of lonely. I've been asking some hard questions and I don't have any answers. I want to sit down over some coffee with someone who means the world to me and talk about the way in which we live our lives.

Strange dreams last night about terrorism and an opening of some sort.

Now I do believe in love. And I'd be willing to go so far as to say I support it most, if not all, of the time. The thing I believe most about love is that it is hard. That it does, indeed, endure. That while it can rage like an inferno I find it more enjoyable and more complete when it is subtle. The subtlety, I guess, is not public. Cuddling a on the train seems somewhat off putting to me. Dancing to the street performers, staring deep into each other's eyes, while waiting for the train makes me feel as if the whole thing is cheep and tawdry and, worse yet, can be an excuse to use the misery of others for your own enjoyment. Now while I have had no specific issue with Valentines Day to date, I have to say taking public transportation around Chicago yesterday did put a damper on my experiences. But the jury should also note that this is coming from a source to whom Rachel said, "You're one of the lowest maintenance people I know."

Happy Valentines!

Near miss on a flat tire tonight.

My life is a collection of misspellings and typos.

Though I hate to admit that I enjoyed watching television last night (I did) it is comforting, I guess, to know that Mary Ann will most likely not let me do it again, as it is highly possible I prevented her from enjoying some of her favorite shows.

Classes blessedly back in session today. VectorWorks followed by my four hour drawing class. I have Wendesdays off. Should be an interesting semester.

I thought Rachel was going to grab my nuts when she said hello this morning. Turns out she's just short.

So here I am, drunk again. I'd like to say that I'm full of poetry and love and dreams, and while that may be true, I'm mostly full of booze. I went out to dinner with Amy Jackson tonight, of Kalamazoo fame. Had some Italian and chatted for a long fuckin' time. I think I finally dropped her off at her hotel around 11 or so. As I was pulling away I thought of the party in DeKalb that I wanted to go to and the party at my place that I wanted to go to and the coffeehouse with the Columbia electricians that I wanted to go to and how I had put off doing any of these things by continuing to talk to Amy Jackson and I thought to myself, "This is what life is all about." And I meant it. Not that person, but a person that you can sit down over a meal and talk about things that you want to talk about, dance around with the words and forget to eat. Knowing that it doesn't have to mean anything more than this moment, a laugh, a smile, an understanding. Also knowing that with moments like this, there is nothing that means more.

Goddamn, I sober up fast.

I didn't know it was possible to pop your sternum, but I just did it. Felt pretty weird.

I swear video games will be the death of me.

If you're hungry; eat. If you're not; don't. If you have something to do; do it. At the end of the day go to bed.

Somehow I think there's a cricket in my room. But I can't seem to find it. And it is amazing how much like a Nextel phone it sounds.

I have just finished updating the ol' resume for online desplay. Yes, I sure as shit do this sort of thing when my computer can't get online. The nice thing about it is that it doesn't have to fit on one 'page' as a page is as long as I like, so I can just put everything on it.

Now would be one of those perfect times in life to invite a girl over to cuddle and watch a movie. Especially considering how cold it is in my place.

So I got a little email from Richard that had this little bit of goodness in it. I would be lying if I said I wasn't honored.

Goddamn motherfucking son of a bitch. So the network "card" on my new motherboard works last night. Then I go to sleep and nix on that shit today. This fuckin' computer shit is a pain in my ass.