Your cocktail sir,





2002-08-23 - 7:12 p.m.

I hate when nothing is going on. My life seems to be an emotionless gray area. Iíve been listless and bored with everything. I have a full weekend planned, but Iím not really looking forward to it. I feel stuck.

Oh great, everyone is thinking. Another diary where someone bitches about their feelings.

Yes. Well, they happen. If I was the star of my own WB drama, something like ďDefying GravityĒ would play as I type away at the keyboard to my laptop, a pensive yet attractive to at least 65% of the population look stamped on my features as I emoted concern. The apartment that would normally be priced well beyond my means and artfully strewn with items and flair to make me appear to be whatever the shows producers and art directors needed to sell American Eagle clothing, Pop Rock CDís, and lifestyle of the moment needed to sell advertising dollars. But actually, Iím in real life, so I donít have countless PAís to clean up my studio, or get me a lattť and the latest issue of Variety. There are dull stretches in my life rather than the 48 minutes plus credits where everything works out and valuable lessons are learned. Where I have politically correct friends and possibly a stereotypical neighbor and wacky adventures are had by all. And everything works out. Except one is doomed to repeat mistakes again and again in syndication, so maybe just once through with dull patches is allright.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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