This will be a collection of thoughts apropos of nothing and likely unrelated to one another. Expect nothing and enjoy.

—

On the highway this weekend I was cut off by a Sonata. I was giving it a close examination from behind (hey-oh) when I saw that the I and A were switched, so that the raised letters read “Hyundia.” For a moment, I wondered if it was a knockoff.

—

I watched Fast and Furious this weekend on a guy day with Dr. Mike. It was as advertised, but it did strangely give me motivation to get back on track with my training. I have more stage combat action in the next few months, and I will not rely on that for my workouts, as I have in the past. I think I could make a good stunt double for Vin Diesel, but I would need to get into appropriate shape and finish my training.

What really struck me while I was watching was that I used to throw myself whole-heartedly into this stunt stuff before I ever decided to do it for a living; however, now that I’m learning how to do it professionally, I’m so focused on correct technique and safety, that I don’t take enough risk.

Am I afraid to be hurt? A little, but I really should not be. If I were to be permanently injured, which is unlikely, it would be no different than if I had cancer, or contracted a disease somehow, or whatever. The only control I can exert over my bodily condition is, well, conditioning. But I may as well take the chance and get the glory. It’s more likely I’ll break an arm or something than do any permanent damage.

But I think it is similar to the block I have when sparring someone or playing a fighting game. I am so lasered in on proper, clean technique that I don’t improvise enough or let a little sloppy roundhouse score me a point. People who know me probably would not identify me as a type A, but when it comes to martial arts and the like, I do find myself a hard-ass about technique. If I want to make it as a stuntman, I gotta let that go. Discipline and conditioning channeled into boldness and freedom of motion. That’s the key.

Strange that I learned that from a plotless action movie, but there are lessons everywhere. And possibly lesions everywhere, and possibly they are one in the same.

—

I’m really enjoying Burning Crusade with my paladin. Maybe I understand gear better now, or I like Horde better, or something, but I really feel like I’m having fun playing the mid-end-game this time. Anyone know any good Horde guilds on Tanaris, by chance?

—

I finally have my FAFSA and application in to UW-M. I still don’t know whether I could focus on theater, which I would prefer. Probably there is not time to work full time and pursue an academic theater career. I’ll let the advisors at UW-M tell me for sure.

—

I finally got up and ran this morning, but it was too cold to gauge whether I like or dislike it. My lower back gave a few twinges of anger, but other than that, I don’t feel anything different. I’m going to do circuits tonight as well. Two-a-days for me until further notice.

When I was young — fourth grade is my best estimation — we took a field trip to a nature preserve of some kind. I don’t remember the bus ride, but I do remember that when I got there, it seemed to me we must have thousands of miles from anywhere. I thought I would be afraid, but instead I felt free. I was a latch-key kid, even then; I had grown accustomed to relying on myself. Granted, there were chaperones everywhere, but it felt a grand adventure.

Ostensibly, we were there to learn about nature and grasslands and whatever else you teach a fourth grader but the part of the trip that stands out in my mind was the little game they had us play. If you don’t know me well, it may surprise you that I was an insufferable nerd right up until around my freshman year in high school. Straight A’s, loner reading in the corner, video games in the summer, doing math for fun, acne and too much body fat… the whole shot. I learned to read when I was three because I wanted to be smart more than anything. Not too much has changed, but I have learned to be social, at least.

So, when the tour guide suggested a game where each student was going on a little treasure hunt, my ears perked up. We were given a map and a compass and told we were going to be “orienteering” to find our way to each step to the treasure. Needless to say, I was first to the treasure by about ten minutes, already looking for another challenge.

And I felt good about myself. I felt like I had triumphed.

No doubt much of this is washed in nostalgia and precocious childhood perspective, but I can’t say when I have since felt so strongly that the world was my oyster. That I had possibilities everywhere but driving direction.

Later in my life, when I was an apathetic teenager, my father would try to teach me how to orienteer in the wilderness without compass or map, but I paid little attention. One lesson did stick, though. Find your direction, orient on the sun and then head that direction without swerving. I managed well enough to find the truck when deer hunting.

I wonder here aloud (a-typed?) whether that sort of point-and-go attitude could get one through life. Worked for Teddy Roosevelt, right?

I was not cast in Noises Off! and now I’m not really sure what to do with myself. I had plans for very specific workshops this year, but I am second guessing in the afterglow of an unsuccessful audition. Not being cast was disappointing, of course, and there are other things where I might be a shoo-in. I think instead I will focus on personal growth outside of a show. Fitness, education, and simple meditation.

But I’ll probably change my mind tomorrow. What can I say? For me, the horizon is a moving target.

This article I don’t care much about, and I think Huffington Post can be overboard on the liberal tip, but this is a solid point.

I've always been amused at the idea that a religious person can say that an atheist will burn in hell as a result of their beliefs, and that is not considered offensive; but if an atheist says that believing in God makes no sense, that is considered deeply offensive. One person is charging the other with faulty logic; the other is charging them with a base immorality that warrants eternal torture. How is the former even vaguely more insulting than the latter?

via Cenk Uygur: The Silent Minority.

My friend, Ricky Gervais, and I are visiting a cherry orchard with some very salt-of-the-earth people, who invite us to lunch in their barn-like open eating area. As we chat and eat, I notice that the place is also my apartment.

Ricky is wearing a shirt which is completely black, but which is also completely yellow and covered in some black hand-made lettering spelling out some phrase that I mentioned to him was indicative of our friendship.

As a prank on the people of the orchard, Ricky has sealed something in a brown packing envelope. He opens it to reveal a vaguely face-hugger-y thing which immediately begins to screech and squiggle out of his grasp to skitter along the ground.

Eventually I catch the thing by stabbing it with a large fork, I fling it into my kitchen sink and cram parts of it into the garbage disposal and switch it on. The thing seemingly dies, but to be sure, I continue to force feed it into the in-sink-erator. Somehow the device is actually beneath the opening, though, and it slides to one side, allowing the creature to fall partially into the cabinet beneath the sink. Meanwhile, Ricky is laughing his characteristic, high-pitched cackle.

As I continue to struggle with the monster, I begin to yell at my friend Ricky for thinking this would be a funny prank to pull. He’s having none of it. After a brief spat, he makes for the door. I yank the rest of the creature out of the sink and shove the remains back into the package, yelling, “Well, you’re taking this with you.”

As he reaches the outer door of my apartment, I see the words on his t-shirt and am suddenly moved. He’s not the sort to wear anything but black, but he is wearing this homemade shirt with our phrase on it. I apologize, we hug, he leaves.

Still in progress, but feedback appreciated.

FYI, the fortunes are all ones I have actually received.

So, because I don’t really list all the links I find, I wanted to make a little mini-blog over there –>

You’ll find a list of my most recent links on delicious.com. Some of it sucks. But better that it suck in the sidebar.

The main focus of this site will shift ot more diary-style, probably, but it’s my site and that means focus should be lacking. Should be. By design. Sit on it, Potsie.

And speaking of design, I am still working on updating that.

Not surprising that TED is still awesome.

EDIT: I don’t know her other work. This was still a good speech.

–originally authored 8 October, 2008 —

People always ask me, “How did the show go?” I have performed now as an actor in fewer than ten shows, so maybe that answer becomes easier. That or the response should be a simple, canned “Good, thanks.” That’s never been my way, but I could learn to make small talk if the need arose.

So, how did the show go? Good, thanks. If you’re someone who wants to burrow into my brain a little deeper than that and who fears not the tedious and sometimes maudlin re-treading of my superiority/ inferiority complex, then venture past the link, thou intrepid soul.
(more…)