Our Dinner Party

Posted 11:54 PM by sean
I can beat myself up all I want, but my friends and I decided to have a really small little dinner party, just a couple of sweet people who wanted to get together on the anniversary and feel better. We did.

I made amazing food. I'm starting to get really good at a pretty limited menu. I want to be better with vegetables, but I feel like I have a good feel for fish and meat.

Of course, right now, my stomach is killing me.





It was really nice, and we managed to miss all the 2 year crap on TV, which I have to assume was just unbearable. We drank wine, we talked theater and art, we talked about bullshit, we played basketball on tv, and we didn't think about terrorists. I don't know if that means they won or what, but we just didn't think about it at all, all night.

The War

Posted 2:42 PM by sean
I have only a minute or two. Last night was excrutiating, today's hangover from the piercing migraine I had feels almost worse, but you can't let a day like today pass without comment.

For some reason, the only thing I feel about today is shame. There is something amusing about figuratively standing up and shooting out your shame instead of just feeling it privately, but sometimes this blog is just me standing in judgement over just me.

I felt ashamed of the people who attacked us, other people who are exactly like me, and, after about six weeks, I felt mounting shame for our President's reaction to the whole ordeal. For those six weeks, New York came together under our Mayor and seemed to stand together, united in an effort to heal each other and to help each other. The fact that it didn't last and didn't work at all makes me feel ashamed as well.

My brother Kent has our emails from that time posted elsewhere on the web, and I honestly can't read them. My emails just seem like self congratulatory lies. I did do all the stuff I wrote about, but I did them half so I could write something cool and half because everyone else was doing it, which sums up my life basically. I always have one eye on the audience and one eye on the other actors, judging myself as comparison and by applause, not by action.

It is a sad time for me right now. Realizing I could easily leave my theoretical dreams behind to pursue a life on more solid economic footing, realizing that many of my friendships are with people I don't have any admiration for, just a shared history, realizing that having ideas is about 2% of getting those ideas implemented. It's a sad time, sad changes are happening to me.

But on a national scale, I am humiliated that the victims can sue the city, I'm dismayed that a once united western consciousness was essentially disregarded by our president, and I am appalled that many of the firemen who were lucky enough to survive the WTC attacks are now losing their jobs to the new economy.

Even more so, I'm ashamed that I didn't change for the better, that we didn't learn, and that we couldn't make anything good come from this.

All kidding aside

Posted 10:48 PM by sean
I got some funny responses from my last blog. Relax. You can't help it if your blog sucks.

On a completely different note, it's interesting to me that everything in life involves some kind of compromise. It may seem simple to say, but it is profound as hell to me. The people who learn to balance and compromise their lives seem to be a shitload better put together than I am.

There is a sort of fantasy that I guess men must have about women, My own fantasies are too twisted for print, but I see these idealized Madonna/Whores everywhere in popular culture, so there has to be something there. We apparently want a woman who will have sex with us with relative ease, who will do kinky ass stuff with us at the drop of a dime, but who wouldn't do it with any other human being on the planet. Unless, of course, we wanted them to and we could watch.

So, right away, y'know, just forget it. You aren't gonna find that geisha prostitute virgin with the double jointed hips who will hold your hand when you have the pukes, so make peace with it and decide what your priorities are.

New York is a clusterfuck, to be sure, but the give and take here is obvious. I have never lived anywhere where the truth of this idea was more apparent. How much money do you want? Where do you want to live? How much room do you need? How many people do you want to live with?

See, the answers to these questions can't be what you think they're gonna be. Because all of the things you want become mutually exclusive. My poor sister made some decisions based on what she really wanted, and her whole life became the commute to and from work, the picking up a billion extra shifts, the nightmare of living hand to mouth. Now, she is realizing that she has prioritized these answers, and she's gonna change her life into somethings she doesn't want so she can have all the things she *really* wants.

I want to live, just me and my fiance. And, I want to have money, lots of it, money left over, y'know, all over the place. I want money all over my bed and I want to roll around in it. So, this aint happening, obviously. But I have discovered that my priorities are such that making money is way more important to me than I realized.

And you got to love that about a place. New York forces you to make decisions, to prioritize, and that's gotta be the way you learn about yourself.

All right, this blog wasn't all that funny. But seriously, it's funnier than yours.

Holy Crap

Posted 1:21 PM by sean
All right, my only excuse is that I am up at ten to two in the morning because I might have a small-scale life altering job, and I am waiting for a west coast call. And I am tired as ballsacks. But *seriously*, folks.

Y'all's blogs is boring as *SHIT*.

First of all, everyone's blog contains somewhere a disclaimer about how you don't really care and shouldn't read it. You also say that I shouldn't care about your life. Then why the hell are you keeping a blog? Man, after reading your blog, how the hell do you care about your life?

Did you go to work today? Really. How did that make you feel? Hm. Right, right. No, no, go ahead. Your co-worker? No- what did he do? He didn't! He did?! So, what did you eat when you got home? Hot dogs? Really? Just the hot dogs, without any veggies? Wait, wait, hold on a second, you haven't told me what you bought at the Labor Day Sales. A suede skirt? Is that the one from the HOLY LOVE OF GOD, I AM GOING TO SHOOT MYSELF IN THE HEAD JUST KNOWING YOU SHARE THE SAME PLANET AS ME.

Jesus Christ. Think about it. Give yourself five years, wait - no, give yourself two weeks. If what you are doing right now won't matter to you in two weeks then you have three choices. 1) do something more interesting, and then write about that, 2) keep doing the same boring ass "I heart McDonalds, I shop at the Gap, I hate my job, I want a nicer boyfriend, I eat little kid food and claim it's ironic when actually it just dulls the pain, I talk about my weight, I love Friends" fucking life and don't write about it, or 3) be more goddamn funny.

Look, I know some people read this shit. The only reason you've read this twice is because I don't tell you about my boring ass day, I don't talk about how stuff feels good that's supposed to, and I don't complain about the same shit frickin' Dilbert complains about. And if I ever do these things, I'm funny. I'm goddamn irreverent. It's a gift, really. Everything I do is art. Everything you do is boring.

But you can do whatever you want, if you can be more goddamn funny. My brother Ian's blog is actually never about anything. No-one cares about his pumpkins. Seriously. No-one. His pumpkins don't care about his pumpkins. But I read his blog because he's funny.

I know, a lot of people were born without a quick tongue. It's a *BLOG* for the love of God. Take your time. My brother Kent can write his blog without thinking and it's awesome. You can't. And by you, just assume I mean you. Almost every blog is bad, so if you're reading this and you have a blog, that means you.

Not you, Mac.

Be more goddamn funny. It is no wonder Americans are hated. We actually think people want to read about our *jobs*. You don't even like being there, why are you writing about it? JESUS CHRIST! YOU HATE IT, DON'T MAKE IT THE THING YOU WRITE ABOUT!!!!!!

Again, 1) do something cool and be a bad writer, that's fine. 2) do something inane and don't keep a blog, also fine. 3) do something cool and be a cool writer. (That's where you come in, Mac.) I mean, you can do whatever you want, but I aint gonna troll for blogs anymore, I'm just gonna read what's recomended to me. And if any part of your introduction implies that your blog is boring and shouldn't be read, I'll just trust you on it.