n o w p l a y i n g - s c r i p t b i n - f a n c l u b - s t u d i o

make love to the camera



December 8, 2001 - Noon!

Bored Before It Even Began

Dear God - How about some snow? I keep forgetting it's Christmastime. Thanks, Bill.

So, if I had actually gone through with the murder-suicide I was contemplating last night, I think history would have been forgiving.

Maybe I wouldn't have killed myself in the end. Maybe I would have sat in the bar amidst the carnage, calmly finishing off my pint and smoking a cigarette. The police would have come eventually, and, maybe, after they surveyed the scene, a kindly old Paddy would have approached me, put his hand on my shoulder and said "It's alright, boyo. You did t'e right t'ing."

Here is the representative quote of the night:

"Um, like, in March, I stayed in the Embassy Suites in Manhattan, so, like, when all that stuff happened, I totally understood, you know? Um...whatever."

That kind of stuff is hard to make up.

The 'um...whatever' portion occured because I confronted that phrase with about five seconds of silence, a slack jaw, and a confused look on my face. What could I have possibly said?

That phrase was spoken by the girl I have previously referred to here as the 'blond Angelina Jolie.' Which is really just a shame. I believe the equation is "Hot + Dumb + Consumer = Not Hot (At All)"

Last night was a little thing at my school called 'Premiere Night.' It's basically a night where students invite their families to come down and see all the different tv shows the school produces. In addition to the soap opera/drama thing for which I write, there are a couple of news shows and a sketch comedy show. We once had a music show in which we invited local bands to come play, which was cool, but has since been discontinued for reasons unknown.

Anyway. I brought my mom down, and let her watch my work and meet some friends and faculty. It's odd at 26 years old to hear people say to your mom "Your son's a good boy." That's the kind of thing that makes a parent all glowy, though, so it was worth it. I wish my dad was alive and able to come, because I know he would have made bad jokes to my teachers, been fascinated by the tv equipment, and flirted with the girls I knew, and I think at this point in my life I would be more amused than mortified by that.

Oh, and before Premiere Night started, I introduced my mom to sushi. She tried a piece, made a face, and then tried to claim that she liked it while refusing to eat any more. It was only a California roll. I gave up hope.

So, after the shows, most of us student types dispensed with our parents and headed out to the mutually agreed upon destination, Bar Louie. I don't know if these are national or not, but they're a chain of corporate bars here in Chicago that are terrifyingly bland. Think about the Forrest Gump soundtrack combined with your local light rock station, add liquor, and there you have it.

The beautiful part of the evening began when Blond Angelina and another one of my fellow students, Kay, introduced us to their respective boyfriends. They were nearly identical. They were both about 6'4''. One of them was either named or called 'Butch.' The other was wearing khakis and a polo shirt. The boyfriends had never met before, but they immediately started talking like old friends. They had some fascinating things to say about the baroque movement in music and the poetry of Byron.

Oh, wait. They talked about football. Sorry.

It was especially cool that Angelina and Kay both wore knee-high boots, skirts, and black turtlenecks. At one point during the night, I asked them if they thought they would make a mistake and accidentally bring home the wrong boyfriends. Kay replied "I think we'll be able to remember who our boyfriends are, Bill."

I was bored before it even began, because my only 'prospect,' this cute little brunette named Stef who plays the lead girl in the soap opera, had brought her parents with her to the bar and then left early. I believe she's up for disqualification, though, because a song came on that I strongly disapproved of and she got all excited. Far be it from me to judge people on the basis of their musical tastes, but if I could remember exactly which song it was, you would understand that it was not one to which rocking out should be permitted. Also, she told a story about her falling down upon meeting some real soap actor named 'AJ.' Beh.

This must be why I occasionally hear rumors that people think I can be an asshole. I prefer to think of myself as 'picky.' Truly cool girls, I'm learning, are rare.

Being single is too expensive. I've spent far too much money on food and drink lately. My social options this evening involve spending more money. I could go to some damn bar with my friend Nick, or I could go "dancing" at a gay bar with Sally (with whom I'm remaining good friends) and our friend Jon. Sally claims that she will get some 'hot girl action' tonight, which, while interesting, doesn't do me any good at this point.

I think I might stay home and do some editing for this video project I'm working on for school. God bless iMacs. My pocketbook and the developing bags under my eyes will thank me.

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