i meant to update today with something about how i saw the devil's rejects yesterday, and the situation at work, but death seems to make all of that seem a bit... inadequate. i'm sure that numbness will pass. but for now, i feel nothing i can say is appropriate, whether in my personal life or here.
last week on the 5th, it was my father's 50th birthday. he is over 500 miles away, so i obviously didn't see him.
i also didn't call him.
i started the day with the intention to do so; the oppurtunity just didn't seem to want to present itself. i arrived on campus at 815 in the morning, and was there until after 9pm. this was actually a day spent working and in class as well, so it isn't like i was just sitting around or something.
as i walked to the bus stop after my class let out that night, i briefly felt guilty for not calling him. it was his 50th birthday, and i am his both his eldest child and his only son. it's almost my legal obligation to call him on his birthday. that guilt quickly turned to anger though.
it was anger directed at the people who i knew would tsk tsk when they learned i had not called him, and anger at myself for even briefly feeling guilty about not calling him. this is the man who treated me like an unwanted guest for 6 years; who all but refused to support me while i was in high school; this was the man who kicked me out of the house because i was "unhappy there". he has been worse than an absentee father, as i was reminded everyday that he was in my life, and could not be bothered to care about me. he has not given me a birthday present, or even really wished me happy birthday, actually, in over 5 years. and to this man, i felt some fleeting obligation to wish a happy birthday.
recently, i was in san diego, both to take a break from northern california, and to see my sisters. i was informed upon my arrival that my father's feelings were hurt that i had not stopped by to say hello on my previous visit. i was all but dragged along by the oldest of my sisters to see him later that week, and for the first time in over 6 years, he hugged me, and told me he loved me. and instead of warmth, i felt cold. because he was afraid.
i believe he has finally begun to realize how much he alienated me over the last decade. and it makes an angry, bitter part of me glad. that part of me was born on my 21st birthday, when i spent the day literally alone in an empty house, a knife in my hand. no one called me that day. no one stopped by. and for an entire day, i contemplated suicide. what survived that day was a colder. and that colder me thinks my father deserves to know a little piece of that isolation. we may eventually reconcile, but for now, i want him to slowly realize exactly what his actions have resulted in. and for this, i'm probably going to hell. i'll see him there.
i also didn't call him.
i started the day with the intention to do so; the oppurtunity just didn't seem to want to present itself. i arrived on campus at 815 in the morning, and was there until after 9pm. this was actually a day spent working and in class as well, so it isn't like i was just sitting around or something.
as i walked to the bus stop after my class let out that night, i briefly felt guilty for not calling him. it was his 50th birthday, and i am his both his eldest child and his only son. it's almost my legal obligation to call him on his birthday. that guilt quickly turned to anger though.
it was anger directed at the people who i knew would tsk tsk when they learned i had not called him, and anger at myself for even briefly feeling guilty about not calling him. this is the man who treated me like an unwanted guest for 6 years; who all but refused to support me while i was in high school; this was the man who kicked me out of the house because i was "unhappy there". he has been worse than an absentee father, as i was reminded everyday that he was in my life, and could not be bothered to care about me. he has not given me a birthday present, or even really wished me happy birthday, actually, in over 5 years. and to this man, i felt some fleeting obligation to wish a happy birthday.
recently, i was in san diego, both to take a break from northern california, and to see my sisters. i was informed upon my arrival that my father's feelings were hurt that i had not stopped by to say hello on my previous visit. i was all but dragged along by the oldest of my sisters to see him later that week, and for the first time in over 6 years, he hugged me, and told me he loved me. and instead of warmth, i felt cold. because he was afraid.
i believe he has finally begun to realize how much he alienated me over the last decade. and it makes an angry, bitter part of me glad. that part of me was born on my 21st birthday, when i spent the day literally alone in an empty house, a knife in my hand. no one called me that day. no one stopped by. and for an entire day, i contemplated suicide. what survived that day was a colder. and that colder me thinks my father deserves to know a little piece of that isolation. we may eventually reconcile, but for now, i want him to slowly realize exactly what his actions have resulted in. and for this, i'm probably going to hell. i'll see him there.
the new nin is really, really fucking good. i was guardedly optimistic for the album (the first single is catchy as shit, but i wasn't thrilled with the song "with teeth" when they performed it live), but this has surpassed my expectations. as i listened it just kind of washed over me. i don't know if it's their best album or not, and i don't generally like making that kind of distinction, as i think albums are things that should be taken contextually and considered on their own merits, but i do know this: this is my favorite record of the year so far, and that's saying something amidst new garbage, autolux, and queens of the stone age, not to mention everything else that's come out so far.
being an art major is expensive.
this morning on campus, i was saddened to find that my wacom tablet (the little pen and panel thing that lets you "draw" on your computer) had finally breathed its last. the tablet has been acting up for months, but i've managed to deal. this morning however, on campus, as i was about to work on a project (last minute of course. i did say i was an art major), i pulled my stylus (which was previously being held together with electrical tape) out of my laptop bag only to find that the button on it had fallen off. or out. whatever. this effectively decreases my speed by about 70 percent using it. no right clicking, is what it amounts to, and the second button on it was broken already, so there you go.
after resigning myself to turning in this project late, i go to class, finish my assignment, and trudge to the bookstore to purchase a tablet on my account (thank god for what's essentially a credit card, or i would be essentially fucked). i make my way to the computer store, and peruse the tablets they have in stock.
there were two, instead of the usual 3, which meant i wouldn't be getting off light in the price department. the cheapest ones were sold out. so there were 2, which were the same size, but one was the vastly superior model, with twice the pressure sensitivity, and more buttons and I'M A FUCKING GEEK. so i basically just agreed to pay a months rent for a computer interface device. i'll be handing kage the weapon with which she will surely strike me down later this week.
this morning on campus, i was saddened to find that my wacom tablet (the little pen and panel thing that lets you "draw" on your computer) had finally breathed its last. the tablet has been acting up for months, but i've managed to deal. this morning however, on campus, as i was about to work on a project (last minute of course. i did say i was an art major), i pulled my stylus (which was previously being held together with electrical tape) out of my laptop bag only to find that the button on it had fallen off. or out. whatever. this effectively decreases my speed by about 70 percent using it. no right clicking, is what it amounts to, and the second button on it was broken already, so there you go.
after resigning myself to turning in this project late, i go to class, finish my assignment, and trudge to the bookstore to purchase a tablet on my account (thank god for what's essentially a credit card, or i would be essentially fucked). i make my way to the computer store, and peruse the tablets they have in stock.
there were two, instead of the usual 3, which meant i wouldn't be getting off light in the price department. the cheapest ones were sold out. so there were 2, which were the same size, but one was the vastly superior model, with twice the pressure sensitivity, and more buttons and I'M A FUCKING GEEK. so i basically just agreed to pay a months rent for a computer interface device. i'll be handing kage the weapon with which she will surely strike me down later this week.
i'm laying on a couch in san diego as i type this, with a cat nesting on my feet.
the world has gone completely insane lately, i think. first, all of this terry schiavo stuff finally comes to a head, as anyone who's been watching for the past year and half or so knew it would, and now, there's been another school shooting. there are several things that confuse me about this one.
- it happened in minnestoa. fucking minnesota.
- it was a chubby 16 year old native american boy, who first killed both his grandparents, with his grandfathers police issue sidearm. he then drove his grandfather's police car to his school, wearing a bulletproof vest.
- apparently, in addition to being very much not white, this kid was a fucking neo-nazi. let me reiterate. a native american neo-nazi.
this whole worlds fucking insane, i swear.
the world has gone completely insane lately, i think. first, all of this terry schiavo stuff finally comes to a head, as anyone who's been watching for the past year and half or so knew it would, and now, there's been another school shooting. there are several things that confuse me about this one.
- it happened in minnestoa. fucking minnesota.
- it was a chubby 16 year old native american boy, who first killed both his grandparents, with his grandfathers police issue sidearm. he then drove his grandfather's police car to his school, wearing a bulletproof vest.
- apparently, in addition to being very much not white, this kid was a fucking neo-nazi. let me reiterate. a native american neo-nazi.
this whole worlds fucking insane, i swear.
there's a trend in movie reviews for the past few years, largely spurred, in my opinion, by the explosion of internet movie "critics" and minutae hoarders that find tidbits of rumors online and consider themselves "insiders". I won't go into more of a rant here, as I think Kevin Smith said it better than I could in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. Anyway, this trend has resulted in phenomenally lazy movie reviews that rely on industry art speak that the reviewers don't even really understand and tired cliches that try to capitalize on perceived audience prejudices. The movie being reviewed in question is Constantine in this case. My issue is that every review I've read that's negative of it inevitably call's his portrayal a rehash of the matrix films. For god's sake, we know you've already written Mr. Reeves off as an actor, whether fairly or unfairly, but if you're going to rip apart his movie by virtue of his presence in it, don't be lazy about it. analyze his acting beyond merely saying "it's a step away from neo." it's lazy, and it robs you of credibility.
I haven't seen this movie yet, but I plan to this evening. I'll add to this post afterwards with how i felt about it, and I'll try to be a little more eloquent about it.
I haven't seen this movie yet, but I plan to this evening. I'll add to this post afterwards with how i felt about it, and I'll try to be a little more eloquent about it.
