I am a motherfucking Guitar Hero GOD. Expert has been conquered. Lou fell like a sack of potatoes out of the Goodyear blimp. Too bad the alien embryo guitar you unlock for doing it is soooo much lamer than the samurai guitar you get for hard.

Through the Fire and the Flames, anyone?

justonemorejustonemorejustonemoretimeonexpertonemoretimei'llgetyouandshowoffandyouwon'tknowwhathityoubutireallyshouldbedoingsomethingelseitsfreakingmaniciwishicouldgettobewhenineedtogettobedbutthiscabaretisovermyheadlikeapianospeakingofpianoitswhatirealyshouldbedoingrightnownotplayingguitarorguitarherobutijustwanttoplayonemoretimejustonemoretimejustonemoretimei'llshowallofyouwhati'mmadeof

I dunno. Sometimes I'm just such a pussy.

There was a totally hot guy -- and I mean, totally my type, body type, dark hair, big dark doe-eyes, and rocking the facial hair (a nice fullish yet trimmed beard, which I'm generally not into) -- who was waiting at the 135th stop tonight for the transfer train (there's some bizarreness going on with the trains doing relays from X to 135th and then 135th to the Bronx).

We made and held eye contact while I was sitting on the train that eventually was to be going back downtown.

We made and held eye contact while I was waiting on the platform for the next uptown train to arrive. At this point, I realized he was at the very least extremely tired and possibly also drunk.

When the uptown train arrived, he headed to the car behind the one that we both would have entered had we just gone for the nearest car doors. I boarded the doors right in front of me, however. I thought about it for two stops; about what it could possibly mean. Was he just drunk and didn't know we had made eye contact? Was he going into the other car to avoid me? Was he going into the other car to see if I would follow?

At 159th (or whatever the exact stop is) I got up and went into the car behind. Of course, there were a ton of seats right next to him, and I kept walking down to the middle of the car.

He didn't really seem to be clinging onto reality too well, but at another point during the trip, we made and held eye contact again. But he was apparently drunk.

And what do you do at this point? I mean, it's 3.30am. Do you go up to that person and be all, "Hey, what's up?"

I dunno.

But he was hot ... and I had just spent the entire night watching reasonably attractive Olympic athletes.

Dammit.

I'm ready for something. What it is, I don't know. But I'm ready for it. I'm seeing hot guys everywhere and I'm thinking, "Boyfriend material?"

I haven't felt this way in a while.

Hunh. I just read that Morgan Freeman was in a major car accident and is in serious condition. I just happened to pop in Shawshank Redemption about 15 minutes ago to watch while I was eating lunch. Coincidence? Synchronicity? Who knows.

The more I think about it, the more I think that once this cycle of paid LJ is complete, I will not be renewing. Perhaps I'll start another blog somewhere else, perhaps not.

The concept of a "friend," specifically an internet "friend" is somewhat distressing to me.

I find that people on the Internet, including myself, seem to use it as an attempted shortcut to intimacy. Sometimes, it's sex. Sometimes, it's knowledge. Often times, we're just so lonely that we can't even bear to be with ourselves, and we must collect this group of "friends" by which we can vicariously live their lives—especially the producers of juicier prose—in place of our own.

And at least for me, I find myself wanting my particular collection to be leaner, ever leaner.

LiveJournal has served many purposes for me over the course of my participation: as a place to vent, a place to record, a place to meet new people and a place to receive suggestions and advice on anything and everything. It has caused its share of distress with meeting people and realizing that there is very little in common between the pair except voyeuristic participation in each others' lives. And then, there are the cases in which you do meet some very special people and they become a part of your life forever. Even when they have disappeared from your physical presence, they remain a part of your memories.

I have a love-hate relationship with this place. I know that if I left, there would be "friends" that know how to find me and would continue to stay in touch with me. I also know that there are people here that I am truly interested in getting to know a little bit more, but have always remained out of reach for one reason or another. Perhaps that's a sign. Perhaps I should be spending more time with my real friends, making flesh and blood relationships instead of courting ephemeral connections of electrical whimsy. (How unbalanced a writing style when I whip out fifteen 25-cent words in a row.)

I think I'm going to truncate my list by quite a bit. It's difficult to say, but there are many on my list whom I simply do not read, and my own discipline is such that I am ignoring entries that I do want to read by being caught up in an overabundance of ennui.

I want to thank everyone of my list, past, present and future, for participating in some part of my life, either passively through reading, or actively through commenting and sometimes even meeting in person. I have treasured those experiences greatly. Please continue to have me on your subscription list if you wish to continue reading my public entries; as many of you know, there is very little that is private, regardless. And I suppose, for those who need further reason to know wtf, I think, in many cases, it just really has to do with lack of interaction. I'm growing ever weary of doling out unreflected energy and a thinning of the undercoat is needed in my own progression towards a new stage in my virtual and real life.

Again, many thanks and farewell. And if you feel like I'm making a mistake, I'm always willing to chat; but of course, you should know that if you've been reading me.

I'd totally fuck a chick if the baby pictures were worth $14 million.

Christ people, GET A LIFE.

Uhh, so, watching the Caprica preview -- ( Guess at a spoiler. )

Pending my unemployment, I'm kinda happy with where things are, strangely.

Bottom payout in a $5 45-person online tournament. CT record: 2nd place in 6-person boat tournament, 1st place in 10-person night tournament. 2nd place in heads-up tournament later in the evening. Goal for the summer: Play at least one Atlantic City tournament, place in the money would be icing.

Boys boys boys: None, really. I mean, there's Geoff, who has been rather friendly and very communicative since his return from Chicago. But he still has a boyfriend. There's a lot to work out there. Part of me thinks it's just a bad idea, because he's going to school in the fall and of course, I'm unemployed in two days.

Job: It's all I can do to shut my mouth more often than not and just get through the rest of the week. This company is fucked when I leave. My "replacement" was some tired old twitchy queen who freaked out when he realized he was over 50 and punching holes in paper for investment bankers. And I thought I had it bad. I remember when I left JAG, they hired four people to replace me. I made sure to say to several people there that within a month of my leaving, there's going to be two presentations people and one print person on second shift, because I don't think they realize how much I know, how fast I work, and how much shit I actually get done in a night. And to think, I was this problem child who was "partially meets expectations." Yeah, as in, I'm so overfucking qualified for the job, they don't know how to handle me. These people need a book on management or at least on personal interaction.

That's really kind of it.

Guitar Hero continues to move along smoothly. Thank goodness for tax rebates, tax refunds and freelance work to keep me afloat for about two weeks while I look for a job because I'm a fucking slacker/depressed/just want to drink all the time when I get home from work douchebag.

How's that for cold blood in my veins?

I actually had a discussion with a new LJ meetup the other day over lunch about this thing. Let's put it this way, it ain't lookin' good. I'm not sure why I've come to the place where I'm not posting much anymore. Perhaps it's therapy. Perhaps it's lack of access. Perhaps it's more sensitivity towards others' feelings and private events and the ethics of "just" being a near tell-all tabloid of my own life, but consequently inadvertently posting about other people's private lives with acquiesced approval (which has generally been proven a false presumption).

I'm sure it's a lot of those things combined.

I don't enjoy posting about just me. I enjoy posting about other people, about my interactions with them. Basically, my life when it involves just me is a lot of jerking off, playing video games and endlessly surfing the 'net. Very rarely do I sit down and just think about myself. And when I do, it's usually in the context of my relation to other humans; therefore, we're stuck analyzing the ethics of just posting about things that have not been granted permission to publicly air.

Sometimes, I just want to go tell people to grow their own goddamn pair and fuck off. Actually, a lot of the time I do, but unfortunately, that's not the way to build relationships. And besides, there's always more of a story than what it appears to be from my own limited viewpoint. It just irritates me that people assume that everything is such a personal affront and that very few people take the time to actually sit down and work out their conflicts with other people and instead go on the offensive and attack maliciously or go on the defensive and antagonize through passive-aggressive emotional grenade lobbing.

It takes work to understand. It takes work to not be aggressive and to not be passive-aggressive. It takes work to straddle the line and to seek out explanations and understanding, to make a true connection and foster a relationship, no matter how small, long-forgotten or tenuous. I know that I like someone when I'm willing to do the work, when I can feel myself naturally doing that work, or when I can see that there's a lot of work ahead of me and don't mind the challenge. But lately, I've been learning that I work too hard for other people; I give out energy that's not used wisely or even appreciated, my soon-to-be-former job being just one case of many.

I often get frustrated at the fact that people just don't seem to want to make the effort. I don't need to be everyone's best friend. I don't need to be friends with all that I come into contact with. Hell, most people I just flat-out don't want to talk to. But I treat everyone with a common foundation of courtesy when I am around them, when I am in their presence. No matter how infantile I might think your thought processes, no matter what multiple I think my IQ higher than yours, I strive to maintain a baseline of exploration, empathy, understanding and comprehension into your life. As humans, we deserve those basic rights.

I once made up my own cliché, if you will, but I don't think I'm remembering it correctly. I'll have to go back and check, but it went something like this: "Everyone has something to say, and even though it might not be intelligent, it's always insightful."

I feel that to the observant, the world is your oyster. There are so many things you can learn from those around you, from all situations, from all settings. To the trained eye, all lesser falsehoods and trickery fall away. Would you rather be a deft yet cowardly trickster that preys on the weak and ignorant, running the risk of getting caught by a more knowledgeable and watchful eye, or would you rather be a stalwart, flexible, observant guardian of wisdom and bravely turn the light of truth on deceit and ignorance?

I choose the latter.

Guitar Hero 3 Friend Code: 425346867746

Add it and we'll rock out together. I get to play bass. Unless you suck, then I'll take lead guitar.

FUCK YEAH
FUCK YEAH
FUCK YEAH

WINNER WINNER WINNER

$22.50 in the $5 buy-in game.

I conquered the world. I totally have a way to improve my end game. It's called: Memorization.

Today, I pretty much informally quit/resigned from the most stable (and most miserable) job I have ever had in my life. They're going to "see if they can find someplace to transfer me" (my suggestion was the two art directors that they've been looking for since the end of May), but I'm not exactly holding my breath. It's pretty apparent that they think I'm nothing but trouble.

So, my last day is July 25th. I'm not overly worried, since I do have the transcripts job, but it is certainly time to start looking in earnest now.

Wish me luck.

PS: If you're living in the New York area and you know of someone looking for a layout artist/graphic designer, or someone that's willing to possibly consider me for an art director position (which would be a step up the career ladder for me, but one that I'm certainly capable of making) let me know. Kthxbye.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times ... in that order.

( A Tale of Two Hands )

So, I'm thinking of having a weekly get together at my place. It's amazing what unexpected hosting plans with several people can do for your desire to clean up the strewn-out collection of shed pubes on your bathroom floor.

So, every Sunday afternoon, I think I'm going to have a game day at my place. Alternate weeks between board games and poker. Should be lots of fun. It starts tomorrow on ... Friday.

But, wow, my living room table is cleaned and buffed, my dishes are clean (mostly) and the bathroom got there scrub down it's been wanting since January a long time.

But yay! Board games!

PS> New Yawkers: Let me know if you're interested, I'm do an opt-in e-mail every week to get an idea of who's going to come.

Five people, four pay out.

Blinds are $200/$400. ( If you have no clue what I'm talking about, it doesn't get any better. )

Let the whinging commence.

Previous schedule: 11am to 8pm
Leave/Arrive home: 9.45am / 8:45pm
Total work time: 11 hours.

Current schedule: 4pm to 1am
Leave/Arrive home: 2.45pm / 1:25am
Total work time: 10.7 hours.

At least the work day is shorter.

On the job hunt: Nothing today.

I'd go to the grocery store and buy a pack of them, so I could make five other people do stupid things to get one for themselves.

I'm really way the fuck too paranoid to even begin to contemplate whether or not I'm on any of these "lists." (Even though I know I'm on one because the entirety of his flist had a statement.) You people get catty-cunty passive-aggressive when you don't have to tell people who you're talking about!

Cut your friends list already!

I stayed home from work today because I made myself sick after my annual review. As of next week, apparently, I'm going back on second shift. I'm not happy and will proceed to run, not walk, to the nearest job offer. (Anyone need a graphic designer/layout artist?)

The more I read about how people are trying to guess the final Cylon, the more I'm convinced that it's Roslin. You can stop here if you're not totally up-to-date on the BSG series. The only other strong candidate to appear would be Dualla, where there's apparently quite the air-tight case for her with all of this in-story significance and scenes where this is said and that is said and there's no seven model and the seventh zodiac sign is Sagittarius and Dualla's from Sagittaron, so-and-so producer said X on their blog, blah blah blah.

But that's just it. That's not where the secret lies, in the details and specifics of supposed "clues" and "hints" dropped along the way. The secret lies in the developing mythology of the series, of the very, very apparent Christian religion that has been defined and explored from the beginning. Roslin as Cylon (inadvertent destruction of her race via the Hub attack) is the perfect foil for Baltar's human (inadvertent destruction of his race via giving the codes to Caprica). She's the perfect convert to the one true God, the final holdout from a race that has come to believe. Talk about a lesson needing to be learned, forgiveness needing to be felt so deeply.

"...the fifth is still is in shadow, drawn toward the light, hungering for redemption, that will only come in the howl of terrible suffering." This was apparently said in Razor. If it is revealed that she, as the final uber-Cylon (as some would have us believe) plotted the attacks on the human race, then she would not only have the deaths of all of the humans on her head, but also the deaths of all of her siblings. That's quite a bit to redeem, and is cancer not something that one would howl and suffer from?

I also think that she will not die during the series anymore. She already had her death scene; it would take some pretty kick-ass writing for us to cry again over her death.

Also, it has to be a major character. The reveal of four of the final five was such a let down -- everyone that I knew groaned a little at that season's ending. So, you really have to make up for it. And how in the hell does making it Gaeta or Dualla make up for it? I was pissed when she and Apollo got together. (Barf.) Gaeta just hasn't had a big enough role in all of this for it to be some "grand reveal" that we've been waiting years for, and will now wait ANOTHER YEAR FOR. (Barf.)

All of this "plotting" and "manipulation" that is supposed to be going on by this final Cylon is a red herring that has been merrily spawned by looking back at the old series and some kind of "Grand-Mufti Cylon" that has been controlling the other 11 models from the get-go. I find that hard to believe. This is not a story about robot and human, this is a story about rebirth and forgiveness and coming together; this is a story about salvation.

Talk to me next year ... And I bet I'll say, "I told you so." (And so will Three, by the way.) How great! I watched that scene again and man, what a great play on a play that would be. Talk about a twist! Not to mention this little bit of dialogue:

D'Anna: "Four. There are four Cylons in your fleet."
Roslin: "Then who's the fifth?" (As we're treated to a shot of the only major characters on the Cylon basestar at that point, Adama, Roslin and Helo.)
D'Anna conveniently changes the subject in a very quick moment. ("Maybe she really doesn't know!" I can imagine D'Anna thinking.)

The cast apparently knows already. And they don't believe it. (And it still hasn't been revealed by the 15th episode.) I can understand why: I think it's going to be a shocker for people when it's Roslin. But I think it's going to be an even bigger shocker when they find out why. None of the posts that I've read about the final Cylon have taken any of the mythology into account, they've only taken the "hard facts" into account. And that's why I think people will be disappointed, or surprised. They haven't looked at what the producers are trying to write, trying to build. They're not trying to write a mystery novel, dropping clues along the way. They're just trying to write a story, and Roslin fits so neatly into that role, it's almost too easy. So, by examining the mythology that has been ever-present since the beginning, it all really comes into focus for me. And Dualla and Gaeta just aren't in that picture anymore. Neither are any of the Adamas (Please, people, Zak? Who the fuck is he? You're REALLY stretching that one), Starbuck, Baltar ... Really anyone at this point. It just doesn't make sense.

Any guesses I've had before this have been based on pure speculation, but now that the mythology is really coming together ... this will be my final answer until there is hard evidence IN THE SHOW that disproves it. I don't care what Ronald what's-his-fart says. He can say all he wants, he's under no oath. And besides, it seems to be well-documented that there's always been abit of a dual nature about what he ends up saying anyway.

Although, I do think there's a good shot that Saul's wife was a Six, which would make her a Cylon, just not one of the final five.

Silly humans. Trix are for Cylons.

I had a pretty good weekend. Friday was poker with a big group of gays, followed by even more alochol, which effectively put me at a "6" on a scale from one to ten (yes, I was asked).

Saturday, I slept and played Guitar Hero and then went over to Jamison's to play more video games. I basically just played video games all day. And participated in more alcohol consumption. Mmm, pizza.

Today, I slept even more after getting home, got up, got my ass to the grocery store for this week's set of lunches, cleaned up the kitchen, cleaned up the living room (coffee table is still a mess) and just did some general over-all cleaning house.

Speaking of cleaning house, I'm considering leaving LJ for a real blog. I dunno, I think this place has served its purpose and all, and I've met some great friends, but the truth of the matter is that I just don't really read my friends page anymore. And I'm beginning to think that LJ is a poor substitute for friends and therapy and so many other things...

On that note, I'm lonely, I realized tonight. I haven't made love in a very, very long time. I used to do that with random tricks, gift them with all of this emotion and sensitivity, but lately, I've just found people who are willing to do what I want and there is none of that connection. I miss it. It's also just an emotional something that friends can't give.

And, frankly, though I'm good at getting laid and I'm good at making friends, I'm completely baffled as to how one even begins to search for a relationship. While I think they don't grow on trees and you certainly can't just go out and buy one at the store, there has to be a way to make yourself more open to the idea. More open to the possibility, stepping into the stream somehow.

I feel a little disconnected at the moment.

Anyway. Time to do some transcripts. Tomorrow is my annual review. Ought to be interesting.