RENT.

(This is for Tony.)

I just watched the film version of RENT. Um... If you saw the play and really liked it go ahead and watch the movie. If the concept or even the mention of the title makes you a little uncomfortable, for whatever reason, maybe you should just skip this one. I saw the play back in '99 and was simply blown away. At 17 years old the themes were so bold and inspiring, and the sheer emotion that came poring off the stage was magic to watch. I mean, the performances were unbelievable and to hear Larson's songs live and with such undeniable conviction was truly amazing. It remains, for me, a fantastic piece of theatre.

That was the play. The movie, as much as it breaks my heart, is not quite as fantastic. The cast of this film is, without a doubt, its saving grace-- thank god most of the originals returned and brought their heart and talent with them. The performances (the cafe and the support group scenes in particular) still gave me chills. Unfortunately, just about everything else falls a tad short. You see, the reason a play celebrating Bohemia works so well is because live theatre embraces that ideal. It still retains and even reaffirms the raw vitality. The movie seems to unknowingly strip that away and the story looses some of, if not all of, its soul. Not to mention Chris Columbus's oddly muted sense of creativity and a simple lack of directorial imagination in general.

In the end, the reason I enjoyed this film as much as I did, was because it did a remarkable job of reminding me how much I loved the play.

The Rollercoaster.

Its interesting that technically it is the same day as my last, much happier post and yet, I am feeling as down as ever now. Interesting is a nice way of saying it. What's that lyric?

"If life's not beautiful without the pain,
well I'd just rather never ever even see beauty again.
Well as life gets longer, awful feels softer.
And it feels pretty soft to me."

God fucking bless inexplicable disconsolation.

Things that made today a good day:

- I thought I was going to be late to work like I usually am, but I was right on time. Not that it really matters.

- I got an unexpectedly large tip from a quiet couple at table four.

- I got to see myself on TV again. Which is fun.

- I had blackened snapper and onion rings for lunch, and it turned out to be exactly what I was in the mood for.

- I booked a spot for a commercial auditioning workshop that I can finally afford to take.

- I heard from many of my wonderful friends today via the information superhighway.

- I had a great conversation with my new headshot photographer and will be doing those next week.

- I went to the gym and didn't feel like I was going to die this time.

- I watched a good movie with several of my favorite actors in it (Happy Endings).

So yeah. Good days are fun. I vote yes.

I pay $30 per month for this shit.

So. I have been going to the gym lately. Some weeks more than others. Whatever. The point is I went this evening and it was going real good. Rockin out to music on my ipod, doing my thing. Then, toward what would be the last half of my regular workout, I feel tired. Not sore-tired like I always feel when I work out, but sleepy tired. "Hrm. That's odd. My heart rate is up, the last thing I should be feeling is sleepy," I thinks to myself. So, I bust through a little more before things start to get blurry. At this point I cut my losses and head to the locker room to grab my bag before I barf on one of the retarded "trainers." I sit down and I can't move. Literally just frozen, and then I'm drenched in sweat, pouring from my head. "What the... wait. I know this feeling," I think. "This is heat exhaustion." Yeah. Eventually my body calms down and I walk outside and the cold air levels me out.

But why did this happen, Nick? You drink a lot of water and you don't work out in a parka or anything. Well, I'll tell you...

...Its because LA Fitness (who never cease to piss me off somehow) have their fucking heater on ridiculously high because all the dumb 19 year old So-Cal bitches that work there can't deal with the milder weather that The Valley is experiencing this week! God-fucking-damnit! Ugh. I'm getting tired again. Fuckers.

[lyrics]

My brain's the weak heart,

and my heart's the long stairs.

What a Dick.

In an attempt to be more constructive with my free time I am considering various activities that will be both challenging and enjoyable. SO, on that note, would anyone like to go quail hunting? ... No? Come on. Its not like anyone's gonna get shot in the face.

Heh heh, I'm not ever going to think this isn't funny.

Worthlessness.

I'm trying not to break down. Its getting harder. Tell me something good is on the way. I can't take much more of my life.

Today hurts me.

Cupid grabs the pistol.

Im sorta drunk. I have been all night. And I waited tables instead of taking a girl out fora nice dinner, some wine, maybe a litttle bit of a night time beach visit, candles, music, a massage. No, none of that. You know why?

... yeah, me neither.

Happy valentines day. I hope someone kissed you and meant it.

Watch this film.

"Enron: The Smartest Guys In The Room."

Fascinating, informative, and scarier than hell. A scandalously gripping documentary hinging on intelligent research rather than tasteless propaganda. You will be better for seeing this one.

What is this "super-bowl" you speak of?

What a fantastic Sunday.

The temperature has picked up again in the Valley, which means the winds will pick up too and then all the mountains will go up in flames. Again. But for now, its nice enough for me to go have a bagel and coffee and sit outside with the newspaper. I want to go to the beach, but I wont enjoy it until its warmer there too, which is still another month or two away.

I’m also enjoying today for the simple fact that I’m not hung-over. This week hasn’t really followed the sober and productive path that I intended it to, though taxes are done and I managed to make it to work as scheduled, so I’m not beating myself up about it. I’ll let whatever substances that are still in my system to that for me. I do, however, miss the gym. I got a game of tennis in earlier in the week, but two hours of trying to hit a ball with a racket doesn’t really push me to the physical extreme. Plus, my apartment looks like I was robbed. By monkeys. Who can’t do dishes. So I gotta do that soon.

The big game starts in a few, and I don’t really care. I will probably go over to Craig’s, eat their food, drink my supply of High Life that I keep in their fridge, and watch commercials that cost more money than I can ever hope to have at one time. Hasta.

David Cross as "That One Friend"

"You know, that’s what I’m saying. ... I make things happen. I go for it. ... You know? ... I’ll ask a hundred chicks. You know, maybe I get ninety-nine no’s. That’s fine… slide it on, slide it on. Whatever.... But maybe that hundredth chick… likes to fuck on a pile of trash.

See what I’m saying? That’s what I’m saying."