Not to give away too many spoilers, wicked is about the witch of the
west and her past before Dorothy. It involes peeling back some of the
layers behind oz, and talks about her family life and relationships,
most notably with the good witch Glenda.

What follows is a tale that, although filled with multiple twists,
though I guess obvious to any read person of fiction, is so
breathtakingly simple and raw. Simple concepts, drilled down, with one
right and one wrong, twisting the audiences emotionally like a skilled
puppeteer, but with very little of the resentment and bitterness one
feels about being obviously manipulated.  A bit like a top shelf gin,
fragrant and complex, but with enough burn that you know it’s fucking
Alcohol.  It’s such a contrast to the tedium of everyday life. The
characters experience love, loathing, joy, conflict in such…
undiluted, crystal clear ways, like a Martini made by a bartender that
actually knows WTF he’s doing.  Don’t get me wrong, wicked certainly
has the twists and turns of any good story, but at it’s heart, its the
pure motivations behind its characters that are powerful.  The twists
are there only to make it interesting, like this stripe of orange peel
in this imaginary glass of mine (contrary to what my audience might
think, I’m actually riding the Muni home rather than at a bar.)

So why so emo? Many fold. One is the contrast to my own life. Missing
is the magic of youth, the clarity of love, the pursuit of pure joy.
Gone are the rose lenses that inexperience breeds. The world is a
place of concrete buildings and muddy colors. Part of me, a large part
in fact (there’s a bit too much of me to go around, but I did a mile
and a half today, honest!) misses that, and longs for the mystical
worlds of the faerie tale, the fantasy novel. Where hardship and
injustice are tempered with the hope of redemption and true love,
where the gods themselves will prostrate themselves against the
principles of fairness and pain is often chased with bliss. Where the
problems are clear (well to the reader at least) with simple solutions.

I miss that. Each day for me is to do the same task I did yesterday,
intersperced with other bits and pieces of routine.

To peel back the another layer of the onions, I’ve always been
facinated with the magic and power of theatre, and of the spectacle in
general. I always wanted to be a part of that, thinking that I could,
on some level, wielding the magics that my favorite heroes do in their
stories, swaying the hearts and minds of the consumers.  Having
studied theatre and stagecraft for a couple of years, I know that it’s
all smoke and mirrors.  Certain colors of light to evoke feelings,
musical cues, different keys, shapes, lines, and brightness to move
the focus and mood of the viewer like one moves and focuses a movie
lens <Spoiler alert!!> It doesn’t help that the obvious link is that
the wizard is the conman of wicked, duping the citizens of oz to
further his seemingly evil agenda.</spoiler>

Then, doing what philosophy majors do best, is the meta. By watching
the theatre, I’m reminded that I’m on the other side of the proceniun,
that security guards will tackle me if I go backstage. I’m the viewer
here, the mark, the John.  Sure I had the chance to be a part of the
harsh life of the Magicmakers, but I chose the safer life instead. I
missed the scrounging every dollar and working for nothing just to get
experience. The thrill and freedom of the road.

Then I think about the magic makers; the guys behind the curtain. For
them, this show IS their monotony. The job they come into. Their tie
to the real world. I get to come into Their illusion to escape, to
seek that orgasmic catharsis. What do they seek?

See why I’m depressed?

Written on my iPhone

I ask to be, or not to be.
That is the question, I ask of me.
This sullied life, it makes me shudder.
My uncle’s boffing dear, sweet mother.
Would I, could I take my life?
Could I, should I, end this strife?
Should I jump out of a plane?
Or throw myself before a train?
Should I from a cliff just leap?
Could I put myself to sleep?
Shoot myself, or take some poison?
Maybe try self immoloition?
To shuffle off this mortal coil,
I could stab myself with a fencing foil.
Slash my wrists while in the bath?
Would it end my angst and wrath?
To sleep, to dream, now there’s the rub.
I could drop a toaster in my tub.
Would all be glad, if I were dead?
Could I perhaps kill them instead?
This line of thought takes consideration –
For I’m the king of procrastination.

Found on the web…. on a random ness.

Well… For one, it was my first cousin, one of members of my family that I respect the most and probably was closest to, not to say that we were close.  In fact, we weren’t close.  We barely spoke to another.  But I remember that I looked up to her, even though I was a kid.  That and she was taller than me until I hit puberty that is.  But no… I’m glad that she could smile and have her day, though she did admit she was tired of smiling by the end of the day. 

But really… the one thing that has changed about myself and this wedding was the fact that I’ve been in a relationship, and have gone through the ups and downs, the tears and the laughter.  At least a part of it.  Now, that may not have worked out in the end, as we are now apart, but a part of me has known love, and it makes me a little happier that someone else in this world, especially someone I look up to, and respect, and care about, has gotten to the end of one chapter, and has begun another.  That and I got to see family that I don’t really see all that much; to see how much my younger cousins have grown, and have changed. 

Perhaps I’m getting old and sentimental.  I think I’ve always been a bit sappy.  Granted, I was just a little sad; sad that my previous relationship didn’t work out, and sad that I currently hold anyone in my life to a high enough esteem to be able to dedicate my life to them, and them to me, but there’s always hope.  Kudos to you L, hopefully you won’t be able to walk for a week after spending it with J.

I’m glad that my cousin doesn’t read this blog, else I’d probably have a pretty darn short life expectancy.

-T

Source: Comic stolen without permission, but if I was more of a man I’d ask if I could use it, but here’s a shameless plug anyway, from: xKcd

Without giving out too much of my personal life, here are some highlights.

• It sucks to have a girl stand you up on V-Day. It sucks more to have a friend, whom you’ve arranged to hang out with on V-day to keep you from going insane, stand you up on V-day, girl or not.
  • Yes. I ain’t going to let you live that one down, not for a while… that is… until I forget it. Which will probably be a day or 3.
• People that aren’t your beloved tend to be crappy drivers on V-day… because they are paying more attention to their date than the road.
• Apparently no one likes Indian food on V-Day.
• The Marble Slab >>>Coldstone. It’s the original baby. Can’t shake the original. Plus they have 2 for 1 night on V-Day (and on every wed.)
• Having someone that can keep your mind off the fact that you’re single, and is as silly as you are really helps.
• Apparently I need to learn to sing and play guitar at the same time.
• J, you were right. Guitars do get girls.
• Apparently I get better sleep when I stay out till like midnight, then drive home, than if I go to sleep at 11. Go figure.
• I have mastered the college pickup line: “Hey, what’s your major!”
• If I counted the number of women I hang out with, and then assumed that I was sleeping with all of them, then I’d be a player. But the only thing I’m playing with right now is video games.
• Resist the urge to make a Wii joke.

Props:

• Thanks to the friends that decided to hang with me last night for making what could have been a crappy night into something fun.
  • I really do ‘preciate it. Though I appreciate anyone who can put up with me. God knows it’s a daily struggle.

Slops:

• Drivers suck on Valentine’s day.
• Restaurants that go crazy on this, “It’s V-day so lets tell our regular customers to bend over.”
• Almost getting stood up on V-Day.
  • See… told you I wasn’t going to let you live it down… not for a 3 day cool down at least… then I’ll be like… oh SHiNy!
• Rediscovering Counterstrike.
• Being all congested and stuff.
  • One reason I didn’t go to the singles awareness night.
    • Hi,I’m *sneeze* *blow nose*… Wanna dance?

Now back to your normal link spew.