08.22.2002 || 22h45

Quick update

So, work continues on the screenplay. Things had slowed down while I was busy acting in a no-budget B-movie. All of my scenes with actual *dialogue* in them are done, so I can knock off memorising one of the three things upon which I was *supposed* to be slaving away, but wasn't due to the fact that my girlfriend was, um, demanding of my time (that's not a complaint, BTW). Anyway, I'm now in the position of being in a play for which I have not memorised my lines even though we're going on this Saturday, and of not being off-script on my stuff for class even though we've been threatened with evisceration if we're not completely off-script by Monday.

Oh well, heh.

During a, um, spat last night, the girlfriend said something to me that, though perhaps said in the heat of the moment (she never clarified, so I don't really know), made me the saddest man in Montr�al and changed things a little. How, I'm not yet sure. Endings and disasters? Good grief, no. Stop being an alarmist. But things will be ever so slightly different from now on. It was something that I never, *ever* would have said to someone I love, and It's going to take me a few days to let it go.

Aside from that, part of the argument was legitimate as hell; I apologised for, and agreed to stop being, an overbearing jerque. The other legitimate part was comprised of me asking her why she's been such a bitch lately, and her saying that it wasn't true. Sometimes I wonder how long I have until this, I guess. I've asked her about it before, and was never told that it *wouldn't* happen. Oh well, over-analysing is for retards; and anyway, there are bright spots everywhere. You just have to dig in order to find them, sometimes.

Damn, I'm trying to write this with MuchMusic on in the background. there's some sort of London concert on. Natalie Imbruglia's stupid music is kinda pointless, but fuznucket! Is she *ever* built for croptops and low-rider jeans. Shite, dude...

Oh yeah, this morning, my Agressive Biking Method� got sorely tested. I was biking to work, and some yahoo behind me laid on with his horn. I causally flipped him the bird without even looking back (a common tactic of mine). Mr Yahoo had a Yahoo Sidekick in the shotgun seat, so he gunned the engine and cut me off as we neared an intersection (had to save face, I guess). He looked all smug until I spat my gum right onto his windshield. A look of utter rage came over his face and he made for his door handle, so I blew him a kiss and blew the red light, turning down the following street and turning again on Ren� Levesque, before deaking into a little alcove. I was right: Mr Yahoo roared past, searching for me. Heh. I still like my Method�.

So, I've decided to write a one-act play with a minimal cast. Anyone want to assign me an idea? Drop me a note... If not, I'll come up with one myself...

Anyway, the Origamist is here now, and I'm going to go meet Hudson Girl later on (like midnight) to run a few lines, just because halfway home from my Girlfriend's place, I realised just how triple-fucked I am.



||Gods save the Queen,
||cf

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older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006

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