12-12-1
So I went and saw Anne today. I need to decide what I want to be when I grow up. She keeps telling me I should stop trying to find something I love and settle for something I can tolerate. I can see where she's coming from, but I want my life to be happy, not just tolerable. I mean, I'm going to school and getting an education for a reason, right? I'm getting an education so I can find a job that I enjoy and that doesn't suck. I'm going to college so I don't have to work in factories anymore. Or retail. Or food service. A shit job is a shit job, and I don't want one. So I'm supposed to get aa job I don't exactly like, and then do what I enjoy in my spare time. But if I'm working 9-5, M-F, what time is left? It's not a problem if it's a job I enjoy, but a shit job?
On the other hand, I've always made clear to myself that I am not my job. My job is something I do to get money. So where does this lead me? Follow it to its logical conclusion. Hmmm. This is my life. But my job is not me. My job is not my life. So, by that rationale, settling for a job I'm not terribly excited about shouldn't be a problem.
Fucking logic.
So, if my job is not my life, but instead a reletively small aspect thereof, as I insist is the case, it is not a terrible loss to take a job I'm not thrilled about.
Ok. Now that I've sorted that out, where do I go? What kind of job do I want? I want a 9-5 job where once I'm done for the day, I'm done. I want a job where I can be creative. I want a job that employs my talents and challenges my intellect. I want a pitcher, not an underwear stitcher. I want Fred Flintstone in the house, Fred's cat out the house. Stay outside for the night! I want shoes on Fred and Barney! Every time, take that big stone car down the street, through the courtesy of Fred's two feet! Say it with me! Yabba dabba doo!
Sorry. I switched into SNL Jesse Jackson mode.
Damn it, what's that guy's name? You know, the guy on SNL who does Jesse Jackson and Al Gore, Dick Cheney, Bill Clinton, Sean Connery... It's on the tip of my tongue. I keep thinking Colin Quinn, but I know that's not right. Darrell Hammond!
I feel much better now.
Anywho, about this job thing. Where does all this point to?
I think the answer is obvious. Don't you? I'm supposed to be a cop. Wait. That's not right. Maybe writing is my calling. I'm a decent social critic. At least that's what I'm told. I'm a decent write, I'm told as well.
It's a big step, though. I'll have to think about it.
At any rate, I really need to do another review. Actually more than one. Perhaps later this week, but I'm not making any promises.
12-11-1
Tina's still sick. It sucks. I hate when she's sick. I sent her an e-greeting card.
I'm almost done with Mom and Dad's present. I just need to print up some stuff, and I'll be done.
I also need to rewrap Cthulu's present. It's got a couple parts I need to repaint.
Kara came up on Sunday. That was nice. Kara's cool. Emily came by to visit as well, which was kinda weird. Oh well.
I need to get my pictures developed. I also need to use up the rest of that folm, so I can get it developed too.
I'm tired and hungry.
It's kinda weird rambling at this site, since I have to hit
every time I start another thought.
It's annoying.
Oh well. At least I have a site up again, and HTML isn't all that bad. I mean Homestead did have its advantages, but simple HTML is really a lot easier to deal with, y'know?
Lord of the Rings comes out soon. Hooray!
Harry Potter was pretty good, too.
So, there's two sets of books I need to read. I'm not gonna read LOTR until after I see the movies, since the books are always better.
Fuffy T's insane. He was following me around, meowing all morning. I gave him some food, even though he already had some. He told me he wanted more. Well, he looked at the food he had, then walked over to the closet where we keep the food, and meowed. A lot. So I gave him more food, and he ate, like, one little whatever it is. Then he runs up and starts meowing again. So, I walk over to the food and stand there. He insists I watch him eat. Why? No idea. But I have to watch him eat. Otherwise, he will not shut up.
Happy Hannukah.
12-4-1
Well, it's been a while, but I finally have a site back up. It took a bit of work a lot of disk space, but it's finally here.
At least to an extent.
So, it's getting to be that time of the year again. Time for giving people presents they don't like. I know what I'm giving people.
I've been working 12 hours and 13 minutes, straight, now. I'm starting to get tired, which is to be expected. I've only got a little less than 2 hours left. Then it's nap time.
I'm taking classes next semester. Good for me.
Yawn.
So, I really don't have anything to say, other than to point out that the new site is up and running, but I guess you figured all that out for yourself, now, didn't you?
9-18-1 U2's coming to town. I'm getting a ticket. Kara, you kick ass. I've gotten a bit of a backlash from several people regarding my previous ramble. From what I can tell, I'm an elitist snob who thinks the attack on the World Trade Center was justified. Oh, and I guess it is just to kill thousands of innocent people as long as it's in a war. I keep hearing that. I couldn't be more off about Hiroshima and Nagasaki. My whole argument thereis ridiculous. We were in a war, then. It's ok. Let me get this straight. If we declare war on someone (or someone declares war on us), it's perfectly fine for us to head over to their country, bypass all the legitimate military (or even political) targets, and nuke the hell out of their civilians? But it ended the war! That doesn't justify it. Look at it from this perspective: You're an influencial person in a small country. For the past several years, you've been at war with agroup of people who have unjusly taken land that belonged to your people for thousands of years. Not only have they taken your land, but there's a big bully halfway around the world saying it's ok and providing them with weapons so they can kill your people for it. So, you have a holy war on your hands, and you decide the best way of winning is to hit the source of their weapons, so you send a few planes over there and kill a bunch of civilians. Is that justified? How about this: You're in the Marines, and one day you're sent off to a small country in Asia. While you're there, you're ordered by your commanding officer to kill civilians and burn down villages. Your government never declared war on these people. Is it justified? America's not as great as it seems. Sure, it has its advantages, but it's no better than other countries out there. This raises a question. We like to call this the land of the free, but are we really free? I don't mean this in a philosophical Free Will vs. Determinism way. I mean are we free in the sense that we cancome and go as we please and do what we want? Naturally, there are laws that prohibit certain things, like murder, rape, theft, etc. But what about other things, like property? For example, we like to think we own things. We consider things to be ours and no one else's. We like to think we have privacy. What we tend to remain ablivious to is the fact that the government can take it all away at the drop of a hat. The government can and does take from the people. It's not always for a good cause, either. A city can seize "private" land to build a golf course. It can build a tourist attraction that few people come to and that most people don't even want and charge it to the people. It can prevent you from going outside at certain times. It can, and does, require you to buy things you don't want or need. Did you know that if you don't retire by the time you're 70, the government can take over half your retirement fund? We like to think it's all for a good cause, but is it, really? Land of the Free? I don't think so. We have an illusion of freedom, and it's been ground into our psyche since day one. I honestly believe that, in the wake of the ever-so-recent national disaster, many of our civil liberties will be revoked. The whole system sucks. I need a private island somewhere. But, y'know, I really don't care about it as much as I'm letting on. It's one of those things that just bugs me from time to time. At any rate, U2's coming to town, and I'm pretty happy about that. 9-12-1 I avoid watching the news. Anything interesting happen lately? Yes, I'm kidding. First of all, I think we should take a moment of silence to remember those lost in the catastrophe. Ok. As always, my way of coping is with humor, so forgive me if I seem unsensative. Anyway, it was on every channel on TV (except Comedy Central and Cartoon Network), and I think we all know what happened. What are my thoughts? I bet you're all dying to know. I find it a bit disturbing. By it, of course, I'm not referring to the terrorism. I'm referring to the reaction. Yes we're all saddened by it. Yes, it was horrible and unnecessary. Yes, it was unexpected. But it's not as unheard of as we'd like to think. Every day, we look away from the atrocities that plague other naitions. We turn our backs to the slaughter of innocent people. We look away when the camera captures the soldier shoots the peacefull demonstrator. I'm guessing almost nobody reading this knows who Father Rufus is, what happened to him, and why. Every day, we ignore this. Suddenly, terror srikes in our own back yard. Finally, we sit up and take notice. Oh my God. People are attacking innocent civilians? How can this happen? What does it mean? Oh no, the Palestinians are dancing in nthe streets! How horrible! What kind of country is this where foreign people can come in and just kill innocents? I'll tell you what kind. Normal. Yes, normal. I've been rather vocal about my distaste for the American psyche, and here it is again, biting us in the ass. Why should an attack be so inconceivable? We know that plenty of Middle Eastern countries are at odds with this country. We're all familiar with all the violence that goes on out there. Why is it a new thing if the people who hate us attack us? But they killed innocent people! Yes. Yes they did, and it's horrible. It's disgusting. It's heart-wrenching. It's also something the United States has done in the past. Or do I need to remind you of two little towns in Japan called Hiroshima and Nagasaki? But this was an unprovoked act of war! Was it? I don't think so. I'm not saying it's justified by any means, but it is something that, in hindsight, seems predictable. You know how these militant fundies get. At any rate, why is it ok for us to destroy innocent lives, but wrong for others? We can dish it out, but Lord knows we can't take it. We live on a pedestal. This is America, the world's shining beacon of liberty. This country is at the head of the free world. All other nations are inferior. This is America. We are untouchable. No one would dare cross us. Nope, because this is America. Sound cocky? You bet. It's also the way we think. Hell, we expect everyone else to mourn for us as a nation. Of course, when it happens in other countries, we turn a deaf ear. I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome the United States to the real world. We're no longer on that pedestal. We're just like everyone else. We always have been. Now we're screaming for blood. We want to find ad kill whoever is responsible. Well, most of us. I don't. I think if we truly are a great nation, we need to fix the damage, save the lives, grieve the losses, and bury the dead. We need to make sure it won't happen again. We need justice, not vengeance. I pity all the future victims of lesser terrorism against people of Middle Eastern heritage in this country caused by insane Americans out for blood. I pity for the familes of those who were killed in the planes and the buildings. I pity for those who are buried alive. I pity the cocky and ignorant for the tiny bubble in which they once lived. Most of all, I pity America for our loss. Give blood. 9-4-1 So, I only got about 2 hours of sleep last night, if that. It sucks. I need to do something. I feel like I'm stuck at a stage in my life and it's time to move on. I really have no idea where I'm going, and I don't have any plans. So, I guess I'm at a crossroads or something. I dunno. Eliza Dushku has a strange name. I don't know what I'm rambling about, and, honestly, I don't care. I hunger. I'm tired. Those seem to be the most consistant themes in my life. Hungry and tired. On my gravestone, it'll say that. Hungry and tired. I like Moby. Moby's pretty cool. I find myself respecting musicians I don't really like. For example, I'm not a fan of Janet Jackson. Truth be told, I don't like her at all. But... Her music was very popular as I was growing up and, as such, she has had an influence on my life, for better or for worse. She's good at what she does, and, while it's not my thing, it deserves respect. I don't really know what it is. It's like I somehow owe it to myself to own at least one CD of every musician I have respect for. This will never happen, of course, since the purpose of buying CDs is to listen to the music. You know what else I find interesting? People let too much get in the way of enjoying good music. Like personal politics. I like Bonnie Raitt's music, and all, but Idon't agree with her on the issue of... What does it matter? You're not negotiating or arguing with her. She's not preaching to you. She's playing her guitar and singing about, well, whatever it is she sings about. At any rate, ou don't necessarily have to agree with someone on every issue to appreciate his or her music. I also find myself respecting Gwen Stefani. I'm not sure why. I'm not into No Doubt. Fact is, I never even really listened to them. Nevertheless, I respect her for what she does. Here's the really disturbing part: I'm starting to respect Christina Aguilera as an artist. Yes, I know, it goes against everything I stand for, but, damn it, she's actually good at what she does. Granted, I don't really care for what she does, but, by God, she's good at it. What does all this say? I'm not sure. I just like music. Maybe it's my own way of supporting women in music. You know, I was just reading my previous ramble, and I think I'm a pretty decent writer. Granted, I'm no Walt Whitman, but I still think I don't suck. So, it looks like the manager of the bookstore, Brian Freese, is being a complete ass. He's not allowing students to advertise on the bulletin boards that they're selling their books. Now, this is a state-run university, meaning it's public, which, of course, means it's public property. If you'd like to complain about this, his e-mail address is bfreese@iusb.edu. Feel free to call him a dick. Also, let the chancellor know how you feel. His address is klperrin@iusb.edu. Then, there's also mzemke@iusb.edu, kwhite@iusb.edu, cpfeifer@iusb.edu, and jcaul@iusb.edu. So, the consultants' machine isn't working, so I'm out in the lab. I put a sign up at the desk, clearly stating where I am, and, evidently, reading is no longer a requirement to get into college. Also, what's with the students who turn the computers off? And why is it that if a computer's off, students are unable to turn it on? It's not that hard. Oh well. I've been writing long enough. 8-30-1 So, I traded my Monday hours for more Thursday hours. Know what that means? 4-day weekends! I am rule. Sitting in a lab. A boring computer lab. I remember back in the day, when the Web was new to me, I'd sit for hours and hours, just surfing, fascinated by all that information. Now look at me. A tired old pop star in platform shoes. Isn't that what happens to us all? We each have our glorious, shining moment in the sun, only tbe cast aside for the next big thing. There's always something better coming along. Sure, you were pretty cool, back in the day, but now, you're old news. This is where you hear the typical well, not me, friend, monologue, but, frankly, it'll happen to us all. A hundred years from now, no one's gonna remember us, our generation, our way of life. I come from the ass-end of the ill-fated "Generation X". I remember when Pearl Jam first got famous, when coffee bars and goatees were the thing to do, and when Kurt Cobain painted the wall with his brain. I remember people mourning the guy's death, saying he'll always be remembered. I remember walking into school and seeing a group of kids gathered around a student with a guitar, playing Nirvana songs. I had the MTV unplugged album. I wore the flannel. There was something oddly pure about it. Hell, even Woodstock '94 wasn't all that bad. I'm part of a generation of cynical kids looking for cultural definition, and I think that's how it's always gonna be. I grew up with heroes like Luke Skywalker and Optimus Prime. Every generation in the 20th century had some aspect that brought them together and defined them. They had 2 World Wars, a Great Depression, and a conflict in Vietnam. For years, I'd thought to myself, what about me? What is it that brings my generation together? We had no war, except maybe Desert Storm, but does that even count? We didn't protest. We didn't have brothers going overseas to fight and never return, well, not all of us. We only had our teen angst and nothing to distract us from it. And the same question always arose. What about us? What's our defining moment? I think that our very lack of a moment is what defined us. We're a bitter generation because life was too good. We didn't know conflict. We spoiled ourselves and blamed our parents. Now we're a bunch of bitter parents, husbands, and wives. The biggest issue we've had to deal with was the fact that Metallica didn't like having their property given away. What does this say about humanity? Here, we have a generation that life's been good to. We had no war, no plague, no swarm of locusts devouring our crops, no dust bowl, no depression. But we view it as a bad thing. It's like we need something bad to happen if we want to be good people. The whole thing is just screwy. So, we carve our niche into society as a generation and a culture, and we move along. Our fifteen minutes are up; it's time for the next group. We had our shining, glorious moment, and we didn't know it was there, all the while hoping something would come along. Now look at us, tired old pop stars in platform shoes. 8-27-1 So, I saw J&SBSB on Friday. I loved it. It's really funny. The revies all pretty much said it's great if you're a Kevin Smith fan, but it sucks otherwise, and I can definitely see that. As a matter of fact, Smith explicitly says it's directed at the fans. Anyway, I loved it, and I want to see it again. It was kind of bittersweet, though, at the end. The credits said, "Jay and Silent Bob have left the building." After the credits, Alanis Morrisette closes the View Askew book, and we fade to black. It was a good run, and I'm glad they didn't run it into the ground. The whole movie was an homage to its past, pretty much. My CDs came. That Moby's one weird mother-- --Shut yo mouth!-- I'm just talkin' 'bout Moby! George had this great idea, and I wanna do it sometime. He wants to do a live-action stop-motion fight sequence. It's the first day of classes, and you know what that means. Lots of idiot freshmen asking idiot questions and offering to pay me. Hmmm. I need to call Linda. We got cable. That's a good thing. It's cheaper than videos, and we can actually watch TV without having to play with the antenna. I want to make another figure, but I don't really know who I should do. Actually, I'd like to go into business making customs. I made Joe one, which he forgot to take with him. I also wanna do something with my site, but I'm not sure what I want to do. I haven't really added anything new to it lately. I have the music from the end of Mallrats going through my head. Oh well. 8-23-1 I haven't rambled in forever. Why start now? Good question. So, I don't have any hours this weekend. What a glorious occasion. My birthday was last weekend. It occurred to me that I wrote about my birthday last year, meaning this site is over a year old. Wow. For those of you who give a damn, here's what people were goodly enough to give me: Tina: A Star Wars Ketwol figure. (He comes with pants!) A Masters of the Universe Man E Faces figure. A CD player. Dave & Emily: The latest Megatron. Sure it's not a gun, but it's till pretty gosh darn cool. Mom and Dad: A sport coat. Slacks, Socks. Shoes. A dress shirt. A tie. A 3 pack of Mr. Yoshida's sauces. Joe: A really neat silver plating kit. George: Lost Highway on video. Trent: A nun action figure. No, I'm not making that up. So, I was supposed to work on my birthday, but fate has a weird sense of irony. Naturally, I didn't want to go, but I planned to anyway. I called in and said I was gonna be late, since I forgot to wash my uniform. So, when the whites come out of the dryer, they're all purple. I'd inadvertantly left a purple crayon in one of my shirts. So, I called in again and told them about the situation. I have Tool's Schism and nine Inch Nails' The Fragile both going through my head. Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back comes out tomorrow. I plan on seeing it, but I hate opening nights. Plus, Bubble Boy is also opening, and that looks like it'll be a crowd pleaser. Stupid Americans. I think it's kind of funny, though, how much press JSBSB is getting, though. 10 years ago, Kevin Smith and Jason Mewes were a couple regular guys from Red Bank, New Jersey, of all places. Today, they're national pop-culture icons. What really gets me though, and I think this is just so cool, is that there are two completely independant characters based on real people. Rather than have a board of producers and studio execs make up these guys based on their demographic desires, Smith put Mewes in front of the camera and had him act like he normally does. Smith, himself, just walked around and didn't say anything. I'm pretty tired. Went to Dave's last night and played with Transformers. I like Transformers. 8-13-1 Well, last week is over, thank God. It was a bitch. It's relaxation week for me, now, although I do have to work on the weekend. When I lived in Austria, there was this Robin Hood mini series/TV show that was really cool, and I'd really like to see it again. The problem is that I don't know what it's called or where I can rent it from. For some reason, I've always been fascinated by the Robin Hood story. I just thought it was really cool. And, yes, I did like the Kevin Costner movie. Went and saw The Others yesterday. It wasn't bad, but it was kinda boring at parts. They did show the trailer for Jay and Silent Bob, though. Fuffy T's a yittle grey cat. My birthday's coming up. Everyone should send their best wishes. I'm special. Yes, you're supposed to laugh. Special like a fox. Joe asked me to make him a figure I'm not sure what it's for, but I'll make sure I scan it when it's done. Saying which, I need to borrow that Het figure I made George. So, anyway, I think I've gotten used to and accepted Attack of the Clones as the next Star Wars movie. Everyone else thinks it's horrible. I think it works. I need a drink. I could also use a case of Foster's. 8-6-1 I'm dreading this week. In addition to my usual 20ish hours at IUSB, I'm looking at about 40 more at ND. I had to work at 8 this morning and leave at 12 so I could get here at 1 (and stay here until 6:45). Then I work Thursday at 6:00 pm, Friday at 9:30 am, and Saturday at 8:00 am, and I expect to get out of that shift at about 1:00 am on Sunday. You see, due to some unfortunate planning, two wedding receptions were booked an hour apart from each other, meaning we get only 60 minutes to tear down the entire room and put it all back up again. The dishwashers are gonna hate us. So, we went out with Martin and Kerry yesterday. We hadn't seen them in years. A lot of years. It was kinda neat to show off our tattoos to people who've never seen them. (We got them in the summer of '99.) We went out to Hacienda and talked about stuff. I gave Martin my fall-apart Shaggy. I might not be able to work in the labs this fall, which'll suck. Good thing I have the other job. But still. I need a vacation. I may have to take a day or two off. And have some beers. At any rate, I need a nap (or something). I'm already worn out. 8-1-1 So, the groundspeople here are killing the bunnies. Bastards. I don't really have much to ramble about. I've been kinda moody lately. I hate weddings. I hate everything about them. They're so depressing. George's birthday was on Sunday. I made him a James Hetfield figure out of a Sabretooth figure. I had to reposition his arms and fingers. I think it came out well. I should ask if I can scan it. I cut my finger while working on it. I cut it pretty deep, too. I had to work a banquet the next day, so the wound kept opening, and I was bleedingprofusely. Luckily, I had the foresight to put a latex glove finger on over my bandage. George also got the Stanley Kubrick collection on VHS. I'm gonna have to borrow some of them. 8^) We watched A Clockwork Orange. Great movie. Love it. I got the Elevation single. It's pretty cool. It has a live version of Last Night on Earth and a cover of Don't Take Your Guns to Town. I really want to get a copy of Hasta La Vista, Baby. That's the title of the Mexico City concert album, BTW. It's actually an official album, but it was only available to people who subscribe to Propaganda, the official U2 magazine. And it was free for them. Oh well. What is it about Charlie Sheen? 7-24-1 Ugh. Someone farted. I'd like to address something that's been bothering me a lot lately. I've mentioned this to a few people, but I think I should say it here: When making a film, the director does not have absolute creative control. He has no say in how the story goes, how the dialogue goes, or anything like that. I don't know how many time's I've heard people blame Spielberg for the crappy dialogue and plot devices in The Lost World. You can't blame him. He didn't write it. "But he's the director." So? You know what the director does? He translates the script to film. That's all. The director is almost always bound to what the writer writes and what the producers suggest. Have a problem with the story? Blame the writer or, more likely, the producer. So, the omputer's getting fixed. That means no computer for a while, but that's ok. I changed my Mara Jade figure. The original head I used was too caroony, so I made another one. It looks a lot better and much more Star Warsy. I had to work a wedding reception on Saturday, and I realized something. I hate weddings. They depress me. I still haven't figured out why that is, but they do. I don't think I wanna go to anymore weddings. Ever. It's nothing personal. It's just a matter of mental health. !'(V) 1337. 7-18-1 I have Two Hearts Beat as One going through my head. Good song. I'm also on a it of an INXS kick, which sucks, since I don't have any INXS CDs. So, I sold my soul to BMG in return for some. Jurassic Park III (or JP3, as the cool people say) opens today. I'm really looking forward to it, which is kind stupid, since I didn't care much for the first, and the second, well, sucked. Maybe I'm looking for redemtion. I dunno. At any rate, I;ve been on a bit of a Jurassic Park kick, too. I just finished the book. I'm tired. I couldn't sleep last night. I hate when that happens. So, now I can hardly stay awake. Oh well. I'm almost done with Mechapostle. It's looking pretty neat. I just need a big gun to mount on it. I wanna make a Chief Brody figure, or at least someone from Jaws. Saying which, I bought Jaws, the two-tape set, at Wal-Mart for ten bucks. Oh my God. That just screams Awful Link. I hate people who choose to be ignorant. So, Trent, Dave, and I were in a Christian chat room. Those are so much fun. Fundies are easy targets. Anyway, as usual, some troublemaker comes in to make things a lot stupider and piss people off. This time around, it was some guy called LordXAbortion, whom Trent and I called Lord Fetus Killer. I guessed he was about 15. Trent guessed 11. Anyway, he was being annoying and stupid, insinuating that Dave and Trent were gay, being a dick, you get the idea. So Trent and I are busy making fun of him, and suddenly Dave just says, "One time, LordXAbortion got really drunk, so I put his dick in my mouth and took some pictures. Won't he be embarrassed!" A few seconds later, Lord Fetus gets booted. It was great. I haven't laughed that hard since... I don't even remember. Like I said, Christian chat rooms are funny. 7-10-1 Bored. May as well ramble. I hunger. I just posted my Indy figure. I'm so proud of it. It came out really well. I think I'll go touch the machines, but I dunno. Y'know. I'm also tired. I keep thinking there's something I need to do today. Oh yeah, I need to go shopping. I hate going shopping. I'm Ram Man. For some reason, I find myself really looking forward to Jurassic Park III. I'm not sure why, since I expect it'll suck. Hell, the first two weren't all that great. I don't know if I mentioned it earlier, but I got Million Dollar Hotel. Damn good movie. The Final Fantasy movie comes out tomorrow. I kinda wanna see it. I think I'll go touch the machines now. I don't have anything to say, and I need to come up with something to use for my opening crawl. 7-9-1 Been a while since I rambled. Hmmm.... Anyway, on July 4th, Tina, George, and I met up with Dave, Emily, Trent, Steve, Bittle, and Ross to set off some fireworks at the Darden St. foot bridge. It's a nice place. Pleasant. We'd done it the previous year, and we were alone, so we figured we might as well do it this year, too. A while after we got there, other peoplestarted showing up. Lots of people. People with illegal fireworks. Now, I have no problem with illegal fireworks, ethically, as long as they're used responsibly. One group of people had all kinds of cool stuff, and they knew what they were doing. Another group of people had a bunch of cool stuff and didn't know what they were doing. For starters, one of them was an amateur chemist. He filled a bucket with water and dumped a bunch or magnesium (I believe) in it. That's just a bad idea. Some of these people attached a bunch of roman candles to sticks and shot them off. They also accidentally lit off a bunch of... something, resulting in a huge fire. After a while, we all went back to George's to hang out. Before going home, though, we decided we'd go back to the bidge to see how big the scorch marks were. Well, we got there, and that was all kinds of fireword residue in the middle of the bridge. As we kept walking, we found a sizale hole on the floor of the bridge. Shit. Just past that, there was a huge hole blown through the railing. I have no idea what could have caused it, but it pissed me off for two reasons: 1. Chances are we won't be able to do fireworks there anymore. 2. This bridge is one of the coolest things South Bend has to offer. We used to come here to duel with toy lightsabres and stuff. It was built in the 1800's out of an old ferris wheel. Now, it's ruined. AI was a really really good movie. Tina and I went to see Moulin Rouge, too. That was fucked up. But I really really liked it. I want to get the soundrtack. I bought Ram Man from Casey. The spring is pretty much shot, but I still like it. I'm also working on my Indiana Jones figure. Oh, and I bought Million Dollar Hotel. I absolutely love that movie. It's incredible.