I DO NOT REGRET THE THINGS I'VE DONE...

I've been thinking a lot the last few days about regret. These thoughts didn't just come out of the blue. There is a reason behind it, although I choose not to share that reason at this time. Believe it or not there are some things too personal to broadcast over the internet.

I'd like to say that I don't regret anything. That old saying "I don't regret the things I've done, but those I did not do," yeah I wish I could say that. It's cool (just like Fonzie). It's a sophisticated yet concise way of saying "fuck you. I don't make mistakes. I'm proud of everything I've done, and to hell with you if you can't take it." Okay, maybe it doesn't say all that...but close enough.

The truth is that I do regret some of the things I've done. Many in fact. I don't have enough time or patience to sit here and list all of them, but trust me they're there.

(I hate to get off track here, but I'm not sure that "they're there" is very good writing. Oh well...fuck it.)

Anyway, I guess everyone makes mistakes. With the exception of Jesus that is, but that guy was a shitty carpenter. My problem isn't that I make mistakes. I'm fine with it. God only knows how big my ego would get if I didn't ever err.

My problem is this: most of the mistakes I make directly hurt other people.

And that's what I regret.


ALL TIME TOP TEN BEST MOVIES

I've seen a lot of movies in my life. A lot. More so than I could ever, or more accurately would ever, count. And I've started compiling, in my head, a list of the ten best movies I've ever seen. Not my favorite movies, those go on an entirely different list. I'm talking about the best crafted based on story, dialogue, directing, lighting...the works.

I haven't finished the list, not even close. But I'll let you know as soon as I do.

For now I'll offer you this: Of the IMDB top 250, I have seen 110. Of the bottom 100, I have seen 28.

Do with that what you will.

...GOTTA PROMISE NOT TO STOP WHEN I SAY WHEN...

If anyone ever asks me why I love Renee I will give them this quote. I'm not exactly sure what she said, but it was something along the lines of "it was raining so I was in the mood for a French film."

Oh yeah, that's my girlfriend.


NEXT TIME

The first section of my next blog entry will be titled "Adam or Anna". I'd like to tell you what that refers to, but I'd hate to ruin the surprise...

BEAUTY IN THE BREAKDOWN

I feel like Charlie Kaufman. Not that I'd ever consider myself to be equal to him in any way. I'm just saying that as of right now we have something in common.

A couple weeks ago, nevermind how long exactly, I started working on my screenplay again. Things were going well. I was rifling through it, getting nearly ten pages written a day. Then I got to page 57, which going by my outline I should I have been at around page 67 in the story, but that was honestly the least of my worries. I was stuck. And not just a little stuck either. Cut to a week later and I'm only on page 59. I've written two pages in a week. Granted it's been a pretty busy week with both the girlfriend and the best friend showing their faces in Greenwood, but still...two pages!

Where am I stuck, you ask? The first date. The one between the main character and the love interest. In the original draft their conversation seemed forced and really delivered too much about their respective characters than any conversation in real life ever would. So I'm trying to fix it. Make it more like real life. Like how two members of the opposite sex would talk on a first date.

...But here's the thing: I don't know how people really talk.

I know how my friends and I talk. We have perfectly good conversations. The only problem is that the majority of our conversations are spent on movies, comic books, or comic book movies.

I don't know how to talk to girls. At all. The only reason that I have a girlfriend is because she has more balls than I do. Figuratively speaking that is. Hell, I didn't even know our first date was an actual date until she kissed me. And when I say "kissed me" I don't mean "kissed back after I went for it." She physically grabbed me and kissed me. I can't read signals, I don't know what women are thinking, and I sure as shit wouldn't know how to go about striking up a conversation with one.

So that's what I've done in the screenplay. I made the girl the aggressor. She does all the talking. But I'm still stuck. I feel like pacing around my room talking into a tape recorder and taking periodic breaks just to masturbate.

But I can't find my tape recorder.

The date scene isn't the only problem though. I'm really worried about the ending. I hate the original ending, and I don't know why. I don't know if it's because the original ending is genuinely bad, or if I'm just tired of it cause the screenplay has had the same ending for the last three years.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I'm giving serious thought to going to law school. But that's only because like 90% of the characters on The West Wing are lawyers. That's probably not the best reason to do something. Christ I'm already taking Latin solely because Aaron Sorkin knows Latin. I honestly think that's where my psuedo-obsession should end.

But I can't write screenplays, and I can't think of anything better to do.


BITTER SWEET HOMECOMING...OF SORTS

Disclaimer: This is a story about hockey so if you're afraid that it might bore you skip on down.

A few years back the Kansas City Blades had this goalie named Patrick LaLime. It would have to be a few years back because the Blades, along with the rest of the IHL, collapsed about four years ago.

Patty, as I affectionately call him, went on to play in the NHL for the Ottawa Senators where he pretty much kicked ass. He's my favorite goaltender by far. He's the truth. He's got Marvin the Martian on his goalie helmet. Even if you don't like hockey, you gotta love that.

They say that he's more than a man but less than a God. Actually nobody says that. I just made that up. I really should stop that.

Anyway, earlier this week Patty was traded to the St. Louis Blues. He'll be playing his home games two hours away from where I'll be living, this will undoubtedly prompt me to see more Blues games, and I'm actually really excited to see him play.

But the Blues? They suck. Not "suck" as in they're the worst team in the league. They just aren't good. They're just bad enough for me to say that they suck. In a lot of ways that's the worst kind of bad.

The thing is that Patty LaLime is one of my favorite players and I'd like to see him play for a contender. As happy as I am that he's back in Missouri, my desire to see him on a winning team supersedes my joy.

Ya know? (said as Tom Cruise impersonating Cuba Gooding Jr. in Jerry MaGuire)


MY CLEAN SHAVIN SUMMER OF SELF IMPROVEMENT

It's a wash. Plain and simple. I haven't shaved. I haven't improved. I haven't done shit.

I am in love though so I guess that counts for something.

Plus, I'm totally going to shave on Tuesday. Maybe it's not a wash. Maybe I'm just off to a late start.

Maybe...