othelladub's Diaryland Diary


Macgyver and Doogie are gone forever. fuck.

Several times in the past few weeks I have had disturbing or bizarre dreams. I don't know if I am to take them, and incorporate them into my life, in some way, or simply trash them, and move on.

There is so much garbage/shit to dispose of, I don't know where to start. I'm reading something really interesting right now - a book I bought in San Diego. And that, combined with my frequent forays to www.bskball.com have kept my creeping insanity from dominating my cerebral cortex as of late.

San Diego was not the valhalla I had hoped. We stayed in the US Grant hotel, and then switched to the Hyatt on the last night. There were various comic book dudes there, and I mingled to some extent, but I felt in large degree like a phantom. I need to wake the fuck up and live again. But I dont want to cut myself or get in a fight or alter my brain chemistry with opiates, so my options are rather limited.

there is a part of me that is hopeful. I need to write. write whatever comes into my mind. finish writing a play/comic that I had been working on a few months back. read a few more chapters of a vonnegut book.

my friends little brother's (he's 21, actually, but to me he will always seem 14) was giving me advice and shit in san diego. she was saying how she was dating this guy who moved to washington and how she carried on this relationship with the mug for 2 years, and then he moved back to SoCal - with his new girlfriend. ... why she told me that story, I don't know - I tend to be rather stubborn and I'm often dense when it comes to allowing reality to settle in on my soul.

of course my friend's li'l bro wasn't quite the ladies man he was last year, as he has this girlfriend, and she spent one of the nights with us in san diego, so he was on good behavior, I guess.

the whole experience was pretty chill. the best part was hitting denny's at 3am on sunday morning (the last day of the 'con) and having a long roundtable discussion with Chris, Tim (chris's bro), Courtney (tim's girl) and some other dude who's name I can't remember but who had an ego of fucking william shatner - he was nice enough, but damn! --

and the collective energy of the geekdom I was awash in, allowed me, for short bursts, to feel as cool as muthafuckin' James Dean. well, given my surroundings, it wasn't hard to feel cool in comparison ...

since i've been back i've bounced around, seen a few movies, thought about buying moby and daft punk cds, but gone ahead without buying them -

I've been reading

Come In Alone, by Warren Ellis (commentary on the decrepit state of the comics' industry)

White Teeth (will I ever finish it?)

Slaughterhouse Five (same as above)

http://sarchasm.diaryland.com (she's going to art school. bitch)

http://ripe.diaryland.com (more drama than you can shake a stick at! if my life was this interesting, I would miss out on all the tv, and comic books, and endless hours of droning work that I endure...wait!)

http://shes-a-girl.diaryland.com (portland never sounded so fun)

I'm drinking a Lipton Rasberry iced tea right now.

someday Doogie Howser will return to the Airwaves, as a fully formed adult. Neil Patrick Harris, where are you man? Your little computer diary entries at the end of the show used to convey such nuggets of wisdom. Fuck, man!! You and Macgyver are gone!!!


9:05 p.m. - 2001-07-29


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