Sunday
Seeing as FOD is not putting my entries up, I'm putting up a few days worth of journal entries that have been languishing on my hard drive.
5 April 2003
I rode TRAX downtown, and there are all these cute guys wearing neckties, and more than one of them is being nice to me, almost enough for me to think I'm being hit on. But what the hell would any self respecting gay boy be doing awake at nine in the morning on a saturday?
Then one of the guys I'm chatting up says that he'd like to introduce me to his wife. His wife? he can't be more than a year or two older than I am. And he's hitting on me. What the fuck?
Oh, yeah. It's confrence weekend.
I gotta get out of this city. I mean, being nice to people when your not trying to get money from them or get into their pants? It just strikes me as fake. I don't believe for a second there is a single human on this planet who doesn't feel superior to everyone else; we couldn't survive without disproprtionately large egos. But as long as we all hate each other, can't we be honest about it?
=/\=
If Chris Rice is to be belived, New Orleans is the home of clubs that make Axis look timid, masoleums that make the set of 'Buffy' look cheerful, and repressed-but-hot Catholic school boys that make Andy look like Russ.
If Anne Rice is to believed, New Orleans is the home of Vampires, the living dead.
Either way, cool.
=/\=
So, the state mock trial championships were thursday. We should have lost. Technically, we did. In the overall point spread, Mountain View had more points than West. But two of the three judges gave West more points, by narrow margins, and it's done on a ballot system; in other words, we won on a technicality.
I'm not complaning. I'm going to New Orleans.
=/\=
My opening statement sucked. It was all narrative, with little finding of fact. In fact, the defense pretty much threw out the whole thing with their first line. "The prosecution has told you a story, but we're going to give you the facts." I'll have to do better at Nats - and in the humidity of the South in May.
I did good work objecting to Arnold's direct. I made four creation of material fact objections, argued them well, and had three sustained. Then I stood up and said, "Objection, that's unfair speculation." The defense attorney immediately responded, "It's in his statement." I said, "I'm not arguing that it's in his statement, I'm arguing that the statement itself is objectionable." And the defense attorney opened her mouth, but didn't know what to say. And it was good.
My cross of Arnold was more than good, it was fun. "Professor, can you tell me where in your statement it actually says you teach?" Boom. Dead on Arrival, that man is down. But he wasn't - he was a great witness, and we struggled for three minutes over our time, and I lost some of it, but in the end, it was the most fun I had in the whole damn competition. Whoot.
=/\=
My uncle John was in town, we played chess, he won. I paid for the ice cream. So friday night was good, too.
I fully expect to have a good day today - I'm going to see the CDT concert, possibly with, possibly without, Jeff - then Jeff and I will do the whole 'date' thing.
=/\=
I got the case from the national web site. It's all about election fraud, and all the characters are named after characters from Louisiana political history. And they use the phrase 'political chicanary,' bless 'em.
Most of my web time has been about searching the web for things to do in New Orleans, though. Theres two gay clubs within easy walking distance of the hotel we'll probably be staying at. I think I'll leave my inhibitions, such as they are, at home - along with most of my clothes. It will be humid, after all.
=/\=
But for now, I think I'll head back downtown and ogle missionaries. I may have mixed feelings about door-to-door conversion tactics, but as long as they keep wearing those cute little suits, I can keep my feelings to myself.
10 April 2003
Lets see - of three people assigned to the dance concert the week after we come back, one is sick and one is in Washington. It feels this way with all the shows. I can't even remember the last time I got to just sit down and tech, maybe design some lights. I won't even count the musical.
I think I'm gonna crack, if I have to do this much longer. It's really driving me nuts.
=/\=
Maybe thats one of the reasons it's such an appealing idea to do a film with Paul this summer. I'd just be DoP, and he'd handle all the other shit. We talked about it yesterday, on the way to Park City. He's really a fan of Reservoir Dogs, and wants to do a film about two assasins sitting on a rooftop, talking to each other.
We also talked about driving to New Orleans a few days before nationals. It would give us a few days to do all those things we won't be able to do during the competition. It would be a good send-off to high school, especially because I can't go to Moab with Libby &c.
=/\=
And I do need a last blast, so to speak. I was talking with my father today, about when I'm gonna move out. (He wants me to find roomates for the summer, I'd rather wait 'till I get my EMT certification in August. But I might do it, if I can find anyone to split a shitty apartment.) I'm looking forward to being on my own, and to getting the hell out of Utah - but I want one last chance to party white suburban middle-class teenage boy style.
Then again, I never quite got the hang of that whole scene anyway. I don't know why I always felt out of place when I was hanging with Sam or Mike. I mean, granted, my parents aren't lawyers, but we've never been hurting for money. And it's not the queer thing - alternative sexualities are back in style, much like flared jeans, pot, and other seventies fashions.
There a scene in Almost Famous where Phillip Seymore Hoffman's veteran rock critic is explaining what he thinks about art. Artists, apparently, are the chronically dispossessed. The ones who are always on the outside, looking in. How else can you see everything?
I don't know if I quite believe that. But it is a comforting thought.
=/\=
Okay, shit. I swore to myself that I wouldn't let this become just another angsty white kid bitching about how hard life is type of thing, like all those other BLOG's. Art is founded on elitism as much as observations, so I can only stay afloat as long as I'm better than everyone else. So much better, in fact, that I don't even bother trying to share my motivations, which are incomprehensible to the burgoise swine anyway. And in that spirit, I think I'll just make a gay joke and leave.
So, a rabbi, a drag queen, and John Travolta walk into a bar and [the punchline to this joke has been removed at the request of Mr. Travolta's lawyers.]
11 April 2003
So, Hillary got Josh Height to come back and run the dance concert after spring break. Cara's in D.C., and I'm gonna have to tell her as soon as she gets back. She's gonna flip. I think I want to rehearse what I'm gonna say to her.
If Hillary wants to put another crew in charge, it's her call, and that's that.
Wow. Shorter than I thought. I mean, its not like I actually enjoy running tech crew, and if Hillary wants to take some of the stress of my back, good for her. But I do run tech crew, and I bear the ultimate responsibility for the conduct of everyone on it. I talked with Hillary about who was going to be on the crew for this concert, and she disagreed with me, and since I wasn't going to change my mind, she decided to go over my head. Fine. It's not my show any more. Good luck to Josh, and I have other things to worry about.
But I can't just dismiss it. I haven't second-guessed anything I've done as head of tech so far, but now, I'm uneasy. If the dance teacher doesn't trust me to crew a show, I can't be doing a very good job, can I?
No. It's my job. If Hillary wants to second guess me, that's her regard, but I'm not gonna run around changing my decisions on everyone. If I say someone is doing a show, there it is. If a techie screws up, it's my responsibility, and if I'm going to take responsibility for the techies, then I also need to make the decisions regarding them. Otherwise, I'm not a leader, I'm a martyr. And I'm not going to go around pretending to be Jesus on everyone.
Just Captain Picard.
posted by J'myle 9:43 PM
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