Camera Time

Now that I have a digital camera, I have something to fill up the empty void of a life I call exsistence. I'm gonna go get some eyeliner.

These aren't in any space-time order because blogger's photo adding tool confused me.

This is my roomate. It is a fern. I'm deciding what to name it.

This is what you can see from my window at about 5:00 PM. Yes, that is Lake Michigan.
The stuff on my desk after I messed around with the "effects" button on my camera.
My boss sent this to me. Go figure. It holds up my DVD player.

This is what you see when you enter.

This is my ode to sticky tack.

Huh, wonder who that creeper could be....

Anyway, there is my free and unasked for tour of my room (minus the stuff I didn't want you to see, i.e. whips and chains, my Haitian slave). Hope you enjoyed it enough to come back someday.

It's been one week--

Oh, barenaked ladies. I wonder how many elderly perverts went to one of their concerts planning to see a few barenaked ladies. That kinda disappointment just sucks.

I'm not even gonna try to describe everything that's happened since my last post, for one because I don't think anyone really cares....for two, it would be a lot of writing.

What can I say, SOA was a blast. I got to meet up with old friends (yes, you Courtney) and make some new ones (like smelly Larry, and some dude we found on our hotel room's floor). Somehow I was able to abuse everyone's charitable spirit and get the bed both nights. Wary nice!

After getting back at 6 AM Monday, I went back to the 734 at 3:30 Tuesday. And yes, I almost missed the bus for a second time. Tuesday night I hung out with my buddy Eric, and concieved plans for a Toronto trip after I turn 19. Wednesday I worked for a good amount of time, then went to Texas Roadhouse (for the first time in about five years) with another Erik, Dano, Colleen, Julie, and other assorted band chicks. Quite yummy. Then the night continued with a trip to Maxwells to converse with two Houstons, a Hasbrook, and Chrandy (basically we swapped drinking stories).

Thursday was Thanksgiving, which we had at out house for a change. The turkey was a little dry, but I did manage to sneak some wine with my parents. My aunt came with a OSU Taiwanese exchange student who was pretty good at making pie. I thought maybe I should hang out with her, but I had so many people to do and places to see, it was tough.

Highlight of the break: Thursday night was very foggy, and we had the bright idea to go see a movie in Maumee. I was looking for (then passing) the theater in my trusty '93 Honda Accord when the road dead-ended without my knowledge. I slammed on the brakes just in time to take out a sign with a bunch of reflectors on it (first technical "crash" on my list). Some old lady saw and came over to see if I was alright. I thought the whole thing was pretty righteous, but I tried to look somewhat shaken. We put the sign up and made some small talk, and then some lady in the parking lot yelled "hey!" and the lady suggested I take off, and I didn't argue. Good times. Diane, if your reading this, thanks for "not seeing anything," as you said (no, I didn't pay her off).

Black Friday was pretty dark. I got up at 4:20, went with my mother to Circuit City, waited in line for 1.5 hours to get a camera (hooray, now my blog can have some visual media), Tom Petty's Greatest Hits, and Office Space. Bummer. I napped then worked again, then hung out with some St. Pats people and learned some interesting things about people I thought I knew well. Saturday I went to some rich kid's house, lost at pool, then had the first Waffle House grease sandwich in about five months.

Today I laid low, packed, memorized a monologue for audition Monday, and then set off on a Megabus journey back to the 773. I had an interesting conversation with Rami and this kid who goes to Vanderbuilt School of Music about bassists throughout history, and then went on my first cab ride ever with two other dudes. Now I'm listening to the Offspring CD I got a week ago.

Oh yeah, I switch phone plans and broke down and got a Razor (I swear, it was the cheapest one available). No longer am I a virgin (mobile); I'm a T (mobile) man now.

Here's to you, old lady at Chesterfield apartments,
Barry

Party on, SOA

Tonight at 9:30, 10:30 Georgia time, I embark for the second time on a 17 hour odyssey to Columbus, Georgia and the School of America's Protest. This week/weekend is the anniversity of the murder of the four Jesuits and their housekeeper in El Salvador (I actually walked the trail the killers took when I visited San Salvador). Many of the murderers were SOA graduates, as was the killer of Oscar Romero and those that massacred the town of El Mozote. Peace in Latin America is something I feel especially connected with since I went down to Guatamala two summers ago.

That aside, the protest is actually a pretty good time. I am hopefully going to meet up with old friends and make some new ones, lots of free love, hoorah. Actually, the hippie ratio at the protest is pretty good, lots of chicks with dreadlocks (ewwww....you get used to it after awhile). I really enjoyed it last year, so we'll see how it goes again. I hope the bus ride isn't too awkward because I don't anyone well that's going down with Loyola. During the trip I hope to knock out a Virtuous Eating term paper, so I got that to look forward to.

Today I also was able to register for classes (ha, all you other freshman can eat your heart out). Right now I'm taking two more theater classes (to be a major is ridiculous, it's like 48 credit hours, one of the most here), another philosophy for that major, a theology because my Virtuous Eating prof is teaching it (it's titled "Jesus Christ," which I'm sure will be pretty good fodder for jokes), and another anthropology cause I wanna minor in that. I decided I'd sign up orchestra, too, though I don't know if I'll stick with it....17 credit hours again. I'm a little pissed because even I wasn't able to get into a langauge 101...I wanted to take Spanish, or Italian, or Chinese, or Arabic, or something. But I got nothing. Story of my life...no, that would be "Play it Off...Cool."

And yes, my Twisted Sister review got top bill in Diversions. Two pats on the back for that.

Georgia (all the time) and Georgia (on my mind),
Barry

PS--in case anybody cares, you can visit www.soaw.org for more SOA info, and perhaps a pic of me if I get really lucky. Now I gotta pack.

Georgia on my mind

I gotta make this quick, cause I think I'm goin to my first college basketball game soon (r a m b l e r s, that spells ramblers. hoorah.).

I finally got done practicumming (ha, I said cumming) on Sunday, on which day I had to wake up at 5:10 because the certain people at work forgot I requested off and scheduled me to open. I was pretty pissed, and I think if they ever have me open again, I might quit right then and there. Mark my words. And then, after working 5.5 hours, I had to run some costumes and then strike, which actually didn't take all that long for Barry, but it still sucked. Overall practicum wasn't too terrible because I got to get to know some others in the department. What can I say, I build bridges. It's what I do.

And now I'm preparing myself for my Georgia SOA protest trip on Thursday (thus the title thusly). It's gonna be good time. Major hippie fest, free love and maybe free illicit substances, who knows. I'll know at least one girl from John Carrol, and a few others that are going from here....17 hours on a bus, hopefully it won't get crazy. And I'll be in a room with around 7 other dudes. Yeah for protests. Boo for Wal-Mart (yeah, I said it. Watcha gonna do? Hire Asians for miserable wages to keep your prices down? Oh wait, you already do that).

Two days later, I leave for the big Toledo. Ohio. Thanksgiving funtimes.

Also, I'm very excited. The Phoenix comes out tomorrow, and hopefully in the front section of diversions will be my masterpiece so far, my review of Twisted Sister's newest album, "A Twisted Christmas." I might repost here in it's entirety if I feel like it. And yes, I got to keep the CD for free. If I'm in a good mood I might let you listen to it.

Wrecking the halls this season,
Barry

Broken Glass Under Nino's Feet

So, today in the mail I got "The Sunny Side of the Moon: The best of Richard Cheese." It's a bunch of lounge versions of songs such as Rape Me, Closer, Gin and Juice, Creep, Baby Got Back, and other hard rock/rap/other stuff. Not gonna lie, this guy is pretty much my hero. If I could ever scrounge up a jazz combo, I would definitely do the same thing, only we would be better. You just watch.

So for the past week and for the next two I'm costuming running for the production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" here, which kinda sucks. It's not really hard, it just takes up huge blocks of my time. We also have a pretty motley crew, if I do not say so myself. There's me, the semi-racist bigot from rural Michigan, a lesbian, a girl from Kentucky, a girl from Africa, another guy who seems too have a little a clue as I do, our fearless leader, Jeff, and three assorted freshman girls who add something but I'm not sure exactly what. It makes for some interesting times, quite a few of them at my expense it seems. Whatevs, at least I'm meeting people in the department, and it's a decently good time, except for when tonight I had to do laundry until 12:30. Such is life. There is free candy involved. And the girl from Kentucky is cute. I can deal.

Waitress, can I get the..
check, mic check, 1...2...
--Barry

Boo

Holla for Halloween.

Not really. I never really like Halloween. Surprising as it is, I am in theater and I don't like getting into costumes. Maybe because I can never really think of anything really original, so I don't even try. I just told people I was a douchebag, which is true the other 364 days of the year, too. I mean, yeah, it's cool that all girls are slutty for that one night, but mostly I just feel awkward.

Saturday mid-afternoon I got suckered into going shopping with these three girls, which was a bad choice, and I'm not gonna make that mistake. Talk about awkward.

I have this problem. Everyone thinks I'm gay. I mean, I am in theater, I don't really do sports, I do put some emphasis on appearance, and one of my good friends that goes here is gay. However, I don't fit quite one criterion; I'm not into guys. I noticed this little curse of mine ever since the beginning of this year, and it has just exploded here. Words cannot describe how much this bugs me. People get all offended at the word "nigger" or when I point out some one is Jewish (go figure), but they somehow think they aren't stereotyping when they automatically think some dude likes the cock. What's even worse is when people think they know me better than myself and tell me I'm just not out yet. I just wanna smack a ho when someone tells me that.

Which brings me back. So I went shopping with these girls, and one was dead convinced I was gay (but she was ugly, and not really worth my time, so I can deal with that). After that weird shopping trip, I came back to the room, drank a cold one with my next-door neighbor, who is probably one of the biggest hedonists I've ever met, and then I went to this Halloween party.

What's even goofier is that the girls I went with shopping wouldn't even really talk to me while at the party, and the one chick I was friends with in the first place (as in, I wouldn't even know the others if it wasn't for her) made out with about eight different guys, and I didn't even talk to her. Whatevs, I still pretty pissed at the world. But, on a brighter note, I did dance with a black chick, so I give myself a pat on the back for that (she wasn't even drunk).

I got back to the room, and I've started to be bothered by something else. I feel unaccomplished, even though I'm only 18. What bugs me is that I say I want to screenwrite or direct, and I really have nothing to show for it. Cobain and Tarantino, two little heros of mine, at least had something by my age, but I don't, except for thirty pages of an unfinished script. Everyone around me's perogitive is to get laid. I want to change the world. It's harder than it looks.

This blog is probably the most depressing one I've wrote, but I guess I need to place to vent, cause no one likes to hear whining.

I Order All My Sandwiches With Mayonnaise

So I just got my copy of Weird Al Yankovic's "Straight Outta Lynwood" today. Not gonna lie, it's pretty awesome. I encourage everyone to give it a look.

Top picks:
"White and Nerdy", parody of "Ridin' Dirty" by Charmillionaire
"Confessions Part III" parody of Parts I and II by Usher
"Don't Download this Song" Style parody of those 80's collaboration for charity

Plus, the polka medley makes me laugh everytime I hear it.

Hooray,
Barry

What I Got You Gotta Give it To Your Mamma

For some reason at work, they think I enjoy working the weekend straight. No joke, the current schedule patterns suggest I work from Friday till Monday I work these long hours, which leaves me little time to get...it...on. It sucks, but I kinda sorta requested off the whole month of November, and I don't know how long I'll stay on past winter break (hopefully not at all).

Anyway, what made tonight a biotch is that I guess some guy got fired and his buddy in retaliation quit. The buddy was supposed to close. I was only supposed to work till ten. I ended up closing. Surprisingly, though, I didn't take a long time, I was only there 15 minutes after. I'm patting myself on the back right now.

On the train ride home, after being offered some weed-filled cigerettes by some brothas, I ran into a girl from Loyola I randomly met a long time ago. She was trying to get one of the stop maps things that tell you where you are going things, I guess. I, having jacked a red line one the night before, helped her get one then I snatched a purple line for myself.

I kinda figured there wouldn't be a whole lot going tonight, considering everything here stops at approx. 11:30. I went up to ma dorm room and here I am. And I have to wake up at 8:45 to freakin go to work. And I just realized I forgot to punch out....whatevs, I got brownie points now for closing when I didn't have to.

Earlier today I wanted to read the current play I am in, and I figured the el would be as good place as my room, so I just took on the train and rode it and read, and somehow I ended up in Chinatown. I decided I'd stop and check things out, having never been in any sort of Chinatown in my life.

It was kinda nice being taller than everybody [rimshot]

Anyway, I think I'll visit again, maybe later tonight, being that it is sunday.

I'll reward you listening to my mundane life by ending it gently.

Boom.
Barry

This comic always bring me joy.

Today was most likely the most extreme Monday of my life. It all started in the wee hours of the morning, when my Anthro teacher e-mailed our midterm, and it was insane. And since he e-mailed it to us, we had as much as time as we needed! Yeah! No, not really. First, I woke up and went to Virtuous Eating. Nothing too exciting. Just eating disorders. Then I studied philosophy, studying which was supplanted by working on the Anthro midterm the night before. Then I went to Philosophy and took the midterm, which actually wasn't too bad. I got done in like 30 minutes, or a half-hour. Then I rushed back, got changed for work, and then went to the Phoenix office to see someone about "improvements" on my CD review (The Kooks, Inside In/Inside Out, worth a look). After about ten minutes of hearing corrections, I said I world ruminate this over at work, which I dashed off to next. Except I was mostly waiting for the el, which wasn't very dashilly. Work was work. At least I got paid and was able to snag a lunch pizza for myself. And I got to try the chicken mole. Not bad. Anyway, I got off around 10:25, worked at my article until midnight, then I wrote the rest of my midterm till 2:16 in the morning. I am sick of writing---why am I writing this? Because it is a story that needs to be told. This might be the most Insanity-filled Monday of my entire life. Luckily it's over now.

Thank God for Tuesday,
Whew. Barry

I Got Way Too Inebriated Last Night

So it snowed Thursday. What the f?

--Barry

As Always, Fighting Injustice in All Forms All Over the Country

Although I should be working on at least one of the two papers due tomorrow, I'm checking some of my not-very-oftenly checked e-mail.

My parents are totally inept. This was made crystal clear to me over the weekend. I guess the internet has not been working since I had left in August, yet they still pay for it. Somehow they thought I would be able to fix it. I guess they're the type of people who just deal with a situation instead of actually calling anybody and fixing it. Gah, it's so freakin annoying.

Anyway, so today I was checking the e-mail I share with my dad (it's bceitel_1999@yahoo.com, to give you an idea of how old it is). He never really checks it, so it's always flooded when I look at it. Some of the random spam is pretty amusing. One sender was apparently the city of Bulgaria, and the subject lines are always sneaky. It's almost disappointing, there aren't any flashing colors or other HTML fun. Spammers these days are getting really lazy.

There was also an e-mail from one a group that has been near and dear to my heart since I've had to research Lobby Groups in AP US Gov: Legalize Ferrets. It's quite a pressing political issue. Apparently, in California it is illegal to own a ferret. And Gov. "girly man" (as called by a ferret advocate) Schwzanagger (sorry, gov'na) recently vetoed a bill legalizing the fuzzy critters. The greatest is that the group has little rallies at hotels and stuff, where I'm sure about four people attend. Maybe one day I'll come out to one.

I decided to snope around the site because I was bored. I visited the kickin' online store, and there I saw it. I spurgled and spent two dollars on a "Legalize Ferrets" button. Unfortunately, I do not know where to put it. Whatev.

I encourage all of you to go to www.legalizeferrets.org and buy some stuff. They got bumper stickers and a t-shirt and---well, that's about it. Plus, all your friends will be like "Legalize Ferrets? How goofy is that?" Then you will be well-liked. At least that is what I am hoping for.

THIS ISN'T A BLOG! IT'S A CALL TO ACTION!
--Barry

Do it! I'm serious. www.legalizeferrets.org I'll gut you.

Heeeeeeeeeere's Barry

Yes, I am quite aware that my titles suck and are decently unoriginal.

This was a pretty intense weekend. I went home for like 3 and a quarter days because of said "Trains, Planes, and Automobiles" incident. But now I am back safe and sound in Chi-town.

It is all fallish in the Northwest Ohio/Southeast Michigan region. It's nice and chilly and the leaves are all a-changin. It's interesting that I could finally see the stars at night. I got pretty nostalgic about high school, so I ended up going with the pretense that I was "getting my yearbook," which I did get. I am all over that mother. Not only am I on the cover, the pages are flooded with my beautiful face. At least now I tell my grandkids, "Believe it or not, your Pappy Barry was a pretty popular kid in high school." And they most likely will not believe it, so I'll whip out my yearbook and show them how wrong they are (little will they know the most likely reason I was in so much was just because I was in with the yearbook staff, muwhahahaha).

The whole weekend I was able to catch up on my college friends. I went down to BG and saw that it's pretty boring in the Arts Village (read: "Gay Village") where my two of my best buds are. Pretty glad I'm in Chicago. And I went over to my other friend who goes to Dayton (which is also on break, unlike every other school in the nation besides mine and BGSU) and smoked a cigar and told college stories.

Somehow I didn't drink at all during this period....

And I went on a huge shopping spree where I bought my whole winter wardrobe. The good thing about going to school far away is that when I go home my parents are basically like "Please talk to us occasionally, here's some money." I'm so evil.

Now my room is a lot more decked out then it was before. I got some bamboo and some more stuff to go on the "Random Crap" section of my wall. It's shaping up pretty well. Maybe someday I'll take pictures.

In the end, I kinda missed home. It's not so bad of a place, besides the fact that there really isn't a whole lot of oppurtunity of any sort. Whatevs, it's a good home base place. When I'm filthy rich, I'll probably own one or two houses out there. Good times.

Hmmm, got 2 work on my Class Cookbook assignment for Virtuous Eating, HA!,
Barry

I wanna throw something

I am writing this from the downtown campus of Loyola at approx. 3:00 Toledo time. By this time I was supposed to be back home, showered, and maybe eating food that I didn't have to pay for. But, alas, that would be too easy.

Lemme tell you about the Megabus. It sucks. I was rudely awokened this morning at 7:50 by Mark calling me and telling me I had to be down at the el and ready to go in 7 minutes. I set my alarm for 7:20, but for some reason or another, fate prevented me from getting up. So I rushed around, got dressed, threw my laptop somewhere, and ran off for the el. We got on at about 8:10, and got off in the loop at about 8:45, then had a frantic run towards Union Station.

We were scheduled to take the Megabus, this large coachbus thing that travels all around the scenic Midwest, at 9:10 from Chicago to Toledo. We got there at 9, and didn't see any buses for Toledo, just Cleveland and Detroit. We wait until 9:15 before calling customer service about where our bus was, and they told us it would arrive in 10 minutes. Cool cool. Twenty minutes later, we call again. "You mean you didn't take the Cleveland bus?" Jokes on us. So we had to wait around 7 hours till the 3:30 bus, and that means I won't get home until 8 PM.

Words cannot describe how pissed off I was. The Megabus people can be expecting an irate letter describing how some guy missed his uncle's funeral and demanding a full refund because it says ABSOLUTELY NOWHERE on the ticket, or print-out, or anywhere on the website, that you have to take the Cleveland bus to get to Toledo.

Besides wanting to be home, though, I guess it wasn't all that bad. We went to see Navy Pier, and let me tell all you budding Chicago tourists out there, it's not much. There is some water, and some crappy touristy restaurants, and a ferris wheel. I have no clue why Navy Pier is so "on the map." Next time you come to Chicago with your maps and floppy hats and sunglasses on a string, take my advice and skip Navy Pier.

Sometime when I am in a less rambling mood I'll tell you about how last night I went to such a fancy restaurant I was charged $25 for water. Later, folks, later.

Muthaf*cking Megabus,
Barry

Calm like a bomb

Since probably my only reader has his panties in a bunch that I share more of my "crazy" and "exciting" life, I decided I would do a little catch-up.

I got a job. It kinda sucks. I make sandwiches at this Panara-like place called Cosi, not to be confused with Cosi....they work me long and hard, for example I worked Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. That blew hard. I'm not really used to the restaurant biz either, yet, and so it's pretty stressful. There were times we were so busy over the weekend I thought I was going to puke (mmmm, appetizing). But I got through it, I'm just gonna have to tell them I need to work less hours, because I'm a crazy college kid.

This weekend was semi-uneventful, I went to a party Saturday night that was out on this multi-level porch thing. Me and a buddy kept going back, getting stuff or eating, and coming back. Not gonna lie, it was a little shady. There was a guy in the backyard in a black hoodie selling beer and other more illecit substances. And then the cops came while weren't there, we came back, there was a big fight (Yea!), the cops came back, Barry left. And in our group was probably the drunkest girl I have seen here. When I was walking her back (what a gentleman I am), she was like doubling over and running into stuff. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. Then we got donuts.

Hey, random discourse. In Toledo there is roughly one Dunkin Donuts. In Chicago, they're on every friggin street corner. I don't even understand why. It's not really that good.

Anyway, I've been pretty busy between work and writing my preview for the Chicago International Film Festival, which was printed Wednesday, albeit less charming and witty than my original, along with shorter. But, alas, today I got my media pass (it has my picture and everything, pretty professional), so I guess it was worth it. I don't know if anybody really wants me to actually review stuff, so I'm just going to go see free movies about gay cops and life in Iceland. Wa. Hoo.

Drama-wise, my work is pushing along. We have these things called "Director [something]" which allows student directors to direct a scene. I didn't try out, since I had to go see "Hedda Gabler" for a class the same night. Not gonna lie, it wasn't too bad. But then a girl I was in "Son at the Front" with facebooked me and asked if I wanted to be in her scene, some Arthur Miller thing. I said, why not? So I got that going for me, but I don't know what I am going to do seriously next.......and all the while I'm trying to finish the rough draft for my screenplay (ask me about it sometime).


AND HOORAH! I go home Saturday till Tuesday, and I get par-tay with some people in BG and see some other people and stuff. Huzzah.

Rockin the suburbs,
Barry

A Deed is Done

Tonight was the opening and closing night of my first college acting experience, "A Son at the Front." It was a staged reading, so I got to have my little book in front of me and talk in a Southern accent. Quite the good times. It actually went relatively well. I mean, world war one, Oklahoma, me as a whipped stepdad, socialists, gay Indians, what's not to love. It's definitely the most serious roll I've played ever, and I got to say "Damned huns" quite a bit.

After the show, there was a little "Come back and talk about the show" with everyone (basically where the writer and composer get to toot their horns about how high-flutin their production was). That was a little weird. To be honest, I thought the actual play was decent, but not amazingly awesome. There were some problems I had: there seemed to be a gay relationship just to have a gay relationship, you never really understand exactly how or why the main dude at the front is feeling about everything because all his talking is done through letters, and the fact it is supposed to be an actual opera kinda blows my mind.

The other weird thing is that the rehersal process was only 6 days. It was kinda weird, because we kinda got to know all the other people, but then *poof* it's over after one performance. Whateva. At least I got my foot in the drama department. And a reason to buy one really sharp looking shirt.

And I found out that a girl I thought was Amish was lying to me the whole time. That was insane.

Bustin up a decent Christmas dinner,
Barry

War....what IS it good for?

No, this is not a political manifesto. Rather, it is a plug for the show I'm in, "Son at the Front." Hey listen to these exciting scene setters: 1917, Oklahoma (yes, there are beautiful mornings), and...gay Indians? Hey, it's a modern piece of drama. Something has to be gay to "give it edginess."

So this is a fun staged reading where we walk around and dramatically read the script. Crazy times. I, the Barry, play Alfred Hill, the son at the front's stepdad (yes, I know for those who have followed my illustrious acting career, this is the third, maybe fourth, father figure I've played. I'm dealing with it).

The craziest thing about this play is that we started rehersals last Friday and it goes on Thursday night. Pretty quick turn-around, I'd say. But it's a good time, and I'm pretty excited. Except now I have to find some slacks to buy. Story of my life.

And I have to wake early tomorrow to try to find some exceedingly hard to find fabric swatches for my "crafts for the stage" (read "sewing") class on Wednesday. I went all the way to friggin Evanston today to find that store only had one of the three samples I needed. And with my ka-razy rehersal schedule this week, it's hard to find any time to go on a Textile Adventure. Oh, in case you were wondering, the fabric I have to find is "wool melton." Hey, it's used to make army coats, in case you are ever on some sort of Domestic Jeopardy.

That made me think "The Wool Meltons" would be a good rock band name, considering the whole miltaristic meaning behind stuff and stuff. Humor me.

Don't make me wool your melton,
Barry

The Barry is Angry

So, my computer crashed Thursday. I don't even know. I came into my room, and it was showing the "blue screen of death" as the techies here lovingly refer to it. So I went down to Resnet and low and behold, the Resnet guy was a guy who I partied with the previous weekend (and who I have now found out is like 30 and a creeeeeeeper). It was just a little awkward. Finally, I got into the main Resnet area and after about a half-hour they started asking me things like "Straight up, did you drop it?" Then they told me it was basically toast.

So then I got back to the dorm and called HP tech support. I was on hold for about 35 minutes jamming out to some interesting muzac, when Raj came to my aid. Somehow, he was able to get me to restart Windows. I don't even know. But I do know I lost all my freakin stuff, including my all-important food journal for my Virtious Eating class. But what's the most disappointing thing of all is that I lost all my music. We're talking like 1333 songs or something. So, to all you people who network through iTunes, I regret to tell you that the Barry Musicporium is going to be down until further notice. sad face.

Glad to get that off my chest. Now I'm going to enjoy my last weekend of summer weather.

Playin with the queen of hearts,
Barry

Listen her, fool

Hey, here's a crazy music update for you. Y'all should look up the band Supersystem. Me and a buddy heard their CD playing at the Virgin Music Store on Michigan Ave, and I immediately went online and bought if off of Amazon (for like 8 bucks cheaper than if I got it at the store, quite frugal, I know). I just freakin got it today, and to be honest, it rocks my socks. I think I may use the track "White Light/White Light" in the new movie I have in production (its in screenwriting stage right now, but just you wait) But that's a little down the road.

I also got the go-ahead to write a mondo article for the Phoenix (our dear little newspaper here at Loyola) about the upcoming Chicago International Film Festival. I'm hoping for some free passes, but we shall see.

Other than that, I hate fire alarms, because I have a feeling that another one is going to go off right.............now, no wait................now. Hey, maybe none will happen now. Thanks, Karma.

Live from ma dorm,
Barry

Hooray for Cold-eeze

Before I thought, I found a Voltaire quote I thought would make this blog look sophifisticated and witty so here it is:

Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd. - Voltaire

Ohh, yes. Ohh. Yes.

Not gonna lie, today was a pretty happy day for me. Except for the fact I was sick all day, and now not very fun stuff is coming out of my nose. TMI--I don't care, it's my freakin blog. But I thought I might throw up all day, but it's not like I'm nauseus, it's almost like I'm going to cough so hard I'll throw up. Hey, man, I've done it before.

Enough about my bodily functions. Do you know why today is a pretty good day? Two reasons: One, I got casted in the Staged Readings. I'm playing the part of Alfred, which I think is a smaller part (I have the script, I just haven't read it yet) but whateva. At least I broke in to the Loyola Theatre (oh, yes, the other way to spell Theater) without having to give out too many blowjobs.......

The other reason today was good was because I nailed (nailed) a job in Evanston. I'll be some guy who makes sandwiches at Cosi (you should come and visit. Chances are I'll never know you were there, but you can tell me about it later. Or you could take the easy route and lie)....

So even though my immune system is in the toilet, my self-esteem is not.

Barry. Out.

An Observation

I realized the other day that I suck at talking. I mean not in the sense I'm retarded, but when I'm talking to other people in passing, I somehow am able to screw up talking. Example: I'm walking around campus, and a cute chick I met earlier walks pass and says "What's up?" and I say "Nice." WTF. I think there has to be a short-circuit between my brain my mouth.

The same thing happens on the phone. I don't think you can get the full "Barry" effect while talking to me on the phone, because I very well might

I HATE FREAKIN FIRE ALARMS....this may seem a little random, but just as I started to get into my main discourse, the fire alarm went off (I have heard rumors it had to do with some hanky panky with a hot pocket). I was fully ready just to stay in my room until it was over. However, I was listening through my door and I heard that they going to check every room. So I grabbed my stuff and left. This will make the second fire alarm tonight and the tenth one so far. What a joke. I think I may set someone on fire in my anger.

anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, how I can't talk on the phone, because I don't have a good response mechanism, as in you'll say "Have a good night" and I'll say "Nothing much."

And now I have a cold, which I think is directly link to the fact I was out on a pier in Lake Michigan at 4 in the morning. Then it started pouring. I guess I did jump in some puddles, too, though. Whatev. I'm going to eat a pretzel. And set my bed on fire in protest.

Man is a product of his experiences (Thanks, Ronnie),
Barry