The · Misdirection · Of · A · Literary · Illusionist

I went through a good portion of my past writings today, really looking back on what I've written. I found things I'd completely forgotten about, some on purpose and some just out of neglect. I've been thinking a lot the past few days about how I want my life to go, and what I want it to be about. What I want to do with it. Things that no kid should think about, really.

But within all of these writings of mine, I found what had once started as a diary of mine. It was meant to be this big thing, where I wrote daily about the writing and directing of my first film, with pieces of my life added in to show what I'm about. I had started to write it a week before I moved down to Ottawa, so the first little bit was mostly about how excited I was to be living on my own, what movies I watched (since before I moved, that's all I did...and, since I moved, that's all I do), and what I tried to write but never accomplished. If you took away the excitement of moving, you'd really think I'm writing it now.

But as I read through everything I've done, I realized that I really haven't finished much. Lots of starts, but not too many things are finished. Plus I haven't edited anything really. The one time I tried I felt like scrapping the whole idea and tearing it up. That was the thing I called the best stuff I've ever written.

Which begs the question: do I like anything I've written? The answer is yes, but only one thing. And that idea I won't touch for years. Not because it's so good or anything, just that I've worked on that and only that for so long it's ridiculous. I love a lot of my ideas, but I just don't know how to pull them off. Or the ideas are just ideas, and can't be anything else.

What is an idea? Is it anything that comes from the mind? Is it life itself? Or is life an idea as well? What constitutes an idea, and what must come from it? I guess these are the questions I should be asking, before I try and give any sort of answer.

Haven't written since Friday (thankfully), so I thought I finally would. Not really going to go into the specifics of life lately, since I'm sure I induced those of you kind enough to read my week to tears. It's mostly been a movie time.

Watched Natural Born Killers for the first time all the way through. Never saw it all from beginning to end until I believe it was Saturday. At first I was insanely angry. The movie got me pissed off beyond words could describe. I don't know what it was, but I was in a terrifyingly bad mood afterwards. But for some reason, even the day afterwards, I couldn't take my mind off of it. Something about it made me keep thinking. So Monday night I bought it on DVD and watched it again, and actually enjoyed it. It's definitely a great movie, just that the characters and what they stood for really got me going. I know, I know, it's just a movie...

Today Grindhouse--oh, how silly of me-- Grindhouse Presents Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof" came out. For one reason or another, they're releasing the double feature movies separately, which only means they'll do this and later on release another disc of just the movie. Since Grindhouse didn't do that well, it calls to question why they'd do that instead of just releasing a three-disc set of the theatrical version and then the two extended versions of each one on the other two, but hey, that's me. Money, I guess. Since it's DVD, it'll do insanely well I'm sure. But yes, Death Proof is out, and I bought it pretty much as I was waking up. I've got nothing better to do, why not, right? There's a half hour extra on here, which to others, a half hour that shouldn't be there since it's all dialogue and not apart of the car chase. But I enjoyed it, it helps make it a complete experience. Can't wait for the "Planet Terror" DVD in October.

I also checked out Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse, which is a full-length documentary on the making of Apocalypose Now made by Francis Ford Coppola's wife, Elanor. Was insanely interesting, crazy how it really brought him through Hell and back. And he made one of the best films of all time from that horrific experience.

You know how I change my mind every five minutes about what I'm writing? Well, it happened again. Except now I found something I've already got a ton of material for, so I'm basically already on my way. I've got close to three pages of just notes and ideas, and I learned a lot from Natural Born Killers for the story I want to tell. To throw it all in perspective, I'm going to be writing a horror film. But not just some Saw, Hostel, Texas Chainsaw type of run-of-the-mill, throw-a-rock-and-hit-it type of horror film. This one's got a twist, one I'm holding close to the vest and am really looking forward to testing out. It's by far going to the darkest thing I've ever written, and I'm certain if anyone read it, they'd be so angry about it they'd...well, they'd be pretty damn angry. But that's how it's going to be, and it's going to be a lot of fun to write. I'm not going to mention it as I write it so I keep myself interested and not just talk myself to sleep with the idea. So there you have it.

That's all here. Pretty movie-oriented time. Also thinking lots about directing. But that one's staying mum.

Last of the narrations. Been a long week, that's for sure. I'm not even going to include tonight, since it's fairly obvious that I'm going to just sit back and veg out. And that's not exactly exciting.

Started the morning at 10 a.m., a respectable time since I went to bed at 12:30. Pretty good sleep. Went on the net for half an hour to wake myself up, grabbed a shower and cleaned myself up, and waddled off to class at 11:30. Listened to a lecture for an hour, mostly about what the budgets were back in the 1930's. It's ridiculous: a big budget back 70 years ago was $1 million, and Gone With the Wind's, which was over $2 million, was thought of as crazy. A movie like that nowadays can go from upwards of $120-140 million. It's maddening.

Cashed the bookstore cheque, and then got a form signed I had promised myself I would a week ago. Went to the store on the way home. Traded in two games across the road at Blockbuster so I can buy Death Proof for free on Tuesday. Watched some more Robot Chicken.

Thought I'd buy a pizza, so I ordered out to Milano's. By the time it got here, I didn't feel anywhere near hungry, so I have an XL pizza just sitting in my fridge at the moment. I'll get around to it, since it'll last me somewhere around two days.

That's really pretty much my day. I was out for most of the day, and yet did little to nothing. I'm closing today off with Kill Bill, something I've been saying I'd watch for the past several days and still haven't. It's about time I did. Maybe I'll crack out the pizza then. For now, I feel like taking a nap.

So concludes my week in a bubble.

Thought I'd narrate the rest of the week out, since that's what I've been doing basically. This means that tomorrow will be the last time, in terms of narrating, for a while. So enjoy!

Woke up to a screaming alarm at 7 a.m., literally jumping to my feet and running to turn the alarm off. Kind of weird, how fast I was up and about. So I made sure to knock myself out more, by going on the computer for half an hour. This was accompanied by Toaster Strudels, which I enjoyed thoroughly. 7:30 a.m. hits, where I go grab a shower. Fixing myself up and everything, I check to see if I'd gotten an e-mail back from Haven Books yet. Nothing. Got distracted, and before I knew it, it was 8:15. Class starts at 8:30, and I have to trek twenty minutes, then across the entire campus. Easily a hour-hour job, so I groan and throw on the shoes, leave, run back in, grab my schoolbag, and burst off to the elevator. Which takes its time, of course.

Get to class in record time: fifteen minutes. That's half of what I usually make it in, and I walked basically the same speed I usually do, which likely worries some since it's pretty fast. Not even sweaty, which is another first. Something is up...

I sit back, listen in on a lecture that's EXACTLY the same as last week, I suppose since half the class had shown last week for the lecture. Watch The Adventures of Robin Hood. Pretty good movie, I was really impressed when the music started to swell and it started to fade away, but then realized that it had only been HALF of the movie. Still another hour to go. The second half is taking too long, and since I got in late, I have to sit in the front, where my eyes start to burn. I notice there's a bent plastic sword that Robin Hood is holding. Literally a ninety-degree bend. Finally the movie ends, and I rush into the bookstore to buy The Cantebury Tales. "Sorry, just sold the last one," says the retail person, and I grumble off back to my apartment.

Make it back to the apartment, sitting down with a sigh and watch some more Robot Chicken. Watched a sketch that is hands-down the funniest thing I've seen in months. It's a parody of Sex and the City, except it's Golden Girls and the City. Completely hilarious, and the end to the sketch didn't make me laugh...it made my mouth open wide in shock. Couldn't believe how they could do that. In the good way, of course.

Grab another shower and go on a trek again. Take the O-Train, which is heavily guarded by police and OC Transpo people for some reason, and land in South Keys. Make my way to Harvey's, getting a Bacon Double Cheeseburger combo, where I swap fries for a poutine. The poutine is amazing, as usual, but as soon as I unwrap the burger, my stomach utters in protest: this is a MONSTER burger. Not even Jesus himself could eat it, before or after the poutine. But I soldier on. Get down to the last bite, which I drop back onto the wrapping. Could never eat that last bite. Feeling as though the whole weight loss thing had just been destroyed, because after that I must be back up to my starting weight, I waddle back to the O-Train.

Not feeling too well...but I must get the cheque at Haven Books. I want money that I don't intend on spending! I somehow make it without throwing up, get the cheque, and on the way back to Carleton, make a pact with myself that I'm heading straight home. Screw Brit. Lit. Good course, but I really am not feeling that hot.

On the walk home, I find two things very alarming. A group of four "emo" kids, as they're known, walked past me decked out in their cool "threads". Best part? One of them said as I passed by, "you know what? Nothing rocks anymore..." I nearly died, until not a moment later, I pass by a bench where two enamored men hand each other roses with lusty eyes, which I found pretty neat.

Back home now, glad that I'm back early. I'm dying right now, and I don't think my heart is beating, no joke. Can't feel it. I think I'm going to top the night off with the Kill Bill double bill (me watching both in a row). I deserve it, after the odd day I've had.

This retelling is of Tuesday evening and Wednesday, the 11th and 12th of September.

Tuesday evening began after supper basically, where I spent time finally answering messages that had been backed up for a while now. I mentioned this earlier this week, and finally did it. Afterwards, I watched a documentary on Quentin Tarantino, which was amazing. Is it weird that I find far too many similarities between myself and filmmakers? Quentin, and Robert Rodriguez as well, are two I share far too many qualities with. Robert, in his book, mentioned that he needs a fan going in order to sleep; as do I. That's just the beginning to a laundry list of things in common. The documentary (about Quentin) was more of a very long interview, where he talked about the process of writing, and so on. Very cool stuff.

I ended the night with some Okami, which was a short period of time because it's so confusing where to go in that game. So by midnight, I was off to bed.

Woke up at 8:54 a.m. I know this because I rushed to my feet. The power was going to be out from 9-3, due to maintenance. Realizing that I was very unprepared with things to do, and not having a shower at the ready in order to be able to go out, I watched as all power shut down in my apartment. I was stuck for six hours with my own imagination to keep me busy. And since I was kind of disappointed and grumpy over not waking up sooner, I had no imagination to work with. My laptop is ridiculous when it comes to battery life, so I had an hour and a half tops to work with. So I alternated for six hours in reading The Chronicles of Narnia (the anthology version) and going on the laptop without the internet.

While on the laptop, I worked on the outline for my "detective" movie, pretty happy with the stuff I've been throwing out into it. To fill in the confused, the movie is a "remake" of sorts of something I have in essence already written. I wrote it in a screenplay called Epic, where it was five different stories that all had the same theme. But the detective story is such a cool idea, I thought I'd rip it out and actually make a full-length version of it. Same with another story in the movie, that could be considered its predecessor, or sequel. It is about a detective who goes on a hunt for serial killers that had never been brought to justice through incriminating evidence, but it's obvious it was them. Made in exploitation fashion, with lots of extreme sex and violence. Doesn't sound like something I'd do, and that's why I want to do it.

But, like I said, the laptop only runs for so long. It dies, of course, and I still have a good three hours to waste. Could really go for a Nintendo DS right now... So I take to looking out the window(s). There's only so much I can see, except for a great view of Experimental Farm, and off in the distance, lots of mountains. And other apartments, but that view isn't any good except at night when you can see in. Seen some funny stuff in my time looking out the window at night. Some stuff good, some stuff I wish I hadn't seen.

I can start to feel my eye twitch, because I'm an electricity man. Without it, I have no life...more than not having a life in the first place. No computer, no movies and no video games. It's Hell. I lie on the bed for countless minutes, continuously checking my cell phone for the time.

2:54 p.m., power's back. I can tell since I nearly had a heart attack when the pipes made horrendous noises of coming back to life. Plus my microwave beeped in anger. I hop in the shower, glad that electricity still exists, and then run out, grabbing as much McDonalds as I can. I never ate all of yesterday (for my own reasons) or today (due to not being able to cook), you can't blame me. Watched more of The Office, and finally got back on the internet, one of my favourite second homes in the world.

Tomorrow is an early rise, due to The Film Industry. Got to get the Brit. Lit. book tomorrow. Probably won't have any good stories about tomorrow, it will likely be fairly straightforward.

To continue narrating my life, I shall narrate today's events. Started it off at 9:30 a.m., finding my ankle to be in pristine condition, in terms of being able to actually use it. Still is tender, but at least I can put pressure on it. No more hopping, sadly. Got a few bucks put in the bank, went and bought some Diet Pepsi at Shopper's Drug Mart across the road. Surprisingly, it's cheaper there than anywhere else I've seen.

Watched a lot of Robot Chicken: Season Two online. The thing that cracked me up the most was the Final Fantasy VII parody, best thing I've seen in the longest time. Then checked out the episode "Make Love, Not Warcraft" of South Park. Another genius time. Checked out the release dates for some upcoming movies on DVD, pretty happy overall. But I'll also be pretty broke all fall. Death Proof comes out next Tuesday, the second half of Grindhouse. Pretty excited for that. November 6th, there's a "Whole Bloody Affair" version of Kill Bill coming, a four-disc extravaganza with the movie being nearly five hours long and packed with extras. Crazy.

Feeling pretty "exploitative", I wrote an outline for a full-length version of the detective story that had been in my screenplay "Epic". Made a note to add a lot of extreme violence, some colorful dialogue, and the works. I based that whole segment of "Epic" on Sin City, and I'm taking some parts out of another movie I wrote, so it should be fairly interesting.

And I found out I'm richer than I think. Turns out 4/6 of my books have sold at Haven Books, and $32 is waiting for me. Just in time too, since I had planned on heading over tomorrow for one of my English books. Don't have to pay for that one though, I got a $5 off card last time I was there, and luckily, the book is $4. Can't beat that.

So for a day where I've done literally nothing, it's turned out pretty well. Tomorrow, the apartment's going to have all power shut off, so I think I'll be heading out fairly early and get some things done: visit Haven Books, have some Harvey's, get a government thing signed at Carleton, and party away.

That's all, folks.

I had something up not too long ago, but decided to take it down in favor of this. Kind of boring, I'd imagine, to pretty much gush about writing something that's really more for me than for others. So I thought I'd torture you all more by discussing recent events, in only a way that I and many others could probably do it.

I went home (ie. Renfrew) for a few days, from Friday evening until Monday morning. Bought The Office: Season Three and Fargo on the way out of Ottawa in order to entertain myself in the more boring points of the weekend (Sunday). Friday evening I spent hanging out with the one known as Bruce, my papa. He's a good guy, has the same sense of humor as me, so we crack off some jokes and watch some random shows that have absolutely nothing to do with anything. I should mention, by same sense of humor, I mean dirty jokes and very strange too-far kind of jokes that aren't dirty, but are just plain messed up. I can say when mom's playing Pinball on the computer, "mom's sure smacking that ball with the paddles hard tonight", and he'd laugh, or merely shake his head in disappointment, but deep down, he's proud that I said it. We watch Jerry Springer, not only to laugh at other's misfortunes, but to make ourselves feel better for our lives. At least we're not sleeping with each other's sister's cow, or cows, and we don't have a BEEF. See what I did there? Oh, and we've become all-encompassed in the daytime soap Passions, because it truly is the wildest and most daring show to ever enter the television era. When you clearly have the writers from each day not talking and it shows in not only the continuity, but overall story, you can't help but like it. Plus for some reason there's a floating head of a Renaissance man lately. So yeah, we have lots to joke about.

Saturday started out kind of slow, but picked up as I watched The Office and then went out with Caitlin for the evening. Good times. Went to Live Free or Die Hard, talked lots, had a great time. Then I watched The Office with mom when I got back. It's good that I spend time with her, but I'll admit it, not a fan of watching things with my mom. She's smart, but I don't think she pays attention when watching things. I find myself having to explain. Definitely chose the wrong career path when my mom needs explaining and my dad's a big fan of exploitation movies. I can appease my dad a bit, because I plan on making some exploitation movies in my time, but otherwise, not too sure.

Sunday was dead slow. Beat Bioshock, which, not for nothing, ended kind of weird and far too fast. It's a decently long game, but the climax was insanely short. Watched some more of The Office. Wrote a bit. That's really all that happened.

Monday was a very strange day. Started off in a rush, since I had four hours before class began when I woke up, and I had to pack up and leave in time, with an hour drive also added to it. Got back down here, tossed my stuff on the floor, said goodbye to the parents (who were grumpy), jumped in the shower, and bolted across the road for a cheeseburger (that's right, a measly cheeseburger) at McDonald's for lunch. Just because I'm losing weight doesn't mean I can't eat a paper thin burger. After finishing it, I start to cross the connecting bridge across the Rideau Canal to get to the path to walk to Carleton. Except something goes off that wasn't at all to plan. I missed the last step, the last step of two I should add, landed on that step with my ankle in the most awkward fall of all time, and then landed on my knees. This is surrounded by a decently filled park, with lots of walkers, bikers, and picnic types, who all look to me as I scream the most obscene profanity at my recollection. I earned that word in my blunder, so damn it, I'll go on and say it. Slowly but surely, I manage to stand back up, then collapsing on the grass next to the bridge to survey the damage. Doesn't exactly hurt, but something is up. For better or for worse, I'm late as it is. I've got twenty minutes to get to class in a walk that usually takes twenty-five.

I get to class, and sit in on a decent class, that sounds cool, but really is like garbage. When the class advertises that we should write 12-15 page essays, and that there's two of them, my mind kind of shuts off. Those put together can actually become a fraction of a novel. That's just disgusting. The class ends, thankfully, after constant staring of several people in the class (I should note this. Is there something wrong with me that I don't know about? A lot of people stare at me. Like they expect me to do something interesting, and they're just waiting to be the one to say they saw first). But when I stand up, everything comes crumbling down. The inability to use my destroyed ankle has since doubled into some of the most extreme pain I've felt since I broke my nose its seven times. I limped, and I limped like mad, around the campus. Decent profanity words of various choices were added into the foray. And class ended early, so I have two hours to waste. I check out the nearest bench, where people then commence giving me dirty looks, like I'm watching them in some sort of study. Not really, just seeing if I know you for a second or so. Down the Diet Pepsi at my disposal, and then make my way to the next class, where I sit in the hallway for around 45 minutes, not realizing the whole while I could have gone inside. Sit down, wait for class, and then am given an immense headache as our teacher throws down theory and different myth and legend throwbacks that just boggle the mind. This is also in a class I don't exactly respect, I should add, since I'm not a fan of Canadian literature. Nothing against any Canadian writers, just haven't read something worth fighting for from here. So, after three hours of intense lecturing on the strangest and most tangentially subjects known to literature, I realize I have a long journey on my hands: walking home on this awful ankle.

Long story short, it wasn't very fun, and people gave me odd looks as they passed me, since I walked at the speed of as though I had just come out of the shower in prison. Except I don't think they limp, more just an analogy in terms of speed. After passing at turtle speed what was clearly a gang in the dark park, I get into my apartment, and now hop to wherever I want to go in here. It's not as bad as it was earlier, but it's still there.

And this concludes Friday to Monday.

Just got back from class, an hour earlier no less. Something about since it's a three hour class, he won't give us a ten-to-fifteen minute break and will instead let us out earlier. Go team.

So, what are my thoughts on second year? Based on solely one day of three I will be having? It's going to be just like last year, except I can't make fun of it all with someone this time.

I spent the night beforehand with watching a movie I haven't exactly seen, but have seen for the most part. I saw the beginning, the middle and the end, but nothing else pretty much. This movie is known as The Big Lebowski. Genius movie, totally brilliant. The words "shut the fuck up, Donny!" got more hysterical as the movie went on. It inspired me, and it really has risen me into a new stance for a while.

Started the day at 7 a.m., which, if I hadn't had to program my clock when I plugged it in, I wouldn't know existed. This after a night where I spent until 11:30 playing Guitar Hero on Hard, and so I was all psyched up about trying to get a good score, which got me nervous and thinking hard. Turns out, doing that before you sleep isn't a good idea. The whole time I had my eyes closed, I kept seeing the various colors, and it got me all aggravated because I'd start feeling antsy. So, once 2 a.m. hit, I finally fell asleep.

Not too many know this, but I have a strange system in which I sleep. I need a fan going on its top speed to make me fall asleep. White noise, if you will. Not to be racist. But since it's summer and I don't have an air conditioner, which of course makes an already sweaty from blinking person even more sweaty, I got a second fan. So last night, for some reason, I got cold somehow, and from that I went into a very bizarre dream that had me arguing with no one in particular about nothing at all. For the sake of arguing. To which I wake up at 4 a.m., groggy and needing to pee. So, by 4:30 I finally get back to sleep. Woken to the sounds of one of the worst sounds imaginable. You all know what I'm talking about. So I turn the alarm off, my eyelids glued shut from puffiness.

I'll put the day in perspective first. I had two three-hour classes, separated by six hours. And since I walk twenty-five minutes or so to get to class from my apartment and through campus, we're looking at nearly two hours of solid walking today. I sweat quite a bit, and since I'm actually human, no one should look down on me for it. But even I was disgusted with myself today, it was inhuman to say the least. Thankfully, it was only the two times walking home that were the bad times.

So, onto the classes. The Film Industry seems promising. We watched a movie called China Seas with Clark Gable, truly an old school movie. Even had some funnies. I slightly cringed at the insert shots that were clearly done quite some time later and in a different place (refer to the joke of inserting Fallout Boy in the Radioactive Man movie in the Simpsons). But overall, a good time. I even talked to someone who had been in my previous film studies class who I hadn't really talked to before, which was nice.

I then had a six hour gap to fill. An hour of that is walking home, and then walking back, so technically five. I spent one of those hours wishing I had another's stomach, as mine truly didn't like mine for a while. I watched The Departed, fooled around on here, and listened to some music. Truly nothing spectacular.

Then came British Literature, the class I kind of was going to dig the most. The one where I could probably fit in a bit more, since I kind of know my stuff and people in English classes are generally a nicer bunch (no offense to others), friendly-wise. Totally not the case. The teacher's a good guy and all, but the people were kind of cold. I did have a girl continuously glare at me, no idea what that was about since I wasn't wearing an eyepatch (or was I...?), so who knows. Overall, kind of boring and useless.

Now I'm back in my apartment, sore and ready to go back to Renfrew. But, alas, I have to run back in tomorrow for AN HOUR. Complete waste... But then I'm going home! To hang out with Caitlin, buy The Big Lebowski, and disappear for a day or two before plunging into the other classes.

What would I give today? It was going in, pre-home, at an 8 (8/10 if it had only been film), but then English bombed. So I'm going to give today a 6.5/10. Decent score, most of which is because of The Film Industry. That's really all I feel like saying, because today has been far too long, just like the lines trying to get into Carleton with the picketing going on.

Yep, I'm entering preschool. No, actually, I'm commenting on school before it actually starts. I've been unfair to Carleton University for the most part, looking down on its stupidity and shaking my finger in its face. It was wrong of me, and I wish to apologize. I mean, it IS my central base of operations, after all. I need to pass through most of it to get to the O-Train, and that's saying something.

But this isn't about my tiff with the university itself. This is about classes, and class predictions. I'm unprepared once again heading in. This time it's a different unprepared, because I've got everything else covered. I'm checking where my classes are today, so then I'm not completely useless tomorrow at 8 am. More than I will be that early, at least. But once again, I've spent most of my money, and I need books. A lot of them, since my major is now English. Three classes of ten books each, to be exact. I don't believe The Film Industry has a book, but I'll give it the benefit of the doubt and say it likely will, to take more of my dollar.

One very cool thing is the class "Myth and Symbol". How come? Well, it deals with...you guessed it, myth and symbol. It will highly benefit me in my writing endeavors, to toss in an archetype of sorts to help relate my story to all great stories told throughout history. Another cool part is that we get to read Harry Potter in the class. How strange/awesome is that? The Half-Blood Prince, no less. That one is likely my favourite of the series, because it actually brought an emotion out of me: anger. Not at the book itself, but the situation. Which is good.

The Film Industry looks to be one I look forward to the most. Not so much this semester, but the winter semester. High-concept movies and blockbusters is the main attraction of that semester, which means the biggies like Star Wars, Jaws, Jurassic Park and so on will be looked over, and how they have shaped the film industry as we know it. Given I'm nerdy, I'm pretty excited, since I know pretty much all there is about those movies, having watched them ridiculous amounts.

British Literature is, oddly enough, another class I'm really happy about. Shakespeare's King Lear tops the list I'd say, but we also get to read Cantebury Tales, Gulliver's Travels, and even some Alexander Pope. Hint: Pope is the reason one of my favourite movies of all time exists, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Canadian Literature, though, not so much. I heard of one of the writers, and that writer I don't really like. So that one is a bummer, and sadly is mandatory. Who knows though, maybe it will be actually good. I won't hold my breath, but you never know.

As for predictions, I don't really have any. I guess actually let my presence be known for the most part, so that I'm not just a blur that travels from class to class and then back to my apartment. I'm also going to check the city out more for once, see what else there is apart from my area and South Keys. Lose some more weight.

That's really about it. Class starts tomorrow, and it all starts with a movie. How fitting. It'll be an older movies, since it's 1930's to the late 1960's, but who's complaining. I'm getting a grade over watching a movie and analyzing it. I did complain last year, but that was because the last half was purely just Canadian cinema, which, I'll admit, I do not respect. I mean, there is a movie or two I do enjoy, but not the ones we watched. Except Barbarian Invasions, that was a great movie. The class started great, and then ended with an implosion rather than an explosion.

Impressions on The Film Industry and British Literature shall follow tomorrow, also with possibly the news I have.

After somewhat of a strange bump that had nothing to do with anything, I'm back on the fast track. I had an odd two days, feeling kind of down about nothing in particular, and really not liking much the whole time, but then I was brought back to positivity with several things.

School, for me at least, starts on Thursday. I don't know whether or not to be ready or excited for it, or even if I'm ready to go back yet, but I'll take it one step at a time. Today I plan on closing up some things, and then tomorrow I'm taking a walk around campus to check where all my classes are. I might have a class at 8:30 in the morning, and I rather know beforehand where that is, since I'll be zombie-like when looking for it Thursday morning. But that's my only morning class, so who's complaining? Well, I am, since that means a 7 am wake-up call, but oh well.

I didn't make it into the writing workshop. I'll blame myself for it this time and not push the blame. The short story was good, but the pieces of screenplays I included was, well, weak. Unedited pieces of my comedy, and a very random piece of the screenplay I wrote, Epic. The random piece could not be taken for anything just by itself, so it fell flat. I'm fine with not having the class. It would have forced me to write instead of want me to write. I'll try again next year, since next year looks easier, but this year seems balanced as is.

I worked out a great idea for my science fiction movie(s). It's funny when things fit in place. The whole thing is now kind of thrilling from the moment "go", as it's a chase between the good and the bad all while the fantastical battles and character pieces fly by at breakneck speed. It still needs a lot of work, and I need to make the character's backgrounds become important to the overall story (which has shifted into some areas I've never tried before), but it's shaping into a good time.

I've also stuck to a new plan, back in reality. It's working, too, which is nice. I'm no longer eating fast food!...except once a week. That's right, only once a week from here on out. People will probably cock an eyebrow at this one, but hey, I like eating. And it's showing. I've been on this sort of idea now for about two weeks now, and I honestly have shrunk a little. I actually feel like I'm not one burger shy of keeling over anymore. I have energy, which is a first since maybe grade nine. I'm not big by any stretch of the imagination, but I was heading for it. Plus, once a week is still pretty good. Restaurant visits or pizzas do not count towards the week, which haven't happened for months anyway. Fast food includes McDonalds, Burger King, Harvey's type areas.

So there's my life, kind of, in an outline. There's FAR more, but I won't jump the gun on speaking of it just yet. Maybe next time, when I have more to add to it. And it's actually something interesting, not just the usual mumbo jumbo. Madness!

It basically just turned midnight (as I write this part), so I thought I'd celebrate something that hit just today, on September 1st. Today is the beginning of my second year living in Ottawa in my apartment. Or the one-year anniversary, to make it sound less significant, integer-wise. It's been a year since I moved in.

How that time, how it flies. It feels like maybe four months since I moved down here...and maybe six months since I left high school. But nope, it's been a year and a half since high school, and a year since I moved to Ottawa.

I thought I'd share some fun stories of my first year in the city all by myself. They are few and far between since I haven't met too, too many people down here just yet, but everything that is coming up (except many one or two things) all happened on my adventures to and from South Keys. What better time to mention when a year later?

The first thing I have to mention is my realization that the O-Train can take me right to a theatre. That is literally the highlight of my life, as sad as it may sound. But hey, I like movies, so screw you. Plus it takes me to Wal-Mart, Future Shop, Chapters, Microplay, Harvey's, another Blockbuster (so really, I have the one across the road AND that one), and so on. I still remember the first movie I went to see at this mystical theatre: The Departed. The experience was pretty damn cool, as the screens are pretty damn great and...well, some of the twelve have shitty sound, but the (and this is how many times I've been showing here) theatres #1 and #2 have true surround. I went through some good movies the past year there. The Departed, 300, Grindhouse, Knocked Up, Pirates of the Caribbean 3, Live Free or Die Hard, Transformers, Superbad, and so on. Most of those were multiple times. I had some good times in that theatre, and many more to come I imagine.

Some other good times came from looking out my own window. From watching the building across from me burning pretty wildly and watching the "fire squad" take it out, to madmen firing the missile fireworks at cars in a parking lot, to a blimp try and land on a building with a cell phone tower on it...it's been a hectic time here. Not to mention apparently a cop tried to chase down a lady and her dog attacked him and he had to shoot it. I never saw it, but it was right at the walkway I always cross the road over.

Then there's Carleton. I've had some good times I won't exactly speak freely about with a few people I've met (that sounds more "intimate" than any of it really is, and some possibly incriminating), and then one rainy morning I watched a motorcycle slide back at breakneck speed on its side, sparks flying as it continued on, and a moment later came a police officer skidding across the road somehow at a super fast speed, hitting the curb and messing his legs up. THAT is how you start your morning, seeing something like that. I was never so jazzed in the morning before, I was so pumped up from such an exciting wake-up call to a boring and wet walk.

I also had some good times on the O-Train, and even when waiting for it. A crazy lady arguing that the O-Train time was wrong and that I was an idiot. A man lying down in front of the tracks for no apparent reason and the camera capturing it all, giving him a lifetime ban according to the conductor. Running into Tanya Riopelle randomly several times. A lot's happened on and around that mode of transportation I ever so love. Best ticket I never bought.

As you can see, even without really knowing anyone, I somehow found the time to have some intriguing times. I thought I was going to get mugged at one point (I pretty much was going to get mugged, it was almost inevitable given the time and the amount coming at me), I once swore I saw famous director Paul Haggis entering Future Shop and cruising the DVD aisle, I had people trying to break into my place while I was in here with the lights off (a kick to my door scared them off), I had someone successfully break in under false pretenses, I tried to get into the frosh week concert Sam Fisher-style to which I was given the "Keep walking..." reply, and I even drunkenly tried to open another apartment's door on the twelfth floor, and, to my embarrassment, was caught by the person living there. I was convinced it was mine, but then noticed it said 12 at the start instead of 15. So I mumbled an apology and stumbled back to the elevator, pressing the up button as quickly as possible.

I even permanently adopted a beard instead of going through phases. Had one since April and still going! I went through workout phases, all of which lasted three days tops before I wound up back at McDonalds "as one last time". Now I'm actually on somewhat of a diet to lose a few pounds so my heart doesn't feel like it's ready to explode when I go grab a drink ten feet away. Down to fast food once a week instead of three to four times a week. It's been working the past three weeks, so who knows, I might be safe. I'd like to live to at least 30.

So how am I bringing in the start of a second year? Seeing a movie and having some fast food, of course. A Harvey's poutine, no less. Surprising that it's the start of a second year of school and living on my own. Been a lot of pizza and soup consumed, that's for sure. Been a lot of stir-crazy, "I need to get out and do something" times. Been a lot of hours consumed of just wishing I had something to do. And yet here I sit, glad it's all happened, because hey, I have some good stories even when alone 99% of my time. There's a reason I coined "Kevin Lever Moments"; they happen to me, and me alone. Here's to another year of them in our nation's capital.

Disclaimer: Nothing about Bioshock in this post. Except now. It's an insanely good game, and I like the saying "Welcome to Rapture" in fancy calligraphy writing all over the place in the game, so I thought I'd use it.

It's been a solid week since I last left my presence be known, in the form of a survey/questionnaire. I really didn't even come on here, and there's a lot I need to answer back and explain myself for, but all in due time. I have a week before school, so that should be enough time.

I locked myself up while I was home pretty much, confined to the things I love so that I could cocoon myself and hibernate before the big plunge known as hell/school. I like to call it the first thing; others, the latter. I have a love/hate relationship with school in its various forms, and most of that hate lies in the strange rules.

People (not myself, but I very well could be) pay thousands of dollars toward a post-secondary education of some sort, and yet it's all constricted down to a very rigid and very "boring" guideline in which you must fulfill. Like many, I'm sure there are countless other classes we would like to be taking rather than just the mandatory. My major has significant openness to the electives, whereas I have talked to others where the program is so flat and bland that it leaves little to the imagination. They are forced to take what the guideline tells them to, and they can very well hate one piece of that guideline. Paying thousands of dollars to hate something.

All for the good of the future, they say. I suppose it could be viewed as the opener to disappointment in life, letting the idea sink in for the first time, to get ready for that bright and pleasant future everyone dreams for. Or not at all, in some cases.

Many careers bank on the very being of certain degrees or programs that people work towards. Yet some are able to bounce over it all, hailed as a "one-timer", someone who cracks the code and hops over the fence, smile in order and a beam of hope glistening with every motion. Someone who gets what people strive for with little to no trouble, and in a completely-out-of-the-ordi

It's been a few days so I thought I'd write something.

Nothing particularly new. Lots on my science fiction stuff...I have a basic story put down, and two openings that will hurt people's minds (in both how much is going on all at once, and because it'll be a fun time). Got some cool characters I'm proud of. Main character isn't exactly where I want him yet, but I've been working on what he's about and what he stands for, so it shouldn't be such a hardship soon enough. The second opening is by far my favourite, since it etches together two genres that definitely don't go together in any shape or form (I'll give you one of them...it's science fiction! Who knew!). I know exactly how I want it to play out, and it really hits home, I think. Lots more to go through the story, though.

Coming into possession of a Playstation 3 and a Nintendo DS in the next few months. That way I have something to do all Christmas break (and beyond), and now that I'll be taking the bus, something to do on the bus, and the trips home. No Wii until I know there are games other than Mario and Metroid and that's it. Speaking of Metroid, got Metroid Prime 2 dirt cheap, pretty much so cheap (new) that the store definitely screwed themselves out of massive cash amounts. Likely they had more than just this copy, so they definitely shot themselves in the foot. Plus I got Ratchet and Clank (original), which is always fun. Gearing up for #4!

My birthday's coming up. I'll be TWENTY...TWENTY!!! I never thought I'd live to see this day. Not that I had planned on dying early or anything, but wow. Time sure goes by when you're doing nothing. You know what's gross? In ten years, I'll be thirty. Not that there's anything wrong with thirty, but that's only ten years away. I passed this current "five-month vacation" by in a blink of an eye, so it's worrying how fast ten years can fly by. Then I'll have some kid on my knee, throwing up on my wicked, likely more expensive, golf-like shirt. But since I'm a nerd/geek, no need to worry about the security of my golf-like shirts, marriage is almost not an option for someone like me (not on purpose). But yeah, in two short months I'll be hitting a new decade of life. Sure, almost everyone in '87 has done it by now since it's winding down here in '07, but still, I've barely down anything with the first twenty, so what the hell will I do in this twenty? Scary.

Tomorrow shall reward me with Superbad. It has a ridiculous score at Rotten Tomatoes (ridiculous meaning great), and I've been meaning to see it since it first got mentioned last summer. Haven't gone yet because I'm waiting for cheap day. Sad but true. Even with a good cash flow at the moment, I'm still cheap as anything. Good news is Harvey's poutine will be my best friend for lunch. And I believe Milano's will be my friend for supper. The strange part about how satisfyingly fattening that sounds? I've lost weight, and look a lot better. And I've eaten the same pretty much for the past while. Figure that out.

That's all the news on this end. Sorry to those who read all this, I'd refund you, but I wasted twenty years of my life already. I could try and refund you by telling you stories and stuff, cool and fun ones, but that would just waste even more time. I don't think I could really help refund you, if not myself.

So things have been kind of hectic, considering I do nothing, or close to nothing. For the first time in a while, I had to scramble. Had to work toward a conclusion that could have, and would have, messed up some pretty important stuff.

First off was that my application to switch my major to English had been refused. I slightly needed it, since, after all, 90% of this year's classes are English classes. But an appointment where they laid down the reasoning for it was given, and today I find that they changed me to an English major. That story really didn't sound as pressuring as it was while it happened...

Secondly, I'm down to the wire. I'm close to broke at the moment. My balance is $3.47. That was supposed to change today, but a malfunction at the bank hampered me from having an at least slightly comfortable lifestyle. Maybe tomorrow...?

And there's lots more to talk about, but people would just roll their eyes (more than already). So that's all for now.

It always happens. In anything you read, watch or play, the possibility or outcome that the story leads to can become real, and someone dies. Be they minor, important or even the main character, the death, or deaths in some cases, sets forth a reality in a work of fiction.

I've felt deaths before in movies, and they fuel the fire for the climax. But there's one death that I recently came across that took me by storm and spun me around: I actually felt anger. It made me want to see the enemy get what he deserves...and technically, almost no punishment could bring justice to that poor character's misfortune.

So as I write my novel and work on story outlines for two big series I want to dip my hands into, I can't help but feel obligated to try and give a big death that catches people not only off guard, but makes them cry out in fury. I have a great idea for that, and oddly enough, in the strangest of genres for it. Wouldn't expect to see it in such a genre, but I honestly think it would fit better into that one's grand scheme that I've been working out.

The lust for revenge, in my mind at least, can blind people's judgments, and in the end that could lead to some great jumping points as a writer. Especially in a series, where the main character's actions is the whole reason the story exists.

I did try this once before, but failed horrifically. It ended far before it even started, really...I tossed that one up in the air to all the dirty-minded people. It didn't work because I honestly didn't have a story to work with. I wrote it as I went. I said this a while back about needing a story. It's good to have a story, a beginning, middle and end, but the in-between stuff should be slightly blurry to give it more of a fun writing experience. When writing off the top of your head, making the story try to work on the drop of a hat, that definitely won't work. I got two big ideas from it though, which will finally be coming back to fruition several versions later again, but otherwise it was garbage.

So the two big series I'm writing story outlines to as I write my novel are a science fiction series, and a return to the fantasy series I'll seemingly forever try to make perfect. But this time I'll have my own story, not a ripoff of the Devil and Hell and everything! So that's always good. The only thing I slightly wonder about is that since I'm writing stories to two big ideas, although very different, that they could intertwine with their reasoning and their pacing. Because I want both to be 100% action from beginning to end, but with story somehow etched into those action setpieces.

At the moment, I'm more into the science fiction idea, as it has the more content put out already. I've got to say, I'm pleased with it. I was inspired by a song recently, which helped me come up with a new idea to throw in as the main story's spark point. In terms of pure story, I think this one will be some of my best work.

The fantasy series at the moment is chugging since I'm writing the science fiction story and the novel. It's mostly just a laundry list of what I want to do with the story rather than what the story is. Plus it's going to be a bigger story in terms of pure content and quantity than the science fiction story could ever even come close to achieving (not saying that the science fiction story is small, just saying I have a grander scale in terms of how many I want in this one). But if I pull out all the stops and spend relentless time on it once the science fiction story is up and running, I know I can finally get the exact story I'll be happy with enough to actually write the whole thing without stopping near the end and wanting to change it all...as I have, seven times.

The novel's going well, don't really have anything to talk about there. Lots of great stuff, all around.

Otherwise, Carleton is screwing me over, I'm going to be insanely broke all fall, people don't like to keep their plans with me, and my new bookshelf is almost full already. Just like usual for all!

I have an addiction. Hard to say it after such a long time. I've kept it in the dark, and people would never believe it if they know me. How can it be, right? But I do, and it's sad that it's come to this. I used to binge on it from around every second day to every single day, and if I remember correctly twice in one day at some points.

And now I'm dying. Well, not really, but I probably could. But you can't blame me, it's worth every penny. It makes me happy. I kind of question waking up unless it's on my agenda.

For the first time, I went two weeks without it. Never even missed it, either. But today, I slipped up and couldn't take it anymore. I mean, can you blame me? The amount going on in my life (or lack thereof), I need something like it to make things interesting, or at least to pass the time with.

It's awful, though. I even started to lose weight during that period I went without it, which, when you look at me, you'd notice. I do enjoy packing on the pounds, but when I lose it, you can see it, especially in my face.

This addiction of mine is terrifying. Let it be a lesson not to start it, ladies and gentlemen. I'm more monster than man now.

I am a McDonalds addict.

Note: I should probably say this is a satire...or else people may actually think I'm confessing to something. What I've said is real, apart from the addiction part. I can stop whenever I want.

I've kept quiet for the longest amount of time possible. For the first time in eons, to be perfectly honest. I'm pretty open about it all, and suddenly I went quiet about it for somewhere around two weeks plus. Kind of scary, if I may say so. But it gave me the time I needed to not only catch my breath, but to also come up with something pretty damn cool.

What I'm talking about, of course (I really don't have anything else better to talk about...), is my next thing of writing. I'm diverging away from screenwriting for a little while to cool my heels on writing too much of a good thing, so I thought I'd go back to my roots.

I'm writing a novel, madams and sirs. Snicker all you want, but I've written the first two chapters nearly nonstop, and I've got to say, it's turned out well. I'm writing it old school, in a notebook with ink, just to show how dedicated I am. This way I don't have to even think twice of letting others read it, because they'd have to read it in person and so I can objectively just write it with no other thoughts in my mind now. It's going to be kept dark quite a bit, because it's something I'm holding very closely back, because it truly could be something special.

The two main characters are brothers, Willem and Charlie, and it's their journey through discovering about their family history and what it brings them. They're fifteen and thirteen, so it's kind of a younger story than I'm used to, which is great to deal with. I've never written something that could be classified under an R rating or a very harsh PG-13 or 14A. So to switch to writing a novel AND writing it for a younger crowd than myself, it should turn out more interesting than the other things I've gotten around to. The story's kind of a mixture of science fiction and fantasy, blended together in a way that I really feel is decently fun to play around with.

One thing that comes to mind is how long it may take to write it. It could take as little as a month...it could take longer than a year. That's the beauty of it, I have no set date that I could even attempt to try for. I like having that, because it means I can just write at a leisurely speed and have nothing else bother me. The same can't be said of screenplays, because as I get closer to the end, I get this urge just to finish it. Hence what happened with Phil and Mary, as I just got to the end and powered through close to 50 pages in a week or so. This time I'm writing at my own pace, putting care into every word and every thought.

Things are starting to work out for me outside of the writing world, so I may as well write a charming and fun story about two brothers. It's only right to channel that happiness into the novel...right?