I'm officially a ninja turtle, minus the amphibian thing, and the complexion, and just about everything else... well, except for the pizza bit. I just bought a pair of sais from the Flea Market with TJ. We also got 3 normal ninja swords for seven dollars a piece and one sweet sword for sixteen dollars. Now that we've spent money on the movie, we've gotta get it done, right?

We went bowling last night, and after two hours we finally got placed on a lane where the pins fall over on their own. It kinda sucked, I'm sorry to say. On the up side, however, we did watch Resident Evil when we got back. That Milla Jovovich is so hot right now. Milla Jovovich. The other cool thing is that Denny and Jackie worked out the fundamentals of a fight scene between sai and bo. Once we get out confidence up the combat should move much smoother. We need to practice shooting a scene and speeding it up, too, to test our thresholds.

The part on Sunday fast approaches. I think I'm in the white people car, because apparently I'm not cool enough for the Italian car. I'll cry later. It should really be a blast, but we've gotta take care of a few things before the party. A bunch of people can't go until later, which makes me sad, but it's okay. Some of them should be showing up later on, at which point we can have the biggest and most fun game of celebrity to ever be played.

I'm going to practice my trumpet of all things. Peace out fools.

Just got home from Denny's house. I'm tired. What a surprise.

We just did some minor fight coreography for some minor fight scenes in the very minor ninja movie we're planning on making. Denny and I seem to flow pretty well, so I'm going to have to work out how we can fight once or twice. TJ and Jackie, our two main characters, have no formal weapons training, so I worry greatly. We've all got to realize exactly how much effort and planning has to go into each fight scene for us to succeed without cheesiness. We've got what boils down to one week to coreograph a dozen combat sequences of various lengths and complexities, as well as write a script, and shoot the darned thing. Editing... well, given the average life span... nevermind.

We were going to play celebrity tonight, but something happened.

I've got a meeting tomorrow night. I'm supposed to dress up like a movie character... help me!!!

I went climbing again today, but I was too tired to do much of anything. It's easier with company, but I don't have a car until late afternoon on weekdays. Sorry.

I've got a lot more to say, but I'm too tired to do my thoughts justice. I'll just say "Argh..." and good night instead.

Jackie said I should blog, so here I am.

It's been five minutes. Give me time, I don't have anything to write about yet.

So the birthday party is on August 4th. That's a Sunday. There will be much beachitude, followed by some volleyballage, then perhaps some movieness and some celebritocity.

I'm better now... (No, you're not...)

I'm on a creative low right now, we just played the most one-sided game of Celebrity ever and I'm mentally exhausted from it. On the bright side, we won, so bonus, and there were only 6 clues that we decided were really bad. We're worried about running out of original names some time in the near future, but I don't think among us we really will. The clues might get worse, but we're going to know and remember so many people by the time we run dry that it's not even funny.

I miss playing music, so I'm probably going to take Trumpet back up since I'm not a passable singer and have no other marketable talents. Speaking of which, I went back to band camp this past friday, the last day of band camp, to see how they were doing. There was a lot of heat, and two people I know broke down crying for similar reasons, and there was some yelling, and at that point I didn't really miss it all that much. Then the whole band got together to play, and they went through their songs, and Mr. Watford and the two awesome drum majors conducted, and they sounded great, and a flood of memories and nostalgia hit me like a sledgehammer, and I wished as best I could that time would take me back to those days so I could do it all once again. I've wished that before, but always about things that I regretted, never about things that I simply wanted to relive.

Denny and Ryan and I once had a discussion about failing in life, about growing up and dying with a past full of regrets and a wasteland of a present. We got so into the discussion, and we were so on the brink of sleep anyway (hey, it was 3:30am, sue me) that I was able for a moment to feel what that life would be like to look back on. Now I know what it's like to never be able to go back. I don't want to grasp at air or grapple with straws. I'm not trying to relive anything. I'm trying to live. I enjoyed band before, and nothing has changed about that, except that now I have nothing left to hide.

I'm going mini-golfing tomorrow, and then to the gym, because I've given my muscles a day to recover from climbing and I burn with desire to top off the red course. Denny and Lauren are in on the golf and Kevin and Lauren are in on the gym. It's more like I'm in on the two ideas, but I couldn't of a way to word it at the time.

I'm exhausted. I've been sleeping 3-hour nights plagued with barren restlessness and a void where dreams once roamed. I feel ill, an illness born of impatience and ignorance, and of fear. I'm deathly afraid of how I can be sometimes. I don't want shards of a past life destroying my hopes. I keep pushing the boundary on how sorry a person can be for who he was or is, and I'm afraid that I'll never understand.

I am a creature of empathy. My emotions are flotsam; I go with the flow, feel what others feel. Right now I'm feeling the effects of rejection, which no one can ever truly get become accustomed to, and a double whammy of hopelessness. I'm thinking too deeply, and it's driving me nuts. I've got to get to sleep. I need an anchor.