Staying Awesome For Odin & Country

making peace, also- a celebration

2011-05-16T02:42:00.000-07:00

I told Kim how that last thing made me feel.
In her defense, she did apologize. But she also told me that she has been seeing her ex on a regular basis. So there is that.

I sound dramatic on a daily basis, and this will be no different. So you have been warned.
All I can be from this point on is the best Father I can be to my Son.
I am doing all these cliche things that I know people will mock me for. I look at parents with their children, and i smile.
I see all these kids in different age groups, and I visualize how much cooler Graham is going to be.
I think of movies I like or songs I think are part of my soundtrack, and i can't wait to share them with him.
I need to meet him.
I need to look into his eyes and tell him that no matter what, I'm totally his. And I really need him to look right back into mine and do that thing babies do to tell their very nervous dad that they will forgive any screw up as long as they keep that promise of being there for them.

I loved Kim as best I could. I have faults out the wazoo, so there isn't any anger on my end.
but I am ready to stop lighting that candle in my window, hoping that she might change her mind and want to be a family. I'll just end up diving deeper and deeper into a place that will end with me being the worst person for graham to be around.
I know that at some point, I would realize that it isn't about me anymore. maybe it's now, maybe it is yet to come and I am just having a brief moment of clarity. I have no idea.
There is so much going on inside Brainpan Andy that I cannot keep a thought going for more than a few minutes.
Save for that one.
That being the best Dad I can be, come on, keep up...
Kim can be with who she wants, and I can do my Andy thing.

On a completely different note:

Today marks the 4th year of the Monday Night Comedy Show.
I should write more about it, but I teared up in writing my latest facebook post. I'd rather not go to sleep with crazy emotions running amok.
I'll just say this-
Work on something for 175 times. give it a few hours of thought each time you do it. Let people you care about help you with that something to make it great. Something people other than yourself care about. accept the fact that people you respect feel that your something is worth a damn, and they thank you for putting in the time to make it a thing to look forward to. Then call that something The Monday Night Comedy Show.
I'll be at my show tonight, giving a damn about the one thing I am good at- making people I care about laugh.

Cue music, and fade to the Stay Awesome...

Andy

Is this all you've got, God? It's me, Andy

2011-05-08T00:01:00.000-07:00

Yo.

I have become a wicked lazy dude when it comes to blogging. I don't think anyone reads this one anyway. Not since I moved to that other site that I didn't even own.
And you know what that got me? A lot of posts that are completely lost now. Yay!

So if you read anything on that other site, Yesandy dot com, you were privy to info that is lost to the ages. I'm sure almost 10% of it was pretty good, too.

Well, now I have no documentation to prove I existed then.

Oh well. Onwards and moving forth and such.

Here is today's thingy:

I have been super responsible father of the child lately. It isn't big news, it's just something that i think is important. So I have been doing my part and showing Kim that I am worth a damn, but if you read this, you know that really doesn't mean anything.
We have good days and bad days.
And usually, I can just pass everything off as hormones or me not being a bleep on her radar.
Whatever, my life sucks, blah blah blah.
Today I took the bus to her house to pick up her car and get the tires replaced.
She hit a mondo pot hole a couple nights ago and blew out her back tire.
Messed up her rim too.
But I was just happy that she was safe and that the only bad thing that happened was her burrito got cold. (which she saw as the worst part of the night)
There is more to the story, but we need to get to todays drama, or it might expire.
I get to her house and she shows me a lot of neat things that one of her friends had given her for Graham. They were lovely. However everything is trumped by my Lindsey McDonald Dorsey, who purchased Graham the crib we registered for at Target. Seriously. That totally sets the bar pretty high for my family members, who I thought might get the bigger stuff. (But there is still that sweet transport crib and breast pump...)

So a HUGE thanks to Linds. Love you to the moon.

Where was I?
Oh yeah. I was at her house.
I entered her room and saw her nice big bed she got recently and noticed something that made my heart break.
We have matching framed pictures of Graham's first ultrasound. (I actually have 4 framed ultrasound pics all around my room)
Stuck in the frame's corner was a strip of photobooth pictures of Kim and her ex (guy before me.) One of those nice ones where you are having a good time and kissing and sticking your tongue out at each other. good times.
He's the guy who was abusive to her.
And maybe I shouldn't make this public. Maybe I should keep it all inside and explode over some tiny thing somewhere down the line. maybe i am an asshole to bring it up.
Perhaps I deserve everything that she has put me through in the last few months.

But you know what?

I don't fucking hit girls. or anyone I care about. And on a side note, I don't have any pictures of ex girlfriends on the ultrasound photo's of my unborn child. that isn't a choice I would make.

So that is something i am thinking about while I try to get some sleep. And I am sure it will seep into tomorrow.
I think I have an ulcer now, but am too poor to see a doctor to find out if it's just in my head.

On that note, if anyone has any work for me, I'll take it. Anything. I'll clean up puke if needed. i need some insurance for my son who is due in 10 weeks.

Goodnight.

Andy

ps- I don't like going to bed angry at things I can't change. I feel completely useless.

2011-04-25T23:27:00.000-07:00

I broke my own rule of never editing.

I also gave up on my comedy show tonight.

I will never forgive myself for either of those things.

at wits end.

2011-04-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

All I want is to talk to the Mother of my child about my child.
I really don't think that is too much to ask.

I have never been so sad about anything than this radio silence.

Maybe seeing her more would help.

or feeling him kick more than once.

I can't do this much longer.

This could prove dangerous.

2011-03-31T07:35:00.001-07:00

Just downloaded the mobile app for das blog... Dont worry, it will just be used for pictures. I dont like the touchscreen much.

The poster that doug kallberg made for the show is pretty rad.

Ok. Bye for now.

Andy

If I were in a movie, it would be called 'Rando'

2011-03-22T01:13:00.000-07:00

"On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux"

Pretty pretentious, having a quote in French without any explanation.
But alas, here we are.

My writing has been Baby-Heavy lately, just like my thoughts.
I get these emails from 'What to expect dot com', which I call my Baby nerd website.
Though Lise might cringe, as she steered me away from the book of the same name (sans the dot com)
And she was right, By the way. That book is BRUTAL. Everything you want to hear, but with 100 pounds of 'This is the stuff that can go wrong and probably will' added to it.
I told Kim to not read it because I trust Lisa's word. I, however, was curious. I wish I hadn't.

So today i find out that my child can hear everything and can also do Math and stuff.
The self deprecating part of me decides that he is already smarter than me in every way. I'm just feeling low because I found out that I didnt get a job I really wanted. Something that would pay well, and give great benefits to both Kim and to Graham.
I felt like a total failure.
I still do.
I know that doing theater and producing shows will never actually make any money. I was just hoping that doing it for 4 years might give me some kind of discernible skill. Sadly, no.

Anyway, I ended the night with a really good MNCS. I haven't felt good about a show in at least a month. Well, at least on my end. Haven't felt funny lately, i guess.
Everything I did felt forced. I think that one thing that helped was that i talked with Kim today. We were due to have late lunch after she got off of work. but work for her today was crazy nuts, so she called to give me a heads up. maybe she was just in a calm in the storm, but I like to think she used up all of her break just to talk to me. She told me about her lunch with her Dad, and that 'My' Son has been keeping her up all the time due to kicking. She always says 'your Son' when it is an annoying thing for her. I am strangely ok with that. :)
I told her I didn't get the job, and she acknowledged it. It made me feel a bit better. I don't know why. Maybe because it's Her, and i want her to know that I AM looking. I'm trying. But like I said, Four years of hosting a Comedy Show doesn't mean anything in the Job-world.
I hope to grow up, but I don't want my Son to think that wasting away in a corporate world is what it's like to be an adult.

And it's things like that that make me think I will be a bad father...

I swear I won't mention the word 'Craft' in any way but ironic. But I hope above all things that he gets Kim's visual art abilities and my whatever I have to offer.
Maybe he will be very good at worrying. Or a working knowledge of which starship Enterprise was featured in which series or motion picture.
I think I need to read more. Maybe take a continuing education class on excel or powerpoint.

What did you do today, Andy?
Oh, i felt sorry for myself most of the time. Spoke with the Mother of my child for a bit. That cheered me up a little, and then I worked on the Monday show stuff and made a female shark costume for JAws The Musical... A point of interest was when I was peeling layers of elmers glue off my fingers and pretending that it was skin while screaming in fake pain to no one in particular. In a British accent (which is my go-to voice in my head)
You know, normal stuff.
My Boy doesn't have a chance.

Oh, today my blood sugar got so low because of not eating that for some reason my left hand started to shake uncontrollably. that was odd.
For five minutes straight, I thought I had the beginning stages of Parkinson's Disease. To the point where I did online research.
And then, after I had finally eaten something and the shaking went away, i started doing some looking into leprosy because I was pulling chunks of elmers glue off my hands. And that evolved into schizophrenia research because for some reason I talk to myself in a British accent. Everything comes full circle, I swear to you.

Again, my boy doesn't have a snowball's chance in Hell of being normal. But He WILL be interesting...

In other news, tonight was out 167th show. And it was a great one. No one heckled me to shut up, which I see as a triumph.
Jason kruger did a 5 minute set that everyone enjoyed, and we had a fun lineup in addition. Kate Urquhart is my favorite MNCS Comic in residence. That is where we have someone do 5 all new minutes of jokes each week.
It is one of those things I think of at random and it happened to work. I have people asking about doing it at least every other week. (and to be honest, I did it so the audience wouldn't get bored hearing the same jokes over and over) But it also challenges the comics who do it. Kate really works hard, and comes up with great stuff. If I can make it so the show is ONLY new stuff, I will be a very happy dude.
But coming up with 5 new minutes a week is no small feat. I am happy with people trying is all. I want my audience to keep coming back with the thought 'What will happen this week?'
And I certainly don't want Linds, Jason or Roni to be bored. The show needs them too much.

Ok, so this was a very ranty-tangent post.
Basically, I wanted to stress how much i dislike making shark costumes. I don't think I made that clear.
Still, I am pretty good at it. If making shark costumes that look like they were made by a three year old with a working knowledge of shitty costumes should look like is a skill.
Target corp should have a department devoted to just that.

Until that happens, keep reading and stay awesome.

Andy

I was thinking of my Son. So I thought I should write about it.

2011-03-17T13:21:00.000-07:00

This Blog is brought to you by the letter H for 'Haugie' and the number 11 because I like it.

Why? What did Haugie do to inspire the typy type? Oh, she wrote a blog after 3 years of being lame and not writing a blog.
So look at the link to the right of this and find her blog, read it. Comment on it. And tell her to keep at it.

In our last chapter, I was very very drunk and should not have been writing.
Alas, I do not edit my bits until Simon & Shuster come a knocking and tell me to trim the fat.

Oh, speaking of fat, I am on a diet. No more eating like an asshole. I think today is day 8 of that. Cant be sure. I'd have to check my little calendar that I keep in my coat pocket. i write everything down in it, as my brain has turned to mush in my extreme old age.
But that coat is almost ten feet away, and I cannot be bothered with long trips right now.
So yeah. Losing the weight of the world in my belly.
We will see how long it lasts.
Next up: Quitting smoking.
Soon, Mon. Soon...
I would like to have been at least a month smoke free before my Son arrives.
It seems I would like to see him reach adulthood without that pesky cancer.

Haugies blog was nice and inspiring. Something that I think my own writing lacks. At least recently. I mean, if you take out the five months that I stopped writing altogether and include the last 3 or so years.
Yeah, I've been a kind of bummer.
She reminded me that I don't need to be melancholy all the time when writing. Even when there is some major scary things going on in one's life.
And I don't think there is anything scarier than Andy brynildson becoming a father.

I have a lot of nice friends who assure me that i will be great at it.
I trust them. Mostly.
I know myself. Meaning, i know where I stand in relation to God, Politics and Social things.
I am rubbish at relationships, but then, so is everyone in my family to some degree, i think. I realize that I need to stop looking at the history of my family as some sort of curse that I am doomed to repeat. I think that if I pass along anything to my Son, it will be all good things. Maybe heavy on the whole 'dreamer' aspect, but that certainly isn't something to be ashamed of.
One thing, above all, I hope that he is kind.
And that he understands the importance of clean laundry. Maybe he will develop an odd fascination with how dryer exhaust smells and makes you happy.
Or he could be normal, and not like the old man...

Either way, I'm going to be around for him. I hope he likes me.

More soon.

Stay Awesome and things like that.

Andy

Whatever.

2011-03-15T00:45:00.000-07:00

let me preface with a 'I am drunk as a sailor' type metaphor.

I have beside my little netbook computer a salad that goes by the name of 'Chef'
I got it from my friendly neighborhood super America, who goes by the cryptic name of 'Speedway' in other parts of the world.
'Speedway' is an Ojibwa word meaning 'you gave up on nutrition a long time ago'.
It is a block away from my house, so I would be remiss if i were to not shop there and stimulate my local economy.
Also, the points I have accrued are close to buying me a lake home. (not sure about that, but I am sure they offer it. Might have to check the brochure, though)

That being said, i am distracted by it. I haven't eaten anything today because my eating habits are wonky as of late because of all this pesky 'Emotion' that I have been enduring.
Christ on toast, i do hate being a fucking musical theatre nerd sometimes.
Give me Phantom before football or Secret Garden in front of beer.
I worry that one day my Son will think that Nascar and Fantasy football are real things.
I do admit one thing: Long before I knew that I would be a father, back when Waynes World was a new release... I was listening to the 'Starlight Express' Soundtrack, and I thought that the title track would be a wonderful thing to sing to my own child as a lullaby.
In admitting this, i have to kill you.
but there you go.

I was going to tell you about a thing I thought earlier today... Oh yes! I think it had something to do with where I am right now.
Darkness.
mysterious bleak and desolate darkness.
It has nothing to do with my personal bits of hoo ha which bore even the most patient of Tibetan Monk.
It's more of a rant about the world and people I love more than anything ever.
And since this is MY soapbox, I shall talk till the talking is talka talka talk.
(you ever write a word and think it looks odd? Even though you know it is right because spell check didn't underline it with a squidgy red line? Talk... talk. Talktalktalk... hmmm. I digress.
Ok, so here is where dude is right now:
Japan has a lot of shit going down. Earthquakes and Tsunami bullshit. Makes you wonder if we are next. god knows that America, as decadent as we are, are due for a natural disaster like a mo-fo. But here we are. Most of Japan is messed right the hell up. And yet people are STILL talking about how Charlie Sheen is being a dipshit.
The day after it happened, which technically was a handful of hours after it happened, there were more youtube videos floating around than stuff about one of those kardashian monsters. And that is hard to do. And also, i puked a bit in my mouth when i wrote about a kardashian. Those things have no place here on my soapbox, especially when i am talking about something as real as the tragedy that is building daily in Japan after their huge quake.
I wonder why people aren't freaking out more about it.
I mean, this stuff is obviously more devastating than Katrina was. Well, not to those affected by Katrina... But looking at the videos, and hearing the prospected numbers of those killed. jesus, guys. Imagine the shitstorm that would happen if it were to happen in, say, Chicago.
It boggles my mind. And I am in no state to offer opinion on anything except legoland at the Mall of America. (awesome, by the way.)
I don't pray very much. It isnt a rule, but I am not the prayin' type. However, i found myself talking to whatever God I thought would listen to me twice this week. once was for personal stuff regarding my son, and the other was for anyone within a thousand miles of anything related to Japan's earthquake.
I have no idea why this has affected me so much. Maybe because of all the other shit that is considered 'news' while this is going on. I don't know. I have a LOT of other stuff going on. I am really good at distracting myself. I have been immersed in episodes of MST3K like it is some sort of dialysis and if I don't see at least 2 hours of witty commentary on B movies, my liver will fail.
But even while I am one of the best people around when it comes to checking myself out of reality, I am constantly drawn to this horrendous chain of events. I am thinking about my own situation, selfishly of course, and that little enormous fact that 9 million people share a birthdate on planet Earth.
NINE MILLION.
And that is just a stupid wikipedia number. It grows daily.
My Son will share his own birthday with a ton of other people. And a big number of those people will have been affected by a tragedy like an earthquake in Japan. Or something like extreme poverty or illness that cannot be cured or hate or something that I cannot think about because my mind is cluttered with silly personal worry.
I apologize for freaking out, but ALL I can think about is what i am bringing my son into.
I fear for him. i want the world he is introduced to to be one of safety. Someplace where he can live a long and happy life filled with every opportunity. I am sure that each and every person who has a child feels these same fears. I'm like a broken record, and nothing I say is new or clever.
But i swear, knowing that the most important person in my life for the next bajillion years(since he and i will both live forever) It really is messing with my head.
I have been really immature thus far, and to have an event that slaps me across the face so hard like becoming a FATHER... it is something I just don't have a frame of reference for.
I think of my friend James, who is enlisting in the Military for the SECOND time, just to make sure his family is safe and secure... He is a fucking hero. I can't respect anyone more. It kills me that I cannot get to Indy to see him off. All because I need some stupid amount of hours at work so I can maybe buy some diapers one day in the future or pay a bill to a company that has millions.
I want to hug him and say how much he inspires me. Fuck you, world, for making money so damn critical. And Fuck ME for thinking that being responsible is more important.
Well anyway. I at least know where i would rather be. I never thought it would be Indianapolis.
At least can write him letters. There is that.
Know what I don't like being? An emotional wreck. That is a major bummer.
Kim didn't come to the show tonight.
She sent me a text saying that she was accepted for Insurance, though. It was the first time I heard from her in 4 days.
I wonder sometimes what is worse: being completely shut out from/by the mother of my child, or knowing that I will not be able to shield the child from the atrocities that happen in the world he is about to live in.
The only comfort I have is that I know myself well enough that I will try and help him understand everything that man is capable of. Even the completely shitty things. Just so he can be better.

I'm sorry that this was such a downer. I will not write when I'm drunk again.
Good show tonight. I wish you could have seen it. I got two great presents for the baby. One was a hand knit little bunny with very long ears. Just holding him makes you smile.
And the other was a two part recipient gift: A flip cam. For filming sets at The Monday and also for getting footage of Graham. That's him name, by the way.
Graham Atticus Kieffer Brynildson. That name means 'Badass' in latin.

Have a great today.
Andy

Sheepishly, he enters with head low so you won't notice

2011-03-05T05:43:00.000-08:00

March, eh?
How about that!
Seems like only yesterday that I was doing something...
Ok. Yeah. You are right. It has been a shit ton of a long time.
So what brings me back?
Lots of things. One, I don't own the domain of Yesandy dot com. And since I don't own it, I don't feel comfortable writing in it. I also don't remember the password. I went through some computer troubles a while ago, and the batcomputer spy machine that I usually use had to be wiped and some other bits that are way too technical for even science. Well, my kind of science. Which is at a steady 10th grade level.
Anyhow, I am back here.
But it really isn't a huge deal, since i haven't written any kind of update since 2010. To say that things have changed would be an affront to the word 'change'
I could re-cap, but my brain is fuzzy on the whirlwind, so instead I will just keep on plugging like I never went away. Cool? Very.

The most important thing I can say about myself for the rest of my life is that I am a father.
Well, soon to be. July 15th is the due date for a little baby Boy.
Now, yes, this is a really huge thing.
It's a human being.
A little version of half of me.
Daunting? Yes.
Exciting? You bet.
I'm at a loss as to what else to write about this. I mean, I know myself pretty well. I know what my faults are, and I know all sorts of stuff about me that I never let anyone know. Not even the closest of the close.

He will probably be an only child, but in a few ways, we have a lot of things in common, which I think will bring us closer together and help develop a relationship that I don't have with my own Dad.
Come, let me list the ways. Join me, won't you?
1)Boy. It's a Boy. Child is the Father of the Man. I am a boy. I was. Am. Are. We. Together, we are dudes.
2)Age separation. Kind of an odd list item, but bear with me. I am closest in age to my Brother, Matt. But by 12 years. Now, this little guy will have TONS of cousins. By Blood and by code of the streets. I ended up finding out the kind of guy I am as an only child. My siblings were all older than me, and i only got to see them on very special weekends where they didn't mind having me around. I like to think that they were mercy visits in order to get me away from my Dad and Step Mom for a bit. A fact that I am almost sure saved my life on more than a few occasions.
3)The nature of the parenting that is going to happen. What? i know, right? ok, so I am not married. In fact, i doubt that I ever will get married at this point. I mean, i have a kid. er. am having. About to have. I am with child as it were. The logistics of things are a bit on the far out side of the spectrum.
It is so different, that I will now end the listing of things and start talking about this. It's kind of important to the story.
Kim is the name of the Mom.
She is a wonderful woman, who I dated for a few months last year.
Now, with Kim, I was playing it safer than I had ever done. Meaning, i was being a nancy and not calling it what it was: Boyfriend/Girlfriend. I wasn't scared of commitment. I mean, i like being in a relationship. I just have trust issues. And not that I was thinking she would cheat on me, it's the breaking up that sucks. If it happens. And the moment you open yourself up to saying 'i love you' well, then all bets are off. I don't like betting. I'm always wrong. And it's only that hindsight where you realize your first instinct is wrong.
I love you. Wait. i think I do. I think this will work. Wait. no it won't.
i want a do over.
Yeah, so we were dating, and I did get really attached. I did fall in love. I kept that part to myself until it was too late.
Then she dumped me in order to sort out her emotional finances, which is my nice way of saying she didn't want to be with me anymore.
ok. no problem. I couldn't be mad at her for her reason. Nature is nature. You have to explore and walk around with a stick that you pretend is a sword.
And yes, i am giving veiled analogies for the real reason she left me.
But then she didn't really leave.
We still hung out. All the time.
She still came to The Monday Show every week.
She still slept over a lot because she hated being at her house. I didnt mind, because I still loved her and liked being around her.
And things were just like it was when we were dating, save for the intimacy.
That kind of sucked.
That really sucked.
We had a couple of moments where we did things that could be labeled as 'one last hurrah'
And that last hurrah, well the result of it will be bounding into the scary world in July and I am charged with protecting him and teaching him things.

There was a plan in place that involved Kim living with her Mom and taking care of baby. That plan is still in effect.
Where do I come in to the picture?
That, dear one, is a VERY good question.
The first half of the pregnancy has been wonderful.
Kim and I talked all the time and we were good friends. I was emotionally supportive, and I was all too happy to run errands for her like getting any and all food that she was craving at the time. When she was over, i did my best to make her comfortable. I was pretty good. She said so herself. It seemed like she was liking the idea of having me around.
About a week ago, she comes over and lets me know that she feels that she has been going at this all alone.
granted, I do not have what people would call 'A Normal Job' I know this. I am taking steps to correct it. I know a lot of men who have children who are far worse off than I am. Either in financial matters or in matters of involvement.
So the job thing is what I HOPE is the deal. I don't know. i have more or less been shut out the last week save for a couple of texts that are cordial and empty of anything resembling deep meaning. Which as we all know is what text messages are for...
I know myself, though. I know I am not my Father. I am a different beast altogether.
I show my emotions like a flasher. I expose embarrassing things about me that no one in their right mind would want out there. I'm going to be the absolute best father that I can be. My world is his now. And I am SO ok with that. I look at his ultrasound picture every day, several times a day. I smile every time. I'm scared. I'm impatient. i want to meet him right now. I want to sing to him and try and make him smile. I want him to feel safe. I just want to be there.
Maybe it is the hormones that is making Kim not want to talk or see me anymore. Or as little as possible. I hope it is just that.
I just wish that she had answers for me, whether I want to hear the answers or not. I feel really alone right now. And add to that, the butterflies of becoming so important to an innocent child, I feel like I'm losing my mind at times.

There is other stuff too. I walked around the Mall of America to cure diabetes. Linds, her Mom, Dad and Sister were there. Bill and Jena Young gave me a lift and we bitched about the early hours together. Legoland is fucking AMAZING now. Totally different from when Svet and I were there. When I am there next, i will take pictures.
We ended the walk by having a Cinnabon in all it's 'Fuck you, Glucose' glory.

The MNCS plugs along. Need established comics to try and bring people to see them perform. It's a lot like pulling teeth, that.

Started a new monthly show I call 'XANADU' It has 2 headlining comics, some guest sets and a band that plays an entire album all the way through.
The first show featured 'The Village Green Preservation Society' by The Kinks.
and Xanadu 2 was Weezer's Pinkerton Album.
There are times when i feel regret. Anyone who says they have no regrets is a bold faced liar. I don't care what you say.

This month, on the 24th, we have a band playing Tom Petty & The Heartbreaker's greatest hits. Should be a good time. Doing this show is teaching me a lot about producing.

We are doing another remount of JAWS THE MUSICAL! Maybe it isnt a remount. it has been 5 years since the last show in Indy.
And I re-wrote the script and added 8 pages. It is pretty good. it was pretty good. It's just better now.
April 14th is opening night. I have a great staff on board, and a great cast.
In all, it's going to be great. More on that soon.

I'm selling all of my action figures that I think may interest nerdy collectors. I always had them because I thought I could use them to send my kid to school. I have since seen the reality of it, and I know they could at least buy some baby things...
It's a first thing first thing.

Well. I think that is enough for now.

Stay Awesome until I have a wild hair and write more. At which time I will tell you again.

Andy

Missing you.

2010-04-19T02:30:00.000-07:00

Please say you go to the new website, because there is stuff going on there. I know you can do it.

www.yesandy.com

I love you.

A

Important news

2010-03-15T13:12:00.001-07:00

Hi there.

I have a couple news bits to tell you.
This bloggy thing and all it entails will now be seen on another site.

www.yesandy.com

I apologize for the inconvenience, but I will be able to add more things to that site like video from the MNCS and other bits like clips of me trying out that stand up comedy thing.

Also, tonight is the Monday Night Comedy Show. 8pm Minneapolis Time.
It would be great to see you there in person, but if you are suffering from being far away, you can watch it online at

www.mnstandupcomedy.com

Hope you can check it out!

Love and miss you all, but I am always kind of around.

Stay Awesome!

Andy

Something to read for your morning paper.

2010-03-08T00:13:00.000-08:00

You always think about wonderful things that happen to you and try to find the time to write about them.
sadly, it doesn't happen until you find a little bit of 'motivation' in your pocket.
Today I am wearing the black jacket with the pockets that are there for decoration.
ergo: No motivation.

I suppose a lot has been happening. I don't know who reads this any more, but this one is for you.
I may repeat a lot of stuff, since you are most likely involved in my day to day, but i think there might be a delegation on Endor that might find this useful intel for my assassination. What ewoks want me dead remains a mystery, but i am ever vigilant about small furry things that live in trees. And want me dead.

My punctuation regarding the first person is still dodgy at best. This is a good summation of where I am in these troubling times. Heh. i punctuated that I, didn't i? But I have never been very good at grammar and proper writing styles. Suck a dick, Faulkner...

I am living in a circle of interests that keep me hanging on like a song from the 80's that escapes me. It's either Kim wilde or Belinda Carlisle. Your choice and it's probably right.

So two months have past and I have to tell you the cliff notes since I am both lazy and not very into self aggrandizing. the joke is in the fact that I still keep a blog... anyone? thank you smart people... Still got it.

MNCS: Still happening. Audience numbers are down and booking of acts is still a pain in my arse.
I do find myself defensive about it still, which is the reason i keep going with it. I love it to death, but i feel that my lack of 'give a shits' lately is leading to its demise.
I know that with the warmer weather it will cease to be a bane in my existence, and I am just venting to no god in particular (dionyses, god of wine and whoopie... spelling to be checked at a later time that will never happen).
I go through bouts of 'fuck this' regarding the show. You know this, I know this. Next week is going to be the best show ever done...blah blah blah. But after 115 of these little nuggets of heartburn, you tend to think that you are all out of ideas to make it funny. I continue to be thankful for the support I get week after week, and without them, there would be nothing to do on Mondays but drink and shoot holes in rusted out cars on cinder blocks in my front yard.

Which leads me to topic the Dos.
I have tried stand up comedy.
Finally after bitching and moaning about it for years.
it happened first at grumpy's on a wednesday.
it was the night of the fringe lottery, which now will become the stone that murders more than one bird...I entered the fringe to try and jump start my producing-directing attempt once more and was picked last.
Absolute last.
out of how many folks with fringy stars upon thars, I was the last one picked for the team.
the fact that I ended up last picked somehow ended up as some sort of 'i am a sore loser' prize. I even did a lap around the venue to high five people for my misfortune.
meanwhile, the silver lining that reared its ironic head was that i was cast moments later as a lead in a musical. More on that at a later time.
So last picked, i found myself at Grumpy's. it is one of the worst rooms to do comedy in the world.
But I had nothing to lose, and it was filled with stand up comics who i consider friends even though most of them don't know I have a last name.
I might as well be like Cher or Bono to them. I am sure they call me the fat one if either of the two analogies ever make it to prime time conversation...
Picture me with nothing left to lose and a head full of PBR and ideas that seemed good at the time.
I signed up to do my first stand up set.
Hindsight says be proud of getting up there, but reality keeps me thinking that I am a masochist.
The set lasted all of 3 to five minutes of rambling and feeling inadequate.
But the die was cast.
I tried it, and i wanted to do better the next time.
So I did The corner bar on friday.
Let's skip that night.
Grumpy's again on wednesday next found me talking about killer whales and hitler.
Moving on.
Jump ahead five spots to the other night and the corner Bar again.
This being my fourth official set.
Better. And moving in an upward plane.
Which means in laymans terms, I keep at it.
Growth as a person/performer/Andy/scruffy looking nerf herder.

I find myself writing more as a result, and notebooks that were reserved for staying blank 'just in case' are not being scribbled on like there is no tomorrow.

I have mild smirks during my alone time to make myself feel better.

And so this is an already long winded diatribe, i continue despite myself.

I have been having dreams about ex people I have loved. or still love. i don't know.
As a dark and sad part of the last year, i have trained myself to disavow any kind of warm and fuzzy feeling and am slowly but surely turning into a vulcan despite my tearing up at the tribute to John Hughes at the oscars.
Feelings are for the weak and I am a rock. An Island. And i have poetry and throwing knives to protect me.
These dreams, to get back on point, are vivid and available to go back and edit after each and every push of the snooze bar.
I would like to think that I have some psychic ability to engage in the subconscious of those i think about, but sadly my super powers of the damned remain to be just in my own head.
I think it's better that way, since against my better judgement, I have 99 problems and it's a safe bet that if you are reading this, you constitute about 90 of them.

Like Boyz 2 Men said: 'It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday'

And yes, i did just go there. And yes, I am thinking about Michael Landon and Jim Henson. And so are you. We finally agree on something. They WOULD make the perfect dad.

At any rate, i am thinking of developing a speed habit to avoid sleep altogether.
I assume I can score drugs like that at local high schools.

What else? Oh, theres lots of things. I think of deleting you from my friends list all the time. Just kidding. it's a joke I am working on.

there is Karaoke and people who speak fluent german and girls who wear eyeliner on their lips and for some reason I have been thinking about dollar stores and Boston and Michigan and Irvington and something called Project X that I am not ready to talk about just yet. Breath.
And nursing and new York and things I should have done and promises I have yet to keep and jewelry repair.
if you have any questions, please know that I have a new cell phone number.
I do have unlimited talk and text and internet access, so keep those facebook updates coming, because i get them all on my phone now. I get a beep every 3 seconds and it's lovely.

In other news, i am an announcer for the Twin Cities Terrors Mens roller Derby league.
It's a small step towards finding a girl who can kick my ass, but a step nonetheless.
The last bout is on the 27th of this month, so I am sure there will be more to tell soon.

Um... I have three pairs of sparkly shoes that I got for a dollar a pair from a store that shouldn't be frequented by a white boy from Indiana. Pictures are available on some random facebook page.
I call them my 'hosting shoes'
My mother thinks I am gay because I wear them, but that is the older generation for you. Another blog, another time.

I am also on a diet now. Watching my shit intake and working out 3x a week. I entered into a contest with Comedian Bill Young to lose 50lbs by June 1st.
So far I have lost 5.
I go to a gym with my friend Troy, and while it isn't the same as when i worked out before, it is actually showing results. Less distractions, i think.
Pictures to follow once I find something in spandex that is tasteful.

I am 31 years old, and I don't see an end in sight.
Either this means I am ok, or I am about to jump the shark and i am due for cancellation. But I do think it's gonna be alright. At least I have lots of material to make fun of. there's that.

I hope you are doing well too. I would read your blog, but I think it is very egotistical to think that one is as interesting as me.
Just kidding. I read your blog whether you think so or not. i'm clever that way.

Till next time, remember to Stay Awesome and be nice to people.

Andybear.

2010-03-03T14:23:00.000-08:00

I think I may write tonight. Stay tuned.

one for the books.

2010-02-16T01:52:00.001-08:00

Yeah, I know. It's been a while.

2010 has been some kind of bitch, but it is far from over.

Tonight was something I didn't want to happen.

I hope you are doing well, though.

In case you didn't hear, my new number is 612 296 6500

THE PHONE LINES ARE ALWAYS OPEN.

That being said, I hope you have a lovely tomorrow.

Yours,

Andrew

ps- I have something on the horizon known as 'Project X' If it works out, it will be one of those too good to be true dream type things. I'll keep you posted, i promise. But until then, nothing of note has occurred. I have pretty much given up on most things i used to talk about. Happy belated valentines day.

End of another year.

2009-12-31T15:09:00.000-08:00

In which, the Boy and his Bear have an end of the year review.

Lots of stuff happened this year, you know.
I know.
There was that one time you were in Indiana for a time.
Yes. Better part of six months, that.
I missed you then. Wondered why you went.
I thought long and hard about it myself. I don't regret it, if that's where you're going.
No, it's just that you are getting on in years and you really need to settle down and find a family.
You mean a wife and kids?
And a dog. Dogs are a fine addition. I once had a stuffed dog. Not the same, I know, but if you believe they are real...
The magic of the nursery?
What the hell are you talking about?
Um. Velveteen Rabbit?
Don't mix any more fiction into this if possible; I know how you like to rant.
I am long winded. That much is true.
Word. Anyhow, you were saying?
What? About family? That was you. You want me to have a dog. I actually kind of had one in Indiana.
What kind was it?
A mix between a black lab and a German shepherd. It had one ear that flopped and one that stood up. Someone abandoned her.
No more metaphors!
I see where you are going. But some guy really did drop her out of a car, and then drove off.
That is terrible!
Yeah. If you have the idea that you want to add a puppy to all the madness around you, you have to have that same idea for a long time.
The dog is still there?
Yes. Being taken care of by good people. I was sad to say goodbye.
To the dog?
To it all.
But you feel better about it now?
No. I don’t think I do.
Sorry to bring it up.
No problem.
What about your show? You still do that, right?
Well yes. It is my favorite night of the week.
Good. Let’s move on to other things. You tend to talk about the MNCS too much.
Very true.
Do you still believe in things?
I think I do. I'm not sure if 2009 was really my year. I did find out a lot about myself, though.
I didn't ask that. I asked about things.
Like what?
Like how little kids are fun when they seem really excited to see you, or sitting outside when you drink coffee at night is the best time.
Well sure, I believe in that stuff. But I thought you were talking about faith in me, I am not so confident these days.
What happened to you?
I was told that I am in a valley.
Your metaphors are weak at best.
Not mine! I was told this by someone I trust, and I think it's true. She was talking about valleys and peaks. It worked for me.
As an explanation as to why?
Not really, but it did a good job of describing my current state. There is so much I want to do still.
Then do it. Do all of those things. Then you might start to believe. Want to smoke some crack with me?
What?
Nothing.
Ah. One of those tests to see if they were paying attention? I can dig it.
I think you should start doing more. The Monday show is great, but you need something else. There is no reason a weekly two hour show should eat up most of your time.
It doesn’t. I have spare time when I am not working.
So what do you do with that time?
I think about doing stuff.
But without actually doing them?
Correct.
Please allow me to beat you over the head with this cinder block I can ‘bearly’ lift. Did you see what I did there?
Clever. Maybe that should be the theme of 2010?
Cinder block violence? Being clever?
Doing, not thinking. Actions speak louder than words… Well, you know what I mean.
If you spend all your time just thinking about the things you should be doing, and not actually accomplishing anything, you are quite lazy.
I am lazy. I should stop that.
Yes. And you should buck up and stop being so mopey. I like you when you are cheerful.
It has been a long time since I was cheerful the way you remember me being.
You had so much potential. You had quite a lot going for you in your 20’s. What happened?
Nothing of any importance when we should be discussing 2009.
I agree. Aside from Indiana, did you travel?
I went to Florida for a bit. And Michigan. Twice.
Meet any new people that you think will be friends for a lifetime?
A couple.
Lose any people?
A couple too many. One person I had only met once, but her loss affected so many of my friends. There are a lot of people hurting out there.
Yes. It’s a shame
I haven’t really any room for complaints. There are billions of people in the world who have it worse off, or have suffered a great deal more than I have this year.
It’s good to put perspective on things. Are you happier now than you were last year at this time?
No. I was perfect last year at this time. Probably the happiest I have been. But in the end, I screwed it up.
Odds are you will be better next year. Maybe even fall in love again.
I’d better start working on it.
But don’t try too hard. You know how you get. Is this the dawn of a new and better Andy?
Let’s not jinx it. How about we say it’s a start of a different Andy.
Ask for more help this time around, ok?
I will.
And let go of the bulk of your hurt. I know you keep that stuff around for too long.
Heh, I’m still working on 2006’s hurt.
You know what you have to do. I believe in you.
I’m starting to believe in you too.
At least there’s that. Have fun tonight, Boy.
You too, Bear.

And then they walked off into the wood looking for different adventures than the ones they had in the last year. What happens next remains to be seen.

I hope you have a great New Years Eve.

See you guys next year!
Until then, Stay Awesome.

Love,
Andy

Forgot to tell you something.

2009-12-24T09:58:00.000-08:00

On a more positive note, I will be making more opportunities to shine.

I say it a lot, but this time I mean it: I aim to misbehave.

A

To late to say I'm sorry. What does it matter? Why should I care...

2009-12-24T02:37:00.000-08:00

It was supposed to be different this year.

In a good way.

I am sick of saying 2007, 2008, 2009 will be MY year.

2010 is going to be A year.

All this remains to be seen. I just dont feel I was given the opportunities I needed to shine.
Every fucking year, huh kids?

Enough now.
A

Tweaking out on what ended up being 4 very strong cups of coffee.

2009-12-06T05:17:00.001-08:00

I haven't been writing about my trip. I'm sure you have noticed and have been more than a little concerned.
I am wresting this feeling of sadness about certain parts of my life. One of them being the fact that there are some people who read this, and think it accurately reflects the goings on in my life.
The things I write here are not absolute. This is a moment. And everything is comprised of many of those.

I know what you are thinking, 'Andy, are you getting introspective while sitting at the downtown Indianapolis Dunkin Donuts?'

As a matter of fact...

But this is not the platform for I wish, I wanted or I should have's. Those should be left for late night conversations at a perkins or an embers that doesn't exist anymore due to economic progress.

I saw my friends last night. Not all of them, but enough to keep me safe in the fact that I am loved. I get that in the Twin Cities as well, but Indy has a sort of magnetic pull towards the wistful for me. Is that a thing? I am going to make it one if it isn't.
Pants breaks my heart with cuteness. I didn't get to see Adam, and i know I will be freaked out by how big he is when i see him next. They grow so fast is so accurate. Cliche, but accurate.

I saw a post secret today that said 'I want to get my next Christmas tree with you' It made me very sad. Might be one of those holidays, you know?

And yes, I noticed that this post isn't going anywhere as well. And yet you keep reading in the hopes that I will start talking about my trip... Read on.

My father moved to Michigan the other day. It has been a clusterfuck of emotion. Trying to deal with a parent who is having a latter day crisis is just like i said: It's trying.
I don't recall if I wrote about what went down that gets us to me heading back to Minneapolis.
Here is the short version in regards to today:

Male parent left for California for a gold rush 151 years too late.
Same parent purchased a home on the shores of lake Huron. one of the lesser of the great lakes, but no slouch when it comes to bodies of water.
I was called into service because of my heavy lifting skills and ability to pack boxes and knick knacks like it's a giant game of tetris.
I arrive in Indianapolis.
We pack.
We drive a Uhaul truck to the Thumb of Michigan's lower Peninsula.
We unload the goods in a garage attached to the home that sits on the lake that the parent bought. he bought the house, not the lake. I thought I made that clear. You are not paying attention.
We stay in a motel that night because the house has not officially been purchased. He closes the deal and signs papers on Tuesday.
The motel is from 1959, and the heat does not work properly.
We drive back to Indy.
I start to feel like I won't see my father again for a very long time.
I get a ride to irvington, where I spend the night in the house I had spent 5 months of self exploration, discovery, heartache and growth. It has only been a months since I had slept there. Almost to the day.
I internalize all sighs and the need to scream 'I miss you and need you all in my life more than I ever let on'
Pants tells me where her nose, ears, chin and hair are and grabs my necklace one last time. She probably won't do that the next time I see her. They grow so fast. She gives me a kiss goodnight, and I know it is because she misses me. I miss her too. Her parents don't suck, either.

James gives me a lift downtown before he goes to his Naval reserve day. I am at a Dunkin Donuts, and I am about to go to Chicago.

Seriously, though. Your Mom is Chicago (is not) Chicago.
That soul Coughing song is running through my head almost constantly for the last two hours.
I am on my 3rd cup of coconut coffee, and I think about who I wish were here drinking it with me. I fear I may be starting to move on.

There's much more I want to talk about, but I don't want to bore you.

Monday Night Comedy Show is tomorrow at 8pm. Audience numbers are down. Foolish to think we could sustain opening night numbers. Going to need to start a guerrilla marketing campaign. That, or change it to a bible study show.

One more cup of coffee, then I leave.

Happy Sunday, alright?

Stay Awesome, or the Titans will beat the Colts and other football references that sound awkward coming from me.
Andy

When in Illinois, one must blog about it. and I saved a kid.

2009-12-01T07:17:00.000-08:00

Chicago.
A love/hate relationship if there ever was. I love to hate this town.
I keep hoping someone will show me a good time in this burg, and I came really close when I was at nick Vogt's wedding a few years ago. Lisa and Jenny were there, so life was about as perfect as Chicago allows. I remember riding the train feeling like ass because I was sad that two of my closest were on the road going the opposite direction from me.
The nearest I had felt that way was when I was on the train coming back to Minneapolis earlier in November.
And that's another thing: It is now December 1st. Your Mom is December 1st. I am NOT impressed so far, and we are nine and a half hours in.
I am sitting in the Union Station Caribou Coffee. The nice lady behind the counter told me how much she liked my scarf, and i told her without hesitation that my friend Lisa made it for me in about 20 minutes. I think the Minnesota has infected me again when in other cities. This lady doesn't know Lisa. Nor will she ever know Lisa. Unless I am completely engulfed by the Scandinavian madness and invite her down to Indy for a weekend getaway. This lady was rather attractive. And she smiled when I was being silly. Fine. I will add the bagel and shmeer for a dollar. I am such a sucker.

I remember LeighLeigh telling people she could sell a ketchup Popsicle to an Eskimo wearing white gloves on a hot summer day. I don't need that kind of salesperson. I just need some cute girl who reaches about six feet and smells like coffee. Oh, and she wore those Lisa Loeb glasses. yeah...
So see you later, folks. I am living in the Caribou Coffee just off the canal until my sanity returns.

And we're back.

So my breakfast with an old friend didn't work out today. She was on her way, then called into a meeting in a suburb. Maybe Sunday. It's only been two years...Whats another six days?

So what else can I tell you? Don't take megabus? Ok. Don't do that. yeah it's cheap, but you get what you pay for.
It would be a horse of a different color if they would make the driver tell the people to form a fucking line. Just start a cue. that's all. it's like a Kohls on Black Monday every time they start loading. And let me tell you, I really hate line cutters.
They are like locust people. Locust people from space who eat babies.
Oh, speaking of babies, some little kid totally fell out of his seat in the middle of the night. Right in front of me.
And I saved him.
I always sit on teh lower level of the double decker bus because I don't like people who ride the bus (read:I don't like myself) Anyhow, this little guy was sitting with his mom, and she was asleep. He woke up and started exploring. he was a little less than two. I can never tell. AnniePants looks like she's 17 already. they grow so fast...
They are sitting on the opposite side of the aisle and those seat are a bit more elevated. Kid is sitting on the outside seat (bad parenting) and sits up and leans over the armrest.
And keeps leaning. like a Lemur.
Just over the edge. I'm seeing this in slow motion, and the older lady next to me shifts suddenly because she sees him too.
Activate robot ninja reflexes.
the kid is going headfirst onto the aisle of the megabus, but I fucking catch him! Can you dig that hot shit?!
I was really proud of myself, and I could tell that the old lady was too, but she just let out a whispered 'Whew'
The Mom woke up and grabbed her son and strapped him into the seat. She did give me this look like I was really trying to steal him and take his youth. Whatever. I am an unsung hero today. The little guy would have really hurt himself. Your welcome, sleepy inattentive mom. If I was falling over the edge of a ravine (metaphor for Bus aisle) you can bet that my Mom would be there to catch me. AND she would have a hallmark card. And it would have a dollar for every year I have been alive inside. just saying, my mom is ever vigilant. also, your cell phone makes too much noise when you text. Turn that shit off. MY mom doesn't even know what texting is.
I digress.
Another bit that was strange was that he made NO SOUND WHATSOEVER. His creepy silence leads me to believe he is the next incarnation of the Buddha, and is wise beyond his years. But The Buddha would not topple over an armrest for no reason whatsoever but to teach me a lesson in humility or respect for life or something deep. Maybe he just wanted the mean old lady sitting next to me to talk to me. Seriously. I said hello. I even offered her some beef jerky. Whatever. I am a kid saver and I earned a place in nirvana. Not the band. The Ethereal plane where badass heroes go when they are killed on a megabus headed to chicago.

So yeah. I thought that that would be a great opener for a trip to Indianapolis.
I feel accomplished. Maybe December will be a good karma month.

Ok. I have to down this wretched coffee and catch my connector to Indy.
Catch you on the flip.

Stay Awesome or I won't say 'Bless you' when you sneeze.
Andy

#1 Crush

2009-11-29T17:20:00.000-08:00

I like it when i am riding the bus and we pass another bus going the opposite direction. The drivers always wave to each other as if to say 'I know. We're driving a ticking timebomb filled with people, and no one knows we have so much power. Also, today sucks. Stick with it'

It makes me smile every time.

I was overserved last night and didn't make it home until 5:30am

I can only blame myself. i believe moderation is the name of the game for a good long while.

As per usual, I am worried about show attendance. Numbers are dropping off, and I know it has just been two weeks and I am super critical of everything ever in the world, but I canna' help it.
I will be trying a new bit next week(not tomorrow)
If it works, it will become a weekly thing.
if it fails, then i can still say i tried, and that is the spirit of the show.
I worry(what else is new?) that it is too similar to the King Lear incident of 2008.
However, this will only be about 5 minutes out of everyone's day, and I am always the first in line to acknowledge a miserable idea. Stay tuned for an update.

So i am sitting here at the coffeehouse writing this. On the stereo is the Romeo & Juliet soundtrack. Yeah. the Baz Luhrman (spelling?) one.
I think it so great when music can transport you to a certain time and place. This music in particular takes me to the driver's seat of my 1986 Toyota Tercell wagon. I loved that car. It was my first ride. It looked like a shuttlecraft from star trek. With ample room for doing naughty teenage things when you put the back seat down.
I'm driving in my car and it's winter in indiana. Which you can't really tell apart form any other part of year because there is never much snow, but this year there was. The Winter of 1997. I was working at Old Navy. I just got the cd after watching the moview ith a friend of mine, but sadly, i cannot tell you who I saw it with. Aaron maybe? I know I saw Austin Powers with him. same thing if you think about it...
it was probably LeighLeigh. She was always into Shakespeare like I was.
I was still 18 that winter. Whole world ahead and nowhere to go but up.
I still hate Old Navy, but their clothes are comfy. I will give them that.
I wonder if I was still with Kate? Not sure. I do know our relationship ended the night we saw Jerry McGuire. Where this is going, i have no idea. there are times where I am lost thinking about random moments. right now is one of them.
Going to The Abbey for tea that always went cold before you could finish the pot.
Sitting at the gazebo, smoking and talking about this and that with her or him or they.
I liked being 18, I think. Just turning 19 when the Summer would be in full swing.
There was a night where Leigh and Aaron and I were just being together. It could have been one of the last times. the last of the perfect parts of my youth in Carmel. I remember the pain of missing Aaron when he went off to school. And Leigh, while she was always around, we ended up not talking for a while because of some moronic argument that didn't matter. And of course, we would have more as the years went on. Hell, one lasted 7 years.
The sparkly things that distract me are many, dear reader. I was talking about something...
Oh yeah.
I had this Toyota Tercel wagon once.
Shiny Shiny Shiny.

I think that if I had nights to get back and re-live, it would be the ones I haven't spent yet with my friends.

Tomorrow is the show. the weekly show. No time for love, Dr. jones.

Stay Awesome until the pie cools.

Andy

ps: The MNCS is now on that twitter thing because Aaron made me. I swore I would never do it, but he insists on making this show some sort of success or something.
Follow us @ MNCShow

and please look at our swanky website that he has been working hard on. Still not done because i am a failure at deadlines and things needing completion. Soon, though. Soon.

Andybear's natural habitat: A Studebaker.

2009-11-27T20:52:00.000-08:00

I had something to say. But…
Good Gods. I mean seriously, for the love of Odin and all thos cats who sit on thrones in Asgaard.
I just deleted a big chunk of very emo material. It had things to do with Black Friday and how I don't have anyone to shop for.
And while I do have a need for a new coffeemaker since sometime over the Summer, my darling eldest sister decided it would be a good idea to steal a few consumer grade appliances, I will not be going to walmart to buy one for $3. Nor will I be buying electronic hamster toys. WTF, people. WTF?
But back to the melancholy tone of what will never be read... I gotta get over myself. This will not stand.
I have been trying to be more social lately. Not in a 'cruising for ass' way, but more of a networking way. Or more true to point: a 'Get out and stop being awkward around people, you stupid ass, you used to be rather outgoing' kind-of-way.
I go to Comedy shows, I laugh at the things my talented friends say into microphones, and I end up just sitting there being quiet. It is very frustrating. I feel like I did lose that certain something that is obvious when i look in a mirror.
Sitting there being quiet/ At a bar? At comedy shows, no less?
I am ashamed, and my inner self is screaming to come out and take out a baseball bat to my head and take over my body again.
But talk is cheap, and actions require planning and strategems and hemming and hawing and this and that and my head is about to fucking elplode all over my tiny computer that looks like it has candy in it.

Argh.

Argh, I say to you.

I will try to be more outgoing in the next few days. I will then update you on my progress. in the most shameful and self depricating way that only I know how to do...

What else? Oh yes. stuff. loads of it.

When last we met, i was about to go co-announce a NorthStar RollerGirl bout with my buddy Aaron Connor, aka- Grizzly Madden.
The bout was a sanctioned thing in the skateland or ville on Burnsville (not Burnland. Though it would be funny to me)
The Nothstar ladies were taking on the Hammer City Rollergirls from Somewhere in Canada.
The Canadians had just done a bout against the MN Rollergirls the night before, which i went and saw with John, my hetero lifemate.
I fet sorry for them having to do 2 bouts in less than a day. The bout in Burnsville was at 10am.
we got there very early and I was introduced to some people, but once again, my social awfulness shined through and i was much more quiet. I think Aaron picked up on it too, since around him i am Captain VeryFunnyMan. He kept asking me if I was ok.
The bout was fun, per usual. you have to love seeing athletic women knock each other around.
There wasn't much of an audience, though. In fact, the only ones watching were other skaters and/or significant others. Grizz and i were not needed at all, but I have a sneaking suspicion that since it was a sanctioned bout and counted towards ranking, they wanted announcers there to make the Hammer City girls feel like it was just like any other bout...Without a huge cheering crowd.
And then, of course, my mic didn't work. I had to share with Aaron. And that made out witty banter off. We did click a few times, but since I don't really know how to call derby, he just asked what I thought about stuff and I generally answered 'I think rollergirls are very attractive' or 'Wow. They all have skates on.' or my favorite: 'I wonder if # so and so is married or in a long term relationship. Once again, my number is 612- 961....'
Still, it was great fun to hang out with Aaron. We used to work at Bobby bead together. And the last time we really saw each other is when i flashed my junk onstage at the BNW during a show.
Ahhh. memories...

One moment please as I get picked up for an adventure with my dear friend Haugie. We are traveling to darkest Shakopee to test our mettle against the machine that is the casino.
And through the power of time travel, I am back.
To you it has been but a whisper of a moment. To me, it has been a few hours of hitting rock bottom. At least I had company.
I should learn, I know. The house always wins. But there are those little moments of victory where your .05 cent bet turns into .20 cents and your eyes start to spin and you get kind of turned on by the prospect of being able to buy your next girlfriend a house on your first date.
But the house always wins.
The house won about $30 from me tonight.
The house can suck a dick. Good thing they don’t rely on me coming once every six months to drop coin.

So I am back from the casino to lick my wounds and add some hilarious comedic fodder to my ever growing stand up set. Sadly, the set is revised and rewritten so much that it will be three years before I get up on stage. But there is always MNCS. She will always stand by me and encourage me to try harder.
If only I ever would listen…
So the website is looking pretty good. I have been assigned many a task to send out to Aaron G in New York to make it better and funnier.
Instead of doing that, I go to the casino and learn valuable lessons in personal finance.
Perhaps tomorrow I will get the ass in gear that needs to be in gear to make everyone on the interweb happy.
I have been updating our twitter account as often as I remember. You can follow the adventures of the show at
MNCShow

Aaron set it up for us, even though I promised I would never use twitter. I am very good at lying, people. Lying and breaking promises. Very important promises like using or not using Twitter.
To forgive is divine. Remember. And it’s not like we are dating. Not anymore. We just totally broke up.

On Monday we will be celebrating our 103rd show. Or Season 3 Episode 3. After the show, which will start promptly at 8pm whether people are there or not, I leave for Indianapolis. I will arrive in Chicago at 6:30 in the after meridian. Stay in the city that breaks my soul for a few hours and go to Indy at 11.
When I arrive in Indy, I will start helping my father pack up his worldly possessions into a moving truck and we will drive to his new home in Eastern Michigan. Overlooking beautiful (albeit polluted) Lake Huron.
My only request to him was that I didn’t miss one of my shows.
So to all you people of the Indianapolis persuasion: I’m coming back.
And to all of you who think it’s too soon: I agree with you.
But my Dad needs help, and I am always looking to gain his favor.

I have some play ideas that I am toying with like a ball of yarn. One is about junk mail, and the other is still that Morning radio show thing I have been talking about for months. Fringe signup is coming fast. I have to have a solid idea before I apply.

Ok. I’m done. I will be on facebook as soon as this is posted to see who has poked me, and who I am deleting from my friends list because they did not poke me.

Incidentally, I am writing this in my ‘new’ office. The place where each one of my computers lives. It is very posh, and my rolly chair rolls to each station like a dream. I am spinning right now. Can you tell? I love my rolly chair. It’s the little things. At least I am not typing this on a pile of clean clothes that need to be folded anymore. As said outloud today to no one in particular: ‘Progress. Today is all about progress’

Stay Awesome and find your inner me.

Andy

Breaking news

2009-11-18T15:34:00.000-08:00

This just in:

My friend Aaron Connor AKA:Grizzly Madden is one of the announcers for the NorthStar Roller Girls. He called me up today to ask if I wanted to help him announce a bout this Sunday morning.

Um. yeah.

Sadly, it is a private bout for some reason, so it isn't open to the public. I wish i could invite everyone i know. That's the only bummer part, though.
Well, and I have to be awake and mostly human at 7AM on a Sunday.

But color me excited!

In other news, I went to Rick Bronson's house of Comedy last night to watch the show that Brody makes happen. There was one guy there that could have been super funny if he hadn't talked shit about how few people were in the audience. The room sits over 200, and there were at least 50+ people there. Not including performers and staff. It was a really fun room, and I saw some of my friends perform. Bill young & Bryan Miller had great sets. Gabe Noah isn't so much a friend as he is an acquaintance. But he is one very funny guy. I'm going to go again next week.
I suggest you do the same.

it has been brought to attention that I am hitting the Comedy Circuit pretty hard since I have been back.
I just want to support the once who always say yes to performing at MNCS. Without them, it would be a pretty dull show.
But secretly, I like how inspiring these people are to me. they make me interested in writing funny stuff. Maybe one day I will perform too. Maybe...
The announcement for my first ever stand up set will be done here, so for all four of you who read this, I expect you in the audience.

Now I am headed over to The Zissou's house. (Knutson) We will sit in front of laptops and not speak to each other until the time comes when we go to Grumpy's for the Death Comedy Jam show.
10pm. And it's free. So if you like stand up, or want to hang out with me because I am elusive and hard to find: there you go.

still waiting to hear back from my Dad about a roadtrip to Indy after Turkey Day.
If that happens, I will hope to see some familiar faces in a karaoke bar.
More on that as it develops

Stay Awesome.

Andy

Less mean. But still stern.

2009-11-17T01:06:00.000-08:00

I just wrote a very scathing review on my Monday Night Comedy show.

I deleted it.

I want it out there that I liked the Stand up, the spoken word and the Sketch.

The audience was great. As usual. It was pointed out to me by a good friend and a comic that I respect a great deal: "If you bomb at the MNCS, you just suck. The audience isn't there to be assholes. They are there to laugh. They are the most supportive group in the city."

Paraphrased a little, but right on the money.

I LOVE our audience. And I promise to never expose them to shit if I can help it.

I hope that other shows start thinking about the people that come to see them more. It's why people call our show 'The Little show that could'
I am so fucking proud of that.
I am proud of our staff, our audience, and the performers that get it. That is why we keep going. And why we will be there. because one day, the 'at large' will notice why we are as good as we are.

So. Damn. Proud.

My people are the best people.

Ok. stay awesome. I am glad I didnt post that angrier one.
Available on request, though... ;)

Stay Awesome.
Andy

Monday Nights are made for lovers

2009-11-15T23:02:00.000-08:00

It is now Monday.
Monday the 16th of November.
That means it is the start of our 3rd season at The MNCS.
Doors will open at 7:30pm and the show starts at 8:00pm

Tickets are now $4
But tonight we will ask if you have one of our nice new flyers. The ones that give you a dollar off admission.

When you say 'No, i don't have one' We will say this:
'Well you must have left it at home or something. Here, take this one and use it the next time you come.'
Then the people will get in for $3 tonight. Because we are crazy marketing monkeys.

Speaking of, the website is now live!

www.mondaynightcomedyshow.com

Aaron Gwirtz is responsible for making it go. And once I send him more info, he will add more content.
But I am VERY excited for this step up. And my thanks to Both Aaron for the website and Jen Zalar for the flyers knows no limits.

The facebook event page says there will be 61 people attending, but take away from that the ones who just say they are coming to 'support' and add the ones who don't use facebook or the ones who never look at their event invites AND THEN add all the maybe's who might be Attending... Big Fuckoff show. With lots of people.
My only concern is having enough seats.

Oh, and being funny. My confidence if off lately.
I've been joking that I lost my mojo in the war. I am partly serious.

I forgot to mention that we are on the City Pages A-list for tomorrow, too. That might garner more interest.
I think I might be nervous... That hasn't happened in a while. Awesome.

Anyway. Loads of stuff yet to do. I did an improv set with Jason kruger last night at Anodyne as part of a fundraiser. We ended up just doing Hamlet in different styles. My favourite one was doing it in the style of a Childrens Show. Nothing funnier than talking about treachery and murder while being cheerful and teaching how to spell
M-E-L-A-N-C-H-O-L-Y

At any rate, I have been hungover most of the day.
But due to my power nap when I got home, I will not be sleeping for several more hours.

Hey. I miss you.
Stay Awesome,
Andy

Now for something a bit more positive. albeit veiled in whistfulness.

2009-11-12T00:30:00.000-08:00

It's been a week.

I gave myself a present of one week to just mess around and not do too much. Sort of re-acclimate myself to the steady constant drumming of Minne, meaning Water & Polis, meaning city.

Water city. Water world. Where dry land is a myth. (for Linds)
I'm not going to lie: It was quite a change. Minneapolis is my home. It's where my Mom and Sisters live. Where I have two wonderful nieces and a wonderful nephew. It's where the heart is, and where my hat is hung. So why is it that I still have this nagging bit in the back of my mind that I don't have a home? I am not sad to be back. not by any stretch. The 'welcome homes' that I have received have been many and heartfelt. I have even more people that I still haven't seen yet, and i look forward to the hugs they will offer. I missed so many people. But I have a list of folks that I just wish were here too.
I want to watch my AnniePants grow up. I want to learn to play Warcraft under the strict guidance of James. I need that quiet glass of wine and talking about everything on the porch under the orange glow of lights with Lisa. I want to hear about how Lindsay's Mom totally LOVES me from Lindsay. I wish that Fingers was here to tell me about some gutbusting burger he had on the way to work. I want to talk Doctor Who theories with Andrew. I miss my Glee Wednesday nights over at Jenny's house. I want to watch Adam start to walk. And Amanda. There is so much more I want to share with her.
There are plenty more people who affect me there, but those are my dorch gang. My people. It wasn't the best Summer of my german hemmingway, but it wasn't the worst. There were ups and downs and things I am wont to forget. But there are those other moments that defined the word 'amazing', and made the word 'Perfect' is too dull to use to describe.
I swam in the ocean this Summer. I sat on the front porch of the house I knew when I was fresh from the hospital. I saw two friends work hard to egt into nursing school. I was involved in a fantastic musical about Edgar Allen Poe's greatest hits. I tried cutting my own hair to the dismay of everyone. I danced like it was the first time. And I cried like it was the end of the world when it was all over. I saw some shit this summer. But I also lived a little bit.

I'm not a perfect man. I am far from it. I do know my limitations, and I accept my shortcomings. It is this that makes me still have hope for the future. And i have it in spades. I know that nothings gonna break my stride, and if I died tomorrow, I would be so pissed off that I would have to wait to see the people I love for so long.
But wherever i was going with that will have to be continued another time. I have tomorrow to deal with. And then the next day. And so on and so on.

I am here in Minneapolis. As luck would have it, I brought with me from Indiana balmy weather. it has been so nice here this past week. And while I steal some neighbors interweb signal in my comfy chair at the back of my garage, I am not freezing my ass off while I type this.

I wasn't in minneapolis long before I was whisked away to Winona, MN to celebrate Mandy's 21st Birthday. My sister Amy drove us down, and it was nice because the last road trip we had together was in 1987 when she drove me back home to Minneapolis from a Month long stay in Indy as was some mysterious custody decree that I am still a bit fuzzy on.
Amy is a wonderful sister, and we never fall short of things to talk about. We tried to keep the visit a surprise for Mandy, who asked that we come the following day to visit.
The look on her face was priceless, and let me tell you: nothing makes you feel old like drinking with 21 year olds in a college town in a college bar.

What else have I done?
Yard work for my Mom. She insists on raking leaves before all the leaves have fallen.
I love her anyway.
I went to see some local Comedy shows. I am trying to do that more. Not as a networking thing, but as a 'you come to mine, I'll come to yours' thing. The show is very improtant to me, and i know that comes through with how I host, but I think it's important to show the talent that says yes to performing that I really do appreciate them. without them, it would just be me up there saying stupid unrehearsed things as audience members quickly file out and set the building on fire.
So I went to The Corner Bar to see the Comedy Underground open Mic.
Then I went to ACME for their open mic.
And tonight I went to Grumpy's for the Death Comedy Jam.
I might be going to Rochester tomorrow to see a show there. It all depends if the Zissou ends up going. I hope he does. I hear that Amber Preston might be there... ;)
hahaahhahahahahha.
Meanwhile...
On Sunday I spent the whole day dressed up as a vampire and hanging out with my best friend John. Probably the best way to spend a Sunday. I have pictures to post on facebook. I looked ridiculous.
And very bloody. And very, VERY sticky.

My friend Aaron Gwirtz offered to host the MNCS website on his site. he is also doing a million dollars worth of work with it. The site should be up and running by Monday at the very latest. I am so grateful to everyone who helps me with the show. Their infectious enthusiasm toward something that I hold so dear is again one of those 'If I die Tomorrow, it will all be worth it' kind of things. What with Jen and the flyer/logo design or Katy and all the photos she takes, or linds; Roni; Zissou and WonderDave. I sometimes feel like a magnet for rockstars. there ought to be a law... (anyone? true Stories? Lisa feels me...)
So yeah. website for the show of shows, and speaking of, we have a neat little season 3 opener this Monday night at 8pm That's the 16th of November, and it seems like only yesterday that I was getting th go ahead from Joel to start booking acts.
Today in the City Pages (Nuvo equivelant for Indy folks) we are listed in the A-List.
Th write up by my friend and great comic Bryan Miller is fantastic. You can see a link to it on my facebook page.
I know I gloat and rant and rave and pull my hair out over this show. I know you might be sick of hearing me talk about it. But I really think it's something special. And one of the only nights of the week where you get to see a tiny glimpse of who I was at a much younger age. The guy who hosts the show is very similar to that guy who somehow made friends with Jenny and Lisa all those years ago. That means nothing to you, but the world to me. And once again, it's my party and I'll bla bla bla if I want to.
So if you get the chance to see show number 101, I hope you come early to get a good seat.

If you are reading this, know that I miss you, so you should probably write me or call me. I'll try to do the same.

Stay Awesome till the sun explodes.

Andy

And part two goes something like this

2009-11-04T09:18:00.000-08:00

Nothing could ever prepare me.
Not one thing in my life.
I have hurt before, and I will hurt again, but this is a new one for me and I was just floored.
Amanda dropped me off this morning.
we got to Union Station, or whatever they call the big train place in downtown Indy these days.
I was worried that I wouldn't get to see her before I left. She slept through three of her alarms.
Ironically, the train that passes by Irvington each morning was the thing that woke her up.
That is Ironic, right? It isn't Alanis Morrissette Ironic I hope.
Anyway, she came through.
It was a bittersweet ride there. Not much for way of talking on either of our parts. What was there to say?
She started crying first.
I'm proud that I held my stuff together and actually had a brave face on. For a few moments, at least.
What I wanted to happen was for her to drive away. I didn't want her to see me walking away. Leaving.
People have issues with leaving.
Being left.
I'm not just leaving her, I'm leaving everyone here. I hate that.
I might not be around, but I am always available in some medium. I have to work on proving that.
I still don't know what I'm doing when it comes to anything ever, but today I think i made the hardest step.
I was tearing up at the ticket counter when i exchanged my tickets for the 10,000th time.
I was tearing up when i texted her a final 'I love you' text. My last, I promise.
I was calming down for a bit and just staring off into space, kneading my bottom lip, which is what I do when I am about to explode. Not many people know that about me.
then the train moved.
At 6:01am, Indianapolis time.

I thought I might die.
Everything came to me at once. I know people think like I enjoy drama and being sad or broody. So not true.
I don't like it. If you like it, you are fucked up.
I don't think I am fucked up, just slightly broken.

I found myself thinking over and over again that I can NEVER be in this position again.
I can't feel like I did the moment the huge train lurched towards Chicago.

Maybe I am fucked up.

So I am in Chicago. I have called Lisa and Amanda called me just a few moments ago. it is about to be lunch time here, so the food court is crowded and some guy is sitting next to me who is wearing a pink shirt and has fiery fake red hair. I like to think his last name is Weasley and he is thinking about an upcoming Quidditch match. But in reality he is eating some LeeAnn Chin knock off. And it looks good.

The Mascot, Tyler will be visiting me for a few before my train leaves. I'm going to try and get some pics to show the MNCS that he is alive and well in the Windy City.

This coffee is terrible. Avoid Corner Bakery Cafe. They eat babies like Congo. (That was for Leigh)

Stay Awesome. I will write more when Minneapolis happens. Or maybe when i freak out and realize there is nothing in Chicago that I want to do because I am stuck in Union Station... Maybe I will reenact some Untouchable scenes. THATS The Chicago way...

Andy

Thoughts on this and that Part One.

2009-11-03T23:13:00.000-08:00

I am sitting alone in the house that has served as my home for the last five months.
Lisa and Pants are upstairs. Pants is sleeping, and I am sure Lisa is trying to.
I was packing things up and trying to be really quiet, but i dropped a cassette tape on the floor and it shattered. Well, the case shattered. The NKOTB tape is just fine, thank the gods.
I feel bad. It was really loud.

So like I said, two out of a handful of my favourite people on the planet are no more than 20 feet away from me, and I already feel like it might as well be a million.
Today I had to say goodbye to Fingers, Jenny, Adam and Judy.
The last few days have been a series of 'lasts' Only noticed because I am overly aware of melodramatic things due to my unstable nature of hypersensitivity. (And yes, i did try and say that three times fast.)
You notice things when changes are about.
I noticed the taste of the air just before I left Indy ten years ago. It was foggy then. And cold.
Tonight it is just cold. But the taste is the same. I've never been good with describing taste. It is a very personal thing, I think. That, or I am a terrible writer who cannot understand adjectives.
I've noticed more tonight about the house I have lived in for five months than in all the nights combined. I'm missing it to death, and I am still in the dining room.

I wonder if I am not allowed a permanent home because I am already plotting a way to get back here in January.
I'm going to miss Thanksgiving here. And I'll miss Christmas. New years will come and go without me setting foot in Indy.
I am sure I will have a fine time just the same, but you know me and my penchant for the wistful.
last year I was a different person. Well, maybe just a person with different circumstances.
I wonder if I will miss it more because I am sad about leaving, or if I am sad about all the things I know i will miss?
I want to watch pants open up presents.
I want to see Adam do the same.
I like it when they hold hands because they are exploring the idea of someone just as small being just as curious.
I will miss hearing the 'I'm Thankful for's' that come out of the big jar that lisa will be holding on the stairs.
I will not be able to make a stupid amount of my marshmallow fluff for my gang.
And for some reason, that's the thing that got me. Just now. my eyes welled up.
What the fuck is wrong with me?

Maybe it's best to not think about the things I am going to miss, but the things that I am taking away with me. This was to be The Summer of my German Hemmingway. Still a clever title, I feel, but sadly a failed one. In certain senses.
Don't read into that as me thinking all this shit is bullshit shit. Not even a bit.
I'm coming out stronger.
Maybe a bit more independent. (but for me, that word is another way of saying lonely. I like team efforts.)

I think it's time I talk about those things being taken away. weren't you ready for that like three pages ago?
Right. Sorry.

This Summer was a writing Summer. Yeah. Not so much.
It was a time where I met new people and made great friends. And I built better relationships with ones I had already. I found out what I wanted this Summer. I really did.
Now, telling you what I want out of Life, The Universe and Everything would spoil the surprise.
Not that it is a really big shocker. People who know me, know.
Anyway, that line of fate was sort of derailed. Ok. It was derailed like a freight train. But I still have hope that another opportunity will come any year now.
Hope is something I HAVE to keep. Silly word, Hope is, But it keeps me from thinking all is lost. And it prevents me from wearing black lipstick and guyliner.
I'm taking home the smiles of a sweet little girl who i watched grow up this Summer. That makes me want to get back to the cities and see how much Annika and Parker have sprouted up.
My Brother's kids are another story altogether. I wish they didn't live so far away.
I think i like traveling to see people, this is new.
It isn't that I like road trips. I did have a couple this Summer, and they were great, but I am still not a fan of the auto.

More later. I have to catch a train bound for nowhere.
By nowhere, I mean Chicago.

To be continued.

goes one way, then the other.

2009-10-29T23:12:00.000-07:00

I did it. it's official.
I changed my ringtone. And it is so cool.
I hope for your sake you are next to me when I get a call.

Speaking of official things:

I am the proud owner of www.mondaynightcomedyshow.com

Since I am of the poor persuasion these days, I don't have the cash to actually make a site that works. maybe soon, though. I just need some corporate sponsors and a benefactor.
Sadly, that will have to wait since I lost all my charm and charisma in the war.

The Show looks like it is shaping up so far.
Bookings are full for the first two weeks back, and the 30th of November is almost done too.
WonderDave is going gangbusters with the booking of amazing spoken word and slam acts. He has people well into the first of the year.
Such a showoff.

On a more somber note, I have been taking stock of things lately. Trying to figure out what my problem is. Why i feel like I can do very little right, and how to get that spring in my step that used to be there.
Consider the last ten years of my life.
On second thought, think of ten years ago and then think of now. Or recently, as it were.
Ten years ago was 1999.
Now-ish is 2009.

Math lesson over.

Where was I then? I was moving to Indianapolis to be with someone I loved very much.
Where am I this year? Or more to the point: What was I doing a few months ago up until what seems recent, but isnt? I moved to Indianapolis to be with someone I loved very much.

There is a very scary parallel to these stories. They are both people I still love. They are people who will be in my life for a long time, I think. Well, I hope.
Am I stuck in an endless loop of my own creation, or is it just a messed up coincidence?
Was Lincoln secretary named Kennedy? Was Kennedy's secretary named Lincoln?
Am I a fool who chooses the wrong fights in my head for the sake of going mad in the least amount of time?
It all boils down to me not being confident in any choice i make, so I rarely make them anymore.
The choice i make concerning love might just be my last one. But then my last one was my last one and so on and so on until I make it back to 1999.
Now that song is in my head, and all I want to do is go to sleep and not have to think about anything.
But now I am worried about everything and frustrated that I cannot control any aspect of my life aside from who I choose to have silly infatuations with that will ultimately go nowhere. It all goes nowhere, right? I'm that crazy cat lady who gets to watch everyone he has ever loved be with someone else. Or at least I am going to be. 41 year old Andrew is headed to Indianapolis yet again to watch everything he wanted turn from platinum to earthtone in a span of six months or less.
None of this make sense to you. I'm going through a process in my head.

Tonight there is a screaming 21 and 31 year old hoping that the 41 year old isn't feeling as lonely.

A

2009-10-26T14:58:00.000-07:00

Today is one of those days where there just isn't a blackout when you need one.

So I'm just going to create one for myself.

There is no such thing as a clean getaway.

More as the imbibing continues, I am sure.

Fuck today,

No clever title.

2009-10-24T12:01:00.000-07:00

The public side of Andrew is getting to be more social.
But there is a private side that just wants to sit in a room with no lights on and think about things I cannot change.
Things are getting better, though. The impending move back to Minneapolis is daunting and there are many list items that need to be addressed.
I need to ship many items back via fedex. The reason being is that my Dad gave me a huge old typewriter that he used to use for his work at Neilson. The thing is huge and works like a dream. It was serviced to mint condition seemingly moments before he set it on a shelf and never used it again. It also came with enough extra ribbon to last until typewriters come back into style.
It weighs about 100 pounds and since I am prone to calling things I like very cool names, I have named this beast The Anvil of Crom. (the former name of my defunct moped project bike...sigh)
So that bad boy is coming with me on the train.
And I am shipping almost everything else.
Which needs to happen soon, as I leave in a little more than a week.
My Gods is that coming up fast.
I really wish things had worked out the way they were going to go in my head.
I also wish that my self esteem wasn't set at zero.
These are things I need to stop worrying about and begin to love the bomb...
I am not so deluded that I think that a simple move back to the Twin Cities will automatically make everything sunshine and rainbows. It will be as much an uphill battle there as it is here.
But I have my reasons for going back, and I have to start living for ME again. And not a dream life revolving around anyone else.
There will be single-ness that I will need to strictly adhere to.
Not to say that my trust in long term relationships is gone the way of my love of Crystal pepsi or OK Soda. I still believe in love and joy and puppies and Tabasco sauce and post it notes and bottle caps. those are things I associate with dating, by the way.
I think i am going to be more cautious from now on. And I will never put myself in a position to hurt or be hurt by persons again.
Interesting thing about my time in Indy: I feel much less passive aggressive now.
This will be a Hell of a thing to take back to Minneapolis, where Passive aggression is mixed with the fluoride they put in the drinking water.
Not to say I am going to punch people more and write mean comments on facebook walls.
I'm still the me that you fell in love with. But I am most certainly not same person you fell out of love with.
Consider an Andy without reservations. that would be an interesting Andy indeed.

A post with greater detail about Indy and my people here will be coming soon.

In the meantime, the in between time, I have laundry that hasn't learned to do itself.
And I am sure you have somewhere you ought to be.

Stay Awesome

Andy

One of those things in life.

2009-10-18T17:21:00.000-07:00

Tonight I danced with a beautiful girl.
She is about two feet tall and likes crackers.
Sometimes when she thinks I am not looking, and music is playing, she swings her arms and bounces.
Her smile melts my heart.
Sometimes when I go upstairs or head outside for adventures of who knows what kind, she waves goodbye.
When I hold her, she grabs my necklace and tries to force it in my mouth. Most of the time, it is endearing.
When I am folding clothes, she helps by throwing them on the ground.
When she senses that I am sad, she will cleverly hand me some of her toys to make me feel better.
Tonight I danced with a beautiful girl.
And it was one of those moments where I felt sad that I'm going home because She is the only person I tell absolutely everything to.
She never judges or tells me that what I am feeling is wrong.
Not that others do all of the time, but this one, She's consistent.

And you have to admire consistent listening skills.

The stuff of dreams.

2009-10-14T15:54:00.000-07:00

While I am fighting the sickness of a thousand dying suns, I wanted to tell you all about this dream I had the other day.
To preface, I was laying down for a nap after being on the front porch for hours taking a gander at www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com Truly a funny site. My favourite is the captions that go with the pictures that are primarily from the early 90's when fashion stopped and was replaced by acid washed evil.
Good stuff.
So I was laying down for a long Autumn nap before I had to help move a grill with my buddy Fingers.
My friends let me sleep longer than anticipated, and it was greatly appreciated since I got to have an adventure of a curious sort with some of my childhood heroes.

I was a mother effen heimer Ghostbuster.
The child that still resides in 1985 was scratching his way to the surface. I remember going to see the first showing of this timeless classic at The Boulevard Theater in south Minneapolis (off of Lyndale and Diamond lake road. it is now a Hollywood Video, Subway and some other little bistro. but the marquee is still there. Telling me that childhood memories are easily replaced with whatever passes for 'Progress'

I found myself in a huge old mansion. I was on the top floor which looked like a cross between a warehouse used for a rehearsal for 'FAME' and the top floor of Edward Scissorhand's house. Bill Murray and I were sweeping up the years of dust and debris. Come to think about it, he was just there. I was doing all the work. While sweeping, I noticed a small spider was biting my knuckles. I am sure this means something, but I am also sure that Bill Murray not doing any work means more.
In dreams, you transition quickly into rooms and situations. This was no different. I was descending what must have been the servant's stairwell. to go see what the others were up to.
Going up the stairs at a very fast pace was Fred Beukema. A friend from Minneapolis, and one of the members of the now defunct Mime Rifle improv team.
He was wearing a white labcoat, and I asked him if he thought it was as cool as I did that we were Ghostbusters. He said that he wasn't a ghostbuster, just a token scientist. I was upset for him.

Bill Murray and I made it to the great hall of the Mansion, where the other members of the group were. In the room with them were their wives and children.
They were going through what looked to be the contents of a sizeable costume and prop collection from a large theatre. I later realized that that is what the mansion used to be: A Theatre.

I remember all the Ghostbusters being excited at all the ornate costumes. The wives were sitting there not amused.
I called out 'remember everyone, if you find any knives or swords, I call dibs'
Just then, Dan Ackroyd yelled "I found one!" he was holding up a huge battle axe.
All of the other Ghostbusters immediately held up swords and weapons of their own and were very excited. Ackroyd then threw the battle axe up to the ceiling in a swift cartoonish motion. The tip of the axe caught his beltloop and through the magic of dreams, he went up with it. The axe stuck in the ceiling, and he was dangling there like a scene from a Laurel & Hardy movie. Everyone laughed except for Ernie Hudson who was genuinely worried about his friend.

And then Lisa woke me up.

So that was my rather anti-climactic dream about Ghostbusting. But mostly sweeping floors with Bill Murray. And seeing Fred, who I haven't seen in a long time.

Did I mention that Harold Ramis only responded to the name 'Tricky'? I doubt that has any meaning at all.

In other news, I have moved my tickets with some degree of difficulty to November 4th.
I don't think there is anything more anti-climactic than that, considering my mood about it. More on that another time.

Stay Awesome,
Andy

I'm a tease...

2009-10-11T14:53:00.001-07:00

Remind me to tell you about a terrific dream I had yesterday. it was so good!

Precursor: I was a Ghostbuster. Oh you are excited!

Ever yours,

Andy

Now dig this.

2009-10-08T14:40:00.000-07:00

A writer apparently writes. I am told this by many dear friends who want me to better myself and get out of this cloudy funk I have been in for the past Summer.
Now it is fall.
With Fall comes the staying indoors almost all of the time, watching paint dry or catching up on shows via Hulu.
I have been getting out more the last few days. Being social has taken away a lot of time I usually devote to brooding.
My break up with Amanda had a huge toll on me. And now she has officially moved on, so I need to follow suit.
Unfortunately, I still care a great deal for her and have the whole 'living next door' thing going on. I know I want her to be a part of my life, but most understand the need to keep a distance after a split. If only to actually achieve a level of friendship. Ours has been strained. I know it's a two way thing, but I am prone to take it all on my shoulders.
Not healthy, I know.
Fuck it. I can talk till I'm blue int eh face about it, but it boils down to me finally understanding/accepting that I can do not one blasted thing about what went wrong with us.
I'm moving on. Slowly and with unsure footing. Recently, I had to come to terms with this at about 100 miles an hour. Which is pretty fast if you are used to running only 25 minute miles.
I'm taking a lot of things with me from this Summer in Indiana. One is a diminished trust for relationships, which is good, since I don't want one for a while. Of course, people say this, and then hop right into one. Hopefully I can be strong and stick to my guns. It sounds worse than it is. But I have a penchant for the dramatic...
And yes, I am going back home. The flip flop and sudden clarity amidst foggy judgment is done. I will not talk about this anymore. The moving/living/staying/going thing.
I may delve into feelings and heartache on occasion, but I trust anyone who reads this is used to me by now.

But yeah. I feel like a fuckup. My own doing, I know. I decide how I feel.
I'm going to be back in Minneapolis hopefully within a month. (early November)
Whether or not I can still do the MNCS at the Beat remains to be seen. Kepp your fingers crossed that I haven't burned any bridges with Joel by being gone when i have said I would be back. I am also worried about people in MN who are sick of my indecisive bullshit. I suppose those who are done with me are the ones not worth it. But I do so like being liked... Or 'Like Liked' My gods, am I insatiable or what?
Also, I will be needing a job, so if you have any leads or are hiring someone yourself, please keep me in mind.
I am trying to not look at this as a tail between my legs thing.
This is positive, and very badly needed.
I don't really care for how I have handled things here, nor my attitude about much of anything.
Lisa says it isn't a geographical thing, and I know it isn't. But this has become, for me, a geographical thing. I am complex with many many layers of drama. Much like an onion who only does Mamet plays.

I did just get off the phone with Joel. So there is an edit to be made.
The 3rd season of The Monday Night Comedy show will be taking place on November 16th.
I'm going to go celebrate now, because it's been a while since I have looked forward to something I really really needed.
Maybe things are looking up.

I will be remembering what it means to Stay Awesome.

More soon,
Andy

And so we move ever onward...

2009-09-25T20:26:00.000-07:00

I am non confrontational by nature. Maybe it came from being Minnesotan. Maybe it came from living with My Dad during the years when I should have been fighting and cussing and gettin' bloodied up and wrastlin' bears. I just don't fight well.
I can sign petitions till my fingers are wobbly, and I can click a facebook application that somehow magically makes rainforests grow back or makes people realize that punching kids is wrong. I can actually click those apps longer than I can sign petitions.
I don't remember protesting anything in my life. I mean the kind you go to and hold a sign and chant a rhyming couplet that is both clever and thought provoking.
Maybe I don't go looking for things like that.
I heard that North Central High School is mounting a production of 'The Laramie Project'
That is the play based on the murder of Matthew Shephard, who in 1998 was killed because he was homosexual.
He was a victim of a hate crime, which I think is a ridiculous label for any kind of crime. He was murdered. That is a bad enough crime. You don't have to qualify it.
His Mother probably doesn't think much about the 'why he's dead' but much more the 'he is dead'
Her loss was 11 years ago, and this play about the townsfolk reaction to his murder (I have not seen it) is still making people think about how awful people can be to each other because of differences.
It is also being protested. Or rather, has been protested as of thursday afternoon.
apparently there is a church in Kansas that is all about hating things because they string up phrases from the bible and take them as literal truth. With unwavering devotion. Anyway, this group of churchy zealots travel all across the country holding up signs that say awful things.
Things like 'God Hates Fags' and 'Matthew Shephard is Burning in Hell' They also have ones that say Obama is the Beast, but I don't think that has anything to do with being gay...
Every once in a while you try and wrap your head around why people are the way they are. Obviously it has a lot to do with parenting. Kids don't really have a say in what religion they are a part of, their parents make the choice for them.
It must be the same way with hate.
I am really really glad my folks didn't hate anyone. I can't remember any point in my life where I heard anything mean come from my Mom. And while I lived with how intimidating my Father was, he didn't spout off racist comments or tell me I shouldn't be friends with certain people. I feel lucky because I have to make a conscious choice to dislike someone, But it is never about what color their skin is, or who their heart chooses to love. I dislike people because they are fucking assholes.
But you, I'm pretty sure you are alright.
If I ever am lucky enough to have children (not looking too good for your 31+ hero), I would hope that that is one trait I could pass to them. And it isn't like it would be a hard thing. It would really suck to have a racist kid, because then they would fall under that whole 'Fucking asshole' category.
Also, every racist person I have ever met is physically unattractive. I would have good looking tolerant children.
I felt I was going somewhere with that. Sorry for losing the choo choo of thought.

In other news, I am Roller Derby crazy.
Lisa, pants and I went to the farmer's market a couple weeks ago and wandered into the big building that serves as the nerve center of Ellenberger park. There was a Roller derby practice going on for the Circle City Socialites. I loved going to MN Rollergirl bouts with John, and a couple of Northstar Bouts with Haugie and Linds. I missed it. If you get a chance, you should go.
It was a closed practice, so one of the refs skated over and kicked us out. But before he did, I chatted him up and found that there is a Men's league that is taking novice skaters. And that is SO me. I cannot skate at all. But I am willing to fall as many times as it takes to eventually fuck some shit up. And that is ironic, because as stated earlier, I am non confronty. Yet here I am waning to be on a team sport. The geeky theatre kid in me cries alone in the night...
Sadly, this all costs money that selling plasma will not finance.
So the job hunt continues, and one more lofty idea is placed on a shelf next to unread books and letters that deserve replies.

In personal news, I am still single and looking for absolutely nothing to change that. I feel like I should be on the prowl, but think that it's best I am alone to think about shit and why I am the way I am and write blogs about nothing in particular. I hear chicks dig that. And scars...

As per usual, Stay Awesome.

Andy

Huh. That's odd.

2009-09-17T13:34:00.000-07:00

The new post is below the last one. i don't know how that happened, and i am sure I cannot do it again.

Later...

A promise.

2009-09-16T09:24:00.000-07:00

I swear by the moon and the stars and the sky that I will post tomorrow.
I have one in the works, but you know me as the guy who takes days and weeks to produce little content.

And in the end, you get no quality or content.

This is my promise to you.

here is something to keep you busy:

Romeo & Juliet by Dire Straits

A lovestruck romeo sings a streetsus serenade
Laying everybody low with me a lovesong that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight steps out of the shade
Says something like you and me babe how about it ?

Juliet says hey its romeo you nearly gimme a heart attack
Hes underneath the window shes singing hey la my boyfriends back
You shouldnt come around here singing up at people like that
Anyway what you gonna do about it ?

Juliet the dice were loaded from the start
And I bet and you exploded in my heart
And I forget the movie song
When you wanna realise it was just that the time was wrong juliet ?

Come up on differents streets they both were streets of shame
Both dirty both mean yes and the dream was just the same
And I dreamed your dream for you and your dream is real
How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals ?

Where you can fall for chains of silver you can fall for chains of gold
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold
You promised me everything you promised me think and thin
Now you just says oh romeo yeah you know I used to have a scene with him

Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above Ill love you till I die
Theres a place for us you know the movie song
When you gonna realise it was just that the time was wrong juliet ?

I cant do the talk like they talk on tv
And I cant do a love song like the way its meant to be
I cant do everything but Id do anything for you
I cant do anything except be in love with you

And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be
All do is keep the beat and bad company
All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme
Julie Id do the stars with you any time

Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above Ill love you till I die
Theres a place for us you know the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong Juliet ?

A lovestruck romeo sings a streetsus serenade
Laying everybody low with me a lovesong that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight steps out of the shade
Says something like you and me babe how about it ?

I was just thinking about that song last night.

Till then, Stay Awesome.

Andy

As promised.

2009-09-07T15:18:00.000-07:00

August has come and gone.
It seems like I was just saying that about July and talking about how it was my birthday.
Now, as it so happens, I am just shy of two months into my 31st year.
Things are going about on par with everything thus far.
I love it when I rhyme without intention.

There is an edit to make in my super sad and awful posting from a couple weeks ago:
I wrote that I 'hated it here'
Well, In little bracket-like-parenthesis-do jobs, I wrote 'Taps on chest'
It was a metaphor for where I am inside.
The head is clear enough, but I found myself growing tired of the usual parenthesis

THIS JUST IN AS OF 9/17/2009

MUCH More editing and time passes.

The nights keep getting colder and lonelier in the House of Danger.
My name will remain the same for a long time due to the loss of what was a new beginning to a blossoming relationship. Had i gotten married, it would have become
Andrew (David) Danger King-Brynildson. I still do like that 'Danger King' part...
The story is sad but true:
In which, Amanda and I were together for what seemed like moments. Trying again to have what was a trying long distance relationship while I was in Minneapolis, and she was here in Indy.
That 'getting back together' was one of the main reasons why the updates were so few and far between. I was happy we were back on a 'together' track, but as it turns out, it wasn't meant to last for very long.
Lots of staring off into space with glazed over eyes and a hollow pit in what was once my inside area.
You know the drill: Food tastes bad, but is still there to comfort you because it wants you as much as you want it (food is love/eat your emotions in the form of sugary snacky things). Music only has lyrics aimed at the lonely broken hearted. Sunsets are avoided because what's the point in looking at them alone? You watch laugh out loud comedies and when you actually do laugh out loud it feels weird because you think you should be crying instead. And then, of course, you do cry because you want this all to go away.
You go through all this for the Glory and the Power of love, but there isn't any Pat Morita to train you into a fighting machine.
If you caught that reference, I applaud you.
So I mope and I dwell and I drink and I sit stone faced in the company of friends because I am too sad to do much else. And then I lather, rinse, repeat.
You have been there, I am there now, we shall all go down together...
I will move on because I don't care much for thinking about something that in my mind was leading to an alter made of stones with groups of friends and family watching and waiting for the cake and the dancing.
That stuff will have to wait for someone else. Probably Bill and Jen, who tie the knot in October of next year. (Where I will STILL be the Officiant...What? Still you say? Was there any doubt? Read on, dear reader, read on)

I am lost right now. Not lost in the sense that I am on an Island filled with book clubs and Polar Bears (can you tell I only got to Season 2 of lost? Maybe a bit of season 3?)
I'm trying to find where I belong. What clan I should be wearing the tartan of.
What zip code to make people send all those letters that I need to receive, yet have no drive or follow through to send letters of my own out. Did that make sense? I'm lazy. It boils down to that. i should write a fucking letter sometime. jeez.
Moving. The tour must keep moving....
I was supposed to be here two months and some change.
It was a three hour tour as it were, and I had the tickets all set up for my triumphant return to the Twin Cities where I could safely be that guy who lives in him Mother's basement and thinks about what he did wrong in life to get him to that station.
Instead, I am a guest in a house of one of my best friends, her husband (who might as well be my Brother) and their Daughter who is the light of anyone's life just by looking at her and seeing her smile.
I do what I can around the house to help out. I turn off lights that they accidentally leave on, I do the dishes when everyone is asleep and I cobble shoes in the night so that they can have some bread with their soup. Seriously, does no one understand me but me? Is this thing even on?

At any rate, I am going through a mid life crisis a bit earlier than scheduled. I have very low self esteem in regards to every part of my life. Be it Job, relationships or body issues, I am in a dark and stormy place. The way I see it, I need a challenge. Something so terrifying to me that it kicks my ass in gear and I start moving forward in an upward direction.
I see myself as moving forward in a stay in the same rut kind direction. It needs to stop. I need to grow as a person. And as several other things.
There are things I want to do, and to do them (and I know it sounds stupid to some)I need to stay in Indy for a bit.

I am sure more on that later, as I need to explain more. Right now, I am at a loss.

My writing has slowed down to a trickle in the last few weeks, and it is troubling. But i still have the desire to do it, just not the drive. I need to pick up a six pack of motivation and change my heathen ways.
At least I kind of like typing.
My father gave me an old typewriter of his that he used for work years ago. He even had an extra box of ribbons, so the thing should last the rest of my life. it's one of those huge electric ones with the ball of letters instead of the arms that have one letter a piece.
It weighs about a hundred pounds.
I call it Beast. Sometimes I have found myself calling it Hank McCoy, but that is for another blog about being a nerd.
For all its glory, Beast will pale in comparison to the machine that awaits me in Minnesota. Lindsey and Roni got me an antique typewriter for my birthday. It needs new ribbon, but I am sure I can find somewhere that would have it. And it is about 100 years old. Excited for that is an understatement.
yep. loads of stuff. I have forgotten most of what I wanted to tell you. I have heard from a few people that they were worried about me because I sort of fell off the face of the planet.
Even my precious facebook has suffered my absence.
But I am back now, and ready to hold your hands as I help you up the mountain of life as we hike into tomorrow and other metaphors I am too lazy to write too much more just now.

Puppy update:
A while ago, I mentioned that we had found a puppy in the middle of the street.
She was left by some asshat in a huge hoopty with penis compensation rims.
he opened the passenger door. Pushed her out. Closed the door. Drove away.
We immediately fed and watered her.
I instantly fell in love with her, for she is a puppy.
And that night, we decided to adopt her forever and ever.
By 'that night' I mean after we had gone to The Metro, Josh Carson's favourite bar in Indianapolis, to sing karaoke.
We were a bit tipsy when we got home, and though I wanted to call her 'Vinz Clortho, Keymaster of Gozer' I was outvoted.
Since we had been singing total Eclipse of the Heart at the top of our lungs at the bar, Bonnie Tyler was the official name of the dog.
she is a Black lab/ German Shepherd mix.
Very friendly, and near perfect. All she needs is wings and fire breath. Those things would make the perfect puppy. Maybe a unicorn horn... But I digress.
Amanda added a middle name of 'Olivia' and since it was not rejected outright, it too has stuck. I secretly call her 'Starfire' in my head, though. Tell no one.

I assure you I will tell more later, as there is other stuff I want to talk about.
Tonight i am going out to try and develop some kind of social life outside of these sacred walls.

Wish me luck. I don't really like clubs.

Stay Awesome for me.

Andy

fail

2009-09-04T23:37:00.000-07:00

no home
no job
no money
no love
no kids
no family

Is this what it's like to hit rock bottom? to realize fully and wholly that every decision you have made thus far has resulted in failure?
This is not 'staying awesome'
this is something much much darker. staying awesome didnt mean anything anyway.
there was a post before this, but it doesn't matter anymore.
I hate it here now. .
I am in Carmel for three and a half days.
so begins my vision quest.

I was raised better than this.

No Time. No Time

2009-07-28T16:47:00.000-07:00

Very short, no time to dawdle.

Helped with gardening all day.

Some asshole stopped in front of our house, opened up his passenger side door, leaned over and closed it, then drove away.

We thought that the door was just opened a bit and he stopped to close it.

Nope.

After he drove away, there was a little puppy in the middle of the road.
It is about 8 or 9 weeks old and a girl puppy.
She is loving and wonderful.
If anyone can give her a good home in the surrounding area, we will bring her to you.
I have named her 'StarFire'

Tonight we are going to the Metro to sing karaoke.
It is a gay bar, and the last time I was there, they were still asking about Josh Carson.

I will try and write more about my adventurous day later.

Stay Awesome.

Andy

and then there was rock.

2009-07-24T10:27:00.000-07:00

As more things distract me from doing what is on my list of To-Do's, my silly blogs about silly things that mean nothing to you tend to take almost 48 hours to complete. you would think I could add some poignant things in here, but what would I be if 'Rambling Lunatic' wasn't something that described me?
Anyway, here's a thing:

Last night I embarked on a sentimental journey through the forgotten realms of Hell.
These are the levels that Dante thought about, then realized that they were much too tricky to describe.
The parts where mullets go to die.
And yet, they are embraced there too.
I entered a paradox of wondrous eye narcotics tonight.
It was good, yet the most evil I have encountered in my many years as Secretary of Inhuman Affairs. (not an actual position)
Tonight I went to a concert.
Not just any concert.
It was a family reunion of Cheap Trick, Poison and Def Leppard.
To say that it was epic would be saying the Titanic was a nice little yacht or that Seline Dion is pretty good at the banjo. (let your mind go with these things)

Here is my account of an evening that happened only 14 hours ago. No holds barred.
I just got home to Lisa and Jame's house. (From my Step Mom's place in Carmel, where I slept in the bed I slept in when Jr. High was a place to meet people and learn how to dismantle a gun.)I was staying there for a couple of days to help out my Dad. He has a bionic knee, and doesn't move very fast with heavy boxes of books.
Please enjoy.

Father and I enjoyed a nice afternoon of sifting through things.
He gave me many things, and bits of wonderful memories that I am surprised he parted with.
The last few days weren't as bad as I thought they would be. I still wish things were different, but at least both of them (Dad and Judy) know that I love them very dearly. Talking to Amanda helped calm my nerves, as I was about to lose my shit just before I spoke with her. Her timing is uncanny. Like an X-Man.
Lisa picked me up and we were on our way to Jason's (Fingers) house in Noblesville.
There, we ate and started to drink ourselves into a merry stupor.
Stephanie, his wife, and Sophia, their daughter were there to eat with us but did not partake in the rum that was flowing like an avalanche coming down a mountain.
As the time wore on, we were discussing the finer points of how to sneak booze into the concert venue.
I had brought a couple of stowaway airplane bottles that I thought were small enough to hide in a clever place. Sadly, my clever places meant my pants.
I managed to put two bottles in my 'down there' region. I did put them in a ziplock baggie so others might partake should they have become inclined. (and not discouraged by their proximity to my Man parts.
We knew we needed to bring the Rum, but had no way of getting the half gallon jug past security.
being the industrious and aspiring WC Fields that I am, I filled some baggies with the amber coloured Pirate kool aid and then double bagged them for quality assurance.
Lisa stuffed Andrea's bra with about a half bottle's worth of rum. I also filled two baggies and rolled them up in my sleeves, since I am prone to wearing a button down long sleeved shirt even on the hottest of days. But never a short sleeved shirt. never. Ever. It is my way...
So we are now walking to Deer Creek music Center that is now called 'Cell Phone Company that bought it and changed the name so everyone who come to this venue will suddenly switch carriers'
I still call it Deer Creek. I graduated high school there, and am a bit nostalgic. just a bit.
The place to rock is about a mile from Finger's house.
We went from fully developed housing areas that all were a shade of brown to areas that were about to become housing in varying shades of brown. Then we hit corn, and then we walked through the VIP gate of Deer Creek.
It was really just the area where all the Limos that people rented were parked, but we felt like VIP's anyway. First stop, of course was the port o pottie.
Since we walked in lieu of getting a ride from Stephanie, we missed Poison play that one song they play. (Just kidding)
Cheap Trick was breaking the hearts of girls who were not alive when Cheap Trick was a new band. And the amount of people there was amazing. I didn't think it would have been us and a couple other people, but Damn! It seems that these three bands found their target demographic with everyone anywhere ever. There must have been over five thousand, and I think I'm being stingy. We went to the police Cop who was checking ID's and stamping hands with the simple word 'Alcohol'
Fingers went first, and i think Lisa and Andrea got stamped too. i'm a little fuzzy on that.
When I met the PoliceCop, I pulled out my wallet (half in the bag already)and dropped my ticket. Fingers grabbed it for me. Thanks, Fingy. Then I struggled to get my ID out of the plastic thing in the wallet.
Then, as he was checking his memory about whether Minnesota is a real place of not, the two airplane bottles of booze fell out of my underwear. I guess they finally had enough, and now the gig was up. I didn't even get to see my one armed Def Leppard Drummer.
I guess Fingers, Lisa and Andrea saw the bottles fall out and were rolling on the ground laughing at me.
The PoliceCop didn't miss a beat (no pun intended) and said "If you drop one more thing, I'm not going to stamp you."
I told him I wouldn't. And he believed me. The fool!
Of course there was a tent set up where Camel was handing out free stuff, and as I am a sucker for free crap, we all went in and got free packs of smokes and some tins of Snus, that will never be used except for projectiles to hurl at the squirrels who are ruining Lisa and the girls garden at home.
Fingers decided it would be a good idea to spend $12 on a whiskey/coke in a plastic cup.
That's right.
Twelve American Dollars.
Six Dollars is too much, and twelve is 100% more than that.
I did however, think it was needed to pay $5 for a 20 ounce bottle of coke.
We needed something to put the rum in, didn't we?
And put the Rum in we did.

We found a spot to sit/stand in the nosebleed section of the lawn and everyone emptied our pockets/bras/ sleeves of booze that were now at body temp for easier absorption into our systems.
Then we listened to Def leppard sing about being cool and British. Very British. Even I wanted to help God save the Queen after it was done.

Cut to after the encore, and the thousands of people filed out. We just stayed on the blanket and dreamed about tomorrow or something.
When we did leave, I might have been a bit tipsy.
Just a touch.
I think my blood alcohol level was holding steady at around 56% Of my total blood.
No big deal.
Walking through an Indiana Summer night after being bombarded with rock music and booze is something I want all of you to experience.
Doing it with friends is a must, as they will keep you safe no matter what.
On second thought, no. No they won't.
I thought it would be a good idea to have a Gentleman's wager and claim that I didn't think that anyone would give me 5$ to go into the adjacent cornfield.
Lisa told me she would do just that.
And so I bolted into the corn that was just a bit shorter than I am.
Lisa decided she wanted to get eaten by a monster too, so she followed me directly.
Fingers and Andrea were watching us, walking along the drive, and listening to Lisa and I giggle at our cleverness. All the while, the top of my head was popping up over the stalks of corn. When we popped out along the road that would lead us back to Finger's house, I challenged a big sign to topple down. If that happened, I would have been the winner of an incredible prize: Another $5 from Lisa.
Sadly, the sign was very sturdy, though the passing cars were very supportive of me getting my prize money. They honked and cheered me on. to no avail...
Being bested by a sign that tells you than new homes started in the low 160's is humbling to a normal man.
Good thing I was enjoying the short term memory of a goldfish at that time.
As we strolled(stumbled) back through neighborhoods where the houses all look the same, I tripped and skinned my leg, just below the knee.
These things happen, and chicks dig scars.

By the time we got back to Finger's house, the girls were sober enough to drive home and for some reason we had the obligatory solar lights that I am so prone to acquire during nights of drunken revelry.

Lisa got me back to My step Mom's house and I slept the sleep of the just and true until my Dad got me up to load things into his storage space.

Now I am back in Irvington, and it is Annabeth's First Birthday.
I'm sure we will sit around watching her play with plastic cups and be completely oblivious to the fact that today is her most important day of the year.
But we will all be together, and that's all that matters.

In other news, I was told that Bill and Jen will be getting married next year, to which I exclaimed 'Whoo hoo' upon hearing.
Bill also asked on behalf of them both to officiate their wedding. I am very honored to be asked, and am looking forward to their big day in October 2010.
The days keep flying by for me here,and I am constantly asking myself what happens next.

Till what happens next,

Stay Awesome & Happy Birthday, AnniePants.

Andy

Update # 7

2009-07-17T10:46:00.000-07:00

One of my favourite pieces of music is Mozart's Clarinet Quintet. (Coming in a close second to the song called 'I spell some words like I am from the UK. Deal with it')
Most widely known as what Major Charles Emerson Winchester III taught his Korean POW's to play on the last episode of MASH.
I used to watch MASH with my Mom almost every day. It's a good memory. I like the show a lot. Not many people fess up to that.
But seeing as how I am the most emotional-sentimental person in my little world, I am not ashamed.
I was listening to it play in my head this morning as I woke up from a very restless sleep. I don't know whay it was in there. But in there it was. No matter how hard I tried to get it out with a few verses of Rick Springfield's 'Jessie's Girl'
The Springfield always gets songs out of your head. He's like the pickled ginger you use to cleans your pallet between bites of sushi. If your mind were your pallet, and you tended to speak in metaphor. Of course, I don't do that. I am simple and clear in anything I write. So there.
Today he didn't work.
And he always works. Every time. Like Colt 45.
So today is the day that Rick Springfield betrayed me.
July 17th.
Remember it well, as he will betray you too.
It isn't like I'm clawing at my head to get the Mozart out. I like it. But it also for some reason reminds me of how much I missed my Mom when I was a pre-teen living in Carmel Indiana.
I wasn't very happy then. And I keep wondering why exactly that is. I'm toiling with a lot of stuff right now that should take precedence over my general mood when i was ten years old till about 16. After sixteen, i had reached an agreement with myself that it was alright to live my life as I saw fit, even though I may not have been in the exact locale I thought was a perfect fit for me.
It may all boil down to a very protective instinct I have for my mom. I moved, and she was alone. she needed me to help out around the house. There are other things, like my Dad not showing me very much affection when I lived with him, but that is stuff for another posting. (we are fine now, my dad and I)
Last night, I felt like I needed to protect. It was a strange feeling, not because I don't feel that way all the time. i would punch a bear, I'd like to think, if it were trying to eat my friends. Last night, I felt a need to protect myself. There's the rub. That shit is out of place, and very rarely happens.

The tricky thing about writing anything is that it rarely happens when you want it to. The writing, I mean. I can hope to produce a mountain of things both interesting and poignant, but more often than not, i stare at the screen and wish I were better at sports or building Model trains or baking or doing anything but writing.

My schedule is very open, yet I always seem to have things to do.
This is why a lot of the things I write here sometimes take a week to post.
There are always adventures I need to have with various so and so's. Believe me, I'd rather be on an adventure than writing a mish mash of sad mopey bits.
This one, of course is no different.
My adventures yesterday prevented me from finishing up this blog, and now I don't really feel the same way as I did. I still feel like protecting myself from whatever inevitable fall i have built up in my head to be the end all climax to whatever whatever... I just have a vivid imagination that wreaks havoc on me. I make mountains out of mole hills and really need to take a breath every once in a while, count to ten and keep moving on.
But if drama doesn't show itself, then I have to manufacture it.
Just one of the many things we here at Andy Brynildson are attempting to improve upon so you can better enjoy me.

Yesterday i went with Lindsay and Snarky Andrew to various places that included an arcade/gamey fun place called 'great times' I found myself in a batting cage for the first time in my life. (I hit one that was very good. The rest resembled all those years in little league that I never participated in)
we won tickets for skee ball, and won dinosaurs and friendship rings and little parachute men.
When we tried to find an ice cream store to calm our racing adrenaline, we ended up finding a wine bar. The only logical 'next best thing'
One bottle of Cab, a plate of meat/cheese/crackers and a bottle of Port later: We decided that it had been the best day up this point.
I saw the house that Andrew owns and fell in love with it. I have a friend who is looking at rentals, you see. It's in the shady part of town, but aside from it being perfect, it is perfect.
Where do you go when your day is going so well?
Hogwarts, of course.
Harry Potter and the prisoner of deathly secret goblets and half blood sorcerers phoenix should only be seen in a drive-in.
As a matter of fact, all movies should be seen in a Drive-in.
And in that drive-in should be your be your best friends.
And more port wine.

All in all, things have been going pretty well. Always room for improvement on all fronts. But if I had to make a list of good things and bad things, there would be like three things on the bad side and a thousand on the good.
things are looking up. (He said, as the other shoe dropped)
Not going so well for the book I'm supposed to be working on. I am pathetically low on finished pages, and am still looking for my muse to inspire me to greatness.
I do have a hot date with a symphony on Tuesday, so maybe I'll get some inspiration there.

More soon.

Stay Awesome

Andy

I'll take recap for 37 please, Alex.

2009-07-14T12:10:00.000-07:00

And so it was. I became 31 years old last Friday night. Cells have died and been recreated several time since birth, and here we go with a who' who and what's what of the celebration of an anniversary of the making of a person who answers to the name 'Andy' But I prefer Danger king... And I am considering being okay with Tater Tot. But that last one is still in the R & D Department.

Dateline: Friday July 10 2009.
Location: The Irvington Neighborhood of Indianapolis Indiana. A place that I am liking very much, as I am surrounded by the best of the best.
Don't worry, internet travelers and Twin Cities residents, you still are ok in my book. For now. Dun Dun Dun.

I tried waking as early as my old and frail body would allow.
My dreams were a mixture of worrying about disastrous car crashes and unknown whereabouts of loved ones. Not a great night of dreaming, but it was on my mind as I fell asleep. It turns out, I CAN save people's lives in my REM cycles, and consider myself a hero in dreamland. And I wear a cape. But it is a tasteful number that compliments my legs, which I am told look pretty good. And that is from a trusted source.

There were a few text messages, and a few phone calls before i sauntered out to appreciate my kingdom.
Hellos and good wishes came my way, and the dreams of the previous night were quickly dissolving into vague memory.
Amanda had to work in the morning, so I was left with Lindsay and Lisa. Anniepants too, so I wasn't alone to contemplate my destiny just yet. There were things that had to be done. Errands for me usually only include one stop to the Speedway (SuperAmerica) to buy various sundries like hot dogs and Powerade in the refreshing red and orange flavors.
But Lindsay agreed to go on a quest with me to a couple of thrift stores so I could find a black suit jacket that I could wear later that night when masses would gather in my honor and sing covers of popular songs while drinking heavily.
Since I am a big guy, most jackets at thrift stores are much too small.
As was the case with both of the ones we went to.
I wish overweight guys would donate more clothing.
That, or I wish i wouldn't rely on gas stations for more of the food I consume daily.
Out of curiosity, we stopped by a big store simply called 'Flea Market'
It was amazing. I found things there that I didn't know I needed yet, and still even more stuff after that.
As if drawn by a higher power, we found ourselves at the 'Peddlers Mall' which was a brightly lit, cleaner version of The Flea Market. (The Flea Market smelled of cooking chili made with meat slaughtered in the back courtyard of a nearby apartment complex. Still, it is never good to go to a place called 'Flea Market' on an empty stomach, as your personal values go out the window. Still, we resisted)
Lindsay picked up a very attractive piece that takes my breath away every time I see it. To call it simply a piece of wood with a picture of two Unicorns would make the gods angry.
There are no words for its glory. The craftsmanship. The patina that seems to glow with the fantastic power of a thousand dying suns. The amazmagorical beasts themselves with the powerful horns and strong bodies waiting to enchant you and heft you upon their back to take you to the castle where you will cast a spell of magical power on a damsel who needs a good rogering...A Magical Rogering...
It is so beautiful. It is the only thing that matters in these darkest of times. It is a fucking piece of wood that someone decopaged a unicorn picture onto and then left it to rot in a dungeon until it chose the correct owner. And that owner was Lindsay. She may think she purchased it, but it purchased her. And it looks quite fancy above the fireplace next to my batman action figure and battle axe.
I thought that the prize for best find couldn't be attained, but in the end, I won.
I picked up the head of Darth Vader that you wear over your own head. And it makes you sound like him. Or you can press a button on the candy dispenser thing he wears on his chest to make James Earl Jones tell you that you cannot resist the power of the darkside. Or in this case, the Peddlers Mall.

Then we went to Meijer and she was offered one of the motorized carts by the nice pre-teen girl who saw Lindsay's broken ankle.
Lindsay promptly refused, which I will never ever forgive her for if I live to be a thousand years old and we all have hover jet packs.
I wanted to ride the cart. It was my birthday, and she betrayed me.
I have an enemy, and while her taste in wall decor is impeccable, she broke the number one rule:

If a store employee offer you the motorized cart thing, you take it. When you crash into the Paper towel display, it is her ass, not yours.
It was like getting the keys to the Bentley and saying that you would rather take the razor scooter to get to prom.

On my list, Shiv. On my list...

However, I did forget to tell that i found a very impressive sculpture with an owl on top for Amanda. She likes owls, and ceramic things from the 70's. I know I won her heart with that. Though she may smash it to bits when I turn my back. It's the thought that counts, right?

Then what? well, I wrote to my Mom, posted a blog and got ready for the night's festivities.

We went to Nippers Bar and Grill in Carmel to sing Karaoke.
I was visited by the Birthday Pig, which is a tradition in Lisa's family that I had always wanted to be a part of. The Birthday pig sent me Thirty One cupcakes (one for each year I have been around)that kicked ass and helped to soak up the booze that we were all drinking with reckless abandon.
Songs were sung, and lots of video taken.
I was with wonderful people, and I didn't forget for a moment how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends.
I asked Fingers to drop his talent for singing down a few notches so as to not appear better than me. Sadly, his worst performance was ten times better than my worst. I still managed to have a great time.
Some of the best pictures from the night are posted up on facebook, and I am in charge of adding the second batch.
More to come, i am sure.
Krysta Kendall, an old friend from high school dropped by to say hi, even though it was her 10 year wedding anniversary.
I was touched, and it was good to meet the man she has chosen to spend her life with.
Nice guy too. Looks like my friend Dave Mitch From Minneapolis. It kind of freaked me out a little.
There was an Andrea Grube there, and a Matthew Russ, and a Brooke Nelson, and The Snarky Andrew, And a Brett Stevens, and a Jenny Macias and a Jeremy Murray and a Stephanie Lenger and a Dark Snack, whose real name is Wendy, but I know her through LiveJournal. She apparently lives in irvington, and might become chummy with the girls.
My dorch gang was all there, save for Jenny & Hammam. They couldn't make it due to having a teeny tiny baby boy named Adam. I missed them a lot and wished they were able to watch me massacre Bon Jovi.
Having the majority of my people there was the best gift. It's hard to wrangle them all together. kind of like herding cats. Amanda, Lindsay, Lisa, James, Jenny, Hammam Fingers, Jen: I love you all to the Moon and back.

The night was perfect, and it was one for the memory books.
I was hugged by many and loved by all. And the fact that it was my birthday didn't matter. I know they would do that on any regular day.

Did I mention that everyone looked wicked hot? Well, the women did, anyway. It was hard to make eye contact, and i was dizzy from being so proud of the fact that I surround myself with attractive ladies just like Charlie and his angels.

At 11:11pm, I made sure I was outside looking up at the sky. it's become a tradition for me to be alone for a few moments so I can thank whoever is responsible for my good fortune and anything else that seems to be going well.
Then, as if by cue, my Amanda came outside to make sure she was the first person I kissed as a 31 year old. Wishes do come true sometimes.

Being older isn't so bad. I went to cracker Barrel the next day to inaugurate me into the ranks of the elderly, and the fact that I drank coffee during dinner was a sign of respect for the good Scandinavians who came before me... And I may have wanted to buy a quilt... Whatever. I have more years ahead than behind still.

Thank you to all who sent me good wishes, and those who showed up to sing with me.

Here is to the next year, I wish that every night would end with Amanda in a Vader helmet dancing the Vogue.

Stay Awesome.

Andy

A birthday happens today.

2009-07-10T15:23:00.000-07:00

My Mother doesn't have interweb capabilities beyond a little machine in her office.
This machine was a gift from my Brother and Sister in Law a few years ago.
It looks like a regular computer printer, but it is hooked up to the phone line and receives emails that we send her.
All of the kids know the code to make messages get to her.
I have it saved in my email box, yet I rarely send her messages. I have to get better about it, because I know she likes it when the machine prints out a message during one of the three times a day it is scheduled to print.

Today is my birthday.
I know that sometimes my siblings read my blog, and maybe my Dad does too. I am not too sure.
if he does, I feel I ought to have thanked him today when I spoke with him. (instead of making fun of him for being on facebook now)
I love my Dad, but we have some difficulty expressing ourselves when it comes to how we feel about each other.
At any rate, I wanted to thank him too. Maybe I'll pat him on the back when i see him in a few days.

Meanwhile, this is something I just sent to my Mom. Her machine will print it out at 5pm, Minneapolis Time.

And at 11:11pm, I'll be thinking about a lot of stuff, including her.

Dear Mom,

Today I am celebrating 31 years of being your Son. I can say that it is a celebration of being alive and well and healthy, but it pretty much boils down to you.
You had choices, and you chose me. That isn't a dark and controversial topic starter, it's just that I am sure you had so many chances to sell me to wandering Gypsies or to some Eastern block communist labor camp. I would have fetched a good price, too...
But you didn't. you kept me around to see what I was capable of, and while i am still trying to figure out what that all entails, i know I'm rather good at being your kid.
I wanted to tell you that while I have had a tumultuous year, and years prior to this, I love being around.
I am surrounded by friends who really like me, and a family who puts up with me more than they should have to. I have known love, and am capable of loving, which I think reflects greatly on your parenting skill.
If you had a comment box for just Amy, Marit, Matt and myself, you would get ten out of tens every time.
There isn't really any way of thanking you that would seem appropriate or enough.
Maybe by living my life, and chasing dreams and trying to achieve goals is the best way of thanks.
I am a good enough person where I don't have many enemies, and I can hold on to friendships for years and years. I think it is a result of the way you raised me.
I will continue to try and make you proud of me by working hard to use the talents you provided. I love writing and making people laugh, you know this, but i also want to write things and make you laugh too.
And i promise to keep trying my best to not squander what I feel i am good at in honor of you.
Thank you for being my Mom, and thank you for having me on July 10th 1978 at 11:11pm In Blodgett Hospital in Grand Rapids Michigan.

Thank you for being there always when I needed you, and all the times when I thought I didn't, but in the back of my mind knew you were there to help me along the way.

I love you to the moon.

Happy Our Anniversary, Mom.

All my love,

Andrew David

ps- I got a Darth Vader Helmet from Star Wars that changed your voice when you wear it. I'll take pictures of it and send them to you. I know you will think it's neat.

I will be spending time with some friends tonight, and that is the best birthday gift there is.
Aside from a Darth Vader Mask...

Stay Awesome, and thank you for reading me.

Andy

A perfect Day amidst other kinds of days

2009-07-08T20:05:00.000-07:00

What is a perfect day?
Is it when you find yourself doing everything that you want to do, with the people who make you who you are?
And then the question is, Who are you?
Do you know yourself well enough to know what it is you want. From Life. From Love. From Family. From Friends. From the world around you. From yourself.
There are many perfect days out there to be had. Shit can really hit the fan at noon, and still be considered perfect because you spent the evening watching a tv show next to someone you care for. You talk about your day, and you make each other laugh. You go to bed knowing that whatever happens at noon the next day isn't going to trump the night before.
You feed off of it. You feel it inside when your day is perfect. Or your moment.
I have had so many perfect moments in my life, that if I practice what I preach, my life would be considered so. And still I want more. Everyone does i hope, otherwise I am a sadist who is doomed to fight reality for the rest of my life.
And life is going on all around me. It doesnt stop for me. It isnt pausing so I can catch my breath.
I'm working on building trust with someone i care deeply for.
And maybe it's working, maybe it isn't. I can lie to myself and saying things are swell, but there is always an underlying current of something that might surface to fuck it all up.
I'm not a good gambler.
I count my money while sitting at tables, and I don't have a poker face to save a life. But I do have moments. I will always have my moments.
These perfect pauses in time where the skies are just the way I like them. It's dusk during these times. The clouds are reflecting the sun so lazily that they don't have the energy to be perfectly white. They swim with the deepest dark reds and purples and orange to the lightest suggestion of a soft pink that lets you know the night is coming, and when that happens, that is when you are alive. You are able to make all the bad or good choices you want to, because tomorrow will happen soon enough. And when that tomorrow hits, you are ready for anything. the cycle begins all over. And if you are lucky, the day will bring something even more interesting to your door.
I'm not perfect, but some of my moments are.
She isn't perfect, but some of the things she challenges me to think about are. They help me grow up. And maybe that is what I need.
I'm not happy to the point of jumping on mountains and screaming challenges to God, but I am happy enough to know that it's a big world, and I want to see every inch of it. I want to dig it up, brush away the dirt and see what picture the puzzle makes.

I know i don't make any sense. I know of like three people who read this, and they all know me as batshit crazy and full of baggage. And not without reason.
This blog is host to a multitude of high's and low's. I may seem Bi-Polar, but i assure you, I am only a Cancerian. Take me or leave me, I talk about it all, as long as it has something to do with feeling something. And today made me feel something that i had forgotten about. That possibility of those fucking moment I keep yammering on and on about.
I had a lot of them today.
I had the shit ones today.
But once again, the good outweighed the bad.
And tomorrow, maybe it will be the other way around, but the next day is my birthday, and nothing bad can happen on that day.
If it's a pattern, at least it's stable. Everything was a bit wonky there for a while. I'll take any semblance of routine I can get. I'm too random as it is.

Edit- It is now the next day, and with it, nothing to report.
I suppose I wish my evening plans were a little different, and didn't consist of wishing and hoping and sitting and staring out into nothing. On the other hand, i could get some much needed writing done.
I'm distracted today by thoughts that will probably end up destroying me, but I suppose I have been wanting to destroy something beautiful. And I am so very very cute...

Meanwhile, I am set to do battle with myself. Tonight, and the next and the one after that and so on until I reach some happy medium.

But tomorrow is my Birthday, and whats the worst that could happen on a birthday?

Till then, I'm sure I made some sort of point earlier. If I didn't, just take away that not everything is bad if you focus on good parts. In relationships, in friendships or in wherever I fit into a puzzle picture.
You HAVE to focus on the good parts.
Otherwise all the songs you hear and every show or movie you watch will have hidden meaning and be some metaphor for why you feel miserable. (sometimes. But only when a phone rings. Mostly.)

Stay Awesome.
Andy

This Friday

2009-07-07T16:08:00.000-07:00

I have a birthday coming up on Friday, and I want it to be a starting point for some good stuff to happen.
I will be surrounded by my friends, and that is all I need.
And I will be singing karaoke. There's that.

It will be a celebration of life and the future.

I am going to make a concerted effort to not be sad anymore about things I cannot control.
That's a good start.

A

To the heavens, I scream.

2009-07-07T00:23:00.001-07:00

I am not a good person, but I am not a horrible person either. Not more than the average person. I think...
Maybe I've been possessed by an 'I ruin things because it's fun' demon. Or it could be that I just make poor, confusing choices.
I am a moron like everyone else.
Human.
I make my mistakes, and I sometimes fess up to them, and other times, I am caught in situations that are beyond horrible.
Cowardly acts happen.
And sometimes they are committed by me.
But then there's the good stuff that I do or say or mean to say or think or write. Some wash away the bad, and sometimes the bad is there for always.
I have not been excellent to some people.
I bring on drama like I know what to do when it gets really intense.
I don't know. I have movie moments stuck in my head where the bad guy loses and the good guy wins.
My life does not resemble a John Cusack movie plot. I stumble over words that have run over and over in my head because they sound perfect when I plan to say them, but they fall flat the moment they escape my mouth. My defense mech of humor sometimes makes it seem like i am insincere. I don't mean to be. It comes naturally, and i don't like conflict. I need to be sure that i can win a fight if i get in it.
Then I get in it, and I try to piece together some scene from a romantic comedy, knowing that in the end, the girl will be mine and we will ride off into the sunset together on a horse with no name.
And there will be fireworks going off as the sun fades into deep red and purple. The stars will line up showing both of our most treasured constellations.
What really ends up happening is staring into space, too numb to make a move.
To storm out of a room, hoping like hell that the other person will have more courage than you and try to stop you from leaving.
Sometimes they do.
And sometimes those eyes roll over white, and then the high pitched screaming starts.
And the humor mech starts humming and you try not to let anyone see your eyes start to well up, or notice that bottom lip trembling.
I think that nights should end with something positive from now on.
Maybe not mine tonight or tomorrow, but everyone else. All of you out there in the world who are sleeping. And to those still up, getting ready for work, or sitting there, getting sick of staring at a wall feeling a bit numb in the chest. to all of you, I want you to say those 'I love you's' Tell someone to have sweet dreams. High five a friend. Say thank you. Be brave enough or strong enough to forgive someone you care about. Always Hug them goodnight.
Sleep needs to happen right after you think someone really has your back. You feel like nothing can hurt you as long as you feel loved, or feel like there is a possibility of love. then you can start dreaming.

I'm the best and worst of both schools. Old and New. I think you should walk on the side where if a car splashes water on the walkway, you will get the majority of the wet, and her dress might be spared.
I think you should open doors for everyone, not just women.
Kids should know how fun watching Goonies can be, and that Ghostbusters isn't as scary as it is funny as hell.
You can get into a barfight, but it has to be to defend someone who cannot defend themselves.
But i also get sad, and the world has to be sad with me. I will be Captain Bringdown. I am moody as hell, and fuck wearing my heart on a sleeve. I like to hold mine up in the air to show everyone how sensitive I am. If I could, I would have a neon sign installed with an arrow pointing to the parts of my heart where if you touch it, Peter Gabriel's 'In Your Eyes' or Dire Straits 'Romeo & Juliet' would start playing as if by magic.
But hey, I'm only human, right? And where is the 'New School' part?
I have no idea. Don't put metal in the microwave and always dance the charleston at parties to get it really cookin'. Who cares. I talk too much.

I want you to know that I hurt Amanda. I made her feel foolish, and I lied to her, and I painted her like a bad person. The word 'Torment' isn't appropriate enough. Well, she is not a bad person. Not at all. She is a good, kind person who doesn't deserve any part of the shit I have put her through.
I'm the one who swung back into town and fucked up the tilt of the Earth for her.
I'm the one who didn't tell her I still loved her until it was too late, then was expected to just say 'Sure. Let's start it all over, no problem'
Who in the hell would want anything to do with someone who would do that?! You don't hurt people you love. You just don't. It's a really important rule and i broke it. Don't lie to someone you want to spend your days with. Please take note of that and use it when you are feeling particularly bad at any relationship you are in.
I am ridiculous. And I am the fool all the way because I kept seeing a sunset and a kicky new cover of '500 miles' playing on a jukebox as the credits rolled.
All of this is on ME.
My fault. My party, and I'll cry if I want to.

And I wanted to say that I am sorry. that is what I wanted to say. So now I've said it and way too much more.

Sleep Sweet.

A story. And why I am the way I am these days.

2009-07-04T23:53:00.000-07:00

This could be short and sweet.
This could be kept inside my head and heart, never seeing the light of day.
But it won't be. I warn you, you won't like me after reading this, so why not just move on to something you like doing instead of reading a ramble of things that you won't be able to make heads or tails of.
I just re-read it and it reads like VCR instructions. The sentiment is there, but I am a bad writer. It seemed like a good idea at the time...

I can bottle things up like there is no tomorrow, but there isn't any point now.
Nothing I keep inside stays there for long. This blog is nothing but misery and whining about woah is me stuff anyway. I remember it used to be funny. It used to have wit and some semblance of being a good read if you didn't have anything else to do and was the only thing on the internet left. You should always do the dishes before you read this blog. The dishes, nine times out of ten would be more useful.
But what will it hurt if I stop being cryptic and tell you what is really going on with me?
I've lost hope tonight.
I never really written about Amanda. I don't know why that is. I used to think it was for her privacy, but then she would always ask me why i never wrote about her. I have things on paper about her, but I didn't think a public blog on a public internet was the place for our relationship. She was mine at one point, and I was a part of something really good. I would talk about her in person, and if people would ask and were willing to listen, I would speak at length.
She is an Anthropologist. A fancy term for someone much more intelligent than am or ever will be. A go getter, and perfectionist. A planner of things and a writer of lists about what to make lists about. She has quirks that make me swoon and want more and more. She was supportive and kind about everything I do. Her unique beauty is distracting, and looking at a picture of her meant that you looked at it all day. Physically in your hand staring, or in your head. I would want more and more of her, and when I am with her, I am infinite and everything is perfect. I wanted so much to spend my life with her, that I devised a plan to move to Indiana to be with her. And that is where it got tricky. She was in Indiana. She is still in Indiana. She is twenty feet from me as i write this blog, and I can never touch her again. This is why I am unhappy. This is why I am writing this. To tell you how much she meant to me. Or means to me. Currently. Present and future tense implied.
I ruined, like most of the relationships before this one, the thing that made me feel like anything was possible. I am, as many know and few forget, a coward. Let me explain. I saw moving to Indiana as a way of running away, just like I saw Minneapolis as a way of escape. Both cities were my personal circus. I needed to get to them as fast as possible because I thought that they would automatically fill the void that I needed filling. There is more to that story of why i wanted to get to Minneapolis, but it is so far in the past that even i forget some detail. But i know why i wanted Indianapolis this time. I wanted to start something real. No more meeting people at random and facebook befriending them or myspace buddy-ing them and flirting via messenger and meeting and subsequently hooking up and starting the cycle over again. Its a generalization, but it fits at this moment, as my fingers hit the keyboard with menacing speed and inaccuracy. Seriously. Spell Check is my best friend right now. I'm just a man who had reached his limit. i had grown up, and I literally saw the kids and the big dog and the matching luggage and the adventures to far off lands in order for her to dig things up and study them. I would write to make minimum wage and live the happiest life known to man next to the woman that made me feel like I had just as much to offer the world as she did, because she believed in me. And i her. At least, that was what growing up meant to me. Or means to me. i don't know. it isn't going to happen, so maybe it will change in twenty minutes or tomorrow afternoon or never. Maybe my thoughts on what a grown up is revolves around the mass stereotype of some idiot (myself in this instance) who never really grows up. My parents are grown up, and they don't go on adventures to the American southwest and dig up human remains from ancient civilizations and make rubbings of glyphs on rocky slopes that are older than the continents. But they had kids, and were at one point in love, so maybe they were a different kind of grown up? I honestly will never know. I just know what I want. or wanted. meh. end rant.
I'm going in and out of topic, apologies. As the date of my move to Indy approached, I was mentioning more and more of my nerves. Still looking forward to it, but also down with the understanding that I was making one HELL of a life change. Friends and family were of mixed thought. 'You should do it. It will be great for you'
'Fuck that. Don't go. We need you here. Why Indiana?'
I was going to Indy to start a band or something. No, it was a theatre. Some space of my own. It was a silly idea made of whispy dreams and a barrel full of hopes.
I re-thought it, and realized that it would be uphill. No matter what i did, it wouldn't be what I really wanted. And I knew, deep down, that I was moving for her. To be with her.
And it wasn't fair. it just wasn't fair at all. The pressure she would have felt to comfort me while i was a stranger in a strange land would have been too much.
We were long distance since August. We spoke every night and sometimes during the day. I could count on one hand the times I wasn't able to say 'Goodnight, I love you'
And she would always say in a super fast adorable way, "okIloveyoubecareful" and then I would get my 'Sleep Sweet' that made me do just that.
I would look up at the Moon if it was out, maybe just the night sky, because i knew that those were things that we both used. I would look at the Moon and tell it to look out for her, make her safe. And if the moon was clouded over, or wasn't visible, the sky would carry the same message, and I knew I would speak to her tomorrow.
If I were to go out, I would call her and say the goodnights early. She always stayed up to talk to me, even though she wanted to go to bed. The hour time difference was enough to accumulate days of lost sleep that I owe her still.
Since we were in a long distance thing that would suck the life out of anything, we had our wonderful monthly trips to see each other. All too short, but perfect nonetheless. She came to see me first, and then i came to her. Then she started school and work was kicking her ass, so I came every month until spring. Taking the megabus was a pain in the ass, but I hope you've gathered that she was worth it.
She saw Minneapolis again in the latter part of Winter. She is a chill bug, but she loves the snow. I wished she had seen one of those quiet Minnesota winter nights where everything is muffled by the falling snow. That was something that I will regret not being able to show her.
So through the long distance love, and the nightly or more phone calls, we persisted. We made due with what we had. And I can speak for myself that I was happier than i had been in a long while. And not just because of her. Not only because i was with her. it was the way she made me feel about myself. The fact that I had someone who really believed in me. She always told me that she loved seeing me onstage hosting the show, or doing a fringe show because i looked so comfortable making people laugh. I don't remember the making people laugh part as well as she did, but we were both biased.
I'm still biased. I look back on this relationship with rose coloured glasses. I miss the moments we never talked about as well as the laughable memories of how goofy we were together. Making her laugh was my biggest accomplishment. And truth be told, I still like making her do it, though it seems the laughs are few and far between these days.
getting back to the long distance, and what was an impending move:
The tension was getting to us both. She was worried about me being there, I was worried about me being there too. It just boiled up I guess.
We spoke to each other one night in late April. It was just another one of our night time phone calls to see how the day went and to say nice things to each other. Sadly, it went sour. She was freaking out about me moving there, and I was too. I felt that whatever fears would be either laid to rest, or dealt with accordingly. Together. Like a team. An unfaltering unit that could beat all the odds of Long distance loves. we were different. We were Us.
The night ended with us not being together anymore. Stories and recounts may vary. He said/She said kind of stuff, but at the end of the day, we weren't that 'Us' Anymore. We were one part in Indianapolis, and one part in Minneapolis. 500 miles might as well have been several thousand. I couldn't show up at her door with flowers. I wasn't able to throw rocks at her window and climb the ivy to hold her once more.
The texts back and forth were still I love you's and I miss you's, but they were not as frequent.
When we did talk on the phone from that point on, it wasn't as often. I was trying to focus on other things, like what the hell happened next. I made myself scarce because I needed to not deal. I was not, nor probably ever will be (read: this whole thing now)able to cope with a loss like this. I had plans made and a new life to try out.
But then I started to really think. I didn't have that one person who would be in my corner while i was scared and in a city where I didn't know which end was up. yes, i had a support system here in indy, but I needed the comfort of a connection like i had with her.
She thought that I was only moving because of the convenience that she offered. I was going to sleep in her bed. move my clothes into drawers she had to move things out of. I was not only uprooting my own life, I was fucking up her own.
All because I wanted to be with her. I wanted to have a life with her, and I used the guise of trying to start some bullshit theatre that I knew not one thing about starting let alone running.
So yeah, i was lying to myself and others about why i was moving. I had moved here before for a woman, and now i was about to do it again.
Remembering how it went before, didn't help matters. But now I wasn't with her. I didn't have the support. I didn't have a place to stay. Everything had fallen apart, and now I wasn't even dealing with that. Just going through the motions like nothing was wrong. Sure, I was unbearable to be around. Whatever.
During one of our talks, and after i had decided to stay in Minneapolis, because what was the point of moving now, I made a mistake that leads us to now.
I told her that I could never be happy in Indianapolis.
I thought it was the truth at the time. i was mad. i was hurt because we should have been stronger than that.
It was mentioned once that when I started living in Indy, we could start dating and see how it went, and I'm not sure what happened to that. Aside from the fact that I wasn't moving anymore.
I did decide to go for the Summer. There was that. In my small Male mind, I felt that the testing it out thing might work out after all. But the communication thing fell apart. i know that it was my own fault. I should have called back when i missed a call from her. I shouldn't have tried to be 'strong and stoic' because i should have tried telling her that I just wanted her. That's it. I'm sure I did say that, but maybe just to myself.
I didn't talk to her on the phone for almost a week before I got here.
The last thing I said to her was 'I'll just see you on Tuesday when I get there'
I should have told her that I loved her. But she had started to move on, and wouldn't have listened like she might have only a month prior.
I know I skipped a few things, and maybe they should have been hit upon. Well, they aren't going to be. I'm here now. Here in Indianapolis, and I've had moments of pure perfection. And more Hell than i care to have in a lifetime. I'm bringing it on myself, because I didn't know that she had started moving on. There is another man in her life now, and I'm just the asshole who swooped in and fucked up her world by telling her that i still care for her.
She doesn't want a relationship, even though she is in one. I totally understand her need to move on. I also know that I am a complete fuckwit for thinking anything could be like it once was. I am justified in being hurt when I love you is still being said and hands are being held, and the new guy is on the other line waiting to see her again. it kills me that I am not able to love who I want. I want her. it's just that simple. It is travel to the ends of the earth kind of love, but whoever said that was enough is a screenwriter for Disney. I go to sleep at night hoping she will change her mind, walk up to me and tell me that I am on probation or something. make me jump through hoops and serve her tea in a cheerleaders outfit in from of our friends. Something, anything but what I am expected to endure. All the love in the world, and flowery language, but not enough love to close our eyes and fall backwards into each others arms. None of the things we used to say to each other. I told her last night that if we talk about what is going on between us, it has to be in person. Text has become to cold. hell, even talking in person gets up no where. I am in love with a woman who used to be in love with me, but isn't anymore. No matter what is said to me to keep me coming back for more, in the end it is really all over. And that is where I am. Right this moment. Typing out things that probably make no sense to anyone and make me look like a total bastard.
I'm hurt. And I feel like I lost the one thing that made sense. The horrible part is that I am am so masochistic that I am sitting next to her at a table writing this. We are laughing sometimes, we are holding hands sometimes. she touches my forehead, and I get goosebumps. She looks at me and smiles, I melt. I try not to think about the person she can be with. I try and tell her everything all at once, but all I come up with is making her hate being around me. I am ruining this whole Summer. This is me feeling sorry for myself and being pathetic. Well, more pathetic than what is above. I used to believe in Love as something so fucking powerful that it could destroy and create. All at once. It was a complete mystery, and the more I experienced it in my life, the more scared I became of how much it could make me feel like I could do anything, or make me into a pile of nothing, so numb that it would take a mac truck at 65 to make me feel anything.
The whole point of this was to show that I have loved someone fiercely. I still do, but I'm not allowed anymore. Maybe I am, but the more I do, the more hurt I get. I've finally reached the point where I am sick of being sad. I am sick of not being enough. And I'm not ready for anything that isn't her.
I am 12 years old, and I want everything I can't have. And I am still sitting at this table next to her, hoping that she gets over her cold and aces the test she is studying for. I am a mess and addicted to a drug who's street name is Amanda.

She is my drug of choice. I am addicted to her voice, and I constantly jones for her to ask me how my day was and to tell me to sleep sweet. For her to touch me the way she used to would be a plus as well, but it has to mean something. And I am too emo to be good for anything tonight.

If you need me, I am out building walls that are as tall as her own. With a door in it that I know i will give her a spare key for.
I'm masochistic to the end, I know...
But I still wish love was enough for right now. Everything else can wait till tomorrow.

There is no such thing as Staying Awesome in matters of the heart. I know. I tried.

Meanwhile, I am still Andy

I love you.

Update #5 & #6

2009-07-04T12:32:00.000-07:00

Last night was needed.
The earlier parts of the evening are embarrassing to me, and each time I re-live them, I realize what a fool I am sometimes.
When i want or need something or rather, someone, I keep trying to get it. Even if it isn't what they want at the time. I am selfish, i think, and the center of my own universe. This shit has got to stop. The more you try to hold on, the looser your grip.
If you love something, set it free, etc. etc.
I am back to writing. I got some things done today that doesn't suck too much. It's a rough draft, so I'm ok with it. I still find myself editing as i go, which is on my long list of personal to do less of. Maybe i will compile a list of the big stuff and keep it in my wallet, check it off as I go...

In other news, I had to stop writing the blog in order to gather thoughts and deal with some housekeeping. The above passage was written after the night in Broad Ripple. There was much more to the blog, but I think it was best to leave out some bits. Some memories are either best forgotten, or best left in my head.
We went as a group to see our friend Andrea DJ at a great little club that had lots to look at. There were train wrecks to see, and people to meet. And the music. That girl has great taste in music. Usually when anyone spins music, there is a 5 to 65% chance of crap being thrown into the mix. She did very well. I didn't hear one song that didn't suck.
And she played a request for me that allowed even Mr. Brynildson the chance to dance with a very attractive lady.
And I do so like going out on the town...
Note to self, I need a black sport coat that is too big for me so i can feel comfortable in my own skin. Maybe Indy has some descent thrift stores I can go to. I'd like a birthday coat. Maybe something with tails...
Amanda fell down with some terrible flu-like symptoms, and I have been taking care of her. It feels too natural, and I know myself and am probably headed for that edge again. The one where I fall off and spin uncontrollably into a dramatic abyss. But she needs help, and i can't think about that too much now. Brave face, Brave voice. Both have to be put to use.
She is napping right now before a tiny luch and her need to do some homework. She went to work today only to turn around and come home.
It's better that way, as she needs the rest. And theTap where she works was dreadfully slow. Apparently it's a holiday. Happy 4th, everyone.
It's raining here today, which bring a welcome cool breeze. Terrible for the fireworks, but there's always tomorrow.
When the cool breeze gives her a chill, there are plently of blankets nearby. keep in mind that it's hotter than hell in her room, but i am ever the furnace. The fever is getting a bit better when i touch her forehead, but I think there is still a ways to go.
When she wakes and eats and starts homework, i will try and pump out a few pages in my project. That is going slowly, by the way. there is always some distraction that warrants more attention. But again, I'll get back to it later today.
I've decided that I hate text messages, and only want letters. I figure that the cost of a text is as much as a postcard on some cell plans, so that is all i will be accepting form now on. I think this grand idea will last all of fifteen minutes. Still, there should be some kind of twitter for the Amish. And i kind of want to go Amish today. Technology has only caused me grief in the last 24 hours.

I forgot to announce that our Lindsay(indy) fell and broke her ankle. She did this on Thursday night during the fun we were having in Broad Ripple. I hope she isn't in too much pain, but she does deserve a bit of punishment because her Buffy viewing is making me become addicted to that show. And that is not conducive to writing.
I'd punch her or throw a big pillow at her, but she is using crutches and si confined to the couch. There is just something about a show with vampires and demons that makes everything better. A speedy recovery is expected.

I need to start making some soup for a sick girl. More to come, I promise.

Stay Awesome and freedom rules.
Andy

ps- I'm hoping that I can get through the stuff I need to get through so I can be a fully functional Andy again. Thank you for bearing with me, and for your patronage to this very small window into my life.

Update #4

2009-07-02T14:48:00.000-07:00

Not much to report today since i let loose the floodgates of shit onto the interweb.
There are moments of realness that are both amazingly great and horribly upsetting.
And then there are the moments of limbo, where I don't know where I am, or when i am due for some feeling back in my body. i go numb, and that is the worse feeling. The nothing. The thing i am riding away from on a flying dragon that looks like a dog.
Kagagoogoo is playing my theme song.
I hear from a couple people that it might be going around, that nothing feeling.
There are always those brief glimpses of sunshine through the cloudy days, and then I am reminded that it is summer. And this was a summer of trying shit out.
I am just not being given the opportunity to try that shit out.
Maybe tomorrow, always tomorrow.

Today i cleaned a house to help Lisa out and let James sleep a bit longer. It was a welcomed distraction, but i was up way too late last night, and way too early this morning. My adrenaline kicked into overtime this morning because of a phone call, and my heart was beating too fast for sleep to happen again. I have never thought that I would have a panic attack, but I am sure I have had a thousand since i got here. And maybe more since Mid May.
I am told, though, that I am not alone.
And that is comforting, but i wish it wasn't the case.
There is too much stuff to accomplish, too many things i need to say to let it get bogged down with worries and awful feelings.
I just want to share the good things for a bit.
I want opportunity to impress and show that I have things to offer.
Doesn't anyone?

I have been repeating a line from LA Story in my head yesterday and today. And right now. As I type it out, I am saying it.
'A kiss may not be the truth, but it is what we wish were true'
Christ, if i could write like that, I could win any heart or mind.

I didn't get any writing done today save for this posting. Maybe tonight, I will ask if I can just sit and write in good company.

I feel bipolar, and it isn't good. I'm smiling one moment, and wanting to cry the next. Feeling lethargic and empty, and then filled with a hurt that doesn't seem there is an end to.
I don't know what the deal is, but I know I still want to write, so there is that. I have to hold on to that.
Like I said, maybe I can get something done tonight.
I'm going to a club called Spin in Broad Ripple to see an old friend DJ. Getting out of the house a bit would help, I think. But then, i'm crazy and should be locked in a vault until the middle ages happen again.

I just wasn't born for these times, right Mr. Wilson?

Stay Awesome.
Andy

(Sorry for all the uncapitalized 'I's' They annoy me too, but not enough to do anything about them.)

Brave voice not spoken here.

2009-07-02T00:07:00.001-07:00

I'm not in the best place right now. My heart hurts and nothing is going where I want it to go.
I'm drinking to forget tonight, and for some fucked up reason, it isn't working.
I would switch to pot, but I am not 17 and don't know where to get it.
It's just not what I wanted, you know? This summer was supposed to be the 'summer of trying stuff out' To see if I could do something I have never attempted and to be something for more than just a few days a month. No traveling or time off of work or school. Nothing but maybe normalcy for a while. And then the real decisions would start.
This was going to be perfect. Something I needed.
Now all I am is a pissed off so and so. Mad and jealous of something I heard in passing. And since I don't know anything, all I can do is hate some fucking creole joint and the ones who work there.
I hate what i am right now and i hate who I am right now.
This has got to change, because like it or not, I am here until Late August.
I looked into escaping early this morning. It doesn't work like that. I wanted to be the coward I am, and run away like I always do when shit gets real. And how real is it? i live in a fucking dream world anyway. To think that I could do what I want when and where I wanted to is beyond masochism. It should be as criminal as suicide.
And please don't read that word like i do and have alarm bells go off in your head.
I'm going to be ok. I just needed a way of venting, and this is my way.
I do really need some communication from the other side, though. If you do read this, and have the time to talk, please call me. I'd love to hear from folks. I talked to Linds yesterday, and i was putting on a brave voice for her. Brave voice. I both love and hate that i wrote it like that. I hate the word Brave because I think it is reserved for emotional breakthrough. Things people don't usually say or do because it terrifies them. Running into a building that is on fire isn't brave. It's your job. People need to be rescued sometimes. But spilling your heart out, and then getting nothing back...Just doing it because if you keep it inside one more second, it will make your chest explode: That is brave. Damn the torpedoes. I wish i had a three month time window time machine. I wish i was brave. There are all these things I would do with both. And please dont take from this that I think there are no brave people. I've watched Conan the Barbarian too many times to think differently. (Mild attempt at humor aside)
I just feel that if you are scared, it's best to beat the shit out of what scares you. No matter how big or scary it is. Sometimes you just need to go with it. Do what terrifies you and hope to God that it won't hurt as bad this time around.
I am a complete and total idiot, I know this full well.
Christ this fucking sucks.
I was talking to (Indy)Linds and told her it was time for Shakabuku. I cannot stress that enough. -Spiritual kick to the head that alters your reality forever-
There has to be a time when enough is enough.
A time for everything turn turn turn.
And no, none of this is related to writing. I'm just a mess 100% of the time, and would hope that you realized it by now and still liked me anyway.
tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow.

Going to sleep it off now. Stay Awesome.
A

Update #3

2009-06-29T20:47:00.000-07:00

Writing as a hobby is pretty fun.
Writing as something you are experimenting with for two months to see if you can do it more and more as life progresses...Not so much.
Linds sent me a link to an article about first drafts.
Actually, it was about shitty First Drafts. And how they are supposed to be just that.
I have to train myself to stop editing as I go. The article helped a great deal and calmed me down a touch.
Today I switched from Introducing/describing my main character to describing God, who is the other main character.
Actually, I got so far as to describe his 'office/workshop' Haven't hit upon the deity (is that the correct spelling? it look strange.But spellcheck says we're cool)him/herself.
Today was a narcoleptic day wherein I slept too long and too much.
It is almost midnight, and i have been hoping to acquire a regular sleep schedule so I can get more done during the day and have the cover of night to have the adventures.
Alas, this evening I will be sitting on the porch, thinking about stuff I have no control over and wondering what to write next.
This is the Summer of my German Hemmingway, after all.
Torture is normal and acceptable when it is all in your head, right?

I have a birthday coming up. Number 31. I don't know if I should be excited or scared. 30 came and went without much fanfare or excitement. Maybe this one will be just another old fashioned love song. And no. i don't know what that means, it was just running through my head. I wonder if Three Dog night is thinking of me right now. I'm not sure if any of them are still alive, but if they are, I am comforted by the thought of 'AndyBrynildsonAndyBrynildsonAndyBrynildson' running on loop as they scramble to the interweb to find out what it means.
But If I have some psychic connection to Three Dog Night, then I must be turning 61 instead of 31.
I should listen to more Queen.
Anyhow, I may or may not have a birthday party. The festivities that were planned were canceled due to the end of a relationship. So it goes, I guess. It's one of those things I am thinking about while on the porch if you were wondering. It would be nice to see people and celebrate the 10 year anniversary of me being allowed inside a bar.
Oh God. That realization just hit me.

I am sitting on the porch still. Somethings don't change.
Lisa, one third of my gracious hosts, the other ones being James, and their soon to be one year old daughter, Annabeth Irene, AKA Pants) has been exposing me to episodes of buffy The Vampire Slayer and talking to me about life, the universe and everything. I have two buffy episodes swimming in my head and wishing I was a Joss Wheaton fav so i can have a show where I have conventions built around me.
So now that Lisa is asleep and I am waiting for James to come home from his night job as a Fed Ex manly Man, I have this blog to think about.
Sucks to the Athsmar of writing a book about Shaft or God or whatever the hell I think it's about.
I am on the porch in front of the house in perfect sitting at my netbook weather.
And I wanted to talk about something that appeals to everyone, but my finger is on the pulse of pop culture from ten years ago.
Actually, it might be 20 years ago, because I have an INXS song stuck in my head. A slight improvement from Three Dog Night.
What I really wish is for things to be brighter tomorrow with a trip to the Zoo. And maybe some clarity about drama that has been bugging me.
But first: I'm gonna go see dolphins make me smile and see if Indy has any Polar Bears I can relate to for a few hours.
Sleep well & I will talk to you tomorrow.

Stay Awesome.
Andy

Not an update. Just what is on my mind at 2:30am

2009-06-28T22:51:00.000-07:00

I once wrote a long time ago that Indianapolis was the city I ran away from.
But I keep coming back. I always come back.
And while I was growing up here, I hated it. That is why I ran away. And it's like I never stopped running.
But the more I think about what this town means to me, the more I realize that I need it in my life. I need the people here. The ones that matter. Parks and lakes and museums and libraries are all the same in the end. It's always about where you feel at home.
I feel the pull of both the cities. Minneapolis, where my Mom lives. My sisters. My oldest niece is only two hours away. She is starting her adult life well, and she is already a dear friend of mine. There are four kids there that I love very much. Annika, parker, Anders & Annalesa. I like being able to watch them grow up. See them succeed and become persons that I would be happy to hang out with and do anything for.
I have regular haunts that I go to on regular occasions. Some not enough, some to often to be healthy.
I love it there. the arts and music. The weather, albeit a harsh bitch of a mistress is great.
And the friends are supportive and good. There is more to say about them, but I know they know I care a great deal for them.

And Indianapolis. I talk shit about it a lot because I'm usually doing it to make friends laugh. The truth is, i like it here too. I talk shit before anyone else has a chance to. Because if they started up, I would tear them down. Visit here for a while and check it out before you start the mockery.
yeah, there are hicks and rednecks and uneducated people. But what place doesn't have that?
Hell, a selling point on Indy is the lack of Passive Aggressiveness. There are few things I despise more than that.
Rednecks can be taught to wear a suit and appreciate Bach. Passive aggressive people are untrainable.
Which leads me to a point.
Tonight I made an offhand comment about Indy. It upset someone I love very much, and I feel I will be making amends for a while to come.
I have a great respect for anyone who can leave home and randomly make a new one in a place where they don't know anyone.
The terror that rises in me at the thought of such a major life change is crippling to even think about.
Indianapolis is my best kept secret.
The people I stay with when down here, are guarded even closer. They are mine. And I let precious few know much about them. let alone meet the people who are my family here.
I told Amanda tonight that I am torn between two cities. It kills me to leave here every time. And having found love here that means so much hurts even more because I am a coward.
I hate that about myself. It burdens me so much to feel I have to choose between the two.
The only thing stopping me is really and truly just me. I am my own worst enemy. literally. I wouldn't know what to do with happiness if it stabbed me in the head and I somehow had all the necessary medical training to fix and to stitch.
I wonder if that made any sense? It is pretty late here, and I am emotionally a mess while i am typing this.
I'm just a mess. I don't remember a time in recent memory when I had my shit together.
I'm certainly not going to figure anything out by blogging about it.
And I'm not going to have it all figured out by a good nights sleep.
In fact, I probably wont ever know what to do next with any degree of certainty.
I just wanted you to know that I like it here. Even if I say I don't.
Tomorrow is going to be another sunny day, and I will be sad about something and I will be happy about something. I will worry, and i will be calm. I'll laugh, and I'll probably regret everything I have ever done. I have ups and downs in any city I live in. I just wish one thing at 11:11pm every night: to wake up somewhere the next day & maybe hold someone's hand as I walk out a door.
Anyway, Indy is alright & so is Minneapolis.
They both help me in different ways.
Stay Awesome.
Andy

Update #2

2009-06-28T13:43:00.001-07:00

Sorry about the earlier freak out.
Today is going a little bit better.
I've been sitting on the porch with my little netbook on my lap. trying to come up with new things.
Everything i type is sounding more and more like one of my blogs.
Svetlana says i should embrace it, and that lots of people like reading what I write.
I trust her, and I know that writing about writing is very pretentious. I do apologize for it, and the tone of all these blogs. (read: Woah is me)
I thought I had a solid story in my head, and it isn't happening like I want at all.
I don't even know what I want out of this. Something to be proud of, i suppose.

Irvington is a very peaceful little place amidst a sprawling city.
Indianapolis is much bigger that way than minneapolis. Sprawl. It goes for miles and miles and miles. I like how everyone in the Twin Cities thinks its a small podunk town with a well and one stoplight.
The skyline isn't impressive, but there is a strip mall for every person in the city limits. And more.
I got my Dad's bike the other day, so hopefully i will leave the porch one of these days and try and get some exercise.
Last night was a great bbq with some of the Dorch gang. Lisa was missing. As was Jenny, Hammam & James. Didn't feel complete, but i remembered how much I like looking into a fire. And the people that were there were great.
Today is very relaxed. No one is home right now except the Dog and I.
I had a wild hair and mowed the lawn. I wish I could help more around the house with stuff to make lisa and Jame's life a little less stressful. I'll have to keep asking them if i can do anything until they relent and give me a list of stuff to do.
More writing should be done by me in something that isn't this.

Stay awesome.
Andy

Update #1

2009-06-27T10:14:00.000-07:00

This isn't going well.
I came to indianapolis to write the shit out of some stuff, and I have come up with one page.
In three days, I will have been here a week.
My goal was to do Five to Ten pages a day.
My problem is with editing as I go. I read it out loud to myself and pretend that there is someone listening who wants to hear more, but the room is silent.
I have everything I need to make this happen. i have my iced coffee. i have my smokes (that I want to stop smoking, but I am so good at it)
I have the computer, and i have the idea.
But I don't have a way to get to the idea.
Who cares about a guy who is trying to shift the paradigm that society has on God?
I can't have the main guy talk to Odin, because Mr. Gaiman did it already, and I keep coming up with scenarios that seem to come directly out of some notebook that he didn't use for American Gods.
I feel like a hack who is trying to cleverly steal from his favourite author but without the stealing part.
Is everything thought of unoriginal? Has everything been done? Is it all just some spin on the same old song and dance?
What does that mean?
Am I singing?
Am I dancing?
I think i am freaking out, but I'm keeping it all on the inside and putting on a happy face, telling everyone that it's going well and I just need to hit my stride.
Except, i do vent here. There is always this place.
But I want it to work. I do I do.

I know this:
It is a adventure.
It is a story about a guy who talks with god, but god might just be a figment of his imagination, ala Calvin & Hobbes.
Or maybe a Snuffelupagus/Big Bird thing.
But people see Snuffy now. Before, the Big Bird was just crazy.
I am crazy.
I am a bird?
I don't like birds, really. I think they are cool, and former dinosaurs, but Dr. Grant told me that, and he doesn't exist because Michael Crighton is dead now.
Have I passed the point of no return?

I want it to be funny, but what is funny about anything but everything?
Why did that last sentence make total sense to me?

I thought there were rules to these daunting projects, but i am making up new ones as I go. Like I have to blog in order to psych myself up to type just one small paragraph in a thing that maybe no one will read.

yes. I am a Bird. And a Dinosaur. i wish i hadn't left that dino claw that linds bought me in Minneapolis. I should type with it to get into the mind of a dinosaur bird who writes about God.
why am i not capitalizing the 'I's'? Sometimes I am. just then i did. but not just then.
Oh my God, i am not good at any of this and i want a snacky pie. Cherry. A cherry hostess snacky pie.
No. A mountain dew slushie.
yes.

I have to make the internet stop for a while.

I want people to write me letters. Via post.
Please, if you read this, send a letter to me at this address:

5318 Julian Avenue
Indianapolis, IN
46219

Tomorrow will be better. Everybody writes about God on Sunday.
But not the way i do, because I dont write anything. I am not a writer. This is ridiculous and I want to punch Neil Gaiman in the face for inspiring me to want to do something different.

Ok. i never want to do that. I just wish he was here so I could find out what to do next.

More soon.
Stay Awesome.
Snacky Pies are terrible for you. I promise not to eat one, but to always want one.

Andy (or the shell of)

On Beginning an Adventure.

2009-06-24T01:44:00.000-07:00

Aside from the points in the trip where a water buffalo or The Loch Ness Monster crosses the tracks, making us have to slow down to a mere five miles an hour, the trip has been…Something.
The first leg of the journey was spent sleeping, as I opted out the night before because of a dire need to pack. I was transported to St. Paul Midway station by a very bleary eyed Big Strong Mike. Many thanks again for helping me out with the ride. I was placed in the very last car on the 10+ car train. It seemed to stretch for a mile. I was able to hunker down next to a not old enough to get a discounted coffee, but not young enough to put off thinking about AARP Lady. I am sure she is getting pamphlets. I can tell she wants to talk to me. But the joke is on her. I'm going to sleep on her shoulder and make her tell me it's all going to be ok. And then we will talk about girls we like and what movies we want to go see. She's gonna hate me by trips end.*
As it turned out, on the MSP to Chicago ride on Amtrak’s EMPIRE BUILDER, there are a few ‘smoke stops’ The first was in Winona, and the train was just a bit longer than the , what do you call them? Tarmack? Sidewalk? Razor Awesome Wallaby Chill Spot? We were told to go back up the stairs (as our train was a fancy train with two levels and free Kleenex tissues. Seriously. I could have stolen fifteen boxes and Amtrak would still have enough to give the planet a box or two. There seems to be piles of them everywhere. I think Amtrak is having an affair with Costco. When I got out of the train for a smoke, I noticed that three train cars (Including my own) were stopped well before the street we were blocking. The line of cars kept getting longer. The glares we got from the drivers more menacing. What were we to do? I suppose I could have asked the Engineer to scootch the train up the track about 400 feet, but would he or she even listen? And anyway, where do people from Winona need to get to so fast on a Tuesday Morning? The liquor store. That is where. They could wait five minutes.
I did call my niece to tell her that the last five minutes she just experienced were wasted on not meeting me on some street in Winona. Instead, I am sure she was on her way to a liquor store like the postman and the 50 minivans filled with screaming kids who wanted to go to the pool. And the liquor store to buy blunts and some peach Schnapps.
The next break was in Milwaukee (I missed a few due to napping) When we got on the train in Minneapolis, the nice Man who I decided I wanted to like despite my aversion to people with personalities so early in the AM, told us to stick close by the train during smoke breaks. Seemed like a reasonable request. It was nice enough of them to allow for a deplorable habit shared by only a few to even be recognized during a trip. Well, in Milwaukee, a woman decided to take a walk during the smoke break. A very very long walk. In fact, her walk was so long, I think a few of us thought she worked for the Train Guild and was going to go work on some switches or other train related business.
The ‘All Aboard!” was screamed out into a very hot and Humid Milwaukee train depot sky. Wayward Pigeons flew out, startled, from rusted beams overhead. However, the lady on her walkabout did not hear. She was off in the distance, almost half the length of the train away.
All the people were back on the train by now. Isaac, the likeable fellow mentioned earlier (‘Just like the love boat, only it’s a LoveTtrain!’ His words.) He finally noticed her, and said: ‘Oh Hell. I’m just gonna leave that Bitch’ I laughed, because I am prone to do that when funny stuff is muttered.
But he was too nice, and by now, she was wobbling back to the train doing something that looked like an impersonation of a runner done by someone who has never seen it done, and was told about it by a three year old blind kid.
Long story short, too late, because this woman decided to have a vision quest during a smoke break in Milwaukee, she set off the following events that inconvenienced me:
1) The train, being held up for a mere 10 minutes because of lady gaga’s stroll, missed the opportunity to pass over a bridge that was about a hundred yards from the train platform (THAT’S the word. Platform…) It was one of those open uppy/cantilever bridges to let big boats pass through. Well, there were about 50 or so boats that needed to pass, so we waited for them.
2) The bridge operator, bless his heart, was a five year old little boy who didn’t remember how to put the bridge back in one piece so Mr. Big Fuck Off train could pass over it. That part took an hour and a half.
3) When we finally got underway, it was threatened that those going to Indianapolis would have to take a bus to catch up with the connecting train that we would most assuredly miss due to a bridge that didn’t want to do its fucking job.

I should note that I spent the hour and a half sitting in the Observation car, trying to read the Anthony Bourdain book I brought with me. To no avail. I was busy observing a convention of Mennonites (Amish-lite) I was thinking about those Captain Ahab beards and listening to them speak English/Dutch. I also wondered if they thought their wives looked plain as well. Then I remembered I was pissed about the lady who walked our way into Amtrak hate. By the time the train started rolling again, I noticed one of the little Mennonite kids was holding my book. His father, who had hunted the white whale that took his mannish wife’s good looks away years ago ripped it out of his hands and apologized to me. I took it in stride and told him that I now owned his farm, and he had to make me a bedroom set and a kitchen table. Delivery is set for later in this post…
We did, however, get to Chicago, and yes, it was tense. And yes, there were very few Amtrak employees who seemed to know what a Train was, let alone where I was supposed to find the one that by the time I had reached Chicago, was leaving in fifteen minutes ago…
As luck would have it, and because Karma like to pee in places you like to swim(metaphorically, of course) I caught the train and was on my way. It just so happened, that this train(the one I am typing this on now) is cursed. It’s an old Gypsy curse you probably were threatened with when you wouldn’t eat your vegetables: “eat you Veggies, or the Summer heat will make the Train Rails warp and make a derailment. And the souls of a thousand pissed off travelers will be on your head.”
Sadly, they didn’t tell us this. They let us sit and wonder why we weren’t moving for TWO HOURS.
It was some intrepid older guy who can pull off a moustache like Tom Selleck in his prime who found out the why’s of our delay. All we needed was a couple updates or something. It wasn’t too much to ask. I may have said something out loud when the train conductor, Sir toppum Hat, said: “Does anyone need anything? That something I said might have sounded like ‘Maybe an idea as to where we are, why the Mennonite’s women are plain, and why there is so much Kleenex in Amtrak trains’

Now, I am speeding along the Indiana darkness. By rail of all the possible modes. I look out to see nothing by my reflection in the harsh overhead light so I can find the keyboard. Every once in a while, I turn off the light to contemplate why I am on this train. When I do that, I see the intermittent sparks of fireflies in fields that are as big as 1000 of the trains that I am on. These little pinpoints of faerie light that remind me I am back home again in Indiana.
At least for two months…
And all I need to make it complete is some John Mellencamp telling me that it’s just another day.
Holy crap, the train is slowing down again. Im gonna kill somebody.
Note: the train ended up being over three hours late. James met me downtown and I am sitting in the living room while he plays his World Of Warcraft, the Baby is awake and crying because she doesn’t want to miss what exciting things happen when Uncle Andy comes to town and I am about to pass out and start something epic tomorrow.
Stay Awesome, I’m about to.
Andy

*I just ended up sleeping most of the way. I think she was relieved.

A milestone and other things.

2009-06-17T10:28:00.000-07:00

The Monday Night Comedy Show celebrated its 100th show a couple days ago.
We had 75 audience members and 11 performers & staff in the big room that night.
It was our largest show to date.
The acts were great, and the audience had a fantastic time. It was standing room only at The Beat Coffeehouse, and I couldn't have been happier.
Minutes before the house opened, Joel gave me the go ahead to tell everyone we would be returning to The Beat in September. The uproarious applause was wonderful.
I know what The MNCS means to me personally, but I often forget what it means to other people.
I don't think about the fact that so many relationships that make people very happy were given the opportunity to happen as a result of a comedy show in a coffeehouse in Uptown on a night reserved for doing nothing but decompressing after the first workday of the week.
Jen and Bill got to know each other more and ended up falling in love
Nick and Kate are drunk off of each other because I kept bugging him to come to the show.
Matt and Aislinn are pretty much missing in action these days because they met through a slight suggestion from me. "Matt likes you. I think you two should date"

I went through the performance waivers and running orders for the show earlier on Monday. I wanted to see how many people have performed at the show.

215 individuals so far. And my numbers might be inaccurate. But that says a lot about how many performers live in this town, and how many are prone to being funny.
If you think about it, there are lots of others who do comedy who have never bothered with, or been able to perform the show.
I'm sure they will come around, though. We are kind of an institution now.

So this is a kind of 'I'm Gloating' post. I'm proud of my little show. I am happy I have gotten to know so many of the best performers in the Twin Cities. And I am thankful at the same time. If the performers sucked, the audience would stop coming, and if the audience sucked, the performers would stop coming.
It's a catch 22 that makes me happy.

So the show will be back in early September. Before that, however, I am due for some serious writing time. I might even practice not using so many run on sentences...
People keep asking me what I am writing when I am down in Indianapolis. Honestly, I don't know.
I would like to write a big long story and have it be read by lots of people.
That would be wonderful.
But I know myself, and really what this is going to be is a test of my follow through and endurance.
I want to see if I believe in myself enough to not care what people think i should be doing or writing about. I want to write about something I want. In a style and voice all my own.

But don't worry, I won't be going all radio silence this Summer.
I still have a show that I need to book acts for, and not to mention promote in a more aggressive way.
And then there is life stuff.
I need to find a job when i get back that will allow me to live on my own without roommates for the first time in a long while.
It will be a studio, i am sure.
Just enough room for my cat and I.
At present, i am not really looking forward to that. I am a social person who has had a fair share of alone time in my life.
But, I do like to walk around naked and figure out tv theme songs on accordion...
In the Fall, i also have a lot of projects to look forward to besides the MNCS.
John and i are going to write more songs together and try to perform them somewhere.
Gus Lynch, host of Laugh Rock Repeat showed interest on Monday after we did our 'Robot Love' and 'The British Prison Colony Song'
I am sure we have more funny in us that is yet untapped.
And then there is the hope of re-mounting JAWS The Musical!
John and I have to write more dialogue, and a few new songs to make that happen.
There is more, but I have stuff I need to accomplish today.
Oh, i forgot to mention that I read some stuff at Kierans Irish Pub last night for WonderDave's 'Juvenalia' show. You were to read things you wrote as a kid. Most were sweet and cute, but mine was from High School and in regards to my first official Girlfriend. Very dark and Emo. But in hindsight, hilarious.
I was talking to WD and i think I want to try to do slam poetry come the Fall.
So many plans, we'll see where I end up.

I hope you have a great Wednesday. Talk to you soon.

Stay Awesome.

Andy

ps- I do have several MNCS tee shirts still available, so if you want to help me recoup my money, please tell me you want one. They are $12 and it would help me out on my trip quite a bit. Thanks.

pps- Having an impromtu going away for a two months thing at The Green mill Uptown on Friday night at 9:30pm. Feel free to bring birthday presents for me, as I will be gone... ;)
-A-

Lost my Chi. Will dance for Chi.

2009-06-12T23:59:00.000-07:00

A little update for those who ponder my whereabouts for the moment:

So here I am in South Minneapolis.
I am living the cliche dream: In my Mother's basement, turning 31 in less than a month. Eating hot dos and other various gas station food to survive(because I refuse to be more of a burden on my mum than I already am. And selling all my stuff to finance a vacation I most certainly do not deserve, in a yard sale that is in itself based on run on sentences and comma splices.

All I need is some hot pockets and some Xena tapes.

To say the least, I do not think highly of myself these days.

I am surrounded by thoughts of people who think my ugly red shorts are the one thing that define me. (incidentally, no one will buy them)

And thoughts of the same red shorts that I wore in a hot spring bath in Iceland.
(partially happy though. I liked Iceland. they had a Popeye's chicken in the mall in Reykjavik.)
Basically, I am immersed in deep thoughts about things that happened years ago.
And to tell the truth, I am sick to death of them.

finding myself at a loss of what to do tonight, as I spent the better part of the day shlepping my stuff to neighborhood yard/garage sale professionals, I wanted an out. I needed to get out and get away into that proverbial sunshine Day. the Brady Bunch would be so proud.
So I went to Uptown. My old neighborhood. I went to Liquour Lyles.
And there, I found two-fers and walley nuggets or some such shit served with fries. Pomm Frites for the uninitiated.
From there, I went to the place where things go to doe and be reborn as something more evil than the thing they were trying to escape in the first place: Williams Pub.
The Headquarters of Frat boys and women who buy their clothes at American Apparel.
I'll break it down and beg like James: I played pool and drank a tankard of beer.
These things are out of the ordinary for your normal neighborhood Andrew.
It isn't that I wanted to go, it's just that I wanted to be something of a wingman for a friend who was nice enough to rescue me from my isolation in South Minneapolis. (THE WORST wingman in recorded history. At least since 'Top Gun' came out)
And I was in Williams Pub.
I will need some industrial strength hot showers to wash the goo off of me.
the kind of showers where they use steam to kill the bacteria.
So many folks I didnt want to talk to that there was line to go to the Men's restroom. (That only happens at the Indy 500 as far as I know. See, they serve LITERS of beer there. that is a unit of measurement reserved for things you bring to parties when you want to be nice and not be the douche who brings chips.

And this mysterious shadowy figure (Me) does not drink beer unless forced by something pointy and stick-like with a gun and a knife attached at the end by nothing less than a bomb (or duct tape) threatening a family of bunny-puppy-tiny hedgehog-kittens.
I drank beer, my friends.
I drank beer to forget.
And the shit part is, I remember everything.
What was I talking about?
Oh yes, I was gonna tell you about my mood.
Meh.
I am grey and gray and blah and meh.
The sale is doing really well, but that is because I have nice stuff and don't like haggling about prices.
The first customer today came at 9AM.
The sale started at 10am. (please note that I don't like early birds)
I was in the garage grabbing some shelving that I was planning on selling, when I was placing the shelves to put in said shelving on a table, she said: 'Don't put anything on there, I am buying it!!' (the two exclamation marks denote her seriousness about owning the thing she decided she owned now.)
Ok. So I might have lost my shit at her...
However, there are several things to consider when you know me.
1) I HATE having yard/garage sales.
2) I HATE people who come early to aforementioned sales.
3) I am NOT a morning person.
4) MY STUFF. I did not receive any money from her, and I told her: "Guess what? This is still my stuff. I decide who walks away with it. I do not know you, stranger Danger, and I will put things where I want. We are not open for another hour. I hate your ass face, and I blame you for making racism a thing."
(I might have paraphrased myself a bit there)
And she replies(and I swear this is to the letter): "Well I'm a Bitch and a Witch, so which one do you want to deal with first?"

Let that sink in.

Got it?

I am a Bitch and a Witch. Which one do you want to deal with first?

I. Dislike. Yard Sales. A. Lot.

So I killed her. That's right. I murdered a woman at my yard sale.
my reply was, when i stuck her through with a blade that was forged with every fiber of my hatred and lack of a cup of coffee: 'I want to meet both, firewhore. But I will wait until Valhalla to see you again.'

Did I mention I went to Williams tonight?

I'd say more, but I have a yard sale to attend to in the morning. Won't you come visit me if you are able?
5715 Wentworth Avenue South
Minneapolis, MN 55419

I'll be the one who is all out of Give-A-Shits.

Stay Awesome.

Andy

ps- I hope my father had a really nice Birthday today. he lives across the street from Doogie Howser, you know. And he hosted the Tonys. Doogie, not my Dad. Duh.

10Am To 4Pm. Be there.

Here is something for you to read.

2009-05-31T06:17:00.000-07:00

Hi people who read this.
And to those of you who do, I apologize for the snark-i-ness of my last post.
I think Drunk blogging can be dangerous.
I overreacted, and wished I hadn't deleted the rant about how much I dislike those facebook quizzes.
Meanwhile:

Stop! Update time!

I have been without interweb the last few days due to moving all of my stuff out of The Haunted Mansion.
2700 Pillsbury Avenue South #1 hosted my last REM cycle last night. Although I was too exhausted to remember any of the dreams I had. I can only assume they were epic, and filled with adventure and loads of 1980's sitcom star cameos, which is the norm.
For me, at least.

So Andy Brynildson has a lot of stuff. More than a lot of stuff. Too much stuff.
Stuff Stuff Stuff.
It's interesting to note, that when I moved to Minneapolis the first time after my stint as a youngling in Indiana, I filled a 1986 Toyota Tercel Wagon with stuff.
When I moved back in 1999 for a romance that I can only liken to a Mash-up of 'Endless Love' ; Strawberry Alarm Clock's 'Incense and Peppermints' and Every Song Tom Waits every recorded, I moved all my things in a huge moving van/truck thing.
Upon learning my immediate fate was not in Indianapolis, I moved back on an Amtrak train with two duffel bags and two boxes of books. (pry my books from my cold dead hands).
So that was 10 years ago, and my how things accumulate.

So to everyone who helped me move this time around: Kate, J-Man, Linds, Roni, Logan, David, Annalesa, Big Strong Mike and Matt- Thank you so so much.

My landlord, being the Guy he is, (Douche) wanted us to be vacated by Noon today.
Legally, we have until Midnight tonight. Now, while I understand that the new tenants would much rather move in the daylight than in the wee small hours when you should be listening to Carly Simon cover songs and drinking Port as opposed to moving your worldly possessions, I had to work today.
I am at work now.
Hence the interweb and my constant use of run on sentences. (due to fatigue, I am sure...)
And I will be here at The Beat until 3pm.
Who knows what adventures await me when I get back.
I still have a load of stuff to take to South Minneapolis. That will suck just one more time.
And then there is the crap that I have to throw out. The stuff on the boulevard outside the house.
Consisting mostly of my (now) former roommates garbage. But I have a big comfy chair sitting out there, and I need to get it gone.
And there's that big 1954 console TV that I so cleverly thought I could turn into a bar.
yeah. Never happened.
And I might be greeted by an annoyed (now) former landlord, with all the Passive Aggressiveness he has in his arsenal.
Sigh.

At any rate, I will be residing in South Minneapolis as the ultimate cliche for about two weeks.
While there, i will be planning revenge on Landlords who like to screw people over; a yardsale the likes of which has never been seen and a Summer trip to Indianapolis that I will now be referring to as 'Fat Camp' and trying to make everything up as I go along per usual.
It is going to be a good 2009. I said that earlier in the year, and by the All Father's glowing blue eye and his pocket full of Runestone Kryptonite, I will make it so, Number One.
Heh heh heh.

Did I mention that I won a Song Lyric Poetry slam contest last week? I can't remember.
Mike Brody and I will be performing our pieces NEXT week. Not tomorrow. it seems our dear Brody is making out with the ghost of Lizzy Borden at her house in the part of the country where she lived and died.
Make sure to read his article on it at the website where he writes it. I forgot, but he will most definitely remind me, as I have more readers than he does...;)

I'm done blogging for today.

Stay Awesome.

Andy

ps- I will be having drinks and snacks at The Green Mill tonight at 10pm to celebrate the end of the Mansion. In case you want me dead and need to know where I'll be.

Vent. I need a vent.

2009-05-27T23:15:00.000-07:00

I use facebook as an almost religious totem for communication.
It's a thing I am sure will taper off in time.
The thing is so damn good for keeping in touch with friends and family.
And I swear, as soon as the Letter writing revolution that I tried to start a few years ago suddenly becomes all the rage, I will go back to pen and paper. Stamps and envelopes. Hookers and blow.
I just think it is neat that almost everyone on the planet is on facebook, and it gives me a way to try and get as many people to the Monday Night Comedy Show as possible without bombarding their email inboxes with my lack of witty banter via written word.
Come to my show, Bitches, we have Iced Mochas... Those were the extent of my mass emails.
So with facebook comes great responsibility.
I have what I thought was a very unique last name. Brynildson makes for feelings of exotic blond men and women wearing metal chestplates and holding swords. Or anyone really with the name. You dont have to be blond. Or a man. Or a woman. We had a Pomeranian named Elvis once who had the last name Brynildson. I just think that family needs to support family. No matter what. If you hate my politics or the fact that I say 'fuck' a lot in my blog. If you are family, you literally HAVE to be in my corner. Mainly because I am in yours. And I think fair is far. Just like the legend of Billy Jean. Anyone? It had SuperGirl in it...
It might just be me that thinks that blood is thicker than anything ever. I love having my last name. I have never told anyone that, least of all my Father, who I can wholeheartedly blame for my moniker. In a good way, I mean.
Even my Mom kept the Son of Brynild as her last name. It's just that cool.
So when I go on a facebook freakout to find users of my same last name, I ask them to be my friend. I assume (mother of all fuck ups) that if they are a Brynildson, they are just like me: A Motherfucking Brynildson.
To me, I have a very cool and privatized last name. It's something that is uniquely 'us'
I am a part of a club, where the male members of the club have an obligation to keep the name going and going until it is as common as Peterson or Carlson. Or Jones. Or Johnson. Or Smith. Or Blah Blah. Whatever. I like my last name. Grrrr. Rant!
And it might be that I have had four whiskey diet drinks in my Brynildson Tummy that I am thinking long and hard about this. Or it could be that I am tipsy and I just looked at the MNCS event page and saw that someone going by 'CJ Brynildson' asked to be removed from the MNCS event list. The list that I use to alert everyone to the idea that there is a Comedy Show happening at 8pm-ish on Monday.
Well, CJ posted up on the wall that he wanted to be removed from list I use to invite people to the show.
He used the Wall.
The wall everyone sees who looks at the event page.
The wall that says to everyone that someone who's last name is Brynildson doesn't want Fuck-all to do with the show.
I might be a facebook purist, but I know how to delete events from my page that I don't want to go to.
It's a special skill set that I learned from when I went to Harvard and Princeton and MIT and Cal-Tech and Oxford and IUPUI when I took really advanced courses on how to use a MOTHERFUCKING MOUSE ON A MOTHERFUCKING KEYBOARD.
The thing that separates me from Mensa patients at the loony bin is I know that clicking a mouse cursor on the phrase 'Delete from my events' means I am not going to this particular event, but I don't want to hurt the irrational feelings of the event administrator, so I will just politely ignore it. By deleting it. That is all you have to do.
And yes, I know full well that I am being silly.
But if I didn't give a fooey about this, the terrorists would win.
And I WILL NOT give GW Bush the pleasure.
And to use the wall. Good -Gravy -boat- on- every- major- holiday- where- there- is -food!
I know for a fact that the people who come the the show are wicked smart. They are way too tolerant of my ramblings-on, but smart as a whip. They see that some dude has my same last name, and doesn't give a crud. In fact, he pointed out how much he wants distanced from the show to talk about it on the wall.
The alarm bells are ringing, and the firetrucks are coming to put out the asshole fire that that guy started.

ok. I think I might be done. We only have three more shows left in the run, and that dude is not invited.

On another note, last night I won a poetry slam. It was one where you had to read song lyrics like they were poems.
I felt there were better performers, but if you are interested in hearing two of them, Mike Brody and I will be performing one each this Monday at the show. And I guarantee that this show will be 'CJ Brynildson' Free. For your complete enjoyment, as we do not let fakers into the show. You have to earn the right to call yourself a Brynildson. And this dude clearly is just renting the name from someone who needs to buy some rock.
Ok. No more whiskey and then blogging for me. I'm kind of a dick. Just be glad I am on your side.

Goodnight Moon.

Andy BRYNILDSON

Oh. Hi there. I forgot I did this too.

2009-05-17T22:40:00.000-07:00

So guess who fell off the face of the earth? This guy did.
There has been some tumultuous bits of this and that in the AndyVerse.
Long story short: I have been thinking long and hard about the hows and most definitely the whys of my decision to move to Indianapolis.
And by thinking really hard about it, I mean just that- Thinking. All by myself. This whole thing was going to influence one person the most, and it happens to be the guy I see when I look in a mirror.
Lately, meaning the last almost three years, I haven't liked that guy.
I can get all down on myself for not being where I want to be, or for the things I have done or not done to get where I am. I'm not going to, because what would that accomplish? Nada.
Everything I have done until this point, the only thing I would do differently is quit smoking and exercise a bit more. Ok. Exercise at all. Period.
I am who I am. I can't change it, and it would be a fool's errand if I tried. I have very good friends who like me, and a few who even love me. I can't complain at all for who I am as a person.
Good Job, Andrew...
One thing I have spent way too much time on in my life is dwelling on one event or series of events that helped push me towards the idea that getting the hell out of Dodge was the number one solution to my worries.
Leaving town would somehow mend everything that has haunted me.
If you know me, you know what I am talking about.
It has left me listless and bitter.
Bitter towards people I thought were meant to be some of my closest friends through life, and wonderful people to collaborate with in future projects.
Haunted me. It's a really apropos phrase. I see reminders of getting stabbed in the back so often now, I feel I can rarely see the good side of things.
There is a support system here that I have neglected. And I had trouble asking for help anyway. I might be kind of a control freak. Hell, I don't let Roni and Lindsey help with chairs very much on Monday nights. I just know what I want, and have a hard time conveying simple things that could streamline most processes. It's my way, and I need to work on it.
As for those mentioned earlier about friends who I thought were friends, and now they are not: That's so tricky to talk about. It's a two way street, and I know I could have tried to keep in contact. All it takes, I suppose is a phone call. But when you are really down, and you need some help getting through the mucky muck, asking for help or asking someone to just hang out with so you don't feel so alone is really hard.

I have the most beautiful friends in Indiana. Amongst the oldest and dearest. They don't care if I make them laugh or if I sit in a corner and read the necronomicon upside down. Being surrounded by theater-ish and Improv-y and comedians and poets and entertainers in general, I get such a high off of being around people that hit a re-set switch in my head. They don't judge or expect anything out of me, and know I am being very broad and generalistic here. I don't speak for all, I speak for me.

And yeah, getting back to topic: Everything I can do in Indianapolis, I can do in minneapolis. Living in Indy for years as a kid, all I could think of was how much I wanted to be back in Minnesota. I love it here. My Mom is here. my sisters are here. I have nieces and nephews here. I spent almost all the time I was living in Indiana as a kid wishing I was back in the Twin Cities. And then fate threw a wrench into the machine and helped me discover the kind of person I was and am. What kind of people I am attracted to as friends and what I want to do for the rest of my life. Towards the end, i started to not hate Indy. It surprised no one more than yours truly.
And I did go back to Indy for a short time about 10 years ago this June. Which is why this is kind of ironic for me to do what comes next.
Only this time, I think it will be healthier for me.
So much for that long story...
I'm not going to be moving permanently to Indianapolis. I thought it was a good idea, and now I don't.
Other things have added to the 'why' I am not moving, but the parties that need to know, know. And it's painful enough to live with it, I certainly dont have to blog about how much I miss her.
Sometimes life throws you shitty punches. Distance is a harsh bitch of a mistress, but I have to live with everything I do and say. I will never take back the 'I love you's' in my life, and with any luck, I'll be able to say it again. Some day. Maybe to Amanda. Who knows?
Never any regrets. Not with stuff like that.

Anyhow, my plan thus far is to take a bit of a vacation from the oh so hard life I lead. (tongue is in cheek)
I'm going to Indy until late August and I am going to try something new for a bit.
A challenge I am making for Andrew Brynildson.
While there, I will sort out the stuff that dreams are made of and try to figure out what kind of niche I am trying to make for myself.
This is all very healthy and sort of well thought out.
Keep in mind that in the end I am a male, and therefore mostly stupid.

As for the Monday Night Comedy Show.
Who knows?
It isn't any secret that I love it to death. I go on and on about it here enough to say that's accurate.
I know I am coming back in August.
I also know that I want it to continue.
I hope that our audience sticks with us, and remembers us fondly over the summer.
Maybe they will be back with us. Maybe new people will come and take their place.
Nothing is all set up and ready to go. Nothing comes in a neat little package. And nothing comes with a big red ribbon that will not cause you misery in the end.
That might have been a double negative. I was never good with those. Nor dolling out sage advice or wisdom. At least not in blogs. Try me after four whiskey diets. I am Buddha then.
As far as MNCS is concerned, stay tuned. I'm looking forward to what comes next just like you.
Hell, I am looking forward to what comes next for me.
But I am not going to sit around waiting for it to come find me. Nor am I going to hide and avoid places because I don't want to see some dipshits who think they own the world I am a part of.

The MNCS #96 was last Monday. And aside form it being 150 degrees in the beat, it was a good one. I apologize that this missive was such a long time coming. It seems I only blogged once in April. And I have been neglecting the YesAndy blog.
But I digress and take you back to talking about the mncs. You know you love it.

Joel has since fixed the problem of Hellfire heat by replacing the filters on the machine that conditions the air.
So next week, where we were not having a show, but now we are, will be much more pleasant.
I announced that the show would go on to much applause. People seemed pleased that they would have something to do on monday nights coming this fall.
I hope we get to stay at the Beat.

So today I am at work. I talked with Svetlana the Brave and Bold this morning, which puts a smile on my face despite the sticky wicket that we currently find ourselves in. She has a friend who is getting married this August, and I am to officiate the service. My first wedding since I became an 'Ordained' minister about 7 years ago.
So that's a special thing. If you find yourself on August 1st feeling that love is in the air, it is probably from an epic poem that I will read at the service.
Actually, I was going to read Beowulf.

Just kidding. I will read The Canterbury Tales. The whole thing.

Meanwhile, if anyone has a truck or a van or a station wagon I could borrow to move my stuff to the SouthSide of minneapolis, I could use the help.

On the plus side, I plan on Staying Awesome today. You do the same.

Andy

Topical. For me, at the very least.

2009-04-25T10:47:00.000-07:00

I am still working on part two of that story I started almost a month ago.
There are more pressing things lately than have needed my time.

Here are some things of interest. Not to you, but rather, to me.
In no order.

I went to Indianapolis about a week or so ago.
It was great, the trip. I sat on the porch, as I am wont to do, hung out with my nearest and dearest and drank my whiskey diets in sunshine and mild temps.
I also went to a yard sale with Lisa and Pants where I bought some scented candles.
They smell like Cucumber and melon. And let me tell you, the baby Jesus' own flower garden doesn't smell better than those candles. And that mo fo has a green thumb.

And get this, I flew. In a plane. I felt I had to add that. My ability to fly will have it's own blog post one day, I promise.
I haven't flown since my Grandmother Lavonne's funeral a few years ago.
I swiped some headphone that they said didn't work off of the plane.
Bullshit. I call bullshit. They totally do.
They say United on them.
And they make me happy.
I also took a skymall catalog and I have decided that I want a Harry Potter Wand and a limited edition Dark Knight batman cowl.
And a towel heater. It heats your towels.
It heats your towels so you don't have to put them in the oven.
And it runs on electricity.
My Grandfather was an electrician.
Ernie Carlson wants me to have a towel warmer.
This is why I fly. To talk to my dead Grandfather.

I am obsessed with scooters these days.
When I get to Indiana, I will not have a car. No big deal, right? I dont have a car here. True, but we also have a really good Transit system.
In indy, you might get a bus every half hour during the week. At rush hour. If it comes at all.
And you have to be ok with going to three places in the city where the buses go.

I need transport. And I want a scooter.
The moped I bought over a year ago is sitting somewhere in hopkins being useless and not working.
By the way, if anyone wants a moped that was made in July of 1978 (just like me) all you need to do is give me $175 and then pay $50 for a part or something and then make a pact with satan and do everyone's taxes ever in the world and cut your fingers while slicing lemons and punch your balls over and over and over again until you are dead. Then you have a great moped.
So yeah. My moped doesnt work. And if you fancy yourself a handy person with a small two stroke engine, buy it from me so I have some money.

If anyone has a scooter that is sweet that they want to sell for $500, please let me know.

What else. What else.

Mike Brody, local talent of stage and porn is at The Mt. Washington Ghost Hunters dealiedoo. It's in New Hampshire.
In a haunted hotel.
The one that inspired the one from The Shining.
He is doing a few stand up shows while there, and has been blogging about how much fun he is having without me. You should read his stuff, it is rather fun.
I'd say i am jealous of him, but jealousy makes you look fat and ugly. So I am happy for him.
He and I share the love of the Paranormal. And of Brian Wilson.
And when BW joins Carl and Dennis to form the greatest band in the cosmos once again, we will hunt his spirit together. Mike and I. And we will wear matching jumpsuits and helmets that say 'Awesome' on the back in fire letters.
Just kidding. Brian Wilson will live forever and ever.
But mike and I will wear those outfits to Chipotle someday...

I am so going to the next big event the Ghost Hunters have.
AND I am moving to the most haunted neighborhood in Indianapolis, so when I get there, I will be looking up Investigation groups to join.

One of my oldest friends, Jenny Brown just gave birth to a little boy named Adam.
She was in labor for like three days or something stupid, which probably makes her made because her best friend Lisa gave birth a little less than a year ago and it took 20 minutes.

I congratulate Jenny and Hammam for doing it. And for a healthy litte dude that I will play Batman and transformers with.
Also: Treefort. We are so gonna have a tree fort.
And he will be marrying AnniePants (Lisa & Jame's kid)
And he will call me either Odin or Thor. I have not decided yet.

The Monday Night Comedy Show is plugging along nicely.
This is a really hard time for me, because the show is coming to a close, and I love it so damn much. I've never really put this much effort into something before. I mean, there have been plays and such, but those have a finite end with the closing night bows.
But this.
Oh but this. It's a different beast altogether.
This is so hands on. I have to talk to all of the acts beforehand. I have to ask them, or they me to perform. We have a connection, and the end result is a wonderful thing that I hope makes people happy having gone to.
I started trying to write a kind of 'Going away speech' for our closing night on June 15th. (plan to be there)
It is near impossible.
At least for me. This is all my own doing, this show. The only time I have been able to say that. And these people that have performed have become my friends. Now I have to say goodbye to them? It fucking sucks. That's what it does.
I hope I actually get it done. The speech, I mean. I have this problem of getting way too emotional. Stay tuned. I might just film the whole thing so I can be somewhere else drinking heavily. Or not.

Ummmm.... Yeah, so only 7 shows left in the run, and I'm getting anxious. It's happening way too fast for me, and I am freaking out a bit. Keeping it all internal save for this blog. And when I smack my bitches up. By bitches, I mean Boxes. And by smacking, i mean packing stuff into them.
Segue.
I am packing boxes.
And when the time comes for me to have the yard sale of epic proportions, you must promise me that you will buy my stuff so that I can eat and live when I get to Indianapolis.
Seriously. I will be very short on cash. Please buy my stuff? I have neat stuff.
You can come over beforehand and put post it notes on my stuff you want and say that it is yours.
We can work it out.
I believe in us.

Details on the yard sale to follow soon.

So the move is coming, and I know that I should be writing about it and making lists and dealing with emotions and hopes and dreams and fears and terrors. I'm not ready just yet. But when it does come pouring out, boy howdy, hold on to your butts. Because once I start, we will not be able to get Jurassic Park online.

I stared writing this the other day. So since then, we have done the Monday night Comedy Show #93.
Now we only have six shows left.
And then it will be five.
And then my head will begin to get all wobbly and I will start getting all cry baby and stuff.
Maybe not that dramatic, but I sense an increase in Whiskey consumption and the singing of Danny Boy.

The lineup is pretty stellar for this Monday, the 4th of May.
Jeff Hopkins sent me a little message asking for time, and since I used to work with him on Stand up a Go Go back in the day at the bnw, I could hardly say no.
I'm looking forward to every show coming up but the last one.

I will be performing with Laura Haug and John Bungert at Pee Your Pants Monthly at The Bryant Lake Bowl on May 14th. That show is at 10pm and cost $10.
Pretty steep, but there is music and video and other acts that will make you, well, pee your pants.
Our group name is BLONDE ON BLOND AND JOHN
I am a clever little mensa monkey, aren't I?

Our two year anniversary show is coming up on May 11th.
I have decided to go with a Masquerade Ball theme.
It will be like last year's Prom theme, but with masks and more fog machine.
Katy McGrath will be taking pictures, and I hope to get everyone to pose.
Dancing in between the sets amidst fog and candlelight. Very very fun stuff.

I am hoping that people fill in the order forms for tee shirts and/or posters.
The tee shirts are gonna be nice, but sadly, I need to gather up at least 30 orders to make it happen.
The poster is going to be print to order, but they are sweet too. Movie poster size, and designed by Lindsey McDonald Dorsey.
So yeah. The deadline is May 7th to get those in. That way, we get the shirts by early June.

New Note, Mike Brody got back from the TAPS Beyond Reality Event in New Hampshire.
He had multiple experiences, and I look forward to hearing about them. So. Jealous.

Right. I know there's more I want to tell you, but I have to start cleaning up the shop.

Stay Awesome until later.

Andy

An Untitled Story Part One.

2009-03-28T06:11:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna write a story on here. I'm at work today, and I am not feeling particularly clever. I just finished reading Neil Gaiman's journal for the day, so I dedicate it to him. See if you can catch the influence he has on it.

ok then. We'll see how long this keeps my attention.

Have a great day & Stay Awesome.

Andy

In the North, there were stories the people called Sagas. That was what they called epic tales involving Gods and Goddesses. Usually the sagas were told to teach some sort of moral to the young, and they more often than not, would be rather scary. Just so the children would be frightened into behaving themselves until the time came when they could frighten their own children with the tales of lying, trickery and beheading. All in the name of getting them to go to bed at a proper time and eat their vegetables…Or to remind them that stealing gold from strangers in the woods or breaking city walls by giants was generally a bad thing. And doing such things would only lead to

Andrew wasn’t from the North. Technically. He was from the Mid West. Or what people decided was the Mid West. He never understood why the powers that chose names for things called them what they did. Minnesota was in the Mid North as far as he was concerned, but no one really listened to his argument because he never made one. At least, not about things like mid America. The only argument he ever made was about proper tipping in restaurants, coffee shops and the like. Andrew was a Barista. A very fancy term for people who made coffee drinks all day. He relied on tips that people would put into his jar on the counter to buy things like food and drink. And rent. He needed to pay rent. Stupid rent… So the people would order their large mochas and medium skinny latte’s with a shot of vanilla and whip cream (which was decidedly NOT skinny) and sometimes they would put a dollar in his jar and sometimes they would put nothing in his jar. “Tippers make better lovers” was his favorite sign to put on the jar to make customers take pity on his dire economic circumstance. Only occasionally, when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself would he post “Help me pay rent” or when feeling honest: “I need whiskey after my shift” he often wondered what would happen to his employment if he let the people know “Your drink will taste better if I see you tip me”

He eeked out a living at the small coffee shop that was nestled in a part of the city where there were two other coffee shops on the same block. And two blocks down the street, there were two more. And so on and so on, until you reached downtown, where the smaller, independent coffee shops were replaced with Starbucks and Caribou coffee at the bottom huge skyscrapers. Those weren’t really threatening, because they were only open as long as the typical work day for someone working in the Target corporate offices. He wondered if the baristas who worked there fretted about tips as much as he did. Were they even called ‘Baristas’? Maybe in the big corporate chains they called them ‘Team members’ or ‘Essentials’ No, the only threat to his little coffee shop was the other two coffee shops that surrounded him. They were the enemy, and if people ever asked his what he thought of them, he would pull them aside and say under his breath that those other coffee shops served Folgers or Maxwell house as their specialty blend. And that they chopped up orphan puppies and put them into the scones and pastries they served. He was sure that someone from the other shops would hear of his subtle destruction technique, and hurl a brick through the glass front door. And then it truly would be war.

That was something he hoped would happen. He didn’t wish the owner of this particular establishment the bad luck of having to fix a big pane of glass, but he did wish that something would happen that resembled excitement. The coffee shop industry had been suffering a dry spell lately. The early 90’s had made the coffee shop a cool and hip place to prove that you were artistic, or that you were a writer that actually wrote. The more notebooks you had in front of you at the table, and the more hunched over you were, worrying about your ‘art’ made you part of the atmosphere. As the 90’s wore on, the notebook was replaced with the laptop computer. And since no one could see what you were typing, the writer was more often than not just checking his facebook page to see who was noticing that he/she was online. There were the regulars who actually did write something, but for the most part, they just annoyed Andrew with idle conversation, when he could be reading his book. If they actually worked on the screenplay they claimed they were always working on when they came in, the movie would be about five weeks long.

Most of the regular patrons were rather moody and eccentric, which seemed to have subconsciously affected Andrew’s dress and demeanor. Always in some shade of black, although he would say that is was to prevent stains on his shirts. He used to wear bright colors, though he was particularly fond of anything in the khaki spectrum, a throwback to watching Indiana Jones movies until tapes wore out, and associating shades of light brown with high adventure. The years working in various coffee shops had trained him to always wear black, since coffee and espresso tended to splash. Black was always in fashion, he would say, justifying his look of ‘poetic ninja’. And he never had to change his clothes if he were to spill. It was a win win situation, because the regulars regarded him as one of their own. If anything, he was eccentric, but he never thought he was one of those ‘Artistic types’ But his friends and Acquaintances did consider him ‘Moody’ He made a vow long ago to never be seen sitting in a coffee shop looking like a stereotype. There were too many of those who came in. There was the kid who thought he looked like a young Bob Dylan. Sunglasses on. At night. Inside. And he wasn’t blind. Or from the Matrix. He even made sure that he had a copy of War and Peace sitting on top of the pile of notebooks which were in turn, sitting next to his laptop. With facebook opened up as a home screen. The kid played the part of ‘tortured artist’ very well, but was so consumed by keeping up the appearance, that he failed to move the bookmark in the copy of the Tolstoy classic. At present, he had been on page 120 for over a year now. Nor had he created any kind of art, however, the number of cyber friends he had were in the triple digits. Fast approaching One thousand. He had actually met five of these people at the coffee shop, but they thought he was an asshole.

The days drug on and on for Andrew. The job was supposed to be a temporary one for him. Something he could do during the day, and do what he wanted at night. But what he wanted to do at night was considered illegal. Andrew wanted to be a Vigilante. Unfortunately for him, he had never had what some would consider ‘The Athletic Physique’ He liked butter on his cinnamon toast, and he liked butter on his butter. Thinking that his love of dairy was homage to his Nordic roots, Andrew slept better at night. When it came to exercise, he felt all he needed was his bicycle. But lately he only rode that to get to work in the morning and home from work in the mid-afternoon. “It’s on my to-do list” he would think to himself. “I’ll start riding my bike around the lakes as soon as it’s nicer outside.”

It wasn’t that he was morbidly obese, but he was running the risk of becoming so every time he saw those chocolate éclairs packed in sets of four at the grocery. And he saw those quite a bit. Especially when he was feeling down.

Time seemed to both drag on for him and go hurtling by if that made any sense. It turned out that he wouldn’t be in his twenties forever, And before he knew it, he had become 30.

Being Thirty years old isn’t so bad when you ride your bike around the lakes every day. Nor is it such a bother if you happen to go home from a high paying job and the home you enter is one that you have a reasonable mortgage payment on. However, being Thirty years old, and going to the apartment you have shared for years with a roommate after doing the opening shift at a coffee shop on a bike that has become a ‘commuting vehicle’ does not brighten your mood. After work today, Andrew was going to see about those chocolate éclairs…

(To be Continued in Part 2)

There. It's out there now.

2009-03-10T01:07:00.000-07:00

Tonight was a great Monday Night Comedy Show.
Every night has its own moments, and I am a little biased.
But we have a great thing going, and I have so much love for it, I am near to bursting.
So so dramatic, I know, but you do something for near two years and see how you feel.

Tonight I told the world of The show (audience, performers, everyone) that we would be ending June 15th.
I wrote down a couple pages to read so as to resemble some sort of press release. Something I could just recite and not have to look out past the bright lights into the audience. So I wouldn't have to feel the reality of it all.
But of course, the long winded 'I cannot stop talking' side of me found a short natural pause and started talking.
I lost my shit tonight.
It was just like that one night in November when I was calling out names in a curtain call at a Theatre where if I talk about it, it somehow spins around where I am telling the world that it fucks children and punched the elderly while it sells crack to puppies.
It could have been worse. I could have shared everything I felt in detail. That would have made it the second to the last show. I guarantee it.
So there I was. Ending a great show with dramatic bullshit. Telling all the good people who sacrifice their Monday nights that this thing they have become accustomed to is going to be coming to an end.
And then I had the audacity to ask them to keep coming back. to stick with it till the end.
In my head, the act of coming clean with the people who make the show what it is was a good idea.
It's like reading about communism. On paper, it looks like a good idea. That it might just work.
But I ended a descent show with a big Debbie Downer.
It was such a shit move, that friends thought it would be a good idea to buy me all the drinks I could handle.
'I drink to forget' I would always joke.
Tonight there just wasn't enough whiskey.
So here is Andy, getting home from the bar, scared shitless that I have scared away all of the audience who have made us a weekly place to go.
Why keep coming if it has a finite end?
I honestly have no idea. if they do come, it will be like building a baseball diamond in an Iowa cornfield.
Roni started an applause that made me want to die. If lightning could have struck me down in the midst of it, I would have felt like I accomplished something. There are some moments where no words or actions can justify what is being held in by, what is it? Pride? Humility?
What was I feeling at the moment where all I wanted was to crawl into a time machine and go back to the moment where I was saying 'Welcome to this new thing, The Monday Night Comedy Show' That was almost two years ago. I talk about the show all the time, and either I love it or I hate it in words. but inside, inside, I feel like tonight a part of me died. just like that one moment in November almost three years ago. 'Ladies and Gentlemen, The cast of The...'
I wonder if I will ever let it go. Either moment.
So it is out there now.
The end of an era. There was a woman who was asking me afterwards all sorts of questions that all I wanted was to scream at her: 'I don't Fucking know. It's just over, ok? I wish it wasn't, but it is. Please stop asking me questions. I want nothing more than to always have something I work hard for continue to exist, but more often than not, nice guys finish last. Thank you for coming, stop trying to get me to ask the fucking Bryant Lake Bowl if you can do a Monday Night Comedy Show there. The slot is already taken. Jeeeeeez.'
But some new guy asked me afterwards if he could do a stand up set. This was after the lady with the incessant questions.
He seemed like the fact that I just opened the floodgates about the end of the show didn't phase him one iota.
Didn't even mention it. A testament to the fact that maybe three people will miss the show after six months of it being gone.
Keep in mind, it's a pretty fresh wound. But it's a wound I chose to let people know about. I could have kept my mouth shut. I could have let it be my own dark secret, but I have this incredibly fucked up need to let the world know that when i am sad, the world has an obligation to be sad with me, and it they aren't, then fuck you too.
I may not be healthy, but at least I can call out my own bullshit.
Like I said before, I wrote stuff down so I wouldnt be weepy. It didnt work, but in my mind it was going to be like the President's speech in Indipendance Day.
At least the very end was.
" We aren't dead yet, so these next few weeks are going to be one hell of a ride. Are you with me? (illicit resounding applause) Because I need you to be!"
I don't think I have ever been more honest with the audience of the show.
So we will see. Either we go quietly into the night, or we kick ass and take names.
I choose the latter, but it stands to chance whether I have it in me or not. These next couple months hold a lot of changes for yours truly.

At any rate, please keep me in your thoughts, as you will be in mine.

Stay Awesome, or I might cry on your pillow like a beautiful butterfly made of lady parts and doilies. And pink stuff. And baby girl boo hoo bits... I have no idea what I am talking about now.

Andy.

ps- Read www.shadowofthefop.blogspot.com That asshole is even more dramatic than me. But in a funnier way.

Snow is happening. Run away.

2009-02-26T13:41:00.001-08:00

Here is something I wrote a while ago, meaning to put it here on my blog page.

As a preface, I should tell you that I didn't actually sing karaoke last night. Last night, I sat at home watching episodes of shows on Hulu. And that is probably what I am going to do tonight too. Maybe some laundry, but by 'Laundry' I mean watching shows on Hulu.

There is a ton of snow falling on the Minneapolis/ St. Paul Theatre today. So much so, that I am not even going out to get the half and half I need to enjoy my coffee. That says a lot about the amount of snow. It also says something about how much I like half and half in my coffee.

Zissou and I went to the dollar store to get his daily planner, since he refused to pay $15 for one at Office Max. One dollar seems to be the correct amount of cash to pay for anything these days, economy being what it is. I picked up a few boxes of Fiber One Bars. That's right. Fiber One. When you get up there in years like yours truly, you need to be regular. The trouble is, the kind I got were freaking delicious. Chris and I each had one, and both commented on how much we wanted to eat another on, but couln't for fear we would blow out something that should never be blown out. If you do have the means, economy being what it is, I highly suggest picking up some 'Oats and Peanut Butter Fiber One Bars' They are WAY better than Snickers or bales of Hay that people usually use to stay regular.

On our way to the Mansion gate, after we left the dollar tree, I biffed it on a big patch of ice. Clocked my right knee pretty bad. It is the knee that went through the dash board of my 1986 Toyota Tercell Wagon when i totalled it all those years ago. It has never been right since, but I rarely complain. Now I will complain more. Brace yourself.

Anyhow, here is a thing:

I‘m used to the whiskey they serve at the Green Mill during those magical hours that they call ‘Happy’ Most of the servers know me, and they usually have my Whiskey-Diet (as I am always trying to watch my figure) at my table within minutes of my arrival. I don’t want to say that I ‘have the hookup’ when it comes to free drinks, even though I feel I should, as I come in there several nights a week, dragging my colorful array for friends with me which I can only assume is good for business.

I’ve spent night after night searching the city for two things: Good happy hours, and good Karaoke. Sadly, I have started to think that never the two shall meet. Where one happy hour has great two for ones, they seriously lack a small corner with a microphone so I can belt out ‘Janie’s got a Gun’ for my adoring fans. By ‘fans’, I mean ‘friends’, and by ‘friends’, I mean the victims that hear me sing anything by Aerosmith. And of course, if the songbooks at a certain venue are packed with the hits where everyone sings along, the drinks cost more than a tank of gas at the Super America down the street. I mean, how else are you going to become the next American Idol if you can’t hold a cup of liquid courage while you massacre Neil Diamond?

Last night, I went adventuring in the mean streets of Uptown and found myself in the confines of the Country Bar & Grill on Lake and Lyndale. While I took interest in the huge buffalo head that looks like it was the first Buffalo head ever mounted on a wall, and mused to myself that I should think about getting some of those lighting fixtures that were entwined in deer antlers, I felt I might have found the perfect place to call my new ‘karaoke home’

The tap beer flowed like water that was fermented with hops. Just like beer should be. And let me tell you, I am not a beer drinker. But for $1.75 for a tall glass, you better believe that I was going to start.

I was promised me karaoke. And the guy who was in the dark corner trying to figure out the audio/visual stuff so I could start strutting my vocal stuff was the one who was going to make it happen. It’s just too bad that he wasn’t the regular ‘karaoke engineer’ The usual lady was gone for the night, and through his almost constant swearing at which cable went where, I heard that he didn’t have a clue about what he was doing.

But a few of those cheap brews were making me a patient man. (it helped that I was at a table with several good looking women) My name was finally called, and my grip on the mic was firm. I was going to impress almost 10 people in that place how Brian Adams should sound like…

And nothing happened.

Nothing happened when the guy pressed play.

Nothing happened when the guy swore at the machine.

Nothing happened when I started to pout. This song was really going to impress the ladies. I was sure of it.

As he started packing up the equipment, he muttered a short ‘sorry, man’ and then he pried the mic out of my hands.

Within 15 minutes, we were walking through the door of the Green Mill, where my Whiskey and diet was waiting for me, and I heard an Aerosmith song on the muzak.

So the moral of that story is: You sure as hell better know what you are doing with the karaoke setup BEFORE you hand me the Mic. I hold grudges. Especially KARAOKE GRUDGES.

Tonight, instead of going to see a friends Sketch Comedy Show that has been cancelled due to the snowfall, I will try editing some video and maybe do a YesAndy Blog. Hope you are keeping warm out there, and remember to be nice to those who are less fortunate.

I am going to go eat another Fiber One bar. While doing laundry. And think of the revenge I will exact on that one karaoke guy who made me pout.

Oh! And you should check out my friend Mike Brody's Blog. The link is to the right. He is quite funny.

Stay Awesome, or I will declare a Snow Emergency on you. And will never tell you where it is safe to park.

Andy

Random bits on my mind.

2009-02-09T14:34:00.000-08:00

This weather today has got me feeling really down.
Rainy and gray with a slight chance of this really sucks.
Every so often, I feel like something is about to happen. Something either really awful or something really good.
Pretty vague, I know, but those are the limits of my mental powers.
Sometimes I wish I could be better at math and science rather than feel like crap at the drop of a hat.
Or feel like crap because it is rainy and gray outside.
Maybe I feel odd because tonight is The Monday Night Comedy Show, and I've been feeling that since it's been getting better attendance-wise, that that is the other shoe that is about to drop.
The show means so much to me, and I really like doing it. The performers have been 'bringing it on' again and again.
I'm terribly worried that once I move to Indianapolis, there won't be that weekly feeling of 'I fucking did this. This is my show, and check me out World'
It's a question of trying to find a venue, I suppose.
The Beat being open to having a weekly comedy show was about as lucky as it gets.
I guess I am just apprehensive about how lucky I will be once i am down there.
I don't have any contacts in the theatre world there, nor do I really know any performers who are as skilled at Comedy as the folks who do the show in Minneapolis.
All in due time, I'm sure.
I've been feeling very UNcreative lately. Not writing as much as I think I should, and obsessing over what I do come up with.
I've been watching what I eat the last couple days, and have noticed more energy than when i would eat five burritos stuffed with Butter and candy.
I'm still not eating well, as my limited income does not allow for all of the food groups like Steak and Shrimp and caviar. Isn't that what healthy people eat?
I am sure that when I move, my future housemates will make sure I have an apple or something everyday. And I hear that there is something called a 'Salad'
Today Chris and I went to a thrifty store to find the next great treasure that will fulfill our souls.
The prices were outrageous. I think that since the economy is so bad people are thrifty store shopping more and more, so prices are being raised under a guise of justification.
But seriously. Ten dollars for a pair of Jeans? Two dollars for a VHS tape? It could be worse. I could actually be brand conscious and ONLY shop at Macys or Bloomingdales.
We ended up at the Dollar Tree and got some valentines stuff for tonight's show.
The show, by the by, will be great per usual.
Lucky number 82.
82 Monday Night Comedy Shows. Not bad for a kid from Indiana.
Seven stand up comics tonight.
And three slam poets.
And one improv group.
And Robocop II. The runaway hit that is proving to be a better idea than Jaws was. It kills me that so many people ask me to read it every week. But hey, The comedy writes itself.
I am going to have an impromptu 'Bachelor Auction' tonight too. Since it is Valentines day coming up. I'm not sure what that means, but I'll come up with something, and it probably has a 70% chance of being funny.
Maybe I will get rid of some of those locks of hair that no one really wanted... Probably not.
Last night a group of people came over and we watched Coneheads and Spiderman 2 on a projection that J-Man was nice enough to lend me.
I'm gonna miss the Hell out of him when I move. Best not to think about it till later.
But today does mark 113 days left till June 1st.
Time marches on, and current events fade into memories. One day, you will be able to recall where you were when you read this blog...

Hope to see you at the show tonight. Or at The Green Mill afterwards.

The facebook event page is

HERE

See you tonight?

Stay Awesome. Stay... Good Awesome.
Andy

Islands in the stream of consciousness.

2009-02-03T13:45:00.000-08:00

Hey Doozers.
I was just thinking about Fraggle Rock just now. No clue why.
Oh yes I do. The theme song has been running in my head for the last six hours.
Some might say 'torture', but I say 'Anthem'

So how was your night last night?
Better than anything ever, you say?
Then I bet you were at The Monday Night Comedy Show.
It's a little show with a lot of heart, and they believe in you there. Just like The Ghostbusters.
Wait, they said 'We're ready to Believe you'
Never mind. My pop culture machine is spewing out smoke and I found a few missing nuts and bolts. And it isn't plugged in.
And it's on fire.
The show really went well last night.
In case you haven't heard, I went to The Great Clips yesterday and sold all my hair to buy a chain for my husband's gold watch. And he sold his watch to buy me a pony.
Now I have a pony and a haircut. Ladies love a man with a haircut, but not a man with a Husband. They get in the way. Of things.
Strange mood? You bet.
I have to work tonight, and I am almost certain that it isn't going to be any fun.
With the exception of making people smile with my winning personality and five star customer service.
That has to be worth something, right?
Oh, I forgot to tell you that this is a stream of consciousness blog.

You might be telling yourself that 'Your Mom is a consciousness'
And you would be absolutely correct.
Certs with Retsyn crystals are not very good. Let's just get that out there. We were all thinking it.
Oh!
So last night, before the show, I was putting my hair into little plastic tubes to sell at the show as a sort of Fundraiser for Wonder Dave and Big Poppa E (Who also did some poems last night)
It was a strange sight, as I was listening to Regina Spektor and looking all crazy. But my hair looks wicked good and you know it.
Not many people took a vial of my goldie locks, or as I liked to call it: A piece of the Golden Fleece.
Anyone? Jason & The Argonauts? Hello?
Your Mom is an Ancient Greece Reference.

So I have all these vials of my hair, and I have no idea what to do with them, save for making them into necklaces that are not only unattractive, but rather creepy.
Instead of grabbing a lock of my hair, people did give generously, and the poets will have a little bit of gas money they didn't have before. I did notice that someone put a two dollar bill in the donation bucket (which was really a cake pan, as I could not find a bucket).
It made me think of old people and Werther's Originals.
And how I hate Carmel.
Not the city where I grew up, but the flavor.
Hate is always too strong a word, I know. I hate Racism and murder and war.
I dislike wet shoes, Vegans and Carmel.
And even the Vegan thing borders on Hate. But only when people make their children Vegan.
I think suffocating them in plastic bags is more humane.
What was I talking about?
Oh yeah, Carmel.
And other stuff.
Speaking of other stuff, please read my new blogging endeavor over at www.yesandy.blogspot.com
Or you can click on the link next door to this post on the right and read about how advice should be given.
I have to go to work early now. I just got the text.
End of stream.
Sweet Dreams, lilac.

Stay Awesome or they get their revenge.
Andy

Hiya.

2009-01-23T19:42:00.000-08:00

Ok. So I realize that my writing has taken a turn towards the emo-goth-somber-earthtone-boohoo-crabby-sad kind of route.
It was not my intention, and I hope to seem more cheerful in the coming posts. I do apologize for sounding so down.
I think it may be the weather lately. that might have something to do with it.
It's so cold, and I can't go out and play like I like.

And I haven't been in the mood to write. When I think about that, I wonder if it is because I don't feel particularly 'funny' lately. And since I want to feel funny (play on words) I decided to startworking on some fun writing, and see if it lightens my mood.

A long while ago, I started a profile on myspace and called it YesAndy!

And with it, came an advice blog.
I have moved it to blogger, and hopefully it will spark some more creative writing.
So please check it out if you have the time. The link is to the right.
email me with any questions or advice you need, and I will dutifully answer.

And so, let the games begin.
I work tomorrow morning at The Beat, so come in and warm up. I'll be there till 3pm
It's supposed to be negative 12 or less tomorrow. I love riding my bike in this...

Stay Awesome.

Andy

I'm worried about my baby.

2009-01-17T16:27:00.000-08:00

This is something that has been on my mind for a longtime:
Actually, it is more of a 'weekly basis' thing.
I started The Monday Night Comedy Show in May of 2007 as a new place for improvisational comedians to come and do their thing.
That was it. Nothing else. I didn't want stand up comics to sully the mood.
I was working with Butch and Improv a go go since day one, and by May of 07, I was in one of the deepest depressions of my life thus far.
If you are a regular reader, you know why, let's not go there.
Go Go is one of the most wonderful things that this town could have asked for. Butch, Dan and Larry started the Revolution and they should be applauded for it.
In homage to what they began, and seeing that there was a finite amount of room on the stage every sunday night in Uptown, I began the MNCS.
I wanted there to be another stage where people could play and make others laugh. And then the more I thought about it, the more I started to realize that the neighborhood didn't need a red headed stepchild of Go Go, nor did it need another Six Ring Circus(which happens on Tuesday night's) Uptown had all that. And I wouldn't dare compete with the two of them. That would be a dick move, and I would get like three people to come see the show and all three of them would be my family. And even they don't come very often to see stuff...
Hence, I went the way of Variety.
Something to keep people coming back. Something for everyone. Because if you didn't like the first act, all you had to do was stick around for the 2nd one.
I was working with Stand up comedians back when the BNW did Stand Up a Go Go, which was created by Jeff Hopkins. They were ok. I was an improv purist then, and a bit snobby.
And let me tell you, I have seen some really funny stuff from the comics who work the MNCS room. I don't regret adding on stand up at all.
But something has happened in the last few months to the improv acts at the MNCS.
They aren't there.
I understand that Monday night's are hard for some, but hard for everyone?
Trying to get an improv act for the show is like pulling teeth.
Now, I have heard some rumor about The Beat being a crappy place to improvise. And don't worry, I know who has been saying it, and it hurts, because they say they are friends.
I can't spend all my time calling or messaging people about improvising at the show all the time.
I feel like a failure. I suck at producing the show, and I know I suck at hosting, but it's the one thing I look forward to every week. Is it a shitty place to improvise?
I started the show thinking I would be bombarded with calls from six ringers who have had to pay to perform for a long time. I was SO wrong.
I often wonder if the vast majority even knows about the show.
If some threats I got a while ago due to who I had helping me with the show, actually were followed through.
I'm probably paranoid. I know I am. I just get so tired trying so hard to make it a good show.
I wonder if it will survive after I leave in June. If it will even be missed if it does fizzle out.
I know that it won't, though. Something will happen, and that something will be called The Monday Night Comedy Show. If it has Improv in it will be anyone's guess.
You know the only reason I don't go to as many Improv a Go Go's is that I worry about running into the owner of the space and have him make me want to jump off a cliff? I hate that he has that power with me.
I'd be there every week if things were just slightly different, but like Linds said, "Save the future by fixing the past before it has passed, Meaning Now.... My Time machine only goes forward"
This is one of the reasons I am moving. To get away from all the bad feelings from hopes and dreams that never amounted to anything. To get away from all those promises that were made to 'stick with it' or the years of ' your loyalty will pay off'
Minnesota should have ended differently for me. It really should have.
But lately, all I can think about is starting over. That sounds so fucking refreshing to me.
I once swore to the Moon and Stars that I would never return to Indiana as anything but a visitor. Never again would I have an I.D. that said I was from the Naptown.
I've lied to the moon and Stars too many times to count on all fingers and toes. Maybe that's why I am so blue... I shout out falsehoods to the heavens, and the heavens are pissed.
Or it could all be because I can't find any new groups who want to improvise on Monday's. Now I know why Garfield hated Mondays: He was trying to book Improvisers...
At least I still have Awesome Stand up and slam poetry.
Speaking of, Dessa Darling From Doomtree is performing this week.
Among others, and I am sure I'll post something about them, but it's good to get the word out if you have a well known talent playing your gig.
But then, i can't produce a show to save my fucking life...
Maybe tomorrow will have all the answers I need. Or my inbox.

Stay Awesome or I'll wish this all on you.
Andy

Post script- Ok. I read this one over, and I honestly just wanted to vent about how hard it is to find improv acts for the comedy show that means so much to me.
It ended much darker than intended, and I feel bad about it, but only to a point.
I dont edit very well, and I know I come off as Emo and in need of a good punch in the head.
I'm just sad that something I thought was catching on, really isn't in one aspect that I really needed to catch on.

I work at the beat tomorrow in the AM, by the way. If you want to stop in, I will be the one re-reading 'American Gods' for the 10th time and hoping people actually tip. I might even make you a latte...

On the bright side of the road.

2009-01-07T17:21:00.000-08:00

There are so many quotes about life and things out there.
I wonder if the day will come when everything has been said.
Maybe it already has happened? Perhaps all those new phrases and slang and quips and funnies have all been said before.
Are we all just a more cultured version of that guy in the office by the water cooler who recites a line or two from 'SNL' or something more obscure like 'The State' or 'Viva Variety'
Somehow that guy is the funniest one in the room. Just for reciting someone else's lines.
I don't think I am the one to start spouting off new and amazing theorems about the world. In point of fact, I don't find myself all that clever. I have some moments, sure, but so does that one guy in the office who has been watching Comedy Central for the last 15 years. Hell, I've been doing that too. Maybe subconsciously, I have been stealing lines from shows I saw in Jr. High when I would sneak downstairs at night to watch tv when my parents were asleep.
I'd like to think I'm not, but one can never be too sure.
I have one line that I do use that I blatantly stole from a really good book 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower'
I guess it isn't really a line, but more of an adjective. A descriptor I use in the same vein as the main character in the story: Infinite.
I use it all the time, as it makes sense to me. I feel it is the best way to describe all of the things that for lack of a better term 'Turn me on' (and not in a sexy way)
Infinite.
Limitless.
Forever.
My friends do that for me. They make me feel infinite.
My family, for the most part, makes me feel loved and appreciated. Infinite.
It's a great word, that.
I think f it as a great compliment for everything I use it to describe. What else could you say to someone that lets them know they make you feel like you could go on forever even if it is in the context of a moment in time? I can't think of any because when I read it in that book over 10 years ago, I stopped searching for another way to tell people I care about how they impacted me. And I suppose I am not being truthful. I don't tell people all the time. Just when the moment feels right. When I know full well that they will understand what it means for me to say it.
It's all dependent on the situation. And even the person.
More often than not, I keep it to myself. That isn't right, to keep stuff like that to yourself.
And if I did New Years Resolutions, I would make that my own.
Tell people more.
Don't keep it inside for ridiculous reasons. Even if it means you will be embarrassed or you risk crying. Tell people more.
It isn't easy, but neither is living with that feeling of 'I could have said more'
I could have
I should have
what if I had?
Those ones with the question marks are probably the worst for me. Those lingering questions that haunt you and run over and over in your mind. They make you crazy. And isn't that a definition of loony tune? doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?
I think that is why Time travel movies and books are so popular. It brings that fantasy to the forefront of your mind that feeling of 'Shit, that would be so cool if I could go back and say that one big thing I needed to say at that one critical moment...all my worries now would be gone'
I find regret to be one of my biggest fears. I am afraid of regretting an action or an inaction.
I am afraid of hurting someone I love.
It is something I should work on, because it can be boiled down to being afraid to live, and that's just what I want to do: I want to live.

You hear people all the time saying that they don't regret a single thing they have done.
Bullshit.
What a huge lie!
I regretted hitting the snooze button during a nap this afternoon.
I regret not putting my clothes in the washing machine until just now because I will be up way later and I will be tired for work. It goes on and on.
Cause and effect, I guess, but if you hear someone say that they regret nothing, slap them silly and ask them if they regretted you slapping them.
In the end, regret is just another word. It means lots to lots of people.

I'm not against New Year's resolutions. I'm certainly not militant about it.
Getting militant about things is silly to me.
Like religion. Militant about religion? Something is wrong with you. Let me think things about God the way I want to think about them. Please don't force me to believe exactly like you.
Militant about cell phones.
Seriously?
I know you grew up without one.
I also grew up without the internet and pens with laser pointers on the end to torment my cat.
But now I have them, and I have porn and a dizzy pet. The future is here. Now!
Your brother's arm just got cut off in a blender. I tried calling you, but you were at the grocery store. If I had been able to talk to you, you could have told me to stop screaming at all the blood and your brother wouldn't be terrified of smoothies for the rest of his life.
I'll leave this rant for another blog. I have more to say.

But yeah, I just don't do the resolution thing. I think it's because I am lazy.
But I don't think people who do do them are lying to themselves and stupid.
I felt like I needed to clarify. Sorry.

I've kind of fallen off topic here. oh well.
I am not the type to go back and correct content on the blog-a-roo.
I rant and go all over the place.
I was talking about feeling infinite. And to keep it much shorter than earlier, I am going to try and tell people that they mean that much to me. That they make me feel like forever's gonna start tonight or something.
Hope your 2009 is something special.

Stay Awesome or I will talk to you about cell phone plans that fit your budget and your lifestyle...

Andy

ps- come to The Monday Night Comedy Show this Monday the 12th? I'd like to see you and tell you secret riddles about mysteries... and say hi.

The Holidays are done. Here is a thing.

2009-01-05T17:08:00.000-08:00

I suppose it is time for another one of my long and drawn out writey-bits.
To say I have missed writing would be an understatement. However, I just didn't feel like I had anything to write about. I didn't want to bore you to tears or even bring you to tears with some sad story of how I didn't get the pony I wanted for christmas.
I didn't, by the way, get the pony which I would have named 'StarFire'
I did, however get some of the best collections of Christmas Miscellany in recent memory.
It started with a handmade skyline of minneapolis crafted onto a black sky background. And with the flick of a switch, the sky is lit up with sparkly stars. Made by my dear Lindsey McD-D. It is lovely, and she should think about mass producing them in larger forms and making her fortune.
I got a nice bunch of stuff from my family, and topped with an awful bit of drama that I never ever want to re-live. The food was good, though.
My Step Mom sent me a box full of fruit and nuts and snacky things. Much appreciated, since I was broke and couldn't afford food. The fruit was frozen, though due to being in the delivery truck since the early morning.
No worries, Judy called them and they are sending me even fresher fruit tomorrow.
I left for a Christmas in Indianapolis on the 27th. Via Megabus once more.
The ride was fine, and I went from Chicago to Detroit to meet up with Svetlana and her Mom, Brother, Sister in Law and two very cute nieces. (one of them was alseep the whole time, so I assume she is delightful)
I made it through the meeting of the family,and hopefully managed to get a gold star on my record.
I really like her Mom. She reminds me of my own, who I am quite fond of. And she has a bit of my sister Amy in her too. Her Brother is very likeable, and I fear we may have to do some LARPing where we are both assassins. He made it sound cool. Go ahead and laugh. We will kill you.
Svet and I drove down to Indy in her swanky rental car.
I think we passed the roadtrip test. Perhaps we should try again in the Summer. I was wary of the trip down to Indy because I am not a fan of driving in cars for longer than an hour or so. I tend to go mad and want to kill everyone.
She survived, so that should tell you something.
Finally reaching Home in Indy was a relief. I got some time on the Porch with my people, and started to really relax. There is something about being around people who never judge you for being yourself that makes all your stress melt away. And there never is a need to perform. Sweet Odin, I love that.
I will not bore you with another list of all the cool stuff I got from Cinder Klaus while I was in Indy. HOWEVER, I do need to tell you that I was the happiest boy in the world because it was a very Batman Christmas.
Svetlana the Beautiful spent probably more money on me than she makes in six months, and while that made me feel guilty, I opened the big heavy box and my eyed literally went 'Awoooooga!'

The Batmobile.

The Lego Batmobile.

The BIG fucking Lego Batmobile.

Not the little on that the teeny tiny figure fits in, but the Mondo one. The one that took me almost 10 hours to complete.
The Ultimate Collectors Edition one. The one that make a Boy a Man.
The kind you sleep with at night because it makes you feel safe.
My joy knows no bounds.
It has 1045 pieces, people.
Your Mom doesn't even have 1045 pieces.

I also got a lot of other batman related items, and I was and am very fortunate to have such generous friends.

Ok. So Christmas is done.

Then came New Years.
I spent it in Noblesville, Indiana at Finger's house. At first I was grumpy, then I realized that I was having a good time. All I need to be happy is to have my Dorch Gang around me.
Just like All I need to find you Louis, is to follow the corpses of Rats... Anyone? Hello? Is this blog on?

I got to kiss my lady friend at Midnight, and started 2009 off correctly. This is a big year for me.
Last year really sucked at points, but it all led up to this one.

That being said, I have a little announcement to make:
I moved back to Minneapolis in December of 1999. Since then, I have done a lot of amazing things. I have met so many great people who have helped to shape the world I live in and make it much more interesting than I could have imagined.
But lately, I have been stagnant. Existing instead of really living. And for someone like me, that just will not do.
I thought that when I was asked to leave the Brave New Workshop, I was going to die. I hit a very deep hole and I kept falling in deeper. I started to drink every night and I wasn't creating anything, nor did I have any inclination to do so. I was miserable. The one happy place in my life had been removed. I wasn't doing very well.
As time passed, though I was still rather numb, I was trying to move on. And with the help of the IndyFringe projects I worked on and the Monday Night Comedy Show, I started to find some sort of balance. It is only now that I see that losing The BNW wasn't the end of the world, but rather a beginning of a new one. One that I was in charge of. The MNCS has really made me feel like I had the ability to make something good. That I wasn't a one trick pony. I didn't do it alone, I know that.
And I know now that I can't do much alone. It takes a village to raise me.
But here I go rambling on about nothing much and boring you to tears.
Announcement:
I will be leaving Minneapolis in June for Indianapolis. To live there.
(A hush falls over the Interweb)
When I am there, I will be pursuing a few dreams of mine that I know is not possible to do in Minneapolis. This is a one or two horse town. I need to try out my own horse.
I want a fucking pony.
But more on that in another diatribe.
So there it is. Andy is moving back to Indy.
This is a huge thing for me, and I will become more and more frightened as the months progress. I am not very big on change.
But this is what is right for me, and I didn't come across this decision on a whim.
And just think of the fun and exciting road trip you can have when you come and visit me!
But for now, you have six more months of Mr. Brynildson. And I have six more months with Minneapolis.

That being said, I hope you fuckers throw me a good party.

Remember that The Monday Night Comedy Show returns a week from tonight (January 12th)
8pm
$3
At The Beat Coffeehouse.
Please come show your support of something that I am proud of, and is entering it's 2nd year.

Ok. Please discuss your feelings in the comment section of this blog.

Stay Awesome and look forward to a fantastic 2009.
Andy

ps- My moving to Indy doesn't mean the MNCS will be going away. Nor does it mean I will not be visiting often. Most of my family lives here. And I like them. I have plans that I keep to myself. How else can I continue to be considered 'Devilishly Clever'?

Hello again. Just like Shelly Long.

2008-12-13T14:49:00.000-08:00

It sure has been a while since I talked to you last.
Since I was in Union Station in that city thats windy, I have much to tell you.
Prepare thyself.

So I was using my computer in Chicago. You saw me do it, because you read my last post. All was right in the mind of a gangsta and his phat computing machine.
But then tragedy struck.
The screen to my laptop went all dim and lame.
I could still see images, but they were so hard to see, the computer was downgraded to 'Desktop computer'
Which really really sucks because I am super poor and this laptop was the nicest thing I owned.
So now I don't have mobility with my lackluster wit. Ergo: I have not been posting much.
Lindsay was nice enough to loan me a flatscreen monitor, so that is what I am using, as the computer itself works like a dream.
And yes, I have tried everything to make the screen work again.
I think it might be the backlight or something.
It's a sony vaio VGN-SZ120P
Pretty sweet Interweb ride, too. If you have the means, I either want a pony or a new screen for this badboy.

My trip to Indy was great.
Thanksgiving with my friends really made up for the lack of any family style stuff.
They only made me move two small heavy things within a half hour of me arriving.
Two refrigerators. My people are the best people. ;)
While there, I made the Marshmallow fluff that is the best dessert on the market. The black market or even the stock market.
It's good.
You should buy me the ingredients and I will make it for you.

The Megabus ride home sucked my soul out of my body, even though I sold my soul to Steve Hoppe in 10th grade for a diet pepsi.
I was sitting next to a group of people who were very loud and obnoxious.
There was singing. Clapping. Finger snapping. Talking about how Obama is finna clean up this country and all the dumbass motherfucking white people finna deal with that shit.
I was sitting in a seat at Night at the Apollo.
Normally I wouldn't care, but I was trying to sleep, and since I like sleep and hate riding the bus, I was grumpy.

The Monday Night Comedy Show went on without me while I was gone. Zissou hosted, and Lindsey and Roni picked up the slack.
I did call in a few times to make sure all was going well. And I read RoboCop II via speakerphone.

Yeah, so then some other stuff happened and it was great.

John and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary of friendship the other night by going to a huge Chines Buffet and watching JAWS on a projector thing he bought on ebay.
We ended the night with a video game and reminisced about the old days. If you ever get a chance to have a J-Man in your life, I highly suggest picking one up. I have a few friends who have been around longer than John, but I did live with him for years, so our knowledge of each other's secrets make us indispensable. And a kind of liability.

I had another 'I need change' freak out last night and rearranged my room. I was playing room tetris for a while, just stacking things on top of other things. When playing room tetris, the lines don't vanish, so I ended up with lots of piles of stuff and a room that had a path to the bed. That's it. So I cleaned. I like to party on my Friday nights, so I was listening to the Esqiuvel cd I got at Cheapo the other day. I don' think there is a math that can calculate how boring I am.

I rarely remember my dreams, but when I do, I think they are awesome. For example:

Last night I was doing the last Monday Night Comedy Show of the year in what could only be described as a lecture hall with very very steep seating. The house was full, but there was an act onstage that no one was laughing at. The audience was getting restless.
I was getting pissed because it was a comedy show, and people needed to laugh.
But then I did some sort of 'Quantum Leap' and found myself in rehearsal for a new broadway revival of something resembling 'The Fantastiks!' I was doing a song with Matthew Broderick and I was dressed up as an animated triceratops. It was a very well made costume, and I could move easily inside it. Think 'Smoochy' but with less padding.
The Director was a really famous one, but I forget who he was.
But both he and Matthew were pissed. We had been rehearsing for weeks, and I should have known the choreography and lyrics. But I was acting like I had just gotten there.
Which I had.
I apologized, and they decided to call it a day. Matthew Broderick was super nice in my dream. I think we may have been friends.
I was sitting on a stairwell that looked like it should have been in a house in the suburbs that was under construction when a little girl started talking to me.
I knew that she was part of the backstage crew, but she told me that I had just been at the last MNCS of the year by my time clock, but that it had actually been a few months and she was at the show too.
I asked her why I was here, and she said that she didn't know, but then all of a sudden I was walking down a brightly lit city street that was glistening due to the recently fallen rain.
Ahead of me were Fozzie Bear and Scooter from the Muppet show. However, they were invisible save for the fact that they were both wearing black berets. So these two floating black berets were ahead of me, and I didn't think it was odd in any way.
The mission we were going on was to help my old friend Amanda escape from some kidnappers.
I had a gun in my hand, and suddenly I was in the house she was being help captive. One of the kidnappers went to the bathroom, and I snuck in to the master bedroom of the house. Amanda asked why I was there, and I said 'To save your ass' I threw an old '80's style rotary phone and cord to the other kidnapper who was lying in the other queen sized bed. I told him to tie himself up when the other kidnapper came in from the bathroom.
I shot him several times in the chest, but he kept coming after me.
Then I shot him in the foot and he fell like a ton of bricks. The other guy was neatly tied up, but I shot him in the foot anyway.
I somehow knew that Amanda would be safe, but Fozzie and Scooter never showed up again.

Then I woke up.

So that was my dream.

Tonight I am going to The Rollergirls season opener.

Tomorrow I work in the AM.

Tomorrow night, I start making christmas presents. I'm very crafty.

Stay Awesome until next time, when I will remind you again.

Andy

Brief update whilst I linger.

2008-11-28T04:14:00.000-08:00

I am currently in The Chicago Union Station.
In a few moments, I will know what McDonald breakfast truly tastes like firsthand.
The trip so far has been mediocre.
I was sitting in front of the most flamboyant party boy I have ever encountered.
He was talking very loudly to his friends who were wrapping up their evening with a lot of ecstasy at some house party after the club.
He had to repeat every mildly witty comment he made about having to 'slap a bitch'
about three times in a row so he could be secure in the fact that they had heard him and his wit was in fact appreciated.
And then things got serious. He had to send a text to let a person know how he really felt about him.
And this text would end the friendship because of how this person reacted to a facebook video and how they put so and so on the top of their myspace friends list.
By the way, I am being serious. These things came out of his word hole.

There is a scheduled pit stop between Minneapolis and Chicago at a truck stop.
And since it was 3 in the morning when we got there, the taco bell and Subway was closed.
I was hungry, since I didnt have any Thanksgiving dinner (Pity me) so I bought some soup.
I nuked it in the microwave they offer to truckers, but by the time I saw that they didnt have any forks or spoons, it was too late. It was one minute and forty five seconds too late.
I drank the soup and burnt my lip on the metal ring.

I thought metal was bad in microwaves. I have never understood that.

I did notice that they sold what looked like Microwave dinners, but boy was I still living in the dark ages.
These meals heated themselves.
By a chemical process known as Magic, I could have a thing of Lasagne in 10 minutes.

If you think I am coming home without some, you would be wrong.
Sadly, they are cost prohibitive at almost $7.00

They also had cups of coffee that heated up using the same process (magic)

Well, my trip is underway. I haven't slept a whole lot, but sleeping is for lazy robots.

What's that, McDonalds? Oh. I'll be right there.

Happy Black Friday. I want Batman Legos for Christmas.

Stay Awesome, weary travelers.

Andy

Tis a gift to be simple, Tis a gift to be free.

2008-11-27T07:26:00.000-08:00

And so the season begins.
Today, as it happens is Thanksgiving.
And while I try my best to not follow the rest, I feel it only appropriate to say what I am thankful for.
Because today we tell all. A cornucopia (Corn of plenty?) of things we ought to say everyday, but are too busy telling stories about squirrels in kitchens and who is playing The Monday Night Comedy Show.
I'm thankful.
I am crazy thankful.
I am thank.
I am full. Wait, no I'm not. I am working.
And I will not be enjoying too much food until Saturday night, when I am surrounded by my best friends.
As friends go, I am not one to specify who is 'best' we all know what is best.
Conan says 'To Crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women'
True that, homeboy. True that.
But I do refer to my Indiana clan as my best friends. And I won't take it back.
Nor will I take back this:

Batman is the best fictional character ever created.
Therefore, I am thankful for Bob Kane.

Highlander is one of the best franchises known to mankind. Therefore, I am thankful for swords.
Without those, how would anyone know how to fence?
Or behead someone to take their powers and knowledge?

And little things like watching the movie 'Amelie' alone when you are sad, and being thankful for it making you feel better.
And watching 'Love Actually' with someone you really care about. In the end, you are crying, and holding hands a little tighter so as to not ever let go.
I like making forts and sleeping in them. It makes me feel safe when I am far away from the ones I love. And if I had the technical knowhow to make a throne to sit on as I contemplate my kingdom with a furrowed brow, I would be thankful for that too. Both the throne and the ability to make it.
I like my family quite a bit. I think you should be thankful for them everyday. Not just when you eat turkey or are watching a parade.
But that one is too obvious. And they don't fall under the canopy of 'little things'
They are your team, you know? The ones who have got your back in any situation you may find yourself in.
I may not talk to my family as much as I should, but I think about them a lot. Much more than I ever tell them.
And while we have our own unique brand of problems, we would still sit in a living room together and find ways to make each other laugh. That is what families are all about. To me, anyway.
And my family is a very funny one.
I'm thankful for that, too.
Oh, and Christmas eve, sleeping in front of the TV with the fireplace dvd playing.
With christmas music playing in the background.
And kids playing with wrapping paper more than the toys they just got. I think that is hilarious.
Irony. I am thankful for irony.
And Iron for that matter.
Who has figured out the riddle of steel? Thulsa Doom, that's who.
Seriously, watch a movie people. My pop culture only makes you smirk so much until I seem stupid.
I am thankful for my sense of humor.
I like my newest roommate, Dani. She is so much better than the last one. And she is a good baker and lets Chris and I steal tasty goodness.
I am thankful for gadgets. They are fun.
What else? What else?
Coffee. I am thankful for coffee. Oh sweet baby Thor, am I thankful for coffee.
I am thankful that people I went to high school with are still attractive. Even after so many years. Sounds petty, and it is, but I know a lot of good looking people. And when I see what is passed off as 'Hot' in the media these days, I am always comparing those I know to those I see on the telly. And my people always win.
I am thankful that I just typed 'Telly' without thinking about it.
People who tip even though they just bought a can of soda. You guys rule.

Brian Wilson. That is all.

Warm woolen mittens can suck it. Just kidding. I like them, it's just that I don't have any.
Scarves are rad, though.

At any rate, I am not thankful for my short attention span. I would like to write more, and thank all those who keep me in check for the most part, but I think you know who you are.

I brought my sewing kit to work today so I could patch up my bike seat that is in shreds.
I have to get back to that.

I hope you feel thankful all the time.
And I hope you Stay Awesome.
And I hope that you hope I Stay Awesome too, because I would be thankful for that.

Enjoy the day and the night.

Andy

Bored and I am not interesting.

2008-11-23T16:49:00.000-08:00

That horrible girl is here at work.

The one who drunkenly told me that she doesn't like me.
I thought I would be free of her until February. That's when I overheard her say when she would be back for a visit.
She is being very cautious so as to not make eye contact with me.
And her husband gave me a knowing nod.
The nod that says, 'Yeah. I know she sucks out loud. But if I divorce her, she will kill me.'

Tonight was a Thanksgiving style deal at The Beat. On Sunday afternoons, The Beat transforms like Optimus Prime into a church. Aptly named: The Church In Uptown.
I am not sure of the denomination, but It irks me when people think I work at 'The Jesus Coffeeshop'
The only thing church related is the sunday afternoon thing. Other than that, it's just a coffeeshop.
Just like Uncommon Grounds, only without the potpourri dim lighting that makes the owner a complete douchebag. I have heard through reliable sources that he makes you take your laptop up to the 2nd floor after a certain time of day.
Screw that noise.
The Beat is one of those good places to hang out because it's quiet and has free wifi.
Not to mention some of the best coffee drinks in the city. A very under appreciated hotspot in Uptown.
This kind of sounds like an ad for The Beat. It isn't meant to be. I'm just horribly bored and need something to do besides dishes.

Tomorrow is The Monday Night Comedy Show.
Lots of good things to laugh at.
We have Spoken word, Improv and Stand Up.
Speaking of, PAPA SMURF is doing a set tomorrow night.
That's right. You are curious. And it is just like the picture in your head, only when you actually see what is going down, your head will explode.

Just trying my humble best to keep things spicy in the soup that is The MNCS.

You can visit the event page on the facebook HERE.

I hope that link works, as I am really excited for the show.

Thursday means Turkey Day, and I'm working. So if you want to come to The Beat and watch the Turkey Day Parade, please stop by. I'll have it up on the big screen. And I might even sell you coffee.
With working on a holiday when people should be with their families, it means bigger tips from the folks who do come in. They feel sorry for you, and that's ok because I'll need all the pity money I can get because later that night (after I eat dinner with my own family...or parts of it..sigh) I hop on the Megabus to go to Indy.

I'm really looking forward to this visit because I won't be lifting heavy things and putting them into trucks.
This time I'm just going for the company. And to sing some karaoke at the Tree lighting ceremony downtown.
Christmas music.
I LOVE CHRISTMAS MUSIC.
There. I said it. I wish I was sorry. I am not.

As it happens, Lindsey and Logan have visited me at work, so now I am not in the mood to write about how bored I am. As now I am not bored.

I will leave you now with the hopes that you will find the time to come to the show tomorrow night.

Have a great night, and sorry that this was not more entertaining.

Stay Awesome,
Andy

Fraketty Frak

2008-11-22T10:33:00.000-08:00

In the last blog I wrote, I talked about washing your hands when you go to the bathroom. It was directed at Men.
I should have said that the same goes for women, but I hold ladies in high regard.
At any rate, I was going to start adding my blogs to a site in Indiana where Networking is the name of the game. And since I would like to meet new people in the Indy City, I thought that they could get to know me by reading some of the bits I write.
So after I posted my blog this morning, I added the same one to this networking site.
This site has special groups for Writers, Performers, business owners, and even bloggers themselves.
And then I got feedback.

This one was from the site moderator:

Andy...I'm sure everyone will appreciate the insights you've shared...although from my perspective, your blog would be just as funny and useful without all the F bombs. Yours is the first post I can recal in 11 months that has made such wide use of the term across as many parts of speech...so I'm not sure whether it should be edited, deleted, or left along. It's not like we've got little kids running around here, but we certainly want to maintain some decorum. I'll leave it up for now...and wait for other ---------s* to weigh in on the topic. Gotta go wash my hands now. These keyboards are filthy things.

And one by a user of the site:

Well, I'll weigh in. This is a post that probably does not belong on --------------*. Not to mention such use of the f-bomb is just classless.

I appreciate the first one, as they mentioned that it would have been funny without the word 'Fuck' used so many times.

But the second person just said it was 'Classless'
Which I like to look at it as me not conforming to any form of class. Or not liking classes in general. Perhaps I am above all classes. Maybe I just skipped class and am just too raw like Eddie Murphy was back in the days before suckling on the teat of Disney.

I don't have any problems taking the blog off the site. In fact, I did it moments after the first response from the moderator dude.

I don't get offended at the word 'Fuck'
Do you?
I do get offended at the word 'Nigger'
Which is why I never use it.
Maybe I am just being silly, but I just don't like being asked to edit my stuff.
And this was the first time for me.
Now, if I was writing this blog for some sort of literary prize or a syndicated paper, fine. I would use less colorful language.

I'd like your thoughts, please.

One of my favourite lines from a movie, and one that I use as often as possible is from 'Snatch'

'Sit down and shut up, you big balled Fuck'

Not really on topic, but I want to share with all you fucks...Heh heh.

I wonder if that second guy was so offended because he doesn't like washing his hands after he pees.

*Left out so as to not identify the site.

Staying Awesome,
Andy

A Public Service Announcement.

2008-11-22T05:52:00.000-08:00

Hi there.
My name is Andrew Brynildson. I am a 30 year old male living in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
There is nothing really special about me when compared to the millions of other guys living on the planet.
I have the same outlook on life as many.
I care a great deal for my family, though as with most, we have our share of problems.
My friends are extensions of my family, and without them, I am truly lost.
I like kids, because I was once one. I think I did a really good job being a kid, which is why I have a mild form of 'Peter Pan Syndrome'
As of right now, this is the only syndrome I have. Knock on wood. It could be worse, you know?
I'm not terribly mean, nor do I sit back and take the proverbial 'shit' when it is thrown my way. You shouldn't throw anything at people unless it is a game where the point is to catch said thrown thing.
I live by the creedo- Be Excellent To Each Other.
It is a variant of The Golden Rule, and I know it comes from the movie 'Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure'
It isn't my favourite movie, but it certainly isn't my least.
I just try not to fuck anybody over. It's a good way to live, and so far, I can't say that I have too many enemies.
Go me.
I am definitely not living the cleanest life I could live.
I am a smoker, I drink whiskey and Diet Coke and I am out of shape.
However, I am not addicted to Meth or Crack. Nor do I have sex with Prostitutes.
I could exercise more than I do, and that smoking thing has got to go.
But at the end of the day, I have it pretty good.
And I have a voice.
Not many people hear it, and even fewer listen to it, but I'll be damned if I will not use this platform of blog to say something that is in dire need of being put out there. If people listen, far out. And if they don't, I can say I did my part. Please note that I am going to be blunt in a style all my own. If I offend, consider the subject matter.
So this one goes out to all the fellas:

Guys, when you touch your dick, wash your fucking hands.

Please note the bold red letters I used to emphasize how serious I am.

I'm a guy. Just like you.
And as men, we are blessed with the ability to do two things:
1) Pee standing up
2) and that is about it.

Women get to have the kids, so they know what it truly is to create something. And speaking of, but not in order, they get to have sex whenever they want.
Many women will call me out on this as being untrue. But as a man, believe me, in 90% of the cases: We would have sex with you. Most Heterosexual mean I know would never pass up an opportunity. And 90% is really being generous. Note that it doesn't even take 50% of the votes to become president of these United States. And I bet those people (Presidents) have sex all the time with anyone ever. It's like a law or something...
In the end, all Men are is some protein and, let's face it - more often than not, a disappointment. We rarely put the toilet seat back down and not a lot of us are very good with preparing food that doesn't come in plastic wrappers.

We are, as a general rule: rather stupid.
Sometimes, however, we are handy with a screwdriver and a nail gun.
But as someone who has been involved with theatre for several years, the female stage techs are considered some of the most attractive. More so than those pesky actresses.
And they know how to use a makita...

Sadly, I am consumed by thoughts of women backstage wearing black and calling out cues on headsets. I have derailed. Back on topic:

Guys. You know where that thing between your pants has been. And you know what you are going to do. You are going right back to the bowl of free peanuts set in front of your barstool.
Not a peanut fan?
How about giving your buddy a high five?
Oh look! You are being introduced to a really pretty girl who likes all the music you like. Neat. You shake her hand, and she has no idea that you were just peeing in a trough. Just like the ones at the Indianapolis motor speedway.
And you walked right past the sink.

Sinks, my children, are the things you rinse and use soap in to clean your hands.

Now, are there times when I am at home that I forget to wash my hands?
FUCK THAT, NO. I JUST TOUCHED MY WANG!

My parents did my part to instill some semblance of 'Don't be an idiot, wash your hands after you pee'

I understand that you have been peeing since before you can remember, guys. I get the fact that you have precise aim, and that most of us can write our names in the snow (The ONLY excuse for not washing, by the way- Doing it outside. )
We usually don't pee all over our hands.
But usually, you do touch your junk.

I remember a friend of mine in high school who swore up and down that he never touched his penis. Not even to urinate.
He was going through a phase of either devout Christianity, trying to impress some girl of the same ilk, or he had just started jerking off and was horrified that he was the only one on the planet who did this.
We countered with "So how do you get it out of your pants?"
'Jesus pulls it out' he glibly retorted.
Ok. he didn't say that, and that sounded really dirty, but you know what IS REALLY DIRTY?

Not washing your hands when you use dirty as shit bathrooms in bars.
Did you not see that scruffy looking nerf herding NASCAR hat wearing DudeGUy with the dollar bill medallion around his neck(that was not worn to be ironic)?
Wanna know what he did today?
He fucked a goat. Who cares what he did today.
Wanna know what he did ten minutes before he took a bite out of your pizza?
"Do you have a cold?"
STOP ASKING THAT, PEOPLE! Start asking 'Hey, did you wash the dick off of your hands before you grabbed my pizza?'

Scenario:

"Can I have a sip of your drink?"
'Do you have a cold?'
"Nope"
'ok'
(grabs the straw, dips his fingers in the drink and mutters something about it being a 'pee pee' drink)

"Hey, can I have a bite of your pizza?"
'I guess so'
"Cool. Hey, do you like the taste of what I touched in the bathroom?"
'What?'
"Nothing. Damn. This Pizza's good as hell."

So guys, please for the love of all that is holy and good: Wash your hands after the bathroom.

Whenever I mention how many guys don't do this when I am at a bar, women are mortified.
And it lessens the chance that you will get laid.
Which, for guys, is usually at a steady 25% chance. Because you are not really that charming.
Wash your hands. The ones who do are always watching, as it ups our own percentage to 51%
And then we become President.

Yours with soap and water,

Andy*

*Stay Awesome

"Nothing. Damn. This Pizza's good as hell."

In which Andrew goes to see Brian Wilson and comes back feeling alive.

2008-11-16T05:48:00.000-08:00

Before I begin, I want to let it known that there are some people who read this on occasion who do not care for the music of Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys.
I know you exist, and no only do I feel sorry for you, but I also want you to go fuck yourself.
I mean that like I mean it when I say "I really like Batman, Highlander and collecting stuff"

Ok. I don't want you to do that, really, but if I may Geek out a little: When it comes to things I like a lot, things that make me think that life is really worth living - Like a Sith Lord, I speak in absolutes.

Last night I went to The Brian Wilson Concert @ The State Theatre in Downtown Minneapolis.
To say that it was a great show would be the same as telling Odin that The Earth and the Cosmos were just 'ok'.
And yes, this blog is going to be a very long one about my undying love for Brian Wilson, among other things. If you don't like passion, sunshine, love and having fun: Please go to the next blog where they talk about which mall they hate the most or which sports team did something that one time.

And away we go:

A few years ago, lets call it ten years ago, as it will be the anniversary of when John Bungert and I became best friends on December 10th(more on that as the day approaches)
J-Man and I were sitting in my apartment on the cusp of the downtown Minneapolis zone talking about music we liked.
John was already an accomplished musician at this time, so his opinion mattered. My own musical tastes had stopped growing three years prior when I graduated from high school.
(Incidentally, I know I am repeating myself from a previous blog, but it is relevant to this one and it's my party)
John spoke of The Beach Boys, and while I considered myself a fan because my Step Mother would only listen to WKLR when driving me around for various things like my summer of Tuberculosis tests, when everyone was convinced I had the consumption but it turned out I was just allergic to the tests. I have fair skin, you see, but I digress.
WKLR was the Oldies station. And growing up, I find I know the words to either too many really good songs that defined and shaped generations, or not enough. Depends on your perspective.
The Beach Boys were always one of my favourites. I knew mostof the words to their standard catalog, but the real heavy stuff was out of my range of knowledge.
He mentioned 'Pet Sounds' and how it was the inspiration for so many albums and bands that I liked.
I said I had not heard of it.
"Let's go" He said without pause.
And we were off to Cheapo to buy a copy. It cost me the last $13 I had to my name, but I got a copy of that album and we listened to it all the way through without speaking when we got back to my place.
When it was done, I needed to hear it again.
And that $13 has been listened to at least a hundred times since then. At least.
There are so many interviews and essays about Pet Sounds that I won't go into detail about how much it meant to me. The lyrics, The Music and the overflow of emotion that that album contains is different for each listener. But I am a firm believer in that album being put on the top of every 'Best of' list.
So my love of The Beach Boys grew and grew since then. So many albums that I wasn't aware of and songs that were better than the last one. And don't get me wrong, there were some crap tracks. Usually when Brian wasn't involved as much as he should have been.
But the vast majority of songs are amazing.
Brian Wilson's use of complex harmonies give them the ability to be 'rediscovered' each time you listen to them. Your brain just doesn't have enough power to grasp everything one of his songs has within it with just one listen. Which is great to me, because I am the type to listen to one song over and over again for an entire week without getting sick of it.
That, and I am a bit dense, so repetition helps things stick. Der Der Der.

Call me a fanboy, call me what you will. I don't give a hoot (to quote Kermit).
Brian Wilson is a genius.
And please don't bring up his depression or the time he spent in self imposed exile from the world.
We all have our off days. Brian just had a lot more than most of us. I feel it adds to his interesting story, and gave him a much deeper well of emotion to draw from with his melodies.
Where was I?
Right. Brian Wilson.
As I write this, I am distracted by shiny things like watching interviews and video of the Man himself. Ergo, this diatribe is taking me forever to write and post.
I own a lot of DVD's that tell his story and has concert footage out the wazoo, but since last night's concert, I am a little BW crazy. I get that way after seeing him or listening to his albums. And since he doesn't tour all that often, I feel fortunate when I get to see him.
J-man has been with me each time, so it has become our thing. Starting with the Pet Sounds Symphonic tour in 2000. Or was it 99? I can't recall exactly, but I do remember audio taping the whole show, sadly hearing nothing but John and I screaming like teenage girls at a boy band concert. Which, incidentally, is all you can hear on the tapes. Us. Screaming about how much we love Brian.
Then we went and saw him open for Paul Simon a few years later. I still feel that Paul Simon should have opened for Brian, but I don't make the rules, I just break them...
I didn't tape that concert, because I just assumed it would be more shrieking.
Then came the SMILE concert. Words can't describe any of these shows, people. And to try and do it is like describing tasting red wine.
I have long thought that asking what wine is like is ridiculous. I worked in a wine shop, and have heard all the descriptions. "Nutty with a vanilla twist and an oak aftertaste bursting with a subtle hint of cherry" It tastes like red wine. Blow me.
My tastes are not cultured, and I will argue till the end that yours are not either. Every person is different. Water tastes like water and feels wet. Snow is cold and Artificial Watermelon tastes like sugary heaven. Do you think differently? Good. You are human.
And just because I like Brian Wilson and you like gangsta rap doesn't mean I'm better than you. It just means I'm happier ;)
I knew that Brian was coming into town with his new album 'That Old Lucky Sun' a couple of months ago. I also knew that I didn't have the money to buy tickets when they went on sale.
I pretty much reserved myself to not seeing Brian this time around.
Life would suck, I'd get over it.
But still, when yesterday came and both John and I felt that Brian needed us in the audience, we decided to try our luck at buying tickets from a scalper.
And keep in mind that our luck has not been the best.
I mean, we don't write dark poetry by streams of black hate in meadows of the damned, but we don't consider ourselves lucky people.
And usually when we want something so bad that food tastes yucky and even kittens don't seem cute, we end up disappointed.
Last night, our luck changed.

A scalper had tickets, and they happened to be in the front row. That's right. The front row. The seats reserved for Kings and radio contest winners. The seats that God herself would have had to pay three times the face value of on ebay for.

In fact, throughout the day, I was looking at craigslist and messaging people who were selling tickets, trying in vain to lowball the insane amount they were asking.
And so, with silly grins, and $60 each paid to the guy in the polar fleece in front of The State Theatre, we watched and listened to Brian Wilson and his Band play some Beach Boy classics and in the second act, listened to the full performance of 'That Old Lucky Sun'.
He ended the entire night with 'Love and Mercy'. One of his best in recent years. Coming a close second to 'Lay Down Burden' that makes me cry everytime I hear it. Written as a tribute to his late brother, Carl, that song really helps my case when I try and convert people from casual listeners to Iron clad fans.

So yeah. I like Brian Wilson.
And after every concert I attend, I like him even more, making a point to thank John for really making me listen that one day. And for making me spend my last $13.

I have always offered to make my friends and family cd's of his music. And the mixes that I make are always available for the asking. Even now. Because if I can get one person to really like his music as much as I do, then I've done my good deed for the day.
Please, ask me for a cd. I'll gladly make you one.

In other news, I am having trouble with a tooth, and it is boring a hole into my brain. I need to go to NIP and have it either pulled, or blasted out of my skull with some C4. It is causing me to lose sleep and crave soup. I never crave soup. I am not usually a soup guy.
Soup. Soup Soup.
And tomorrow is The Monday Night Comedy Show. Lots of good acts, per usual. If you can make it, please come. You can find the facebook event page here:

MNCS!

And if that link doesn't work, you are out of luck, as I am impressed I know what a link is.

I am here at The Beat Coffeehouse in Uptown until 3pm, where you can come and say hi to me and listen to Pet sounds and Die Prinzen mixed with some Elvis and REM. I may be a Brian Wilson fan, but I am also and eccentric billionaire who moonlights as a poor Barista and Blog writer.
Please keep in mind, my opinions are my own, and you should follow them to the letter.
Have a phenomenal day, you Space Aces.

Yours with a bushy bushy blond hairdo*,
Andy

*Which also means Stay Awesome

Short update. Reports of my death greatly exaggerated.

2008-11-09T08:09:00.000-08:00

It's been too long, my disciples of funk.
I missed you too, but before we get all weepy, let me tell you about my yesterday:

I did absolutely NOTHING.
It was glorious. But towards the end, I was getting a bit cabin feverish.
What did nothing entail?
Movies. Lots of them.
Here's the list:

Starting with INTERVIEW WITH A VAMPIRE at the silly hour of 8am.

Slept for a bit, and then popped in LOVE ACTUALLY. I might have cried at the end. I can't remember.

Then came ELECTRA. Oh red corsets, you never stop making sense. And neither do comic book movies. No matter how silly. And that one guy from Precsilla Queen of the Desert was in it as a blind master of using pool cues as weapons. I kept asking the TV "Oh Felicia, where the fuck are we?" whenever he appeared.

I was then in need of some British fare, so I had Danny( the new roommate) put in ABOUT A BOY because I was too lazy to get up from the couch.

As if I hadn't seen enough Hugh Grant, I immediately had to watch MUSIC & LYRICS to see if Whats-her-face had gotten all that orange shit off her face from all the make up ads she has been doing. Drew Barrymore. That's the one.

After I had wondered why I watched that movie, I wanted to see OFFICE SPACE since I hadn't seen it in a while.

I ended the day with THE STEPFORD WIVES. Why? I like robot women and Ferris Buehler.
And Christopher Walken. These are things I like.

Then I slept the sleep of the just and true. Only to wake up and almost be late for work at 7am because my bike lock was frozen. Dick move, Mother Nature.

What did you do yesterday? I don't care.

In other recent news, I went to Indianapolis a couple weeks ago to help the Dorch Gang move into their new digs in Irvington. A much better neighborhood than 38th & Pennsylvania, where shootings were every 20 minutes or something.
I helped Lindsay move out of the 3rd floor.
Svet, Jen & Lisa/James/Pants out of the 2nd.
Jenny & Hammam hired pro movers, so they are dead to me as I earned no brownie points from them.
Thankfully, they are only living about three or so blocks away, so the big family stays together.
The heavy lifting, I could have done without, but seeing them all so excited to be in a nice new place that is much safer and has huge potential as being the best place ever makes me happy.

I took The MegaBus there again.
I had a so so time with that, so I will give them another try at the end of the Month when I go for 'Orphan Thanksgiving'

I may get all decadent and try to fly in to Chicago via Southwest and the $69 one way thing they have. But then Megabus it from there to Indy. I would need some help navigating the trains I would need to use from my chicagoan peeps.

I have been kept busy for the last 7 hours with "people" wanting 'Coffee Drinks"
I thought I would have more to tell you, but I thought wrong.
We are getting Interweb at the Mansion today, so if I have more to say, I will do it on crispy new interweb alpha rays.

Your Mom Stays Awesome.

Andy

High Adventure that's beyond compare.

2008-10-15T14:54:00.000-07:00

I am a mighty hunter.

You will now be graced with one of my many powerful sagas. Viking style.

Today I awoke to the sounds of MPR and talk of Sarah Palin's whoo whoo being unfit for bla bla bla.
The snooze button and I are close friends, even though sometimes I ignore the alarm altogether.
Today was my day off. So I tried to stay in bed.
But not for long. For today, I was destined to fight a beast of terror.
A demon from the pits of hell itself. Sent by the dark lord to avenge all of the times I have been nice to kids or listened to the stories of the elderly with patience and even interest.
The Devil, just this morning was looking through his day planner at the one event he had been counting down to for what to him/her must have seemed like eternity.
Today was 'Fuck with Andy Day'
He even used an orange highlighter(my own personal favourite, just to be ironic), circling the event that was to take place in my home.
He could have sent a three headed dog or zombie versions of relatives long since passed.
Instead, the clever Devil sent the equivalent to a hallmark card of the animal kingdom.

A baby squirrel.

I was minding my own business, heating up some 'easyMac' in the magic electro-radiation oven.
I would go into my love of pre-packaged food where all that is needed of you is to add water and wait three and a half minutes, but that is for another blog. I am a hunter. And you need to hear my tale.

I hopped back into the living room to see when the actual date of the end of the world was according to Nostradamus. I was watching the History channel. They were stalling, because the show was supposed to be like two hours.
I could wait. For I am a mighty hunter.
So I head back into the kitchen, but before I even left the living room, I saw him. Or her. It could have been a girl.
The Squirrel.
It was running into the kitchen.
My cat, Selina Kyle-Freedom Cat-Brynildson was watching it with fear. She is an inside cat. Therefore, useless.

'Oh Fuck me! There is a Squirrel in the house!"

I run to Chris's door and tell him the news. I want to say he started crying, but I think he was on the phone.
I run to my room, which is between the kitchen(squirrel) and myself(hunter)
I grab my favourite sword and head into battle.
The squirrel is trying desperately to get the hell out of there, knowing that I am not scared at all.
It was behind the radiator. Next to the wine rack. Under the Jaws clock.
Chris shows up with a hockey stick. His tears were dried now, and he was ready for battle.

"We need a net" Said Chris.

"We need a gun" I replied. "Wait, I have an idea!"
I ran into my room and produced a roll of gauze type fabric that was a remnant of an art project I never finished.
"Let's use this as a net."
"Good plan. I'll drive it out from behind the radiator."
The hockey stick, when used by one who actually knows how to use it on the ice, can be a formidable weapon. However, when it is being used to drive a little squirrel from behind a place where there normally are not squirrels, by a guy who is just a bit on edge because there is a fucking Squirrel in the house, not so useful.
The beast climbed up the cord for the clock, and into the wine rack.
I had done a few dishes earlier, while waiting for my easy mac to heat up. So there were clean glasses drying in top of the rack.

"That fucker is inside the wine rack. It's gonna break some glasses!" I told Chris.
" Not on my watch!" Chris heroically said back. "I'll tap the rack until he comes out"

He did this, and in doing so, made the already scared Squirrel even more scared. It jumped out onto the counter, leaped over the sink and landed on the floor into the laundry room.
"Ahhh!"
"Ahhh!"

I forgot to tell you that I had grabbed both of my laundry baskets that were full of clean clothes I have been meaning to fold and put into the dresser for some time now. I dumped out the clothes onto the bed and was thinking of using them as a cage to imprison the Hellish abomination of fuzzy-tailed baby-Squirrel.
So I did that earlier.

The Squirrel was climbing up a laundry bag and trying to get a hold of anything that would make it have the higher ground.
But in the end, it just gave up and hid behind a pipe leading to the upstairs apartment.
But we could see it. It wasn't moving.
"Maybe we should spray it with water to get it out?" asked/suggested Chris (who was sitting on top of the washing machine with his hockey stick)
"But then it might get cold when we get it outside."
"Who the fuck cares?! You were going to stab it with the sword"
While the thought did originally cross my mind, I soon realized that I was not going to be able to live with myself if I stabbed a baby Squirrel with a sword.

"I was not! I just wanted to maintain dominance over it."
"Maybe it wants to be our new roommate? Do we have a spray bottle?"
I looked for one, but all I found were spray bottles with stuff inside them.
"Only ones with Chemicals still inside them. They might kill it."
Chris looked at a bottle of Orange scented cleaner and read the label.
"Chris, are you looking for the warning about spraying woodland creatures? I don't think it has one."
"ok. Get me a glass of water"
I get the glass and he starts flicking water at the scared little thing. It sinks deep into the corner and is making a lot of pissed off sounds.
"It's making a lot of pissed off sounds, Dude." I say, not wanting it to have a heart attack.
Then Chris spills the water all over the top of the washer and his pants.
"God damned Squirrel. You shouldn't be in here. Ok. I'll try to get him out with the stick"
Chris poked and prodded the little guy for what seemed like an hour, but it wouldn't move.
I took the gauze-type stuff and threw it over the Squirrel as best I could.
"Good!" said Chris. "You got it over him! Now I will try and get him caught in it."

Chris didn't really do much to get him caught in the fabric, but instead stayed on the washer and poked the Squirrel some more with the hockey stick.
"You really should stop making him make those sounds, Chris. It's freaking me out."
"Now! Put the laundry basket over it!"
I did it, and somehow, the Squirrel was trapped. But it was a little guy, so it was sticking way too much of it's head and feet/hands out of the holes in the basket.
"It's gonna get out! what the fuck do we do?!" I might have shown a little fear in my voice just then...
" Dude. I don't know! this is my first squirrel. lets just pull it outside."
"If we do that, it will get out the bottom and then it will get out and run into your room and eat you in the night"
"Fuck that."
"We need something flat to slide underneath it, then get it outside"
I went to the kitchen and found nothing useful. Then I had a bit of inspiration.
"Use the gauze type stuff to make a bottom to the cage!"
" It keeps making that noise. I think it hates us."
I grab the extra fabric and make it so the laundry basket is contained and that the Squirrel can't get through. All without being bitten by it and becoming a Squirrel myself at night. Because that is what happens.
We take the basket/fabric/Squirrel out the back door and Chris gives me the whole thing after I assure him I have it all secure. The Squirrel is gripping the fabric that is taught over the opening of the basket. Chris looks at him: "He isn't very big."

"You wanted to kill him."
"No I didn't. you did."
"Well, I am glad it didn't come to that. I was just protecting you. He's safe now. We all are.
I'll let him go."

I throw the basket into some lowlying bushes and the Squirrel quickly climbs a fence and stares at us.

"Please don't come back in our house." I tell him.

All this seemed like it took all day long, but when we got back inside, the easyMac was still hot.
And they still hadn't figured out when Nostradamus said the world was going to end.

Maybe they never will. Not with Mighty Hunters like Chris and I on the job.

Stay Awesome.

Andy

Here's to you, my Mrs. Robinsons...

2008-10-14T01:11:00.000-07:00

I warn you, this will be a very short blog.
For those of you who are used to my usual long winded, where the hell is the point blog, I assure you: this is going to be lack-luster at best.

I am finding myself dropped in many situations where my wit and charm just isn't enough to get by.
I surround myself with people who consistently make me laugh and smile. Who make me realize that I am so very fortunate to know as many talented individuals as I do. There are those few select that never make me feel that I need to be funnier than the majority. Or that I need to prove myself more worthy of a simple laugh.
I type as I think, so maybe this will not come out as clearly as I want it to, but I really want all those who just think of me as 'Andy' and not some 'comma-splice using ass-hat' to know that I value everything you bring into my life.
The day I forget that will be a dark and emo day indeed.
And so I bid you a good night. I wish that all your dreams are intermixed with Tim Burton imagery and the bold colours of a Gauguin. Maybe even a Mondrian. (I'm not sure if I spelled that right. I meant the guy who did all the art with the lines and boxy colours. Linds knows who I mean. Ask her.)
Never ever think that I do not value what you bring to my table.
Now stop stealing my hat unless you look better in it than I do. Or I put it on your head.

And now I go dream that I am immortal. Or Finnish. Those are crazy dreams. I own a fish shop and at night I fight demons. Odin(god) I wish you could be in my head...

Good show tonight, everyone.

Stay Awesome.

Andy

Easy like Monday Morning.

2008-10-06T06:28:00.000-07:00

This is what is running through my head:
Two households. Both alike in dignity. In fair Verona, where we lay our scene.
From ancient grudge, break to new mutiny.
Where civil blood, makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-crossed lovers take their lives.
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows,
Do with their death, bury their parent's strife.

Now, stop me if you've heard this one, but I think it a little bit strange that I chose to repeat this classic opener over and over. Outloud. With an accent once again. I think you can catch me at my oddest (is that a word?) when I am alone in the early AM.
I could at least be singing 'Mambo #5'
Or re-write the words to 'Story Book Story', the love song by Mark Knopfler(spell?) from the soundtrack to 'The Princess Bride'
Speaking of, I think that movie was the only one ever made that makes any sense to me.
Call me obtuse(great vocab word from 5th grade) but I think every movie should contain at least one visit to Miracle Max and Andre The Giant should be in the background rhyming everything you say.

Have you ever listened to that song? The melody is really pretty, and widely known as the background music to the kiss that put all the rest to shame. But the lyrics are lacking in the way Sarah Palin lacks the ability to even spell the word 'Maverick' (oooh. Scathing political commentary)

Also, if I hear the word 'Maverick' come out of Sarah Palin's poor excuse for a Tina Fey mouth just one more time, I will do something rash.
Like start exercising my inner demons or start being nice to kids at the Lego store at the Mall of America when they tell me that their car they built is the 'Champion' or 'The most unbeatable' Do you know what IS beatable, little Champion? You are. It takes 70 pounds of pressure to break the average human bone, kid. I learned that from Batman.
Fucking Mavericks.

And on that most random of notes, I really liked the Kenneth Branaugh version of Hamlet, but HATED the Mel Gibson version. What does that say about me as a person?
Leave your thoughts in the comment section.

This morning, on a whim, I bought a ham and cheese Hot Pocket.
You may not think that this is a very big deal, but for me, it was a proactive move.
I may be hungry later.

And so starts my day.

I closed the shop last night, and was here bright and early this morning.

Not only am I surrounded by coffee, but I am the proud owner of a Hot Pocket.
A big one, too.

Today shall be a good day.

In other news,
Tonight brings another Monday Night Comedy Show into the world. And at 8lbs 7 ounces, tonight's show will bring joy and sleepless nights to all those who enter our operating theatre.
And admission is only $3.
Even my broke ass can afford it if I wan't working so hard to make you like me. Therefore, I get in for free.
Speaking of 'Free' or rather, 'Freedom' We will be having the official:

PRESIDENT OF COMEDY ELECTIONS
The last two weeks of October will bring us to the first week in November, which just happens to be the night before Election day. The real one. The big one.
The one that matters.
I will be running against at least four other people, so if you want to make sure I don't win, become mad with power, allow a 700 million dollar bail out for small Comedy Theatres and then inadvertently choose a mass murderer's Jam in a county fair/prison system 'get to know your roadside help' mixer/ Jam competition. Thus ruining my political clout, forcing me to kill again.

You should vote for me, though, because I'm your buddy.

More on the election as the debates draw near. Just mark your calendars for the last two weeks of October and the first week of November.

Columbia House keeps emailing me. I think they actually think I am going to pay for the dvd's I ordered from them while I was a bit tipsy a few years ago.
What they don't know is that I was stealing from them.
Vote for me.

Ok. Have a good day. Hope to see you at the show tonight. If you don't come, I will know that it is because you are busy writing me a letter. Via Post. Old School.

Stay Awesome or I'll do the last bit too. Oh fuck it:
A glooming peace this Morning with it brings. The sun, for sorrow, will not show it's face.
Go. Have talk to these sad things. For never was there a tale of more woe, than this of Juliet. And her Romeo.

Andy

ps- The Hot Pocket was so choice. If you have the means, I highly suggest picking one up.

Your Mom writes a blog.

2008-10-02T12:04:00.000-07:00

Under Pressure is one of the best songs ever written.
I just had to get that out there. We were all thinking it.

Last night at the Green Mill, I was having some cocktails with Amanda, Zissou and The Dez. When we walked in, I was passing a table where a couple of regulars were having their own cocktails with a girl who used to work at the beat and who, if I am still up to date on her life, doesn't live here anymore, but still picks up the occasional shift when visiting her family. I already know too much about her based on what I just wrote.
As I passed, i said hello to the regulars and kept walking to our table.
And the other girl said "I don't like him" (She meant me)
What was I to do?
Doesn't everybody like me?
I mean, aside from the owner of a local comedy theatre because I constantly talk about him in my blog. All the time. I just can't stop...
I am such a likable person!
More or less.
I think it sent me spiraling down to a private Hell of self doubt.
Yep. That's what happened.
She and I have never really spoken much. In fact, I don't know her last name. I barely remember her first name. But here she is all 'not liking me' and stuff, and I can't figure it out.
She is one of those people who has a lot of piercings who looks like she shouldn't have a lot of piercings.
The kind of person who is edgy to a point, but when she goes on a job interview or to church with her family, she takes out all the piercings and places them in a little bowl that has a Hummel figurine in it who is dressed up as a hobo. She is only proud to be a unique individual when others are not looking or offering her eternal life or a job with a 401K.
I suppose that there are just some people you don't click with.
I often think about my Lisa and how she was really not clickable when I first met her. She was loud and opinionated and kinda mean to people who were mean to her. And I think that when i realized she wasn't the type to just doll out friendship like they were nilla wafers in a preschool, that is when I knew I wanted to earn her friendship. Because if I had it, I would have it for life.
And even if I tried to leave her circle, I would have to put up one hell of a fight. Or go batshit crazy and become racist and kick puppies across streets with razor blade cars screaming by.
(They exist in my head, those Razor blade cars. And i always come up with new models every year. This year they have 3 more cup holders and optional spoilers. Very nice. Eat shit, General Motors)
Maybe I just think that since I have climbed the mountain and made nice with Lisa and Jenny, I can really win over just about anyone.
Now, don't misconstrue this rant I am on as Jenny and Lisa being impenetrable blocks of icy fear monsters. No way. They rule, and are very kind when the situation warrants with strangers and the occasional child in a restaurant.
Though, everyone knows you shouldn't bring a kid into a restaurant until they are at least 10.
And don't get me started on everyone in The Dorchester Gang. Those guys are the best.
I love how 99% of the people who read this blog haven't the foggiest of what I am talking about.
I digress.
I am thinking that I am using my two closest friends as a model for everyone else in my life. And it isn't fair. But I'm a lucky guy and I feel sorry for those who don't have people like that in their lives.
Not many can live up to people who will gladly circle wagons at 4 in the morning when they have a test the next day at 7:30am when you are sad about a commercial you just saw about orphans eating Pannini sandwiches at a Cracker Barrel.
Did that make any sense? I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, and I don't like to proof read.
Pannini sandwiches are grilled on both sides in a special grill thing.
Orphans are kids without parents and who shout out headlines from newspapers they sell on street corners.
Cracker Barrel is a place you eat by the side of the highway.
Again, I digress.
So this chick doesn't like me. We never had a fight, nor have I told her that I don't like football.
Assuming she really likes football, and hates everyone who just decided that theatre was 'their thing'
And I was kind of pissed when I heard her say it outloud. In a very passive aggressive way, which is the norm for Minnesotan people.
I'm sure I am just as passive aggressive as the next guy who relies on his blog to really make a statement, but at least I don't do it at a bar, when I have been itching to get into a proper bar fight for as long as I have been allowed to drink legally.
But I want to get into a bar fight for a good reason. Like if a guy is punching a lady in the boob or a girl scout is outnumbered five to one and they all have knives.
Then the world will see a different side of me, i am sure.
Amanda kept me calm, because all I wanted to do was punch that chick in the boob, put on my kelly green beret and beat some ass.
Because truth be told, i don't like her much either, but my double standards are far more powerful than my logic and reasoning skills.
Point in fact, I am a mean little bastard.
But Amanda saved the life of a woman who had too much to drink, and she saved me from myself.
Didn't that sound like a Doogie Howser ending?
Your Mom's a Doogie Howser ending...

In other news:
I got Amanda to the Bus stop this morning, and am feeling a little blue.
But the light at the end of the tunnel is that I will be be in Indy for Halloween.
Looking forward to it is an understatement. Our time in the last three days has been great, and I hope when she comes next time she brings the rest of the Dorch with her. (edited in because I am unobservant)

I might go watch the VP debate tonight at the Riverview Theatre with Chris and Aimee.
Or I might come back to the beat and see the open mic festivus that is going on.
Or i might clean my bathroom floor.
All of these things sound better than politics. Except for the open mic.

In closing, I hope that if you get anything from this blog, you will try to be nice to everybody, and try to become really good friends with a select few who will get your back in any situation.
And if you inadvertently piss off some former co-worker and see her at a bar, don't punch her in the boob.
Don't punch anyone in the boob.
But if your co-worker person is dressed as a Girl Scout and she has a knife, take her out using a very scathing blog the next day.

And remember that Vicki from The Beat is a raging Bitch.

Damn I'm funny.

And everybody likes me. Whoo Boy.

Stay Awesome.
Andy