Looking Around My Room, I Wonder...

...When did I get all of this crap?

Wouldn't it be awesome if you could just snap your fingers and find all of your stuff packed and loaded into the u-haul when you were in the process of moving? I mean I would willingly unload the truck, it's just getting all of this stuff together that's going to take forever.

It would also be awesome if I was organized to begin with. Then the task wouldn't be so daunting.

What if there was a service that airlifted your room as is and just dropped it in it's new location?

Or like a gigantic suction tube, that that sucked it all up into the truck and spit it back out into the new apartment.

Or like one gigantic suitcase, big enough for furniture and all. Sure it would be heavy, but it's nothing that a good dolly couldn't tackle.

Matter of fact, why isn't there an iPhone app to make moving more painless?

Or an iPad app?

Initially I thought it was a waste of money, but if the thing could break down my futon for me I would willingly give Apple more of my hard-borrowed money.

Thinking about it, one really has to be unhappy with the state of their current accommodations to willfully undergo the arduous task of moving. The only thing less exciting than it is probably taking a punch in the face from Mike Tyson in his prime. Or even Mike Tyson now. Though I think that if Mike Tyson asked to punch me in the face in exchange for doing all my packing and moving for me I would strongly consider it. Sure it would hurt, but I'd have so much moving-free time to convalesce.

Ryan the Sound Guy

What Happened?!?

From Manahattan: "Talent is luck. The important thing in life is courage."
Damn, this man is a genius...

After only four hours of sleep I woke up Monday morning with a ridiculously fierce chest cold and a severe realization that there were only two weeks of school left. Such extreme circumstances are capable of bringing only one question to mind: What the hell happened?

This school year is easily traceable in terms of my mood and energy level. If I were good at math and charts and graphs and all the stuff that I ostensibly avoided by studying film, I would draw up a diagram that shows the correlation between the progression of the year as it related to the devolution of my energy, ambition, excitement, etc. Since the final product of the year will be birthed next weekend when I show my second year film to New York's unforgiving public, it seems fitting that I divide this arduous journey which I am near completing into trimesters.

Trimester 1: Late August-Early October

Distinguishing Characteristics: Energetic, excited, inspired, ambitious, and imbued with a general sense of invincibility.

Description: In the throes of my favorite part of the filmmaking process, writing, I was inspired by every single little thing that happened to and around me. The Tigers were leading their division and on their way to a playoff berth! Inspiration. My friend, Cathlin, arrived in New York City! Inspiration. They put extra rice in my burrito at Chipotle! Inspiration. I felt unstoppable and on my way to an incredible year.

Trimester 2: Mid October-Mid January

Distinguishing Characteristics: Anxious, nervous, self-doubting, exhausted, and imbued with a general sense of being in over my head.

Description: By far the most exhausting period of my life and one that was well documented here in this blog. Began by the Tigers blowing their playoff chances in a tie-breaking game with the Minnesota Twins. Proceeded to me somehow finishing production on my film and crewing on seven other films as a sound recordist. Ended with my being a shell of the man I was before.

Sidenote: I've always had this inability to get stressed when the situation calls for a need to feel stressed. It's a little bit persistent optimism a little bit naivete, but I think it's a reflex that most people have for a reason and is both a blessing and a curse not to have. Stress is what kicks us into high gear and helps us perform when circumstances are dire. Anybody who knows me knows that I'm a generally easy-going guy. This doesn't change when I'm under pressure. Probably the reason that my shoot went as smoothly as it did and I made through the rest of production period with my mind in tact. Definitely the reason why my shoot should have been a complete disaster. Where I lack stress I maintain neurotic anxiety in abundance. Balance?

Trimester 3: Late January-Present

Distinguishing Characteristics: Exhausted, disenchanted, lonely, and imbued with a general sense of inspiration (?)

Description: Edit film. Screen to class/faculty. Get ripped apart. Fix film. Screen to class/faculty. Get ripped apart. Re-edit/fix film. Screen to class/faculty. Get ripped apart. If you've noticed a pattern here, it's because there is one. There's nothing more demoralizing than working on something that you've put your heart into and seeing it not work they way you had originally hoped in the writing stage. Granted, our films (alternate reading: lives) are treated as works in progress until we get to the end of year screening (alternate reading: the pearly gates), the fact remains that art is made for an audience and if the audience doesn't buy wholesale into it and love it, the artist feels as though they've failed. I realize that it's a teacher's job to be critical, but damn, you can at least tell me what actually works in my film as opposed to relentlessly hammering on the things that don't. (I've since gotten compliments on the story, acting, and editing.) It's been a rough 2010, but I'm inspired by the horizon and the ideas that I have simmering in my head right now that will find their way onto paper this summer.

So as I continue to fight this awful cold and catch up on all of the end of semester projects that I've successfully procrastinated on doing to this point, I have a general sense of what happened. I had experiences. You know those things that make up life and that we're supposed to learn from. A hard year it was, but I can definitely say that I've grown from it, both as a filmmaker and an individual. There's this old quote from Thomas Carlyle that I remember hearing when I was a freshman or sophomore in high school on the basketball team and getting VERY little playing time despite working hard in practice everyday. It went:

Permanence, perseverance and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak.

I'll be damned if anybody ever calls my soul weak...

Ryan the Sound Guy

Boca Meatless Chik'n Nuggets

I like Boca, it's Nice.

Remember a while ago when I used this blog as a medium for complaining about the inequality between the insurmountable intolerability of Tofu Pups and their interminably instant ease of preparation? Oxymorons aside, I had another ridiculously long day in which I didn't get home until 11 pm after leaving my apartment for school at 9:15 am. Needless to say I wasn't in the cooking mood. Needlesser to say, I didn't have any Tofu Pups in my fridge.

Given that it's been a good week since my transition to non-contrived vegetarianism, I decided to take a trip to the grocery store yesterday to explore what the Spanish would call opciones para mi sustenance when I stumbled upon a miracle.

Maybe I was too tired to be super-discerning. Maybe the consuming of anything edible would have satiated my hunger enough for me to fall asleep. Maybe I dreamt the whole thing (including this blog post). But, I will go on record as saying that Boca Meatless Chik'n Nuggets have delivered fast, quick, and delicious food where Tofu Pups failed oh so miserably.

10 minutes in the oven and a little hot sauce and ranch dressing later I have a ridiculous grin on my face that has nothing to do with the awesome weekend that's just over the horizon or the fact that the Tigers staged their second incredibly awesome comeback of the season today.

Thank you, Boca. It's good to have a friend like you as a beacon to bring me home on manic days such as these.

Now, I pass out...

Ryan the Sound Guy

Indecision...

Rodin and I would have been bros.

Decisions. We make a countless number of them everyday and don't even think twice about most of them. Remember this morning when you pressed snooze half a dozen times? That was a compilation of a half dozen decisions. Remember when you had to choose between the t-shirt or the ascot to accompany your tweed jacket? That was a compilation of a half dozen decisions. Remember when you decided to cross the street against traffic and flip the bird to the cabbie that almost took your life? That was also a compilation of a half dozen decisions. In my life and time I've found that decisions can be lumped into one of two distinct categories: Convictionariables and Noncertainafiables.

The first category is easy to define. You're in a situation in which you know for a fact that what's in your heart is what's true. Examples of this are when you decide to step over dog excrement on the sidewalk, when you take your first sip of beer on a Friday night and know that it's going to be a solid weekend, and of course when you turn on the TV to find the episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air on where Carlton overdoses on amphetamines at the school prom and you know that that particular half hour of your life can be spent in no other way but watching it. Certain things are able to exist beyond reproach or argument. Convictionariables are these such things.

Noncertainafiables are those things that are capable of being deliberated over eternally. Things that you can never be really sure about and will spend the rest of time second guessing, vetting, and doubting. Examples of these include whether to become a dog owner, choosing between regular fries or sweet potato fries, or deciding whether modern art is really worth your time and attention. (People will tell you over and over again that the MoMA is SOOOOO cool, and you'll be inclined to believe them despite how pointless most of it is to you. It's a vicious cycle.)

I find myself caught in one of each these days, but will use this post to speak on the latter. The noncertainafiable in which I find myself trapped is that of choosing a new apartment. (Cue foreboding music.)

I've always been a very indecisive guy in general. It's a component of my Achilles heel. So when it comes to making a critical decision such as where I'm going to be living for the next year, I buckle under the pressure and prolong the inevitable, convinced that I am capable of exploring each and every one of my options before I have to make a decision.

Not possible.

Apartments fly on and off the market in this city faster than you can whip out your check book to make a deposit. (I feel like that sentence is pretty flat in this context, but would be a pretty juvenile yet clever euphemism were this blog more lurid.) And, it's people like me who end up in overpriced East Village crackerjack boxes because they move to slow.

I've been told throughout my adult life that I have to eventually learn to grow out of my slow moving ways and be more bold and decisive so this situation is nothing new. But, until I make that change I'll leave you with this inspiring example of bold decision making:

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xcrunt_addition-fail_fun

Ryan the Sound Guy

Opening Day/Notes from a Vegetarian?!

Two posts in one. I must be crazy.

I woke up this morning. I woke up this morning with a strange feeling. I woke up this morning with a strange feeling that there was something dramatically different but strangely familiar about today. In the words of Stephane Miroux in the oft-referenced blog favorite The Science of Sleep, I wasn't sure if what I was feeling was nostalgia or the need to go to the bathroom.

Could it really be here already? I got up to check my calendar. I don't have a calendar. I got up and opened up my computer. Yes. Yes, it was. Yes it was April 5th. Opening day of my completely heterosexual summer obsession. That's right folks. Detroit Tigers baseball has finally arrived in 2010!

Words cannot properly describe my happiness but they're whispering from behind my mind's curtain to be given a college try. So, my lovely readers, I turn the floor over momentarily to my esteemed collaborators with whose help this blog and my prospective livelihood would be impossible. Let's hear it for words.

(Words enter, stage right)
Baseball good do fun thing bat with field and home run mitt slide three strikes excitement for bases stealing bleachers. me take out game ball for jack crackers and sodee popp. tigers play!

(Words exit, stage left)

Thank you, Words.

With all this baseball excitement it will be nearly impossible to complete all of my end of semester projects, but I shall do my best.

Switching gears slightly, as you all may know Easter was the past Sunday. While I was too busy closed off in my dark and hot room editing my brains out to celebrate the holiday with my annual one-man Easter egg hunt (yes, I both hide the eggs and seek them. It's very zen), I did not however fail to recognize that Lent was over and thus was to end my separation from meat and vegetarianism. Parting is such sweet sorrow. (Can somebody explain the oxymoron of this statement, how can parting be sweet and sorrowful?) But, the end of Lent met its match in my spotty OCD.

When I develop a pattern of behavior for myself it's often hard for me to break it. This is the explanation behind why I have seen so many movies, watch baseball everyday of the summer (heaven), and run so much. When I find something that I'm really into and am able to find a deeper meaning in my experience of, I tend to stick to it steadfastly. Such is the case with foray into vegetarianism.

Since seeing a film called "Our Daily Bread" (an artsy observational documentary about the food industry) a few years ago, I had been thinking about what it would be like to be a vegetarian. However, I found that I loved burgers too much to give it serious thought. Then, I saw a film called "Food Inc." last year and my mind was blown. I could never look at meat again the same way.

I saw Lent as as good a reason as any to challenge myself to become a vegetarian figuring that it was only 40 days, I have an awesome Vegan friend who can cheer lead me through it, and my parents wouldn't think that I'm a heathen when they heard that I'd be forgoing something so drastic in the name of Jesus. I have to say that 40 days can be utterly enlightening folks. (Actually, I think the Bible said that first in way, hence the point of Lent. But, if the s.o.b.'s from Westboro Baptist Church can co-opt it's message to distort it, I can co-opt it in an attempt to illuminate it.) Illuminate on.

I'm proud to say that I've made it two days through post-Lent vegetarianism and see no end in sight. What's that? Oh, I think Words wants to say something again. Let's hear it again for Words, guys.

(Words enters)

Broccoli

(Words exits)

Thank you words. You summed up this post very nicely.

Ryan the Sound Guy