I just got back from Chicago, where I spent the weekend. It was a friend's wedding and I got about 5 hours sleep the whole weekend. But we had fun. I'll elaborate later.

But I'm so beat and going to bed.

This has been an incredibly bizarre week.

I lapsed on the not smoking thing. I went a month. Shit. I threw a pack from Chicago out just now. Shit.

Remember how I recently mentioned that I'd never really trashed a Hotel room (except for once)? Well, let's just say last night I threw an ottoman into the wall. Copious wall damage. I might explain later. It's a good story.

Again, I just have to say how fucking incredible the film Three Kings is. We watched it in the hotel room yesterday before the ceremony. It makes me incredibly happy, that movie.

Because of the oddness that is my life right now, I found myself crying 3 times this weekend. Probably a record since NYU where all us acting students were these semi-pretentious walking opening wounds...

The first time was during the movie when the young Iraqi asks Marky Mark how he'd feel if he came over and bombed his wife. And you see his sweet chubby little wife on the phone and the kitchen wall just exploding into her as she holds the baby and it is in silence (the use of silence in that scene, man) and Mr. Funky Bunch almost weeps and says, "Worse than death." (b/t/w: someone told me about Marky Mark's posse; one of them is solely a Weed Sifter, to get rid of the stems and seeds).

The second time was during the ceremony when the prayer about for everything there is a season, and I read the words and was shocked to see what all it says there is time for... I think what got me was, "there is a time to plant, and a time to uproot". The violence and consciousness of a decision like that hit me hard. The sometime necessity of it. Turn Turn Turn.

The third was on the plane listening to the United radio and hearing Sting's Brand New Day and actually paying attention to the words.

Yes I'm a big pussy.

OK, I should put my newly delicate soul to bed before I decide not to go to bed.

The Corin "Corky" Nemec Happy Song Corner

 
 
Sweet home, Chicorky.
 
 
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