touchy touchy This was a good weekend. It was the first weekend in a while in which I didn’t have some huge event, something forcing me to get out of bed at 8am. Well, except for the cat licking my elbow. However, on Friday night I went to a get together for Robb. He quit his job earlier that day, and we were celebrating. Todd and I were working on a screenplay at my place so we ponied over to Burbank and met what turned out to be this random group of people, most of whom I had never seen before in my life. Lots of nondescript women from his work. Whatever. So Todd and I just riffed for a while, probably annoying everyone there with our intrusive needy boisterousness, but we enjoyed ourselves. After a while though I just ran out of steam. Ever since we worked together at The Learning Annex in New York years ago, I’ve felt this competition with him that often finds us trying to make others laugh harder than each other. It gets aggravating, mostly because with Todd, I almost always lose. However, I can’t just sort of acquiesce. I have to either battle the self-constructed, probably imaginary battle to the end, or bow out completely and grow sullen. Well, that’s what I did on Friday. The bar/restaurant was annoyed with us so we all decided to head over to Robb’s and sit out on his roof. Well, we got there and Todd is holding court inside and I figured everyone was going to drift outside shortly so I went ahead, pulled out and chair, and sat down with my 40. Twenty minutes later no one had come out, and I continued to sit there out of pure spite. Dumb stupid childish, I know. I couldn’t help myself. So finally, knowing at this point that it looked very obvious that I was mad or something, I came inside. Within about 2 minutes, everyone drifted outside, leaving me and a couple others inside. I know it was nothing deliberate, but I could not help but feel as if this entire subconscious group dynamic was somehow being led by Todd and directly against me. So that as I came in I actually repelled the entire group outside, compelling them to make me feel like shit. Naturally this existed all in my head as I spent the next 15 minutes just looking pissed and pensive in this little black hole of high-school bitterness that I had somehow allowed myself to fall into – nay, actually deliberately rappelled down into – and people kept asking me, "Is something wrong?". No one had any idea which naturally made me all the more pissed off until I just got up and left. Later as I sat on my couch smoking year-old weed and watching South Park I realized with the crystalline clarity that comes from Northern California pot that I had acted like a total douche. Once an overly-sensitive teenager, always one. This is where I let Larry King take over my body for a few minutes. I feel very bad for Stephen King. I don't even read his stuff very often but I have to commend him for not only his insanely prolific nature, but also his artistic courage. I hope he is OK...I'm a bit worried because everyday I leave work earlier and earlier. I think I'm going to get in trouble...Road Rules started tonight. I find the Real World to be much more interesting as it focuses on the people without the distraction of the events, but it's still a hoot...
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