Speechless

That’s what I am. I have nothing to report, nothing to discuss and nothing with which to even amuse myself.

I am bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored.

If you have ever processed manuscript for a textbook, you know the boredom of which I speak. Colon crushing boredom. You sit there with the fruits of your year-long labor in front of you and think, “wow, I have to go through that and do really boring things to it. Yay.”

So, what’s going on with you? Nothing? Good. Keep it that way.

The only thing I have to report is that I’m looking forward to this album.

That and a Flaming Lips EP that’s due out soon. It has a new Christmas song, so I’ll definitely need that for “A Very Gary Christmas 2003.” I have a ton of new songs for this year’s version, but nothing I’m terribly excited about.

Wow. How bored am I? I just brought up Christmas in October. I’ve become one of those people.

I could tell you about the squirrels I’ve seen in my back yard. They seem to be having a good time lately. Either that or they’ve turned murderous. I can’t really tell.

I can confess that I suddenly desperately miss reviewing movies. It’s been about three years since I’ve done it. Recently I’ve gotten the twinge to make snarky comments about bad movies. Not that I have the time to go to screenings like I did when I worked at the failed dot com. (Though those mid-day press screenings were fun. I’d sit with a variety of local radio guys and make fun of movies with them, in the hopes that they’d start sharing free CDs with me. They never did. Jerks.)

I’ve been trying to figure out how I can sit at home and review DVDs and make snarky comments. Thing is, I want to get paid for it. I’ve had the opportunity to do it for online people, but I don’t want to. That’s a time donation thing. Somehow when I get paid, and am told not to be snarky, I get better results. Plus, a great teacher once asked me if I considered myself a writer. I told him yes. “Are you getting paid?” Nope. “Then you’re not a writer. You just happen to be writing.”

I wonder what happened to him. He used to write theater reviews for the RFT before it sucked. He’s disappeared.

Oh well. I’m going to be bored now. And explain to John why I hate Chicago (the band, not the town).

Oh look. Something shiny!