I Love Owning My Own Little Private Theature...

Yeah, I even spell it like a Canadian...

So, it's round about 4 am, close enough to round up. I just finished my private screening of the Mancurian Candidate. I really love having my own private theature, theres no giant screen, no sticky isles, not even a tub of popcorn. We do have all the newest releases, and ghetto tea, and you can smoke, so it all really evens out. First, obviously, excellent film. Really well done all around, great job casting, great acting, great story, etc... Believe the hype when it comes to this one. I've actually never seen the original, something I plan to ammend shortly, simply because i'd like to compare and contrast.

Is this Steven? "yes." Is this Steven Rys? "yes." Is this private first class Steven Micheal Rys?

You'd have to see it to understand, but some how it seems brighter in here already.

You'd think i'd be a little more shy about sharing those few very important details to the vast vast reading audience known as the internet. Funny, enough, Reilly outed me to the internet last week, photo and all, so fuck it, find me if you'd like.

I'm doing everything in my power not to talk about my hatred for republicans. So, i'll cover my day, or the week and a half since we last met.

Wednesday night writings found their way to a broader than ever audience last week, that was interesting. Been feeling a bit more... doubtful of myself since I was "passively rejected". I think that's where that fragile little moment started. So, yeah all that temporary joy and happiness I was swimming in just a few short weeks ago fufilled it temporary status. She was fun, we could've been great, and I fucked it up. That's the short version. It really excludes all the details, especially all of those which encapsulate the situation, and give it any depth. I really don't care to delve into that, even though they would suggest it wasn't really my fault. Reilly actually expressed some concern after reading through it. I don't know if he was the only one who read it, or the only one who felt it deemed a concerned inquiry, or the only one who didn't realize that was really generally the norm with me. Wouldn't it be great if we could just say what we mean, and how we feel, without fear of judgement or consequence? But, we all get dressed every morning. We put up whatever guises we may have learned over the years. From cynacism to sarcasm to pesicism to anger, etc etc etc... And, it works, and we survive another day. Wow, did someone forget to pay the electric bill, or did that just get dark really fast?

Beyond that evening, the week and a half we've spent apart has been rather... Normal? I'd almost like to call it drab, I've really not done anything of much note. Well, that's not all that accurate. Saturday, I went up to the 185th street festival, and hooked up with Amy, and Jean, and Abby, and their relative signifigant others. That was fun, well, it was fun until I convienced Duffy to come out and he got all hammered and I had to babysit him so he didn't get arrested. I almost succeded in keeping him almost entirely out of harm, but you know Duffy, he's prone to self-destruction. Someone actually delivered him a vicious little right hook, and that snapped him back into reality mighty quickly. I really hope I don't end up having to look after him at Pat's bachelor party. He's actually really got a problem, known as Ashley. It's his woman, and, she independantly doesn't seem all that evil or succubus-like, but she's doing him real harm. Duffy is a social butterfly, well more of a surly social bastard, but either way, when you think of it, you can't deprive of him of his nature for long periods of time. Because, as we have recently come to learn, he'll do his best to get all of his partying in at once.

The following Monday, I went out to dinner with Moms and Davie Boy and Reilly. It was a great time, we fell right into our old groove, reminiscing on days past etc... Had to take a half hour call right in the middle of dinner though, because above all, i've got to keep my money right. That reminds me, Jen and Reilly moved back yesterday. Isn't that just crazy, we're all returning to our Roots. "What's your name boy?!?" *WHUPPPSSHHH*

Today I had a pretty decent day. Did the family barbeque thing with Lou over at his place. Funny thing is, none of them were my family. It was honestly a bit odd at first, I can't recall the last time I was at a party when no one was getting light as quickly as possible, so these didn't seem to be my people. I was actually uncomfortable, I felt out of place in this little slice of Americana, I've just not done so in a while. At one point someone handed my a baby, that didn't go over too well. I don't hold babies for the same reason I don't drive other peoples cars. You damage them, and people get really pissed. There were burgers on the grill, and people in the pool, and badmitton being played by all. Overall, it was a fun in the sun kind of day.

It's now creeping closer to 5 am, and again, I wonder what my life would be like with a little more structure? Yes, and now I need structure, and a little fucking discipline. American Beauty, if you thought it sounded familiar. What if I went to bed at 11 every evening, and didn't stay up till 5 am, under the impression it some how actually extended my weekend? What if I worked out like I used to? What if I stopped smoking? What if I stopped consuming 880 empty calories in the daily half gallon of ghetto tea? What if I figured out what I actually wanted, so I could persue it a little more actively?

I think it's round about time for some change in my life.

-Rys4K

p.s.- We'll all be glad to see how Steve 2.0 comes out.