Oh Matthew…
I met a serial killer last night and I’m writing this post as future evidence in my murder trial.
My German female roommate is moving out and apparently her creepiness radar doesn’t work in America. I helped her move her mattress to this Craigslist guy’s place and I’ve never been more sure that I was in the presence of a man who kills people in his spare time.
My roommate went back to my place to get more boxes, so Ted Bundy and I carried the bed into his place alone. In those few minutes he guessed my correct height on the first try and told me I was his type. At this point I was mildly relieved because this intensely creepy older man is obviously gay and maybe my roommate will be ok after all. He asked for my apartment number so he could come help move more boxes but I brushed him off assuring him we could handle the rest. He told me an anecdote about how the last word that was said in Kubrick’s final film was “fuck” and I then took that as my cue to get the fuck out of there.
About an hour later I’m watching Midnight in Paris in my room (good film by the way) and I hear a knock at the front door and then the sound of my roommate letting him inside my apartment. One of the first things he says is “Is Josh here?” and that is when I officially stopped worrying about her, and started thinking about myself. About 20 minutes later I came out of my room to use the restroom and there he was, standing in the hall, wearing sparkling ruby-red 3-inch heeled slippers à la The Wizard of Oz. I could not make that up if I tried. Almost immediately, he made a “joke” about giving me herpes. I skipped the bathroom and went back into my room where he followed me in to tell me 2 corny terrorist jokes and a religion joke. I then literally got into my car and drove away from my apartment.
This morning my roommate came back to my place after having spent the night over there and she had some stuff to tell me. Apparently he would not leave her room, he started cleaning all of her personal things, he wouldn’t let her shut her bedroom door because he didn’t feel safe, he told her he wanted the two of them to be like a family and that they needed to love and support each other. When the subject of Josh came up, he told her “I want to park my car in his garage.” He asked her what her New Year’s Eve plans were and got angry when she didn’t invite him to the party she was attending. He was so upset that he had to go watch The Wizard of Oz to calm down.
For the next month until my lease expires, I’ll be sleeping with a large hunting knife near by bed.
I could not care less about following sports teams or watching the games on TV, and I don’t even particularly like sports movies, but Moneyball is the best film of 2011 that I’ve seen so far.
There are still a few heavy hitters of the year that I haven’t watched yet, and I hope they live up to their hype, but Moneyball far exceeded my expectations, and ultimately I wouldn’t change a thing about it.
Worst Birthday Ever.
I rarely ever get high. I don’t drink a lot and I’ve never tried any hard drugs. Last night while celebrating my birthday, I ate way too much medical grade edibles and began to freak the hell out. They say you can’t overdose on marijuana, but my experience was like a bad hallucinatory trip. I thought I was dying, I thought I was in hell, I thought I needed to be taken to a mental facility because whatever I ate was surely laced with other horrible things and my brain was not going to recover.
I laughed until it hurt and then I cried hysterically until my pillow was soaking wet. I began conducting psychological experiments on my cat in which I was sure I was making some kind of medical or scientific breakthrough, then I begged my friends to help me. Just please help me in SOME way. Their modest bong-hit highs were already beginning to come down and since I was the only one who ingested a large amount of THC all at once, mine was still getting worse.
They sat, helpless and awkward, as my body shook and as I screamed at them and talked about death and went to incredibly dark places they didn’t know I had in me. I was completely aware of what I was saying and doing and I was definitely sure I was going to have to find a new roommate because: how could anybody ever look at me the same again after seeing this behavior?
After hours of intense mental strain, and uncontrollable muscle spasms, I finally threw up and was able to go to sleep.
I really messed up last night and I honestly wonder whether or not any permanent psychological damage has been done. Never again for me.
I am 26 today. This has been a transitional year for me. I’m not ready to settle down yet, but I wouldn’t mind being in the life of the person I will eventually settle down with.
On the other hand, I would raise a child named Nebraska Jones with Kimbra Johnson right now, no questions asked.
I watch a movie every day. I’ve been doing this for over 4 years. Some days I don’t have enough time for one, but other days I’ll have time for two or three, so either way that’s about fifteen hundred films in a short period of time. I watch them when I’m bored, I watch them when I’m depressed, I watch them to learn, and I watch them to get inspired.
I don’t have a favorite film, but nothing that I’ve watched before has moved me more than “Dancer in the Dark” so I have to recommend it to you now. It is by no means a perfect film. I almost turned it off twice in the first half because it was so weird and seemed sloppy at times, but I was intrigued by Björk’s screen presence and by the end of the film I was so attached I couldn’t move, couldn’t even wipe my tears.
Some of you will not like this movie, and I’m okay with that, but it’s worth your time to find out.
My favorite part about getting a haircut is this inevitable conversation:
“Hey, did you get a haircut?”
“Yeah”
And then silence. Nobody ever says it looks good. There is no such thing as a good haircut when it comes to me and I’ve learned to accept that :)
