2001-12-08T21:47:00.000-08:00

December 9. 1:56am. Sunday morning.

It is a writer's job to live out loud. Somebody said that. I can't remember who at this moment, but suffice it to say, I'm good at dropping quotes. Last night I was at a Christmas party. Drunk. Stoned. Faces and bodies moving around me. The house was packed. An older crowd. Mid-fifties. But some young ones filtering through the crowd. Like me. I, like the other young ones, are at this party for the politics. Big people in the room. Important people. Really just the select few who've figured out how to make a living here in the film industry of St. John's. I got lucky and found myself in a circle with five of the big-timers in the room. All major above the line positions were represented - Director, Producer, Production Designer, Actor, etc. So we're passing around a joint and talking about (of all things) the effects of optmism and pessimism on a person's art. At which point we all end up declaring which side of the fence we stand on - Optimist or pessimist... at which point I blatantly steal a quote and say "I'm so much of a pessimist, I question the authenticty of other pessimists." They all howled in laughter and for a few seconds I felt good about myself. But yes, I'm good at dropping quotes. Stealing them, as it turns out. When did I start this annoying trait? Have I always done it? Verbal plagerism. Credit could be given for a keen sense of timing.

All I want this site to be is a place where I can be honest. I have lied to myself for years now. Perhaps this will be a step towards truth.

2001-12-07T12:26:00.000-08:00

December 7. 4:48pm. Friday.
I am online.

Living Out Loud