Hey, how are you? How’s it goin?
You been in any good movies recently?....
…Okay this is awkward, and not just because I’m writing a letter to a non-anthropomorphic entity. It’s because we’ve been through so much together and because I care about you so much that this is so hard to say. Or to write. Whatever. The thing is, I want to see other cities. And by “see other cities” I mean see one other city.
That isn’t you.
What I’m trying to say is...I want to break up. I’m just not so good with words okay? Which is just one of the many reasons I’m leaving you - You were always smarter than me. And you belittle me all the time and make me feel like I’m not good enough. And you make me angry. Oh boy do you make me angry. Just the other day you almost made me shove some old lady down the stairs because she was walking too slowly. Which probably had less to do with her actively trying to slow me down because she doesn’t understand that I have places, VERY IMPORTANT PLACES TO BE, and more to do with the fact that she was walking slowly because, well, she’s fucking old.
See, you you’ve turned me into someone I’m not. Someone I don’t like very much. Like, I swore I would never be one of those people who was defined by my relationship, but whenever I’m somewhere without you, you’re pretty much all I talk about. I’m sure I annoy people with how much I ramble on about you like you’re the only thing in my life worth talking about. Like you’re SO interesting. Like I’m SO much better than everyone else because I have a better city than they do. A city that is beautiful and charming and interesting and treats me well. But you know what? You’re not always as charming as you think you are, and honestly, you don’t treat me all that well. You rain on me, you hurt my feet, and you lie to me. Like when you claim there’s a sick passenger on your train, but really I know that you just don’t know how to fucking operate a simple mass-transit system. And not only can I not trust you, but you make me actively paranoid. Whenever any store clerk smiles at me or even acknowledges my existence I glance around everywhere, certain that I’m being punked. You’ve made me think that basic human decency is some sort of malicious prank. And yeah, sure, you inspired Annie Hall, and “Rhapsody in Blue”, and The Godfather, but, you know, you also inspired Small Time Crooks and The Real World: Brooklyn and the career of Ja Rule. So maybe you should stop thinking you’re all that. There are other fish in the sea okay? Other fruit on the tree. Other geographical locations on the map.
In fact, maybe this isn’t the best time to tell you this, but you’ll see the pictures on facebook eventually, so I might as well just tell you now. I’ve kind of been seeing someone else. Their name is Los Angeles. And it’s actually pretty serious. In fact I think we’re gonna move in together. Now, I don’t mean to hurt you. I really don’t. And I know you’d rather I rebounded with someone nice and unthreatening city like Chicago or Denver or Philadelphia, but this isn’t some rebound thing it’s pretty serious.
Now look, there’s no way any city will ever be able to hold a candle to you. You’re the best city I’ll ever be with, I understand that. But for all the wonderful things you have - unexpected adventures, wild nights out, a rooftop party with friends looking out over an amazing view - I know that these things rarely happen anymore. What once was fresh has gotten stale. And one night of passion a month isn’t enough to keep a relationship going. Sometimes no matter how much love you might feel for someone, circumstances, life, and reality get in the way. Things run their course.
Just today I was walking down the street, not paying any attention to anything as usual, annoyed with all the fucking tourists around when suddenly I looked up and I saw this building that a young man was taking a picture of. It was just a random building, nothing special at first glance, but then I looked at it harder and I saw it with different eyes. Younger eyes. And it took me back to a different time. The time when we first fell in love. When every building and every street and every moment felt so magical and alive. Walking around every day felt like a dream. The love I felt for you was almost surreal. I couldn’t believe this place was actually mine. Sometimes your beauty would literally stop me in my tracks. When you weren’t around all I wanted to do was be with you, and when you were around you automatically made everything better by the mere fact of your presence. Before I found you I felt so misunderstood, so alone, so incomplete, so out of place. But once I found the comfort of your arms I felt so alive, so at home. You understood me. You got what I was about. You saved my life. And I’ll be eternally grateful to you for that. But people grow and people change. And you start to see the cracks in the facade. The things you put on a pedestal become real and you have to deal with the reality instead of the fantasy.
And I looked at the man taking the picture of the building. This building that was old and interesting and utterly fascinating to this man. And I knew how he felt. I had been that person. I remembered what that was like. But that’s all it was - just a memory. Because I looked at that building and all I saw was a building. A building that was blocking my view of the sun.
And I thought, how could something that once was so powerful to me leave me feeling completely numb? How could something that was once so beautiful now simply be an annoyance? Is this how all love works? Does nothing last? Is lifelong monogamy valid or even possible? Is this why I never like to start things, because I know if I never start them then they never have to end?
Frankly all this thinking gave me a headache. And that’s why I’m moving to LA. Because they don’t have existential crises in LA. They don’t have much of anything really. Other than 3D movies about outer space. Well that and cocaine. Lots and lots of cocaine. Which is great because I hear it’s delicious. Also, I have no idea how cocaine works. But the point is LA is a simpler place. And I need somewhere simple after all the drama of you and me. I need somewhere where I can just lay around doing nothing all day. Somewhere I can stretch my legs and truly relax. Somewhere I can get Mexican food that’s not made by Asian people.
And don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll see you again. We’ll keep in touch. And I’m sure I’ll hear stories about you from friends. And, I’m not gonna lie, I’ll probably stalk you a little bit on the internet. But I know in the end, although I’ll always value what we had, we will be better off apart.
So don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll be just fine with my new love.
And I’m not too worried about you moving on either.
You always have been quite the heartbreaker.
Love always,
Andy
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
My Month of Soccer
The World Cup is the greatest thing that mankind has ever created. And if you disagree with that statement then you are wrong. And you probably lead a sad grey passionless existence in which you pray every day for the sweet release of death.
Or maybe you just have an actual life.
Whatever.
Point is that over the past month I have experienced every possible human emotion at least ten times over. I lost sleep, hair, and my voice. I drank copious amounts of beer, hugged and slapped hands with complete strangers and got so filled with tension that I seriously worried that my heart might explode. And my level of soccer knowledge went from “I hope that one guy can kick the ball into the net soon” to “it’s the 85th minute and if they don’t fucking switch to a goddamn 4-3-3 soon then no amount of stoppage time is going to get them the equalizer”. But just enough knowledge of soccer to be completely obnoxious is not all I picked up over the past month. Theres more...
Things I Learned During The World Cup:
*US sports teams names are lame. The Falcons? The Eagles? The Reds? Try The Super Eagles, The Indomitable Lions, and La Furija Roja (The Furious Red). And it's not just the addition of adjectives either. The Greek team is called The Pirate Ship. That’s the greatest name for anything ever. Come on America, step your game up.
(Second place for best name for anything ever? Nigeria has a President named Goodluck Jonathan. No, I'm not making that up)
*Cardiologists must love The World Cup.
*Despite the success of this World Cup I feel certain that South Africa is never, ever, EVER going to be allowed to host a worldwide sports competition again. (Thanks a lot vuvuzelas)
Speaking of which…
*The amount of World Cup you have watched can be best defined by which of these quotes sums up your feelings on hearing a chorus of vuvuzelas:
1.) “What is vuvuzela?”
2.) “Vuvuzelas are the worst, most obnoxious thing in the history of the world!”
3.) “Oh, are thousands of people blowing on vuvuzelas at the moment? I didn’t even notice.”
4.) “I’ve started sleeping under a bees’ nest because I’m no longer able to be at peace in the world without the sweet dulcet tones of vuvuzela wafting through the air.”
*When you’re watching a sporting event that is not the World Cup if you yell out “come on, that’s a clear yellow card!” people will look at you funny.
*Apparently the players for Paraguay have no problem looking like escaped convicts from a jail for clowns.
*It's good to know that no matter what our differences might be, all nations in the world are united in our hatred of the French.
*Soccer is now officially the indie rock of American sports.
*Musically speaking all national anthems pretty much sound they same. And they all kind of suck.
*Both the best and the worst thing about soccer is watching a guy writhing in pain get carried off the pitch on a stretcher only to hop off and be perfectly fine the second he gets to the sideline.
*Whoever thought of the idea to give the New Zealand All-Whites an almost all black uniform is my new hero.
*Spain's David Villa is the first person in history to successfully pull off the soul patch.
*USA is without a doubt the most easily chant-able of all the country names in existence. Unless of course there is a BeatL.A.istan or a Republic of YankeesSuck somewhere I don’t know about.
*There are black people in Switzerland.
*There really need to be more occasions wherein it’s culturally acceptable to drink in a bar at 10am on a weekday.
*It's hard to take a man seriously when his name is Kaka.
*The World Cup can teach you a lot about your neighbors. For instance I had no idea so many people of Serbian descent live in my neighborhood.
*If you ever visit Portugal don’t ever accidentally graze past anyone on the street or they will fall into a heap on the ground and writhe around in agony like they have been shot. They are a fragile people. Also, they suck.
*Ian Darke is the Gus Johnson of soccer. But neither of them have anything on this guy.
*Soccer terminology is so much more sophisticated and classy than the language we use in American sports. Teams aren’t "playing well" they are "displaying good quality". The ball doesn’t get "stolen" it gets "dispossessed". And I'm not even taking into account the time an announcer called the Paraguayan defense "obdurate".
*Diego Forlan is very good at soccer. He is also very good at looking like the love child of Bradley Cooper and Sean Penn.
*Like the wannabe pseudo-hipster I am I have really fallen in love with soccer jerseys. (Or kits I believe they're called?)
My five favorites of the World Cup:
5.) Spain - Away
4.) Brazil - Home
3.) Mexico - Away
2.) Portugal - Home (which I would have bought if I didn’t hate Portugal so much)
1.) Australia - Home (which I might or might not have made a special trip to Niketown to buy)
*And finally, with all due respect to Paul the Octopus, Diego Maradona, the French team refusing to practice, and the heroic run of Ghana, the thing that will always be the highlight of this World Cup, this past month, this whole summer is of course Donovan's goal vs. Algeria. I will remember it for the rest of my life and it made every hour I spent watching these games totally worth it. So thanks for everything soccer. I'll see you again in four years.
Or maybe you just have an actual life.
Whatever.
Point is that over the past month I have experienced every possible human emotion at least ten times over. I lost sleep, hair, and my voice. I drank copious amounts of beer, hugged and slapped hands with complete strangers and got so filled with tension that I seriously worried that my heart might explode. And my level of soccer knowledge went from “I hope that one guy can kick the ball into the net soon” to “it’s the 85th minute and if they don’t fucking switch to a goddamn 4-3-3 soon then no amount of stoppage time is going to get them the equalizer”. But just enough knowledge of soccer to be completely obnoxious is not all I picked up over the past month. Theres more...
Things I Learned During The World Cup:
*US sports teams names are lame. The Falcons? The Eagles? The Reds? Try The Super Eagles, The Indomitable Lions, and La Furija Roja (The Furious Red). And it's not just the addition of adjectives either. The Greek team is called The Pirate Ship. That’s the greatest name for anything ever. Come on America, step your game up.
(Second place for best name for anything ever? Nigeria has a President named Goodluck Jonathan. No, I'm not making that up)
*Cardiologists must love The World Cup.
*Despite the success of this World Cup I feel certain that South Africa is never, ever, EVER going to be allowed to host a worldwide sports competition again. (Thanks a lot vuvuzelas)
Speaking of which…
*The amount of World Cup you have watched can be best defined by which of these quotes sums up your feelings on hearing a chorus of vuvuzelas:
1.) “What is vuvuzela?”
2.) “Vuvuzelas are the worst, most obnoxious thing in the history of the world!”
3.) “Oh, are thousands of people blowing on vuvuzelas at the moment? I didn’t even notice.”
4.) “I’ve started sleeping under a bees’ nest because I’m no longer able to be at peace in the world without the sweet dulcet tones of vuvuzela wafting through the air.”
*When you’re watching a sporting event that is not the World Cup if you yell out “come on, that’s a clear yellow card!” people will look at you funny.
*Apparently the players for Paraguay have no problem looking like escaped convicts from a jail for clowns.
*It's good to know that no matter what our differences might be, all nations in the world are united in our hatred of the French.
*Soccer is now officially the indie rock of American sports.
*Musically speaking all national anthems pretty much sound they same. And they all kind of suck.
*Both the best and the worst thing about soccer is watching a guy writhing in pain get carried off the pitch on a stretcher only to hop off and be perfectly fine the second he gets to the sideline.
*Whoever thought of the idea to give the New Zealand All-Whites an almost all black uniform is my new hero.
*Spain's David Villa is the first person in history to successfully pull off the soul patch.
*USA is without a doubt the most easily chant-able of all the country names in existence. Unless of course there is a BeatL.A.istan or a Republic of YankeesSuck somewhere I don’t know about.
*There are black people in Switzerland.
*There really need to be more occasions wherein it’s culturally acceptable to drink in a bar at 10am on a weekday.
*It's hard to take a man seriously when his name is Kaka.
*The World Cup can teach you a lot about your neighbors. For instance I had no idea so many people of Serbian descent live in my neighborhood.
*If you ever visit Portugal don’t ever accidentally graze past anyone on the street or they will fall into a heap on the ground and writhe around in agony like they have been shot. They are a fragile people. Also, they suck.
*Ian Darke is the Gus Johnson of soccer. But neither of them have anything on this guy.
*Soccer terminology is so much more sophisticated and classy than the language we use in American sports. Teams aren’t "playing well" they are "displaying good quality". The ball doesn’t get "stolen" it gets "dispossessed". And I'm not even taking into account the time an announcer called the Paraguayan defense "obdurate".
*Diego Forlan is very good at soccer. He is also very good at looking like the love child of Bradley Cooper and Sean Penn.
*Like the wannabe pseudo-hipster I am I have really fallen in love with soccer jerseys. (Or kits I believe they're called?)
My five favorites of the World Cup:
5.) Spain - Away
4.) Brazil - Home
3.) Mexico - Away
2.) Portugal - Home (which I would have bought if I didn’t hate Portugal so much)
1.) Australia - Home (which I might or might not have made a special trip to Niketown to buy)
*And finally, with all due respect to Paul the Octopus, Diego Maradona, the French team refusing to practice, and the heroic run of Ghana, the thing that will always be the highlight of this World Cup, this past month, this whole summer is of course Donovan's goal vs. Algeria. I will remember it for the rest of my life and it made every hour I spent watching these games totally worth it. So thanks for everything soccer. I'll see you again in four years.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Zombie People
Hey do you like reading things I write? Then maybe you'll like watching things I act in. A friend of mine is trying to get his movie off the ground and we hope to film it in the fall. Its a great project with some great people invloved. You should really check out the site: Zombie People. Thanks.
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