Frank and Jane

I walked into the master bathroom of the multi-million dollar beach house we've been working on for several months. The wallpaper was going up. I commented to the carpenters that it looked like someone took a strawberry, a grapefruit, and a salmon and put them all into a blender to get this particular color. "Smoked rose," they told me it was. Then they told me this story.

A couple of days ago, the owners of the house, Frank and Jane, stopped by to check on progress. Now Frank is pushing 80, while Jane is still in her 60's. They walked into the master bathroom and saw the wallpaper.

"I hate it!" Jane exclaimed when she saw it. "It's so ugly! I hate it!"
"Kinda looks like a whore house in here," Frank said, musing to himself.
Jane continued on her tirade about the wallpaper. "We got this wallpaper imported all the way from France! I can't believe how ugly it is!"
"A French whore house!" Frank added. "Kinda reminds me of my college days..."
Jane, who hadn't really been paying attention to Frank, finally responded. "Frank, stop bragging!"
"I wasn't bragging.."

I wish I had been there to see that play out.

Triangulate

I know where I've been. And I have a pretty good sense of where I'm at now. I know I don't want to go back and I don't want to stay where I am. It's time to find a happy medium between the two. I think I'm ready to move beyond myself and grow.

One Of Those Weeks

I think I can honestly say this was one of those weeks. One of those weeks where you get to Friday, and on one hand you're thankful for the weekend, and on the other hand you're asking yourself, "what the HELL happened?!" It was one of those weeks where one day just runs into the next and after a while it's just one big blur. It was one of those weeks where inspiration is sought but never found, lost somewhere between the morning traffic and falling asleep on the couch during the 11 o'clock news. Isn't this the very theme great indie films are built on?

Maybe I just miss my girlfriend.