Category — Noteworthy

My posting has never occurred on what you might call a ’schedule’, but I’m going to be taking an extended break from blogging here.  Extended may mean ‘permanent,’ but I’m uncomfortable saying that just yet.

It’s not you, Internet.  It’s me.

Back from the con.  Exhausted.  So many awesome things and people, I’ll be talking about them all week, I’m sure.  I think the food at Basilica deserves a post all by itself (nom nom nom).

Fun fact: Sarah called me “girly” because I chose matching accessories over comfort.  That doesn’t make me girly.  Nor does the fact that we were talking about Gossip Girl when that happened.

So I was out last night and my buddy John and I started waxing poetic about mixtapes.  Not mix CDs.  Making a CD for someone is cool, or filling up a jump drive with music, or beaming a song straight into their brains via nano-powered Song Guns, but it’s not a mixtape.  Sharing music in any format is a soul-affirming experience, but there’s something about the effort involved in crafting the perfect mixtape and producing the actual tape - a much more labor-intensive process than making a CD.

We did an impromptu survey and - shockingly - none of the girls in our group had ever received a mixtape from a boy.  So now we have a project: we’re each going to craft a mixtape for about five of our coworkers and also probably for the waitress.  This is going to mean dusting off the dual-deck tape recorder and buying some blank tapes for the first time in years, but I think it’ll be a fun diversion.  And I’ll probably blog some more about the mixtaping as it’s going on or after it’s done - one of the two.

So, Single Reader, tell me about the last mixtape you received/gave.  What was on it?

So, yay, New Year’s.

Instead of having a fixed resolution, like “stop being so fat,” or “post daily,” I’m going a different route and setting some goals for myself.

1. Read: I’ve been reading superhero comics and genre/trash fiction almost exclusively for the past few months, and I need to indulge my other tastes to keep them from atrophy.
Not that what I’m reading right now is bad, but what I read used to be much more diverse.

2. Write: Blog more. Write a damn book, Jeff.  Don’t get distracted from “Must Love Dice,” the serial fiction piece I’m writing for Grok this year.  Finish one of the many comic book scripts that are currently languishing uselessly.  Find an artist for them, too.

3. Stop being so fucking gloomy.

One of my friends has also nominated 2009 as “The Year Jeff Gets More Behind.”  “The Year That Jeff Is More Promiscuous” is a bit clearer, but she’s amused by the slant rhyme.  I’m not averse to that goal either, truth be told, but I’m not putting it on the proper list.

So, Single Reader, what do YOU want me to do in 2009?  Or, alternatively, what are YOU resolving to do?

I didn’t go to see “The Spirit” on Christmas day.

I go to the movies every Christmas. With the Coat Rack Tree not making a return appearance this year, it is perhaps my only Christmas tradition. On Christmas Eve, I thought to myself, “I am going to see The Spirit tomorrow, and I am going to write an excoriating blog post about it.” It was barely a thought, more like a cunning, animal urge.

I clung to the urge all the way to the theater. I was going to hate The Spirit and pay eight dollars for the privilege. I would then go home and proceed to be comically caustic about the rage I felt after watching a movie that I knew I was going to dislike before I even sat down in the theater’s lush stadium seats.

I bought a ticket for Bolt.

I don’t know why. I mean, Bolt has Miley Cyrus, John Travolta and adorable cartoon animals and none of those make for destination cinema in my mind. But it’s a strong Disney film, not on par with the string of 90s gems but much, much better than any of the House of Mouse’s non-Pixar stuff in the last five to six years. It’s no Wall-E, but then Wall-E will be very close to the top of my ‘Films of the Year’ list (if I ever get around to making that list, that is). I think I was prompted by Steve’s horrible revelation about the film, and Steve and I are on the same page about most things.

The following night, I went to see a movie with a friend. We saw Bedtime Stories. It was entertaining, if a bit overcute. I laughed. I was reminded how adorable Keri Russell is. It was a good, thought-free diversion of the kind that Sandler has been dishing out of late. It’s no Happy Gilmore or Punch Drunk Love, but - and I guess this is the takeaway I’m angling for here - not everything has to be.

So I set out to see one movie this holiday and saw two others that I never intended on watching. I enjoyed them more than I thought I would and I don’t regret missing the one that I passed over. It was, as Alan Moore would say, “positively energizing.”

I want to be a liker again. I realize that at some point I quit focusing on the things that I like and started paying way too much attention to things I hate. Maybe because it gets comments. Maybe because I was severely unhappy in my personal life and I wanted to do what friends do to other friends: share their pain. Maybe I grasp my vitriol tightly, like a child forcing the last remnants out of a tube of toothpaste, because I feel like it makes me more valid. But all of that is bullshit. I like things, and I want to be vocal about liking them again, not focused on how much this or that sucks.

Of course, there are some bailiwicks I won’t let go. Will I still bitch about DC’s marketing? Probably, at least as long as they continue to do it poorly. But I won’t be bitching about the content of their books, because I’m only reading the books I like now. I’ll be blogging about these things not because I’m some curmudgeonly, ever-vigilant, burrito-eating watchdog, but because I’m a marketer and a comics geek, and the intersection of the two means that I have Thoughts.

I can’t promise an end to the Things I Hate posts, but I think you’ll see less of them. In an effort to keep my New Year’s resolution manageable, I’m going to simply say that I’m trying to correct these things. I may slip. But 2009 has the potential to be one of the best years I’ve had in a long time, and I don’t want to spend it focusing on the things that I don’t like.

My boss at Solid Cactus has started to ambush some of his favorite employees and subject them to a dreaded “six questions,” the first round of which led to some intriguing revelations about a coworker’s, err, um, fascination with Lindsay Lohan.

It was very funny, until the camera turned on your humble Jefferson Stolarship:

Notice how I lied about my TV consumption in order to stall on that last answer.  I didn’t think shouting “I’m Chuck Bass!!!” would have been apropos.