The Steeninator 2000 is now engaged. Steeninator 2000, poly-carbon metal alloy being has suggested entrance into the covenant of marriage. Do you accept proposal? (Y/N) 1011010001 BEEP BEEP BEEP Time to finish med school. Time to get engaged. Time to finish residency. Time to get married. Time to retire. Time to deactivate uniii.... Daisy, Daisy, give me your ans......
I just read my roomie Doug's great masterpiece, or at least the start of it. He's doing a year (or was it two) in his life, as a play, outlining the relationship he had with a female. Them meeting, his attempts at pursuing a romantic relationship, the dynamic between them, his further spiritual awakening, and her tragic death. For a time period, the three of my friends that I was supposed to live with during what would have been my senior year were all involved with Sarahs. Aaron had his Sarah, Towel Boy had his Sarah for a momentary flash in the pan, and Doug had his Sarah. Doug's Sarah died in a drug overdose, and now Towel Boy's Sarah died in a drug overdose. He's the one of the three currently involved with someone, an amazing wonderful person. She's the first woman in his life that I've met or heard about that I actually trust with his heart, considering how he wears it on his sleeve and invites himself to be destroyed so easily by those who don't appreciate him for the amazing being that he is. Aaron is no longer with his Sarah either, and he's expressed worry over her relationship with drugs. It'd be horrible if this thing did happen in threes.
Doug has done a great job with the dialogue of his script. He's taken liberties with the timing of some events, which my incredibly anal mind is forced to ignore, and it's a great work so far. Even though I've heard about every scene a dozen times, and been in a few of them, I ate it up. I really hope he sticks to this, and gets it done.
I suppose it might happen. Sadly, I fear it might not. Every one of my friends has their project, the thing that they will produce and change the world with. It reminds me of my stepfather Dan, always creating some new non-profit organization, always running some new business venture.
Pete has his great talent with the guitar. He's going to produce the album that will change music. He's going to be a big rock star. At least he, more then any of my friends, is sticking to his dreams, even if it does burn him out. Between being in the studio constantly, partying with the appropriate people, and such, he's never home. He even had to miss his mother's birthday to go to an event.
Towel Boy has written thousands of poems. No shit, I remember number one thousand. Towel Boy has written a play that I got to see produced, and has various other creative outlets. While his online artistic community is no more, and he no longer produces various television shows, he's got an amazing creative talent.
Aaron is another creative soul, but hasn't expressed his talents in grand schemes as the rest of my Drew circle of friends. He's talked about stand up comedy, he's talked about writing, he's talked about quite a few things. Maybe he never shared it with me, or maybe I'm a poor friend and a jackass and forgot it, but I don't remember his master creative plan.
Scott, who I just got off the phone with, is a legal eagle. He spouts legal decisions and laws while drunk. He's a political genius, and could have made it big in politics. Most of us hope he still does one day, becoming the gay Japanese political leader and activist.
Mary had her poetry, and her writings. Marty C. had his various outlandish schemes, from illegal importing to film to television. His myriad of self-styled 'strokes of absolute genius' were priceless. Marty Z. has his various mathematical theories and such, and has a few publications under his belt, but hasn't created a groundbreaking new AI yet. Even my current roomie Erin has her paintings and a story in the works.
Doug has had a few grand schemes. He was going to be a stand up comic, and asked us to force him to go to open mike nights with his routine. Other than Drew television, no one has experienced his work. Doug was going to masturbate in all fifty states, and write about it in a book, a great story for each state. He even got Hawaii. Doug was going to make a film about karaoke night at Sweet Maggie's in the Rockaway Mall, and now this story. I hope he finishes it. I hope it sees light.
And then there's me. I've had my writings. I've had my online projects. I've had my code projects. But I haven't really ever had my own massive work, from the ground up. Lost Caverns of Miczyk was taking over Ian's pet project. Anything I produce on CS is part of a larger whole that hundreds before and after me are responsible for as well. My web site I never get around to being creative on. My writings usually end up in a text file on a dying laptop or in my network drive, hidden away.
I know it's the pre-bottled stereotype, and I just remember the Matt Groening Life in Hell comic about realizing that you won't write the great American novel by the time you're thirty. I'm twenty-four. The bright young genius in my desired field is younger than I am. I'm aging, and have little to show for my time on this rock as of yet. I've always had those arrogant Napoleonesque egotistical dreams of making it into the history books, or even coming up with an economic theory requiring economic students hundreds of years from now to research my life or at least memorize my name. Come now, my birthday is the day of heroic inevitability. But I need to get cracking.
If I subscribe to Doug or Aaron's jokes, I think an apocalypse is going to have to occur for that to happen. Then I'll get the truck and start my master plan, I guess. Or I could go by the Jacob Soffranoff/Sarah Fern predicted future, and bring Skynet online, well after the night Ernie called me to say it was late.
I'm too full of thoughts and not enough coherency. I need to go meditate and maybe I'll call the ghost from my past.