I guess that is why he called the album Heartbreaker

Ryan Adams just got engaged to Mandy Moore. I was going to try to think of a clever opening but I decided that there was nothing that I could write that could compare to that simple sentence. Ryan Adams, a man who in the past has dated Beth Orton and Parker Posey (two of the women who made my Perfect Mate list because I would marry them in an instant), has decided that the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with is Mandy Moore. Now I know Ryan has this penchant of being a self-destructive artist but I feel that this is taking it one step too far. If given a choice between a stint in rehab and marrying Mandy Moore I clearly consider rehab to be the better career choice.

Plus, what type of guy gets engaged a few days before Valentine’s Day? If you are not going to pop the question at Christmas you might as well just wait until the big day so it will be both commercial and romantic. I have a feeling that Ryan popped the question sometime during the third quarter of the Super Bowl. The game began to get a little boring and his attention started to wander so he decided to ask Mandy to marry him.

(The best engagement story I know is two friends of mine who got engaged on Leap Day last year. It was brilliant because a) they would never forget the date and b) the guy would only be responsible for buying a present once every four years.)

Also, I know that many people have been awaiting my annual Valentine’s Day rant this year. Especially this year given that the big day falls on a Saturday as that means I cannot even perform my favorite weekend activity of becoming the face at the end of the bar as I would be surrounded by happy couples celebrating the night out. So I know that people have been waiting for my schedule of Smiths CDs that I would be listening to over the course of the night as I sit in my darkened apartment. Or maybe I would reinitiate my offer from last year of taking one lucky woman to dinner at Outback Steakhouse where she would be granted one (1) 25 dollar gift card to go towards the cost of her meal and drinks (any expenses over twenty five dollars to be paid for by said woman, offer not valid if used to purchase Outback Steakhouse t-shirts or souvenir boomerangs). I mean, it is tradition, right?

Well I can’t complain this year because I, uh, have plans for Saturday. Look I am as confused as you are. I’ve spent my entire life being cynical at this time of year and now I can’t and it kind of frightens me. How do people live like this? I mean, smiling takes a hell of a lot more effort than I imagined. And what about having to like things? That can’t be natural, can it?

As always, I have no idea what is going to happen next with my life. But I’ll say this, if you just open yourself to life some amazing things can happen.

When The Cure is no longer a cure

Important serious note to start: Thoughts and prayers go out to everyone at Northern Illinois. I’ve spent some time on that campus and know it fairly well. Very scary situation and I only can hope for the best. I have no idea where our society is at when events like this occur. It just doesn’t make sense.

Addendum to last night’s post: First, I’ve posted a picture of Kat from the London season. When I made my first Perfect Mate list (back in 1995 I believe) she came in tenth. She just has that whole Pacific Northwest vibe that I dig. No one remembers her and it is a shame. Also, I would like to change my vote on Best Fight to when Neil had his tongue nearly bitten in half during the London season. For those who don’t remember, Neil was a singer in a British punk band and to deal with a drunk crowd member he started singing directly in the guy’s face causing the guy to bite Neil’s tongue. Now that is a hardcore fight. Also, Neil is up there with Dominic and Lars as the cast members I would most like to have a beer with.

Well it’s that day. The day I dread more than any other. Ok, that’s not quite true. I make a big deal about hating Valentine’s Day but in reality it doesn’t really bug me. At least now I understand why I didn’t get a Valentine’s card today. In grade school it was a bit harsher when those sort of events occurred. Maybe I’ve just been hardened to life or I just enjoy being bitter. It’s a lot more fun to complain about a commercialized expression of feelings than deal with the fact that I’m not in a relationship at the moment.

Does not being in a relationship bother me? Obviously yes or I wouldn’t write about it so much. I am incredibly comfortable in my own skin so I’ve never defined myself by who I’m with, which makes being alone a lot easier to accept. But as someone told me this week, “You’re still hoping to one day come home like Ward Cleaver.” I don’t know if I would put it that way but yeah, I am missing one big facet of my life. I’ve said this before but there are only four things I want in life: a family that loves me, friends that care about me for who I am, respect from those I work with, and a girl to hold on to. That’s really it so missing one is kind of a big deal.

I know most of the fault here lies on me. Despite my claim that “dating me would have to be a positive NPV experience” I’ve been forced to recognize that most women do not run discounted cash flows in analyzing relationships. Nor am I able to predict a woman’s actions through spreadsheet modeling though if I ever get that genius grant I think I can make some great breathroughs in that regard. Those are just issues of my using digital thinking in an analog world. I can fix that. My fear of rejection, of the unknown, of not being fully in control of every possible scenario? That’s a much bigger issue.

But at the end I’d like to think that at my age I’ve come to terms with being who I am. I’m a nice guy who is smart and witty and will occasionally be called an arrogant prick. That’s me. How someone else judges me, whether they like me or not, doesn’t really impact who I am. I’m hoping keeping that in mind will remove the fears. That’s my hope at least.

Still, it is Valentine’s Day and I have the right to be bitter about it. Thus, I’m going to end with the really mislabeled Wednesday Night Music Club selection for the week. Chris Mills is this great guy out of Chicago who would write what would have to be the most bitter breakup songs in all of existence. Pure “I hate my life” songs with lines like “My eyes are blurry, if I had friends they would all be worried, I can’t believe you’re going back to Tennessee, 90 proof ain’t proof enough for me.” I’ll give him the last word for the week.

(Next week: the return of the 43 things. All will be explained in good time.)

The Leadership Secrets of Lando

I have no real reason for posting the above pictures other than they are wicked awesome. It’s the type of model that I would like to have in my apartment. Admittedly, it would explain why no one ever visits my apartment but I’d appreciate it.

(For as advanced a technology base that the Empire had cultivated they sure had some odd design ideas. Let’s build a really big tank and put it on top of really skinny legs thus making it incredibly vulnerable to tipping over if it happened to hit a rope. Oh, and how about building armor that is able to resist laser blasts by can be crushed by swinging logs. And let’s be sure that are fighter craft have really big wings to provide the enemy with a really nice target. When you look at it that way it’s no wonder that they left the exhaust port unshielded.)

Looks like I still need to increase my Valentine’s Day offer. Yesterday I promised the lucky lady a bloomin onion followed by the shake of her choice accompanied of course by my insight into how the Death Star’s trash compactor design is woefully inefficient. Tonight I will make it a true dinner and a movie opportunity. The movie will be Meet the Spartans. It’s like Airplane if Airplane was about 300 and not at all funny. If for some reason that movie is sold out we will then try to find a showing of The Hottie and the Nottie as Paris Hilton really needs our support. In that case it will be an intimate night at the movies as we will be the only people in the theater.

(Seriously, that’s the name of the latest Paris Hilton film that opened this week. Richard Roeper did the math on the box office receipts and figured out that on average there were three people in the theater at any one time. Everyone got on My Beloved Lindsay’s “I Know Who Killed Me” but at least people went to see it. Sure, my ten viewings bulked up the numbers but there were other people in the theater at least.)

(Anyway, that’s the latest offer. Will someone take me up on it? Will I have to increase the stakes tomorrow? Or am I going to have to settle for playing trivia on Valentine’s Day? You make the call.)

Back to the Paris Hilton thing. That, along with the fact that there is a film starring Larry the Cable Guy and Jenny McCarthy about to come out, really has me thinking. Given that I am looking at having free time on my hands for the first time, well, ever I really might take a go at writing a script. Sure, if I can weasel a month or two of free time my focus will be on the novel first (that and getting a job but a novel will be more fun) but writing a movie script can’t be too difficult. Just look at the crap that is being made right now. I sure as hell could write something better than that.

For those who are wondering about the novel (as I may have picked up some new readers) here is the base outline for “Until We Say Goodbye”. It’s vaguely a retelling of my early 30’s involving a guy (named Brian because my male leads are always named Brian) who is too smart for his own good with an unnerving tendency to spend much of his time at the end of a bar. His group of friends, lovingly referred to as “the rejects from the island of misfit toys” decide that what he needs is an image change to improve his luck. Through a series of events Brian ends up dating a singer he has been mad about from a distance for years. Can Brian win the girl? What about the job that is slowly killing his soul? What happens when the quarter life crisis becomes a mid-life crisis? Perfect world this will be a mix of High Fidelity and Office Space. Worst case, it’s Bridget Jones Diary with fart jokes. Win either way.

Once the wizard grants me courage...

Random note of the evening: While leaving work I saw a car with a COREY license plate. This gave me the momentary hope that Corey Feldman worked at my office as I couldn’t imagine anyone else having a COREY license plate. (I doubt Corey Haim can even afford a car.) I’d just like to walk up to him at the cafeteria and go “Dude, you were awesome in Meatballs 4.”

(That was the version of Meatballs that featured water skiing. Yes, I’ve seen it. I am not proud of that fact. Doesn’t matter how many foreign films I see I doubt I’ll be able to live that one down.

So I had nearly one taker on the Get EC out of his apartment on Valentine’s Day contest. Looks like I’ll have to up the ante. Not only am I offering a dinner at the Outback Steakhouse (it’s like having dinner in Sydney if you imagined Australia resembling a mall parking lot) but I will now throw in dessert at Dairy Queen as well. I would go for Baskin Robbins but 31 flavors? That’s too rich for my blood. Plus, they offer things like French Vanilla and they are therefore unpatriotic and cannot be trusted.

(You think I’m joking but remember that Kansas just voted for Mike Huckabee. I’m surprised there aren’t pickets outside Baskin Robbins for that fact alone.)

Switching gears here as I have something a little more serious and interesting to write about. (Though really, if anyone wants a dinner date at any time look me up. I might as well make the time I have left in this town interesting.) It came up during the commentary to the movie Once and it is something that is really applicable to where I am now.

It focused on why the movie was called Once despite the fact that there is nothing in the movie that would indicate what that would mean. John Carney the director described it as an Irish condition where you find really intelligent, witty guys hanging out at the bar behind a pint of Guinness going “Once I get a job, once I write my script, once I leave home…” but never going anywhere other than the end of the bar. They’re brilliant people but they are frozen behind their pints. As you could guess this is something I can identify with.

It’s amazing how quickly my life can get frozen in place. As my friend Erik once pointed out, I put my better days in the future, which is an awfully poor place for them. It’s always been once I meet someone, once I figure out what I want to do with myself, once I find time to write my novel, then I’ll be happy. I never make headway on those goals; in some instances I seem to be intentionally be working in the opposite direction. I know why this is even though it is something I am loathe to admit.

Basically it is easier for me to accept my inadequate life than face the risk of failing at my dreams. It’s easy to think about in terms of my writing: if I sit down and write a novel and it is horrible then my entire dream of being a writer is shot and the fantasy really keeps me going. It’s worse though when you think of it in terms of meeting people, dating, having relationships, however you want to describe it. If you open yourself up to someone you run the risk of being hurt and you have to ask yourself whether you want to risk pain in order to obtain happiness. Or if a blah life is acceptable.

What I’m hoping for is that the fact that I’m taking the separation package and having the world in front of me will break me out of this fog. I can go pretty much anywhere and do anything. I’ve spent my life setting myself up to be in precisely this situation. For once, I can let myself fail. If I can convince myself that failure can be the best thing that can happen to me I might just become the person I envision myself to be.

Please make the love songs stop

Well it’s that time of year again. My least favorite week of the year when all of pop culture reminds me of the current status of my life. I’ll use the following exchange at trivia to prove my point.

Roland the Trivia Host: “Our first category is Movies with “Heart” in honor of Valentine’s Day.”
EC: “Boo!”
Roland the Trivia Host: “The next category is Flower Jumble, also in honor of Valentine’s Day.”
EC: “Boo!”
Roland the Trivia Host: “We also have It’s Cold…”
Keith the Trivia Opponent: “Which is in honor of Chris’ cold, black heart.”

So yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day again. And once again I find myself alone out in this wilderness. (Can I call it a wilderness? I don’t think I can even see a tree from my apartment?) This does make this week rather annoying as everything you see on television revolves around buying gifts for your loved one. It’s a week of sweetness and pinks and flowers and I have to counter it by listening to the Cure all freaking week. But, I think I may have come up with an experiment here that might make things more interesting.

Let’s Sadie Hawkins Day Valentine’s Day this year. Or more specifically, let’s just have me sit back and have someone ask me out for a change. If you’ve got a secret crush on me here’s your chance. If you know someone who has a secret crush on me that will work as well. Hell, if you are just looking for a free meal I’ve got a gift card to Outback Steakhouse that I need to use so this could be your lucky day. (Yes, I will pay for our date with a gift card. That is just how I roll.) Is this a sad and rather pathetic act on my part? Well, yeah, of course but it’s either this or go and heckle people at the Air Supply concert. This could turn out to be slightly more interesting.

Of course, there is the possibility that no one will respond but I’ll just take that as one big rejection. That’s better in a way. It’s like tearing off one big band aid instead of one hundred little ones. Might as well get the suffering over with as soon as possible. Plus, if there is one thing I am used to in this life it is rejection. I think if someone agreed to go out with me my reaction would be “Seriously?”

That said, I am not in that bitter a mood, at least not yet. I watched Once this evening and could conceivably spend the rest of the week watching Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and 2 Days in Paris. Watching Julie Delpy films over and over again does make life bearable.

Best of 120 Minutes: I was trying to think of a song I would have used on mix tapes in college but couldn’t think of a good one. Then I remembered that I fell for a girl because she gave me a Blake Babies CD. That’s what it was like in the early 90’s. I miss those days.



The five random CDs of the week:
1) Matt Nathanson “At the Point”
2) Lyle Lovett “It’s Not Big, It’s Large”
3) Cowboy Mouth “All You Need is Live”
4) Richard Buckner “S/T”
5) Pearl Jam “Vitalogy”

Acting like a college kid...

Just a couple of things on my mind tonight after a day spent doing laundry and cleaning my apartment. Or more accurately, a day spent lying on my couch watching old episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 while hoping that my apartment would begin to magically clean itself while the laundry elves attacked the pile of clothes in my bedroom.

In what I consider to be classic EC style, on my way to see Carbon Leaf in concert I roll my ankle while just walking down the sidewalk. Seriously, I’m so clumsy I can’t walk down the street perfectly sober without injuring myself. Didn’t do any major damage (thanks to the fact that I wear hiking boots for this very reason) but let me tell you, it is so much fun to roll your ankle and then stand for four straight hours without moving. Yeah, that was a new type of pain. The type where walking back to your car fills you with dread.

Thankfully, it was a great show. This marks the fifth time I’ve seen the band despite the fact that a part of me wants to hate the band because the lead singer is this good looking guy with a magnetic personality and I find it totally unfair for a guy to get to be all that and be in a rock band. However, the music is really good so that counters the fact that I’m a jealous bastard when it comes to other people being successful.

This was the first time that I’ve ever seen Carbon Leaf headline and you could actually tell that they weren’t used to it. Even the band seemed to grow tired after 70 minutes, like they were so used to being off the stage by that point. They’re a college rock band at heart but on a Saturday night in a college town that is exactly what you want to listen to. Not every band has to sing about saving the world. The highlight was easily the encore when the band did a completely unplugged, unamplified version of “Learn to Fly”. It’s always impressive when a band can pull something like that off and they had the musicianship and presence to do so.

In other news, it’s dawned on me that I do need to figure out what I’ll do on Wednesday night. Right now my options are a) play trivia, b) see Air Supply in concert at the casino or c) settle down with a bottle of Jack Daniels and moan about my existence. Wow, when playing trivia in a bar is the most psychologically sound option it tends to put your life in perception. I know, I know, this is my annual bitching about Valentine’s Day but it just bothers me that we have this one day a year that seems to exist solely to remind single people how alone they are in the world. It’s like a day dedicated to proving how meaningless your life is just because you happen to be really comfortable in your own skin and don’t have to justify your existence based on who you have next to you. Not that I’m bitter or anything.

Still, the number I saw today is that the average American will spend 120 bucks on Valentine’s Day. That’s a lot of trivia games in my book. When you factor in the people like me who spend nothing you wonder what that number really is.

Oh, and speaking of bitterness, is it right for me to be jealous of a cartoon character? On the Simpsons I was upset with Bart for a) not marrying Natalie Portman when he had the opportunity and b) getting to make out with Natalie Portman on general principles. Even though I was nicknamed Bart before the Simpsons ever aired and have viewed Bart as a somewhat alter ego I’m still upset about this. Not as upset as I am about the fact that the show seemed to jump the shark a good six years ago yet it continues to air and ruin its legacy but upset nonetheless.

The five random CDs for the week:
1) Jay Farrar “Stone, Steel & Bright Lights”
2) Alejandro Escovedo “Por Vida”
3) The Insiders “Not for Sale”
4) Jeff Buckley “Grace”
5) Belly “King”