"Look at me! Look what I did!"
What's the point, anyway? I don't know. I just like it. And I like my stuff a lot of the time. What I used to do, anyway. . . in the Way Back.
But I may have been wrong. I saw some photos in the file that had signs in the background that said "2002." Since the film photos are all scans, I can't be sure exactly when they were taken. Some were before the turn of the century and some after. Just reporting this for the sake of accuracy.
Some of the photos in the old files make me sad. I'm not well organized, and often some of the scans are in with more recent photos of my life. They make me sad. . . but happy, too. I regret some things, but not my life. As a whole, it has been a giant adventure movie filled with wonders and romance. No regrets.
Except for a few.
My friend Travis says he wouldn't have done anything differently. He'd just do more. I'm with him on that.
We will never see the sun again here in the formerly Sunny South, or so it seems. I am going to meet with the factory crew on their pub crawl today. They are taking the SunRail from Factory City to the end of the line and back, stopping at pubs and bars all along the way. I will meet them at one near Gotham and then again here in my own hometown, but it will probably be raining and I will be drinking cranberry and soda, the old AA cocktail. I'll need to wear shoes which will determine the rest of my costume. I want to look good "for the ladies."
If you want to piss people off, "for the ladies" is a good start. But fuck. . . it is funny. I did see, however, on my pool pub adventure, that the dives still advertise "Ladies Night." Wow. That's a real throwback. I'm guessing when you step into those places you're in Trump Country. Best not be wearing your old Obama hat.
I've made no progress on the Burlesque/Pool/. . . what was the other one. . . project. Nobody has replied to my emails. Oh, yea. . . Little League Wrestling. I've decided that some local boxing and fighting gyms might be good. And if I can get into a bodybuilding competition. . . . I think that one of those smalltime beauty pageants would be great, too.
Just thinking about it all makes me tired, though. Where's my assistant? I need some young woman with aspirations to help me. That's what I want most of all now. That and another studio.