bl∆çk&§eåƒöãm

Things I am good at, and things I am not:

2011-04-04T19:48:00.000-07:00

Good thing #1
I am really good at using paper towels. Not in a thrifty way, nor am I any better at wiping up spills than the next guy. Rather, I am really good at finding excuses to use a paper towel. I love them. Paper towels are so incredibly convenient, so sanitary. Tear it off, wipe it up, throw it away. I'll use one to cover my bowl in the microwave, grab another for a napkin, and rip off one more just in case something happens on the way to the table. Sometimes I use two to dry my hands because I want my hands really dry. Sometimes I tear off two just because I like the heft of two paper towels compared to one. Single paper towels never lie flat on a table very well.

Good thing #2
I am really good at procrastinating. It might be the thing I do best. I'm so good at it, I'll find a way to do it while I'm consciously trying not to. And I realize the key to completing things in a timely manner is simply good planning, which would be really easy with the beautifully minimalist Muji day planner I bought 3 months ago, but it's so nice and minimalist that it would be a pity to scribble in it until I figure out exactly what I want to plan.

Bad thing #1
I am really bad at doing things that I am good at. Basketball, for instance. I'm not the best, but I grew up playing a lot of basketball, and it's one of the few things I could say I have an aptitude for. But when I want to exercise, I don't go find a basketball game — I drop a week's pay on a new road bike. Or climbing gear. Or a wet suit. All of which are sitting in a garage, a closet and a cardboard box, respectively. My P90X DVDs are in near mint condition. I should try to sell them, put the money towards the surf board I'm saving up for.

it's gonna be a long line on Tuesday...

2008-11-01T10:28:00.000-07:00

Great resource to learn the candidates' positions:

2008-07-28T20:19:00.001-07:00

toot toot

2008-05-14T20:37:00.000-07:00

The Typophile Film Festival opening credits, our senior class project, won a silver cube at the Art Directors Club awards, and a silver pencil at the One Show advertising awards. The internet tells me it's getting a lot of attention, which feels great because it took so friggin' long to finish, and it's a nice little ego boost.

Watch it, read it, download it, love it.

Thanks to Cole Nielsen and Brent Barson for all their work entering it into shows.

trying to look good limits my life

2008-05-05T14:52:00.000-07:00

Stefan Sagmeister, Things I Have Learned in My Life So Far

Let's not wait till the water runs dry...

2008-05-05T12:46:00.000-07:00

Cut Copy last Friday was great and fun, fun and great. I'm pretty excited about the concerts this summer. I've got my must-sees figured out, but here's the list of those that haven't made the cut yet, because (a) I can't afford them (b) I would go see them purely for sentimental reasons and can't justify the cost, or (c) I secretly listen to them in the car by myself, and no one will come with me. Go ahead and speculate which band goes with which excuse.

Blind Melon//May 12
Del the Funky Homosapien//May 23
Death Cab//May 26
George Clinton and the Parliment Funkadelic//June 1
Erykah Badu//June 3
Kanye West, Rihanna//June 9
Stone Temple Pilots//June 11
RZA//June 15
Naughty By Nature//June 21
311, Snoop Dogg//June 30
Journey//July 19
The Police//July 19
Flogging Molly//July 19
Steve Miller Band//July 30
James Taylor//July 4
Jack Johnson (yeah Bardhi, I said it), Rogue Wave//August 18
Boyz II Men//August 28

By the way, anyone heard who might come to the Gallivan Center Twilight Series, the free Thursday night shows?

(fairly typical) conversation with Grandpa Don

2008-04-21T23:20:00.000-07:00

Don: Hey Chris...can I ask you to do me a favor?
Chris: Yeah Grandpa, what's that?
Don: Well...I have a role for you in my play...I think you'd be perfect.
Chris: Sure, I'll be in the play.
Don: There's just one thing though: there's a kissing scene. You'll have to kiss your cousin.
Chris: No Grandpa, I'm not going to kiss my cousin.
Don: It's not a big kissing scene! Just a peck. C'mon, I need you!
Chris: Who do you want me to kiss?
Don: Your cousin Christina.
Chris: No Grandpa, I'm not going to kiss Christina.
Don: C'mon, it's not like you have to kiss with tongue! Just a quick kiss!
Chris: No Grandpa.
Don: Oh come on! I can't believe you're going to wuss out on me...I'm mad at you...
Grandma Shirley: Donald, you're a dirty old man.

Duncan

2008-04-08T19:43:00.000-07:00

I was visiting a friend today when a funny old gent popped in, well groomed, jolly 'ol accent. He rang the doorbell, knocked, whistled, called out for someone at home, then walked right in the door before anyone could get there. Someone was burning brush a little distance from the house, it had reminded him of the way South Africa smells when they burn the fields, and he wanted to share that. He was so excited, said he hadn't smelled that for ten years.

After he left my friend told me his name was Duncan, he's 78, from South Africa, and has terminal cancer. He and his wife had been living in my friend's basement for the past two months since they lost their home. They're moving to England later this week to be near his wife's family when he passes. Duncan's cheerful, says he's lived a full life and is ready to go. He's content. In two minutes I knew he was my hero.

And I've been wondering: what it will take for me to be that content with my life someday? What will I have to accomplished to feel ready for it to end? How do I narrow down my options? My interests are like the buffets my grandparents used to take us to—I like pizza, I like omelettes, I like soft-serve, but I only have one stomach and two pockets...where do I start?

I try to remember that I'm ALWAYS going to miss out on A LOT somethings. I've always hated that, wondering if I chose wrong, if I would have been happier somewhere else doing something else. So many places to see, so many adventures. Oh decisions...the awful truth of life. College made me believe that I can do anything I want, but growing up is making me realize I can't do EVERYTHING I want.

What I'd really regret is a life full of a little bit of everything, but not giving my all to a few good things. Like buffet cooks—seriously, how good of a pastry chef can you be if you have to make mac&cheese, fried chicken, and jello every night? Maybe mediocrity isn't just due to a lack of passion, but allowing myself to be passionate about too much.

I've been blessed with enough already to keep me busy for a long time. I never became a great surfer, still haven't become a musician, never played college basketball; all things I KNEW I wanted at one time. But if any of those things meant traveling a different path with different people and different experiences, then I'm perfectly happy with what I've had. So If every experience comes with an opportunity cost, which other opportunities am I willing to forgo, and which am I not? I just need to embrace those few directions that are most important to me. I think I'm getting a better idea of what they are.

So that hopefully someday when I'm a 78 year old South African man, I'll be ready to go, too.

this weekend

2008-04-06T20:59:00.000-07:00

I realized that I actually like black licorice.

I realized that feta makes everything betta.

I dreamt that I had exposed a big energy company's recent Go Green campaign as just a shallow marketing plow, and that they had no intention to change their business. I was down on the beach protesting when I became aware that I was surrounded by assassins. Big Energy was plotting to kill me. I eluded the assassins and, disguised in a suit, snuck into Big Energy company headquarters, past a couple secretaries, pushed over a security guard, and busted into the president's office (who I think was the guy who played the father on Big Fish). President Wrinkles waved off the security chasing me, agreeing to talk to me face to face. Our conversation went nowhere, my righteous indignation did nothing to sway his arrogant position. A mammoth body guard in a suit walked in, pulled a knife out of his jacket, the president nodded his head, and the guard slammed the knife into the desk top.
I spotted a pair of rusty scissors on the desk and slid them towards me. It was apparent that if my argument could not bring about a change of heart for Big Energy President, one of us was going to have to kill the other.

Bum bum bummmmm....

december

2008-03-31T11:59:00.001-07:00

I'm 7 years old.

2008-02-13T10:38:00.000-08:00

I hope he's still around when I have kids.

Playdough People

2008-02-10T19:23:00.001-08:00

My cousin got married this weekend. This is exactly what his wedding dinner looked like.

2008-01-28T00:54:00.000-08:00

I will deeply miss President Hinckley. I owe so much to him for his service and his testimony.

today's phunk was brought to you by the letter "PH"

2007-12-06T00:16:00.001-08:00

Dear Yo Gabba Gabba:

Take that.

-SS

Dreamsicle Thursday

2007-11-22T02:53:00.000-08:00

my favorite commercial ever.

Sexy Wednesday

2007-11-22T02:09:00.000-08:00

This dude has got sexy.

Trivia Tuesday

2007-11-22T01:41:00.000-08:00

First one* to get all three† wins a $1.50 shopping spree on me at any Maverick gas station (I'm expecting big things from you, Mel).

*employees of Maverick or its subsidiaries are not eligible for participation.
†cheating allowed.

survey says...?

2007-11-20T13:12:00.000-08:00

Part of growing up is getting a website.

Problem is, I can't decide on a url. There are too many Chris Crosbys in cyberspace and they've snatched up all the good domain names. Weird thing is, most of them are designers or cartoonists of some sort, so I really don't want to get mixed up with their lot.

NOT ME:
chriscrosby.com
christopherlee.com
chrislee.com
crosby.com
crosbydesign.com

COULD BE ME:
cros-b.com
chriscrosbydesign.com
chriscrosby.cc
mycv.cc
lookat.cc
seecc.cc
dotseesee.cc
imccru.com
cc4ucc4me.com
c-r-o-s-b-y.com
theoriginal.cc
chriscrosswillmakeya.com

I'm leaning towards cros-b.com. Your thoughts? Any other ideas? Help me grow up.

2007-10-07T21:46:00.000-07:00

I dreamt these two were the same person. After a heart-breaking second place finish in a nationally televised talent contest, he then proceeded to exact ruthless revenge.

2007-07-28T15:16:00.000-07:00

I don't remember the plot, just the details: joining the navy...losing a tooth, the second right one from the middle...an apartment with a tide pool floor that I could never walk on in the dark or the crabs would pinch me...using the accio charm...a school bus.

Reconstruct and interpret.

2007-07-17T12:42:00.000-07:00

Dear Potterphile friend,

If you could produce a corporeal patronus, what form would it take? Why? I know you've thought upon it before...

2007-07-14T11:02:00.000-07:00

When I was little I used to fantasize about running away from home, catching a bus to San Diego, and hiding out in SeaWorld, like From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler style. I'd run around the park during the day, hide out in the bathrooms at closing time, and spend my nights with the animals. When they'd finally catch me, the SeaWorld staff would be so impressed by my relationship with the animals that they'd let me stay, and I'd become the youngest dolphin trainer in SeaWorld history.

2007-06-30T23:06:00.000-07:00

I dreamt I was on a lacrosse team. We traveled to a college and couldn't find the dorms we were supposed to stay in. When we finally found them, I busted in the room and did a celebratory jumping round house kick, only to see there was already someone in the bed. I jumped out of the room just as quick. After that it turned into a romantic comedy and got kind of blurry, but I remember that I was bothered that Cole and Suzie weren't given a bigger part in the movie.

2007-06-30T22:37:00.000-07:00

I dreamt that I was a Thai kick boxer, and my sensai was murdered. As an act of revenge, my brother and I took control of the grocery store that the murderer was night manager of. We drove all the customers out into the parking lot, and proceeded to cover the windows with phosphorescent paint and swing a sheet-covered, glowing ball tethered to a stick; all part of our plan to convince the public that our dead sensai had returned from the dead to haunt the grocery store.

In all the confusion, we slipped out the back door with foodstuffs and escaped to the hills. Somehow we were spotted from the grocery store parking lot. We were followed. We made our way to an apartment complex and split up. I tried to mingle inconspicuously with the tenants, but the people that followed us from the grocery store found me. But they just stared at me silently and tried to be my friend. More and more surrounded me, like a zombie fellow shipping committee. I tried my best to resist, but they eventually made me feel welcome.