hendry

The car finally died today. It died in the middle of Broad street, in front of the space needle. Someone helped me push it into the valet area, while the valets complained about it being there. I tried calling the police department non-emergency line, but I guess the'yre closed on the weekends. So I called a friend up, and he pulled up, and I jumped in his car, and we left it there. I'll get it out of impound on Monday. Hopefully "Black Sunshine" will ride again, but it's unlikely. So now with this whole film fiasco going on, I need to find another working vehicle to transport equipment, and food, and myself from set to set. In the words of a character from one of my favorite books, "who needs a drink?". I can't because I'm spending the rest of the evening planning for next week's fundraiser, and I don't want to screw anything up on this computer. For the past year it seems, though I don't believe in that shit, that someone has put a horrible horrible curse on me. So whoever did it please stop! I'm sorry for doing whatever I did to you, and I'll totally make it up. You win. I've been trying so hard to make up for the way I treated others these past few years. I really want to be a better person. I somewhat feel bad for the shoe thing, the cheating thing, the shotgun thing(though not entirely my fault), the large woman on the dolly thing, the drunken larry thing, the junkie kid with the seizure thing, the not talking to you because it feels better thing, the comments to set you of thing, the calling the cops on you thing, the making fun of you on stage thing, the stuck up thing. To all of you people, I am sorry!!!! I'm even sorry about all the stuff I wrote about the Huricane Cafe. It's a qonderful dining experience that I feel everyone should enjoy, or read about in the stranger. If you don't live in Seattle, than read up about it in the stranger.com under resturaunt reviews. null
Great place to go. I am officially drunk now. I have been trying not to drink as much. I have seperated myself from my other drunk friends, which is tough. I love, and miss them all. It's boring, and lonely, and I friggen hate it. They're not even drunks. None of us ever did anything extreme. I do that sober just for a laugh. Now theres noone else around to make laugh. Last Saturday I went to an AA meeting, and heard their stories, and I got depressed. Yesterday I went to hang out with some of the people in that group, and they were the most miserable people that I have ever met. That made me more sad. I don't drink because I want to get drunk, I drink because I like hanging out with my friends. I like hanging out at Sara's, and I like playing pub trivia with my other drunken friends. I miss deb, I miss derick, I miss just about everyone. I just wish we didn't drink so much. I get so much more done, by not hanging around them. It doesn't matter, I'm miserable. I enjoy being active, but noone else does. My roommates watch sports, and horrible movies. I love them all, but I can't go to a baseball/basketball game with them. It sucks. This is the first time in life that I have felt like the black (ha ha) sheep. When I was in high school, and college, I hung out with a stupid group of people. If they weren't drunken comics, they were skins. I can't stand other comics, except for my friend Bill, and I just never fitted in with any subculture. I'm just Henry. I have lots of friends, but we never agree on where to go. The women here like the fact that I get along with just about everyone, but they're all lesbians on some sort of man break. I've been a horrible boyfriend for so long. I made a very good effort the last year to be good, but my efforts were thwarted. Anyway, I'm on a very drunken rant right now which started at 6:30, and probably won't conclude until I finish this last bottle of cheap wine, or until I cannot write anymore. I am so trying to be a decent person. Before, I thought a decent person was someone who paid his bills, and made contributions to his IRA. I can look back, and say that I was, and still am a bastard. I'm to involved in myself, and my work. My works probably won't go anywhere. Someone that I met a couple of years ago got an art review in the stranger, and they ripped her to shreds. I don't care what they do to my stuff, if it even gets reviewed. It's my first film!!! I want to go back to school. I need to do better than what I'm doing now. This fundraiser, which I call "the big one" is going to be me proving to myself, that I'm not a fuck up. When I go out to bars, many people think just because of my posture, and mannerisms, that I'm refined, and proper. Those are the drunks that are fuck ups, but have a lot of potential. Around my friends, I can be as crazy as I want to be. I'm still ranting, and it's 8:05. That means I shouldn't write anymore. I won't remember this until I log in here in a few days. Thank you journal.