Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Ludovico's LiveJournal:

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Saturday, January 22nd, 2011
10:33 pm	I try to laugh about it. The lovely Lisa Dawn suggested tonight that I "could always journal." She's very random, but she makes a good point without knowing it. A thing I didn't tell past Vico, and a thing that future Vico is probably all to aware of, is that most of my life was pretty tied up in Robin. Most of my friends, most of my social activity, most of my free time. Since she left, most of those things sort of unraveled. Those that weren't intrinsically tied to her would unravel on their own, as if the universe was trying to tell me "start over." So I'm starting over. New town, new job, new life. Same old friends. Which is to say, the three of them that stuck around... No, I don't want to do this right now. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, November 24th, 2010
4:04 am	You are not alone in this. Going to California for Thanksgiving tomorrow. Feel like writing a few things. The Family. It's its own noun. Like The City or The King. They are not individuals anymore, or even a collective of people. They are a feeling, a collective of thought. Conflicted, because I love them all very much, but I don't have a place with them. I've grown into someone they don't understand, and in doing so, find them as alien a concept as I find myself. I'm not trying to be heavyhanded, but I guess that can't be avoided. Even my cool, freewheeling aunt and uncle find me peculiar at best, and they're not the wild, exciting people I remember them to be. Maybe they never were. We gloss things over. Seeing The Family is always troubling for me. More often than not, I find myself struggling to keep my mouth shut. They think things I don't agree with, but I'm so overwhelmingly outnumbered that my ideas evoke more ridicule than controversy. I don't want to stir up controversy, but I want to be heard. Acknowledged. At some point, the blind idealism of the young gets some light shed on it, and I don't think I'm a stupid kid anymore. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe one day, I'll think like they think. I think I hope not. On the family note, my grandmother died. My father's mother. It's a footnote, I guess, but her death kind of felt like a footnote. Her existence in my world was ended like everything else she had done: without my knowing a lot about it. I didn't know a lot about her. I don't know that I ever wanted to. She was standoffish, rude, not terribly nice to me at all. I wish I could say I felt bad that she died, but I don't really have an emotion about it. I regret that I didn't get a chance to find out the things about her that were good. Beautiful. My father's mother. She must have been something incredible once. My father's handling it... I guess well, by some standards. The opposite of well by others. He sent an e-mail to The Family, and my sister said he shrugged it off. I don't know, I imagine he had a long time to see it coming, but I don't know if I could shrug it off if my mother died. I'd be in a coma right now. I'm crippled by the thought of it. I know he's hurting, but if he's anything like me - and I'm everything like him - he doesn't even know how to feel what he's feeling. We're ashamed of our own sorrow. We don't want it to be spectacle. I hope he finds peace with it, whatever that means. I hope I can too. I'm haunted by the thought that I'll never have a good memory of the woman who rocked my father to sleep at night, kissed his scrapes, held him when he had nightmares. I can't get over that I got over this so fast. I wish I'd known her. Had a laugh with her. I wish I was more sad that she died. (Comment on this)
Saturday, September 25th, 2010
3:31 pm	Three years... I can't believe it's been that long. Hello Livejournal! It's hard to believe it's been three years! I guess the advent of Myspace and Facebook kind of made this an obsolete platform for social networking, but it's strange to think that this was once the most common way of keeping in touch with the internets. I spent some time rereading old posts, and I'm flooded with memories of the man I was. I've developed an appreciation recently for modern technology's ability to create these great time capsules for our future selves and others. I mean, server farms are cheap and easy to maintain, so there's every reason to believe that one day in the distant future, I will have kids who will be the age I was when I was writing this and will stumble on my Livejournal or my Facebook, or even just find my iPod and suddenly discover a whole new dimension of their father as an emotional, connected creature with friends and a life and passion for things they never knew about. We are the first generation to have that gift, and I think it's pretty special. I doubt this is a place that anybody frequents anymore, and that's a good thing, because I'm not so narcissistic as I was, desperate for feedback for my musings. But it's good that a place like this exists so that I can periodically reflect on the person I was and dream about the man I will be. How much will I have changed again in three years when I'm (good lord!) thirty? In that vein, I've decided to revive my LJ, at least sporadically, so I can update what's going on in my head and my life, in the hopes that one day, future 'Vico will find this and see how far he's come. Because we all travel so far from the person we were, even if it's in the wrong direction or no direction at all. In that vein, I've decided to make this post a letter to past and future 'Vico. Something for me to look back at, and something for me to compare to today, to remind myself that change is inevitable and beautiful, even when it hurts. So here goes... Dear 'Vico, past and future, I'm twenty-seven! Twenty-seven! So much has happened in three years, as I imagine so much had happened in the time between when you were twenty-one and twenty-four and the time between now and when you'll be thirty. I don't even know where to begin. I think the most important thing to say is this: don't worry. I look at past 'Vico, lost and lonely, stumbling blindly into love and searching for direction. Ironically, in about two months from when you posted your last entry, you found direction and love, and are now a brilliant, passionate human being with light and joy and good friends. Allow me to elaborate: I'm an actor! Henry V and Velveteen Rabbit, both worthwhile endeavors of their own, pale in comparison to the show you wanted so badly but didn't get. At literally the eleventh hour, the lead in Disco Pigs was rushed to the emergency room with a ruptured appendix, and you were forced to take over his part at the list minute, while you were still rehearsing for Henry V. The ensuing hurricane of fear, adrenaline and raw emotion, coupled with an excellent script and an exceptional leading lady lead to one of the most rewarding experiences of your adult life. It inspired you to pursue the theatre with vigor and enthusiasm, you scored some impressive leading roles, nailed a couple professional gigs and even started a short-lived, ill-advised theatre company that allowed you to explore the possibility of directing. You took a brief hiatus that ended up being much longer than brief in a fairly lengthy battle with poverty, but I'm proud to report that I've recently come out the other side. I moved to the city about two months ago, have a steady job with good pay and next weekend, I am attending my first professional audition since the break. At the same time, your performance in Disco Pigs left an impression on someone else, and you met Nikki at the wrap party. She was gorgeous, playful and fully enamored of your Irish dialect and passionate performance. You didn't stand a chance and, though she was still in a marriage that was freshly beginning its downward spiral, began what would turn into a six-month affair with this uncompromisingly sexy vixen. Let me tell you something about love, past 'Vico: It is so much more than you have ever experienced. Nikki challenged you and excited you, expanded your horizons culturally and sexually, and ultimately left you with significantly more joy than pain. Neither of you were at a place where this relationship could be sustained, and it ended at the same time as her marriage, ironically. There was a two-year period where you didn't (read: couldn't) talk to her - future 'Vico, you remember why - but she's returned with a vengeance, and hers has become one of my most supportive, rewarding friendships. I'm currently wrestling with the notion that it is actually better to be friends with someone, no matter how much you miss falling asleep with her tucked in your arms. I don't know if my better judgement is winning - future 'Vico, let me know. After Nikki, a blossoming friendship with Robin turned into an eighteen month love affair. She was your best friend, your confidant and your lover. She was a woman whose life, light and love were so great that you were ready to marry her on that first Halloween if you could have - god, what a night! You shepherded her through the hardest time in her life, supported and loved her. It ended, as occasionally happens, eight months ago. It still doesn't feel like that long. It's been rough since then. I'm dealing with the possibility that I was the only one truly invested in the relationship. I may not have always done the best thing or had the right answers when she was dealing with her mom's death, but I always did the best thing I could do. Then, when I was suffering, she "couldn't be responsible for it." Her words. Now, though she insisted on maintaining the friendship no matter what, she's dating some new guy and has severed all ties with me. And she's turned into a different person that I'm not all that sure I even like. It's painful to watch her light fade like this, and I spend about an hour a day missing her smile, her smell, her touch and, most importantly, her friendship. I think it's one of those things where I'm so close I can't see it anymore, but it feels like that entire relationship was with a completely unfamiliar, alien impostor, and the woman I loved was imagined. It hurts, but we truck on. This is the part where I tell future 'Vico not to stress about what's coming. No matter what decisions you've made in the past, they all culminate in you being the man you are, and any direction's a good one. I mean, look at past 'Vico, and he still managed to live a wild, exciting life filled with adventures and friendships and love in the three years since he posted. The world doesn't let us stagnate. Embrace entropy. It will all be okay. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 11th, 2007
3:54 pm	Apparently, all the world's a stage... Those of you in the know are already aware that I've spent the last five days completely losing my mind. For those of you who aren't in the know... well, there you go. I've been losing my mind because, on Friday, I auditioned for three plays - a modern two-person play called Disco Pigs, a theatrical adaptation of the Velveteen Rabbit and Shakespeare's Henry V. Today, after the longest twenty-four hour delay of my entire life, the cast lists went up. I got two parts. In the Velveteen Rabbit, I will be playing the part of "Lion." The play being what it is, many of the parts are people playing the spirits of the toys in the cupboard and I am, apparently, a toy Lion. I haven't read the play and I don't know much else about it, so I can't say with any certainty that this is a big role, but there's only ten actors in the entire cast of a full-length play, so I imagine there's plenty of work to go around. In Henry V, I will be playing Fluellen, a Welsh captain in Henry's army. My familiarity with Henry V was, until very recently, limited to the St. Crispen's day speech, so I didn't even know who Fluellen was. I came home and read the play (can't find the Velveteen Rabbit online anywhere, by the way), and I couldn't be more excited. He's described by critics as opinionated, argumentative and conceited, so I can't help but think the director saw into my soul when I auditioned. Ultimately, though, the guy is loyal and honest, so I'll need to do some character work (also, Welsh? What the hell accent is that?). Plus, even though nobody else knew who the hell he is, apparently it's one of the bigger parts in the play - the guy dominates four of the six scenes he's in and has more lines than Bedford, Exeter, and the King of France put together. So my curse of apprehension has been replaced by one of time management, with major parts in two plays to rehearse for while attending school and trying to keep up with friends. Something tells me I'm not going to have much time for yoga. I'll keep everybody posted when I find out when and where the performances are happening. Meantime, wish me (bad?) luck! (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, May 21st, 2007
1:46 pm	Video Footage (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, May 20th, 2007
1:06 am	My parents' house burned down! So I was visiting Vyts in Augustana and, whilst sleeping, missed a call from my mom. About an hour later, I got a text from Ann, which read: "Mom and dad's house burned down completely. They're surveying the damage right now. You should give them a call." That cryptic message burning a hole in my brain, I excused myself from our lively debate about the merits of rubber ape masks and called my mom. The following story ensued: My parents own(ed) a house that they have been renovating for the past year. As recently as last night, the plumbers and electricians were putting the finishing touches on the house before it was drywalled, repainted and ready to live in. So, last night, whether as a result of faulty electrical work or careless use of plumbing tools (when installing and fitting pipes, apparently it's not uncommon to use a cutting torch, among other flammable devices), a small fire broke out somewhere in the house. By the time the neighbors noticed and called 911, the whole house was smoking, and by the time the first fire truck had arrived, it was a towering inferno. The flames were apparently so hot that a tree in the backyard combusted and burned to the ground. By the time the fire had burned itself out, all that remained was the front outside wall. My parents, miles away and safely tucked in their beds, were oblivious to the events that had unfolded until some intrepid reporter googled their names and found contact information for my brother, who he began to grill for information about the fire. Scott, who lives six states away in Kansas, had no idea what was going on and called my parents to find out what was happening. And that's how they found out their house was gone. You'd think the fire department would have a procedure for that or something... So here's the good news. The house was being renovated, so my parents, their dogs, and nothing of any real sentiment or value was inside. They've got a place to stay while they figure out what they're going to do and plenty of time, money and emotional support to get through this relatively unscathed (my grandparents live a couple blocks away and actually reached the scene of the crime before my parents did). The fire didn't spread to the rest of the neighborhood, and nobody got hurt during the whole fiasco. My mom's pretty upset about losing something she put so much time into, and I imagine my dad is as well, but he'll never show it. But there are about a million other ways this could have gone down, and all of them have much more tragic endings. If you know my parents and feel the urge, by all means drop them a line, I'll give you their e-mail address or whatever if you need it. I'm sure they'd appreciate it. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 15th, 2007
1:19 pm	I Need Recipes Since I quit work and school doesn't start for another two weeks and I won't be really doing a lot in the way of school work since it's summer term, I have a lot of free time and energy. Presently, I'm working on modding my laser tag gun at Kurt's, but once that's done, I'm out of ideas. As such, I'm starting to teach myself to cook things. I've grown incapable of eating fast food, and pre-made food is so wildly unhealthy that I've decided to branch out. Only problem is, I've got one recipe book, and it's not very helpful. So I need recipes. I want to dive in head first, so nothing that's two steps and involves a microwave. Let's get ambitious. My only real limitations are a rudimentary cooking set (I'm working on it, but that shit's expensive and I'm unemployed) and limited counter space (about 10 square feet, max). I've got a gas oven, a microwave, a toaster, a waffle iron, a wok (I think, though I'm taking Ann's word for it) and limitless time and enthusiasm. So ask your moms, dig through your cookbooks, do whatever you can, just get me fed. (11 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 9th, 2007
12:12 am	Empires die! Empires die! John Oliver is my hero. (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, May 5th, 2007
10:54 pm	And it's okay if you have to go away... So Kim's gone. I'm more upset about that than I thought I'd be. Or less? I'm not crippled with misery like with the Teri thing. It helps that Kim and I shared a mutual affection, while Teri was a hollow, emotionless shell into which I poured immeasurable love and attention and got nothing in return - wow, still bitter about that, I guess. I still think about her all the time. I wish we'd bothered to get some closure out of this. I think we both tried a couple times to just call this the end, but it's not something either of us really wanted. We both know there's no future for us. She can't be seriously involved with a non-Christian, and I couldn't be the kind of Christian she needs even if I could be a Christian. But it didn't make our relationship any less special, and it sucks that it had to be so short. I guess, to some extent, girls are like car wrecks. Any one you can walk away from... Bad simile? (Comment on this)
Friday, April 6th, 2007
1:28 am	We want a band that plays loud and hard every night. Just got back from DeKalb. Against Me at Otto's with Fake Problems and the Riverboat Gamblers. A triumphant event, as usual. Fake Problems were really good, the Riverboat Gamblers sucked hard (but Kurt exacted sweet revenge on their lead singer) and Against Me was in rare form. They played some new songs that I hadn't heard without neglecting any of the classics. They played a seventy-minute set, of which I spent about forty-five on stage, not more than a foot away from Andrew, bassist and golden rock god. Managed to avoid any major injuries, though we'll really see what the damage is tomorrow. Exciting day tomorrow. Vyts gets back, and we're celebrating with CO2 bombs in the Midwest Club lake. Crumpets Saturday will most likely be superlative in nature as well. All in all, this should be a weekend for the books. Now to try to sleep. Work at nine tomorrow. Current Mood: Deaf (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, March 22nd, 2007
12:00 am	I would trade it for the silence. Eventful evening. Introduced Kim to the parents - and a healthy chunk of the crowd. It went well, owing primarily to her being as charming as she is beautiful. We did a birthday-inspired dinner at Claim Jumper in Lombard, which was incredibly satisfying, even if I'm about to explode. Many praises to Kurt, whose thoughtful gift replaces Math Watch's function and aesthetic without attempting to replace it's memory. After a delightful evening, I swung by Petras' dad's office, where he and Andrew first performed then played the four songs from their demo. Each song is between six and ten minutes long, so the demo itself is over a half hour long, but it's well worth the experience if you have the stamina. He says he'll have a finished product in another couple weeks, and I might host the demo release, assuming I can get the Winnie Mansion up to Metal Code. Plus I don't know if I want a bunch of metalheads beating the shit out of my walls. We'll see. And now, I plan on getting a solid night's sleep for the first time in a week. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, March 10th, 2007
11:57 am	In Memoriam Math Watch: July 9th, 2006 - March 10th, 2007 When I arrived in Europe, I had no way to tell the time. It soon became clear that this was going to need to change, since trains and buses ran on schedules, but I lacked the funds to acquire a proper timepiece. In Lithuania, however, on the first day of our arrival, I found a box of "Frosties" - the Lithuanian brand name for Frosted Flakes - with a free watch attached to the box. I love Frosted Flakes, so I was thrilled to discover both a delicious cereal confection and the solution to my time issue in one box. It was like a message that our trip was sanctioned on high. The watch traveled everywhere with us, from the pits of Wacken to the Eiffel Tower, all the while keeping perfect time. On the last leg of our trip, I accidentally dunked it in the North Sea, and the watch, obviously not waterproofed, stopped working. However, dependable little trooper that it was, it seemed to know that it was still needed, and came back to life hours later, displaying a wildly inaccurate time and incapable of being changed. We had to convert the time it told with real time in our heads, earning it the moniker "Math Watch." When I got home, I put the Math Watch in the dryer on accident, and it fixed it completely. From that day on, it kept me (relatively) on time for work, class and anything else I needed to make it to. People constantly made fun of the Math Watch, but I defended it; it had more culture, class and loyalty in its tiny plastic-and-rubber frame than its antagonists had in their entire bodies. The Math Watch and I were inseparable. The saga of the Math Watch met its end last night at the Dropkick Murphys show. I was in the pit, having a blast, looked down to check the time, and noticed it was gone. I spent a good amount of time looking for the watch, but surrounded by hundreds of sweaty skinheads, I didn't stand a chance. I searched for it after the show, but it had long since vanished with the crowd. I dreamed last night that the Math Watch had found someone else who needed it, and now it's guiding some young punk through a new adventure. I hope that's the case. If you knew the Math Watch and would like to say something, I've left my page open for comments and condolences. If you didn't know the Math Watch, I would appreciate if you would take a moment in reverent silence of the artifacts that shaped your life over the years, and join me in wishing the Math Watch well, wherever it is. Fare thee well, old friend. Others looked in your face and saw a lame Simpsons hologram. I saw destiny. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, March 6th, 2007
11:34 am	I'm suffering a kind of creative freeze here... I need something to get the juices flowing. It feels like I'm in a stimulus rut, and it's making it hard for me to work effectively. I keep wandering onto the web, hoping to find something that'll get me worked up, but I don't know if it's out there. Used to be, games got me pumped, and I could parley that into legitimate excitement about schoolwork (when I wasn't too busy playing the games, hence the flaw). Nowadays, there's no games worth playing, and I just feel like everything I do is a stale repetition of the thing I did the day before. I just need a distraction to get me thinking critically again... (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, January 15th, 2007
5:43 pm	Six down... I've registered for two classes. The rest require I take entrance exams. Ludicrous. I have a 1420 SAT, a 34(?) ACT and a 5 on every AP test I've ever taken, and I have to take a test to prove I can read. (10 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 9th, 2007
12:54 am	Let the new night bring you peace... I'm fucking exhausted. I feel like every day since I left school, I've had to put on a performance to some degree for somebody. When I'm at work, it's impress the customers, look good for my bosses, be fun with my co-workers. When I'm with my friends, it's be fun, smile smile smile, make funny jokes, keep up. Don't get me wrong, friends and co-workers, it's fun keeping up with you, and I don't feel like I'm alone in feeling like I have to perform all the time, and I don't feel like I'm alone in finding it exhausting. But, especially lately, it's been nonstop. I work six days a week, and it's intensely social and draining, about three or four of those days I come home, I spend that time with my friends. Then, on my day off, I just spend the whole day with my friends. Impress impress impress, talk talk talk, smile smile smile, laugh laugh laugh. It's not that I'd rather not smile or laugh or talk, and I like making other people smile and laugh and being with my friends. And with half a decade of customer service, I've pretty much perfected the art of impressing customers. But the social anxiety has gotten better only to the degree that I've gotten better at concealing it over the past five years, and it's exhausting to close my bedroom door at night and spend three hours convincing myself I didn't say anything stupid before I can sleep - god forbid I actually did say anything stupid. So I'm tired all the time because I wear myself out all day then lay in bed all night drowning in anxiety. And the thing that's more exhausting than anything is that I can't see an end in sight. I can't cut back my hours at work - they're short staffed and I'd never do that to them - and the last thing I want to do is cut off my friends. If anything, I'm going to be working more in the coming weeks, and I've seen more of my friends lately than I had in the year before I left for Europe. Both of those things are great, except I'm so damn tired. It robs me of the will to be the man I want to be. I'm sarcastic and mean with people I care about, going over the line into unnecessarily hurtful. Everything affects my mood ten times more than I know it should. I spend every moment of silence doubting my friends' love of me, questioning every stupid thing I say. So I talk too much and end up saying stupid things. I'm just tired of being so tired. (9 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, October 14th, 2006
2:01 am	I think one of us needs to say it. It's been going on behind everybody's back for years now, and I think one of us needs to just come out and admit how we feel about each other, so I'm just going to say it, and I hope she follows suit. I'm in love with Ainsley Hayes. There, I said it. Now, if she wants to leave her safety net behind and step out of the world of fiction, I'll welcome her with open arms. I'm also down with Amy Gardner, but I'm only on season two right now. (11 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, September 20th, 2006
12:37 am	This racism is killing me inside. So 38 hours turned into 50 turned into 60, but I got home okay. Despite my best efforts to do otherwise, sickness and poverty have forced me back into the same groove. As soon as I get some cash saved and/or am not coughing up three pints of mucus a day, I'm fully committed to changing my lifestyle drastically. Kurt and I have done some driving/exploring, and the things we've found and done have been fairly rewarding - found an excellent record store in Hoffman Estates, Kurt got a CD and I got some vinyl in Wisconsin. Did a puzzle rally, schooled team "Mike and his buddies" with my patented "tard bellow," added another thing to the list of stuff I have to do again. So home's been exciting. As soon as I get a paycheck, it's gonna be a lot more exciting, since I'll be able to pay my bills. In the meantime, I'm sitting on my ass playing WoW most of the time, occasionally coming out to hang with Kurt and Charlie. Petras just got home Monday, so we're gonna get together sometime and compile our pictures - expect that to be done/started in the next week or so. That is all. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, September 6th, 2006
8:50 pm	It's hard to do this in german... So I'm in Hamburg, Germany, on my way home. Had a layover, got online at this seedy casin/netcafe in the train station. Going to go bookhunting in a sec (almost went into an adult bookstore on mistake - sue me, it's been 36 hours and my journey's not over for another 15). I'll post some more from home, as soon as I'm not paying 1€ for 15 minutes. Suffice it to say, for those who haven't been following along, the trip was amazing. Goddamn german keyboards... (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, August 7th, 2006
2:07 pm	Laundry, bane of my existence... Waiting for laundry to get done so we can go out in Berlin. Group of Canadian kids from Wacken are ahead of us in line, so we're making small talk in the meantime. After this, the miserable trek to Venice, then we do a little speed traveling until we meet Heather in Schoppenham. And then, Sweden and sweet relaxation. By the way, in case you didn't know, Wacken > everything. (9 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, August 3rd, 2006
7:52 am	Hey Lisa Our phone doesn't work in Austria, and it might not in Germany. I left you a voicemail, but if you somehow don't get that and still get this, we're arriving in Frankfurt at 3:39PM. I hope I told you the right time on the phone, it's really early here. Anyway, if you could let us know real quick how to get to your town, that'd be cool, and we'll try to call you from frankfurt. (1 Comment |Comment on this)