Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Travis H. Curran Face.'s LiveJournal:

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Wednesday, February 9th, 2005
4:03 pm	The Very Last Chapter. Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. -- Robert Frost This is my very last entry and my cleavage: Big Dumb Trav Face, over and out. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
12:35 am	The Almost Last Entry. It's true. It's time for this to end. The curtain shall be called. And earlier this evening I made a parody of all the lame livejournal icons kids have these days. See: Get it? Because I'm starved for attention and want everyone to feel sorry for ME ME ME. Goodnight, emo boys and girls. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, February 8th, 2005
2:34 am	Twilight of Big Dumb Trav Face Today I got my hair cut. It's really really short. It looks like how I had it when I was nine. I realized it was her plan all along. Krissy's secret strategy for keeping other girls away from me (besides the hickeys) was to tell me how cool and good-looking my long hair was. Everyone's first reaction to my hair was a flurry of compliments on how much cleaner and more handsome, and "cute" I looked. I felt really patronized by it all, like a little boy. I got a lot of attention by it though. Some people that I've just met recently didn't even recognize me at all. I shaved my sideburns and meager facial hair too, so it's really quite a different Travis Face. I'm still not used to it. I want to shake my hair out like a shaggy dog and hide behind it when I know people are looking at me and toss it from side to side like a supermodel and twist it into dreads and knots when I'm bored and forget to wash it till it gets hippie-greasy and all those other fun things....but now ... it's all gone. Now my head is cold and my ears look big. But at least I'm "cute". It's wayyyy too late for me to be up when there's a 9:30 class tomorrow. I had to write that stupid poem for Creative Writing. Unfortunately, it was about sad relationship endings. Not a fun poem at all. I like E.E. Cummings poems. Like "next to of course god america i", the one I'm memorizing for Intro to Lit. It's time for bed. This journal is nearing it's end. It's now in it's twilight, sotospeak. Current Mood: Tired Tired tired (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, February 7th, 2005
12:00 am	Bland. So. Tech rehearsals are pretty sweet. I'm starting a second journal. It hasn't been set up yet, but you'll be notified. The idea of fresh starts is really appealing to me now. I associate it highly to cutting off all my hair. Well, not all of it. But a whole damn a lot. Enough to make me self-conscious for another month or so. Where the hell is Erik? Oh yeah... seeing the Dresden Dolls. Motherfucker. It' 12:00 AM and time for bed. nighty night. Current Mood: Bland. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, February 6th, 2005
12:52 am	Bored. bored. board .Sorry... So tonight's plans of getting absolutely smashed after rehearsal were pretty much ruined. But that's okay, it's for the best. I have to get up early to meet my mom tomorrow. She and Job are taking my car away. Today was fine. Went to the redemption center with Erik. Wrote my check to Student Billing, but failed to send it on time. Went to rehearsal, met some of the tech crew, did a crossword with a few that I knew. Rehearsal went AWESOME. Our first runthrough was bland and dry and unfunny. Our second, went. so. crazy. Everything was ridiculously funny. Everything. I'm bored tonight. and a bit upset. Moving on. Goodnight. Phone Sex by Apollo Sunshine You, you love to say the word "love" all the time, and it scares me, and I'm not sure why. Through a phone is no way to love you, but you don't seem to mind. I wish my eyes and my mind would decide that I am fine so I could hear my heart tell me how I feel Current Mood: Crappa. (Comment on this)
Saturday, February 5th, 2005
12:18 am	Down Low with The Low Down So. Here's what has been going on: My parents are coming on Sunday to take my car home. I broke up with Krissy. I'm getting 75% of my hair cut off soon. I'm getting paid $550+ dollars next Friday, $420 is instantly going to my mother to pay for car insurance, books and money owed. On a lighter note, I finally made friends with the next-door-neighbors that aren't my RA Jesse. I kind of want to start another journal. Physically, I feel ugly, weak and exhausted. Emotionally, I feel like an Escher painting. Goodnight. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, February 3rd, 2005
11:07 am	yeah. I'm sick of poetry. Everyone Download: "I Was On the Moon", Apollo Sunshine "How to Be Dead", Snow Patrol "Kissing the Lipless", The Shins ..because i they just played randomly in that order and it was neat. Yesterday, in a brief nonheated discussion on politics, I've decided I'm pretty much sick and tired of hearing people hate Bush. Sure, making fun of him is fine (and so easy) but it irks me when people get all uptight and heated and ranting about Bush could might as well be Satan Himself, and we should all hate him like we hate the Devil. A girl was doing this today in class. I wanted to say the same thing I said in the brief nonheated discussion, but I didn't know her and it'd be rude to interrupt her bitching and try and slant her adamant political views. Look everyone, Bush is just an idiot. A big dumb moron cokehead spoiled daddy's boy. sorry, I'm getting all preachy. It's almost time for Intro to Lit. I realized the other day that all the "1"'s on returned papers are actually the lowest scores he gives, not the highest like I thought, so I've been doing really poorly while thinking this class was a cakewalk. I need to talk to him and see what's what and such. Then get back to the room, eat and catch up on sleep before rehearsal. Yes. Cakewalk. I'd like to walk through cake. I mean... uh... Bush is a retard. Yeah. Current Mood: irritated (5 Comments |Comment on this)
1:13 am	I could have my own damn Corner or something Too....Much....Poetry.... seriously. ( I have to memorize this one ) ( I have to revise this one ) ( I'm listening to this one ) ( And I must critique this one: ) Current Mood: dizzy (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 2nd, 2005
6:42 pm	I think I'm really starting to dig oranges. At work today, we started putting the Lysistrata set together. It's big and scary. By scary, I meant awesome. I'm kinda TO'd at the moment, since Payroll has taken it's sweet time with my check. Friday after next, I best be having $500+ clams in my bank account, or else I'm going down there with a tire iron and heads will roll. Have you ever seen a man's head removed with a tire iron, Student Payroll??? Have you?! WELL YOU WILL IF YOU DON'T PAY ME. I ate dinner alone today. The only people I knew in the lunchroom were these two lesbians I went to highschool with. Kelly, Devon and Erik hate them, for some reason or another. Something happened between them last year. They discourage me interacting with them, so I sat alone. I don't mind sitting alone. I spent all of dinner thinking about how I should've sat with them though. They are both nice to me and nothing has ever happened to nullify our friendship. Lindsay was the first girl I ever slowdanced with. Even though she likes girls more than boys. Mary/Moddy/Marcela/howevershedecidestospellhernickname graduated with my class, and I don't quite remember how we became friends but I'm pretty sure we were in high school. I decided next time this situation occurs, I will sit with them. Even if Kelly hears about it and gets mad at me. I completely believe hatred should not be second-hand. I didn't tonight, because it took me a while to think this all out while doing my best to squelch my disgust at Aramark's garlic chicken and rice, and I was already sitting alone and it would've been odd and awkward to spontaenously switch tables and interrupt the conversation they were having with their friends. I stole an orange though. Go me. TIME FOR REHEARSAL!! RUN TRAVIS RUN! Current Mood: satisfied with oranges (1 Comment |Comment on this)
12:15 am	One time, I swallowed a penny. So what do you do when you suddenly get rehearsal cancelled? Do you: - watch Revenge of the Nerds. - listen, and sing along to Apollo Sunshine. - play extensive amounts of videogames. - avoid all homework entirely. - Have excellent no-stress time. If you circled two or more, then you're almost as cool as me!!! Because I ate an orange too, and you didn't. I'm feeling good right now. ( I guess some things need explaining. ) I've been dealing with waaay too much poetry lately. I have to write it and revise it and evaluate my peer's work in Creative Writing. I have to read it and interpret it and write responses that I never get good grades on in Intro to Lit. It's weird. I'll write something and take a lot of time on it and put a lot of emotion, thought and creativity into it, then print it off. Everyone looks at it, gives feedback/criticism, and I then get to go back home and look at it. And it's crap. I don't want to change it, but I have to. Sometimes I have silly restrictions like only four lines to a stanza and only four stanzas, so it's tough. I get stuck and don't know what to do, so I forget about it until I have to and it's due. Yuck. I want to work more on it, but I don't want to be one of those guys. You know, the guys that walk around like they're lost a lot, scribbling in notebooks at the slightest whim of inspiration and getting really defensive about their work and never stop referring to themselves as "artists" and they have "art". A journal like device would really help though, so luckily this fits perfectly in with one of my previous ideas that needs actualization. .. Ready for it ?? So. Every Monday or Tuesday or some other day of the week...I'm going to dress like Doug Funnie, from the popular Nickelodeon cartoon "Doug". Green sweatervest, beige shorts, converse allstars, white tee. I'm doing it. It's like Fancy Thursday, only a bit different, and I feel a very prospective predecessor to it. THIS WAY I can carry around a journal and write things down, such as random poetry, AND do some observation work that is required for my Acting I: Stage Movement class (basically taking notes on people's behavior, mannerisms and movement...very stalkercreepylike) and it's all part of the Doug Disguise !!! I'm tired, more sleep, good night. Current Mood: contemplatively diffident (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, January 31st, 2005
11:53 pm	Ugh. Homework time. Well, you know, after this. It might be tough, Erik and Kacy are watching Grosse Pointe Blank and for some reason I feel obligated to write in this as a means of procrastination. Eh. I felt very different today. I didn't notice until rehearsal and I couldn't figure out whether it was just my mind telling me I was supposed to be acting different or whether I actually has some change in personality. The thought tired me quickly and I gave it up. Grosse Pointe Blank is really such a great great movie. Watched it last night. It was awesome. " So anyways, to the point: (where "point" equals shameless self promotion) LYSISTRATA by Aristophanes Directed by Ariel Francoeur '05 Adapted by Edward Einhorn Main Stage, Russel Hall USM Gorham campus Evenings: February 11, 12, 17-19 at 7:30 p.m. Matinees: Sundays, February 13 and 20 at 5:00 p.m. New: Wednesday, February 16 at 5:00 p.m. Tickets: $12 general; $8 senior citizens, faculty and staff; $5 students. Reservations recommended. Contact the Box Office at 780-5151. Disclaimer: This show includes innapropriate adult content, suggestives themes and language. a.k.a. IT'S AWESOME! COME SEE! BRING A DATE! BRING YOUR MOM! COME BACK AND SEE IT TWICE!!! (1 Comment |Comment on this)
2:31 am	So. Time to catch up. I went to Boston and saw Apollo Sunshine. The best concert of my life. Better than the Dropkick Murphies, Barenaked Ladies and Reel Big Fish. No joke. I bought a new jean hat. Going for some weird earth-tones look now or something like that. I don't know, Erik was talking and I sort of picked up some key words but didn't know what he meant. Whatever, it's cool. I was reunited with a friend of mine from 1st grade at UNH. It was actually less a reunion and more Abe, Erik and myself interrupting his drunk sex with our brand new cap guns. It was good to see him though. Running off three hours of sleep in a forty-eight hour period. Taking a picture of myself with the uncle of Sean from Apollo Sunshine. Okay, Erik took the picture. I lied. Sorry. Mitch Clem, unbeknowngst to myself and others, has been writing/drawing for the webcomic Joe and Monkey throughout the month of January. I'd link you, but it's pretty much crap. Mitch did good, but everything else about the comic stinks like Aramark. BUT in more exciting news, he is going to be writing for The Coffee Achievers, starting February, AND (drumroll) restarting Nothing Nice to Say, very soon. If I know Mitch's work ethic patterns, I don't know how handling both these projects will work out...but hey, I haven't seen him in a while. People change. I am hopeful. Erik, however, is not. I just wrote a poem in twenty minutes to "pass it in" a.k.a. upload it to courses's Blackboard website thing just barely in time (before 12:00 AM Monday) Earlier today, I think I just maybe have made a really really really stupid decision that A) I'm going to have to deal with for a little bit till I figure things out and B) officially makes me a douchebag. People call me douchebag. They even chant it. But they really have no proof. I rarely ever sincerely act as an asshole would. But today, I have. You have your proof. It's set in stone. I'm a douchebag. A douchebag on WAY too little sleep. It's time to pass out for, say, ten to eleven hours. I like this idea. I like it a lot. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, January 28th, 2005
12:23 am	I have exciting news!!! I'll tell you tomorrow. (Comment on this)
Thursday, January 27th, 2005
7:57 pm	I wanted to write more, but Scene 4 hadn't happened yet. WHAT HAPPENED TODAY, by Travis H. Curran SCENE 1: The Morn. What I really want to get across with this scene is basic introductory shots of Travis's life and the college setting. Showing the messy desk, the bin full of dirty laundry, the campus in bleak morning winter sunlight, etc. Some mood lighting and music (Coldplay?) to allude towards Travis not feeling well recently and the new day not holding much. It takes Travis a while to get out of bed and he barely notices Erik leave for class. He eventually rises, and sits at his computer to cue up some music. He has a long conversation with Sofie on the Internet, we do not know what is said but it pleases him at first and makes him a bit sad towards the end. I want the audience to think that something sad was brought up and he doesn't want to think about it. He gets dressed and spends the rest of the morning before breakfast reading Achewood and poking small holes into things with a safety pin. Then Erik arrives and they go to breakfast. SCENE 2: Class. We from breakfast to Travis sitting in a large auditorium room very typical of college. The professor is sitting at a desk in front of all the chairs and is lecturing for a little bit, we don't hear what he says (should it be a silent film? discuss later). A student gets up and stands behind the podium and speaks for a little bit. Everyone claps and he sits down. We see Travis unfold a piece of paper from his pocket. Written in his crude handwriting is a poem by E. E. Cummings. He looks up to the ceiling, silently mouthing the words without looking at the paper, then hesitantly checks back and speaks back to the ceiling to correct himself. Another student gets up and speaks. Applause, they sit down. Travis keeps reading the paper, closing his eyes tight and concentrating hard. He starts visibly getting nervous. Very itchy and hot. No sweat though. He quickly glances around the room after the 6th or so student is done and gets up and approaches the podium. He says the poem's name and author confidently, places the poem down and begins to speak. While reciting, he glances around the room often and quickly darts his eyes back to the paper. He sort of wobbles in place, taking a couple steps forward and back, but not going anywhere. He finishes, everyone applauds and he hurries back to his seat. He looks confused and upset with himself. He watches other students of all stereotype varieties recite their poems. Jocks, nerds, weirdos, popular chicks, etc. All without much faltering or visible uneasiness. He looks troubled and slowly crumples up the paper. Fade out. SCENE 3: Dinner. Scene starts with Travis at desk, not doing anything. Erik walks in and inquires about dinner. Travis agrees and quickly puts on shoes and jacket. Cut to the cafeteria entrance. An old lady takes their cards and swipes them. There is a large sign on the counter reading "Asian Food Night". Travis and Erik see Kelly and exchange greetings and conversation. Steve approaches. They greet him too, but less enthusiastically and with no after conversation. They all walk in. Cut to them sitting down and eating and enjoying conversation. Travis is playing with chopsticks. He walks around the buffet area and sees some large bamboo sticks. One of the guys working makes a joke to Traivs, laughs and points to them, Travis picks them up and goes back to his seat and begins using two of them as chopsticks. They're really big so it's really funny. Surrounding tables laugh at him. Old lady approaches, smiles, and takes them away. Travis makes sad face, but starts laughing again with erik and kelly. He seems very cheerful. End. Current Mood: reminiscent (1 Comment |Comment on this)
1:32 am	An interesting childhood memory of mine. So, for those of you with a large array of relatives, you may or may not remember part of the experience of sleeping over at your cousin's known as: Group Teeth Brushing. It would begin with one of the adult figures shouting "Okay, everybody brush your teeth" to the group of children playing, initially announcing that bedtime was soon. The children would all rush into the bathroom and brush their teeth together and then head off to other pre-bedtime activities. Well, it was protocol in my Aunt and Uncle's house that the procedure of brushing your teeth involved swallowing your toothpaste. You'd brush, rinse, and instead of spitting into the sink, they'd swallow it all. Why they swallowed instead of spit was not something I questioned as a child. I can recall one day, close to the age of six or seven, watching some television program at home with my parents, and seeing a character brushing his teeth and then spitting out the toothpaste-water after. I curiously asked my mother about this, and she explained to me about Flouride. Flouride, a cleaning chemical in toothpaste, is not unhealthy to swallow, but if consumed causes your teeth to develop spot-like stains, which some believe is rather unproductive to the principle of brushing your teeth, so you don't swallow it. She told me of how when she was pregnant with me, there was a flouride contamination in the water nearby and we got all our water from a local spring. This was why my teeth were permanently stained. I was delighted to learn all this, and after receiving some distasteful opinions of the unnatural coloring of my teeth at school, decided that swallowing toothpaste was not for me. Now, the event in which I'm remembering, is the first time I spit at my cousin's. The evening was going as normal, my uncle announced that teeth were to be brushed, and myself, my brother and respective cousins (four) gathered in the bathroom, all decked out in pajamas and everything. We received our labelled toothbrushes that were kept for us whenever we visited and brushed away to our hearts content. I clearly recall the thoughts running through my mind as I filled my mouth with water, leaning over the counter with my head in the sink, pondering how my newly aquired spitting habit would be received. I must not have thought too much about it, because I went ahead and did it. Spat all the fluids in my mouth directly into the sink and turned the water on to wash the foamy white liquid mess down the drain. I instantly looked up to my uncle, who was very nice to me but still intimidated me at times, especially ones such as this. He gave me the most confused look and asked in a tone of disbelief "What're you doing???" My cousins instantly jumped into the typical worried child banter of "Travis! Why did you do that! You weren't supposed to do that!" in hushed voices. You had to be quiet towards bedtime. I remember just staring back at my uncle. I don't know what my face looked like, what emotion I was displaying or anything else. I didn't say a word. Just sort of looked up at him while my cousins struggled to comprehend my bizarre course of action. From that point on, I spit instead of swallowed. Current Mood: reminiscent (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 26th, 2005
11:17 pm	I've done very little all day. It's really unfortunate. But the blizzard was nice enough to cancel classes for Erik. I've still been kinda unsound mentally. On the car issue, it's sort of perpetually raining shit on my day. Hey, this vegetarian wrap tastes great! Oh wait...I won't be able to drive for a great length of years and if I'm lucky, my car will be sold. Lucky me. On the relationship issue, I'm sort of in this phase where I just don't know what I want ("You are such a girl" - Erik), but fear not, darling krissy, I'm not going to make any drastic moves in our relationship because I'm frankly petrified of making mistakes, especially big ones that I'd regret. Sorry, that seemed vague and misleading. Don't read into it. Anyone. Krissy visiting Saturday will make everything better. I have to memorize a poem for class tomorrow. Ech. I suck. Current Mood: sort of self-pitying (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 25th, 2005
1:42 pm	I am Slightly Amused. Ian was cool enough to take neat photos of rehearsal last night, so I stole some and wanted to show all of you. because...I'm really bored. ( It'd be cooler if I put them in a Cut thing. ) It'd be cooler if I linked you to Ian's site. Much easier. Ian is much better with digital pictures than I. Current Mood: slightly amused (3 Comments |Comment on this)
12:23 am	It sucks to be my head right now. Well. My entire weekend has sufficiently fucked with my brain on multiple accounts due to multiple events. As Erik eloquently put it "God promptly decided to take a shit on you." My head has been hurting, I've been confused as all hell, and I'm really getting this existential detachment lurking around in the corners of my mind. So a general "Ugh" for how I've been mentally. In all physical appearances, I've just complained a lot to Erik, didn't really talk or speak out at all to any of my other friends, and been sort of gliding through rehearsals. I feel real bottled up, scared to speak because my words might do their best to describe my state of mind, but they wouldn't know and what they'd say would not really be how I felt. I don't know what's a lie or what's honest any more in what I say or think. I tried to tell myself I was okay, but it felt wrong coming out of my mouth. I tried to think about what's really been bothering me, but I just get angry at myself for not knowing the answers. And then I have Emmanuelle Chaulet telling me in her Acting I: Stage Movement class that "an actor must have a healthy mind and a healthy body" to succeed. This entry has been terribly overemotional and I bet it's even exaggerated, but I'm really in no state to determine either right now. I need a vacation from my current position in the time/space continuum. Some external dimension juxtapose to ours, where I could just sit and think in serene solitude, and then come back to the here and now without wasting my, or anyone's, time. I had to go into Portland to file an accident report. Mia and her boyfriend (Andy) drove me in. They're both cheerful people and it helped. She kept apologizing for it all, and I calmly told her to not worry about it and that it was no big deal or problem on my part. Tactfully excluding the information that this would cause my insurance to rise drastically, causing me a great deal of money and most possibly preventing me from driving again for a long long time. She has enough to worry about, and I don't need anyone to feel that sorry for me. She had apologized enough already. I have a week off from rehearsals. Huzzah. Possibly my first free weekend ever. Who knows. Krissy, there's a decent-sized hole on the bottom of your left wool sock. I seriously haven't not worn them for a week, I just changed the socks I used to line the insides with. Please forgive me. P.S. I'm coming for my USM hoodie, whether you like it or not. It's midnight and I have homework due. Fuck you. And goodnight. ( only the cool kids end their entries with lyrics ) Current Mood: complicated (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, January 23rd, 2005
8:06 pm	God Said No. God Said No If I let you go If you really found him Walking with the cross You would stare Your tongue no longer working Eyes no longer seeing Ears no longer hearing God said Time Time belongs to me Time's my secret weapon My final advantage God turned away From the edge of town I knew I was beaten And that now was all I had God Said No (2 Comments |Comment on this)
4:18 pm	I wrote this poem for my Creative Writing assignment. It was really late at night and I don;t know exactly what I was thinking but here it is: Inaudible Music The sun was just bright enough to be bothersome My hair was being unnaturally tossed by the consistent breeze of the swiftly passing automobiles. The harsh rush of their passing drowned out the twang of my electric’s strings, but I still continued to play the chords I couldn’t hear. His truck, drained and dead was pulled over in a monotone stretch of the interstate, and that’s where he left it, and me. He had never taken me before, because I don’t think he understood I liked it so much, probably didn’t understand why I was out here playing it either, or at least I thought. The thoughts were stale with the bitterness from which they were born, full of temporary gratification of invented inaccurate truths. Things I’d only tell myself because I wanted more justification. He had never been nice to me, and if he ever did it was only for her eye’s sake. He probably faked our friendship to the policeman who stopped to offer a ride. I believe at one point he may have honestly endeavored for acceptance which my imbedded and stubborn dislike shaded me from acknowledging It did not matter now though, my present abandonment was evidence enough. After my instructor will have been called and told to come pick me up, to save me from the lonely roadside ballad I was strumming, will he call my mother. He’ll probably not detail how he left me there to make the call possibly even fabricate a scenario in which we had lively discussion. But it doesn’t matter, I got my desired lesson and possibly got a second one on paternally developed detestation. Just a song I was glad I couldn’t hear myself play. I was really trying to tell the story of what happened without saying "this is what happened...blah" I hope it worked. What kind of heavy decisions can you make and mess up in thirty minutes:? Current Mood: exhausted (1 Comment |Comment on this)