Thursday 02.26.2015

My wife and my dog have developed a strange symbiotic/passive aggressive sleep relationship where he lays as close to her as possible, burrowed under the covers, then growls at her (in his sleep) if she rolls over on him. You’d think that after almost two years of sleeping in the same bed together they would have worked out some sort of mutually agreeable pattern- but maybe rolling/growling is it.

They also trend towards center/my side of the bed leaving a little strip for me, though tonight between her Mickey Mouse Tsum Tsum and his long spidery legs actually being folded in for once I have an unusually generous amount of space to stretch out, watch horror movies and be awake when I should be sleeping.

I’m not complaining. I like our bed dynamic. Just funny watching these two battle it out in their quest for sleep supremacy.

I’ve been a total grouch the last few weeks- the weather is no longer charming and is trending on unbearable. As much as I bitched about winter last year, this one is worse. Too much snow. Too much cold. Too much fucking cold. I’ve skipped biking in place of SEPTA and taxis though today I managed a six mile walk with the weather a much warmer 25* or so. It’s been taking a toll on my mood and routines. The last few weeks have seen me being a hermity recluse, only leaving the house for work and movies. I try to remind myself that this is winter, in the North East, and that’s how winters in the north east are, but when it gets down to 4* before factoring in the wind chill- logic can fuck off.

I’ve been mentally planning our Vegas trip- Julia is joining me for APP this year- just to think about the warmer weather. Not the friends I’ll see and be able to introduce her to, or my beloved Bellagio buffet- but the 109* temperature that I’ll most likely bitch about once I’m out there but for now am drooling over.

Fucking winter.




Friday 08.02.2013


(I forgot to click PUBLISH on this the other day!)

I was born 39 years ago today.
I don’t really remember it. I’m sure there was some crying.
Originally my name was going to be Shawn Patrick Porter. Somehow I got saddled with Kevin Shawn instead. Kevin.  Not a fan.
It’s been a super chill birthday so far. Woke up semi-late at Julia’s, walked Bail back south to my place and watched Hellboy 2 then met up with Julia for a quaint little picnic in Rittenhouse park where she had packed up figs, salami and a stinky cheese, an orangina and a kombucha and a chocolate bar. Perfect little mild winter treat. She got me the most appropriate present imaginable and we sat in the park making funny stories up about people walking by, watching out for cute dogs and being all smoopy and lovey all over instagram.

Couldn’t have asked for a better birthday.

Most days lately are like that; couldn’t ask for a better one but knowing that tomorrow will be better than the day before, no matter how rad the day before was. I miss therapy some days but have been super proactive about talking about what’s going on in my life good and bad with people I trust. When I was in therapy I waited for the little revelations to happen; breakthroughs that helped drive some sort of change and help me figure out some of the baggage I carry around with me. The other night, Movie Night with Erin (Red2) I had one, out of nowhere. We were walking down 4th street, Erin, Elvis the dog and I, and I realized that everything I was telling her, my ad hoc therapist, was good stuff. I used to look forward to movie night every week so I could bitch about the previous seven days; even when things were ‘mostly good’ there were still those petty annoyances that I just fixated on, let fester and grow toxic and allowed to weigh me down.

The other night was more about how rad things are around me.

So 39. One more year till 40.

If this is what it’s like… I’ll take it.

Photo: Picnic by Julia. 

Wednesday 07.31.2013


A few updates ago I went off on a tirade about the lack of video stores in Philadelphia (and much of America, I’m sure) and how we have less options these days than we did five, ten years ago. Luckily for us, Philadelphia at least has Exhumed Films. I’ve been going to their shows off and on since I moved to Philly; sometimes in New Jersey, sometimes in the city proper- wherever they have a location. They’re a group of movie fans who screen rare 35mm prints of cult, horror and exploitation films, sort of like a less commercial Alamo Draft House save that they don’t have their own location. It’s moved around quite a bit and most recently has a home at the International House on Chestnut Street.

My schedule these days means that I miss most of their offerings, but when things line up I always try to make screenings, even if I’ve never heard of the movie being shown. Last night the boys hosted REMOTE CONTROL; a little seen 1988 horror flick from by BLUE SUNSHINE director Jeff Lieberman starring Kevin Dillion, Deborah Goodrich and Jennifer Tilly. Best of all, Jeff was on hand to introduce the movie, show a 16mm print of his first short, an ironically trippy antidrug PSA called RINGERS. The turnout was good; I always want to see more people at these screenings but there were at least 100 in attendance, so that was pretty rad. It’s always good to see these movies with a full and appreciative audience. Having seen ONLY GOD FORGIVES in San Diego with a packed house of people who didn’t realize they were seeing a weirdo art film a few weeks ago.. I really appreciate an audience that knows what it’s getting into. Jeff stuck around for a Q&A after the movie but I had to jet; missed out on that as well as picking up a poster/print for the screening. I always do that. I swear I’m going to start biking there with a poster tube in my bag.. I missed out on the TCM2 print a few months ago for the same reason. One day I’ll learn.

But all that aside.. it was a great night. The film was appropriately cheesy and worth seeing. I love when they do movies on my free nights. I was sad not to see my friend and fellow cult film nerd Rob at the showing, but as luck would have it, I randomly ran into him today and we had an in-depth movie nerd sidewalk conversation that ranged from old work stuff (Apparently Dave Clark, the biggest douchebag I met in all my years at Amazon- bigger than Paul Lysko, Jenna Owens or Fern) just shared the stage with President Obama in some Amazon PR crap. We had a lot of sport with that, then moved on to discussing 1980s porn, cut scenes, the death of the video store culture… all the stuff that makes life worth living. Rob and I have this weird friendship where we see each other in random spots. Been that way since we worked together and has continued the three plus years I’ve been out of the DFC.

So much nerdery.

Otherwise it’s a nice slow day. Haircut, finally. Gym time. Playing mediator between Bailey and
Mervin as they both fought to use me as a pillow. Built a bicycle for Julia and then m
ore Game of Thrones reading and gearing up for movie night with Erin at 7pm. Full day so far and it feels like it’s just starting.

In two days I turn 39.

Tuesday 01.29.13


Hello again, blog.
It’s early evening and I’m laying in bed, slightly ‘relaxed’ and enjoying season 2 episode 1 of BBC’s SHERLOCK. I just got home from a really good gym day- extra cardio and increased weight for my arms- and am patiently waiting movie night with Erin. We’re going to see Hansel and Gretel tonight; I’m not really expecting much so I’m sure I’ll at the very least be entertained. Movies like that usually do their job for me. If you don’t go in to it expecting something profound and just enjoy it for what it is- in this case a campy big budget SFX showpiece- you’ll probably enjoy it.

I think there’s a metaphor or life lesson in there somewhere.

I feel bad for neglecting my blog; I really do get a lot out of cataloguing my days and being able to go back and see what I was doing on a specific one. And I have no excuses. Haven’t really been that busy of late, just enjoying life and forgetting to document it. I’ll work on that.

I had a pretty huge issue, again, with the Southwark Station USPS location on 9th and Dickinson street last week. Above and beyond them constantly losing my packages, the customer service is legendarily bad. I think this is the wakeup call I need to just stop using the USPS as well as is practical. All of the standard cliche’ aside-there’s a reason that they’re going bankrupt. I’ve written about it at length; to the Postal Inspector, Consumer Affairs, etc so I’m not going to bother going into the sordid details, save to say that there is a hell, and it’s the 9th and Dickinson South Philly ‘Southwark Station’ Post Office.  Luckily one of the two packages they lost- 24hrs apart- finally showed up.

I mentioned the gym earlier; I’ve been a lot more strict about going lately. I haven’t really gained any weight, but I’ve certainly lost some focus over the last few weeks and my daily trips and tightly controlled food intake has become every other day and bad for me food here and there. It’s ok to take days off and splurge a little calorically, but I think I was letting it get out of hand, so I checked myself, reorganized my workouts and have been making a renewed commitment to getting back on track. I’ve finally added daily jogging into the mix; still not my thing and at the moment it’s just been on the treadmill at 12th Street, but it’s better than not jogging I guess. I already feel better thanks to getting back on track. Some sort of irony there; exercise myself silly and feel better. You’d think it would be the opposite. I met a really rad 81yo lady the other day at the gym the other day who really had a lot of inspirational things to say about healthy living. When we were talking I told her that one of my fears of being an obese 40yo (I round up) was that I’d end up being an obese 80yo, or worse yet not live to see her age. We chatted for quite some time and her PMA really rubbed off on me. Such a weird life.

(break to go to the movies)

So Hansel and Gretel turned out to be exactly what I was expecting, and as such, no disappointment.

Tomorrow is ‘clean your house, man’ day, so I’m going to try to get some sleep instead of sending letters to the internet.

Photo: Back in Denim