With\out Ambition's Journal

3:01AM - Progress

"You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment comples," Postal Service.

The quote came streaming from my CD player, an odd reminder that yes, I am, in fact, actually in Denver, sitting in my gaudy apartment complex.

I made progress on the screenplay. I remembered something that happened when I was a kid that made perfect material for my opening. There was this legend in Pennsylvania about this road I can't remember the name of. It went through Newton-Ransom but that's all I remember. Anyway, it was really curvy and dark and in the forest, and there was a story that you could honk your horn three times over a bridge, turn your headlights out, and a ghost car would chase you. I actually tried it with some high school friends. I don't think I went over 10 mph. I remember pulling over for a car. Anyway, there was no ghost car.

Anyway, I made Rick, the protagonist, take some friends on a similar adventure. Except Rick is an expert driver and takes sharp turns really fast with no headlights. He ends up taking his friends off a cliff, killing them and paralizing his right arm. He also loses an eye. I have this great scene with a Yoga-like instructor having him breathe into hus arm. This starts a short story I wrote in college.

Anyway, I'm setting up that this incident, where he killed his best friends, began his spell of bad karma. I'm going to age him quickly into his stock broker job, and have an active realization of his Karma as PP1.

Incidentally, I leave it hanging whether or not there was a ghost car. I haven't decided. The story is supernatural, but it's not about a ghost car, so I can't decide if it should have been real or not. It will haunt him, that's for sure. I suppose I'll poise the question to myself and aswer it in process.

I also got some work done on the Master's foundation course in Accounting. I have economics, finance, and statistics after this. All done by end of march. I'm a damn Gen-x slacker, I'm coming to terms with it. I blog, for Christ sakes.

Current mood: productive

Current music: Postal Service

(say something)

1:27AM

Well, I didn't go out with anyone from work yesterday, so I guess I deserved being ignored. I feel sorry for the poor schleps that volunteered to work a Sunday. Sorry, because they must be confused. It's like that commercial "Take back your vacation," where people seem unable to balance work with other aspects of life. My job is a chore. Knowing this, however, I feel free to attend and move on.

I found the garbage can for my new home office area. Little, I know, but I'm staying positive. Found it at the container store, and Wednesday I get the desk, printer stand, chair, and bookcase. I already have some overhead lights from Urban Outfitters, and I need to get a desk lamp. Please don't mind my style-in-a-bottle approach to interior design, but frankly, I'm working on a budget. The goal is a positive space to complete these four graduate courses and the SCREENPLAY!

My order came in today, original screenplays of Wall Street and Poltergeist, tools I should have gotten forever ago for Bad Karma. Since the idea is a bit overworked at this point, I should try a new revelation to the screenplay to re-excite my interest. Meaning, I should remember the point and stick to it.

Valentine's Day is Monday and I didn't send anything to Katie. I'm a bad post-ex-reinstrated-longdistance-boyfriend, I guess. At least I told her. I'd feel bad if she was waiting for something. She didn't get me anything either. She just told me to send the marching band home. Cute.

Current mood: optimistic

Current music: Smashing Pumpkins

11:52PM - Getting real

Time to get real, man.

Truth is, i haven't accomplished much since I've been in Denver . . . haven't really accomplished much since Sophomore year of college.

I have goals. Save money. Loose weight. Finish the current screenplay. Simple, three goals. Problem is, I let myself distract myself. I'll really need to go to Tower and grad four or five CD's. I'll really need to get new clothes. Truth is, I feel a little out of place in Colorado and think maybe I want to do things that remind me of New York. Perhaps I'm more nostalgic than anything. It would be just as well to go into Tower and get ONE CD. Or maybe just wear the clothes I have for awhile. Nobody in Denver cares what they wear, anyway.

And I had this idea that I'd quickly make friends. I did, but I think I had the idea that I'd actually like the friends I made. Not that I'm a huge elitist, but the people I've met so far have only been . . . more distractions. As I get older, I find that people's opinions get much stronger. People are easilly put off by things like politics and such. Even in college, things never seemed too much to be unreasonable. Most of the time.

Maybe it's Colorado, or maybe it's the Midwest I'm so unused to. Like strong religous groups. Republicans. Junkies. You wouldn't believe the drugs in Colorado. Seems far beyond recreational use, and this is a guy that spent five years in New York. Oh well, to each his own, I guess.

Honestly, maybe it has nothing to do with Denver or Colorado or the Midwest. Maybe it has nothing to do with my or their personalities. Maybe it has nothing to do with culture, or psychology, sociology, etc. Maybe it's God after all . . . Perhaps I'm not meant to do anything in Colorado except save money, loose weight, and finish my screenplay. Perhaps some higher power is keeping me in check, perposely ruining any ambition except those that will lead me closer to my goals. Perhaps it's not God at all. Perhaps there is no God. Perhaps there is only my subconscious working - moving myself closer to things that are actually important to me.

At any rate, if it all works out, I'd like to thank whomever is responsible . . . God or otherwise.

Current mood: anxious

Current music: Garden State Soundtrack

(say something)

11:51PM - Settling in . . .

Settling into my new apartment. Thanksgiving is OVER. Time to chill out, finally, in my apartment. Just have to find some finishing touches around this shithole - a neon flamingo and martini glass sign, plants, art, office furniture. I have a list, somewhere.

Current mood: sleepy

Current music: 93.3

(1 said something | say something)

12:18AM - Where have I been?

Where have I been? Why haven't I written anything in my blog? Did I have anything left to say? Was I dead? All very difficult things to answer.

The truth is, I don't know why I haven't blogged. Haven't had the taste for it. Went through a period of confusion. Wondering what to write, and if I wrote was what I wanted to write. Second guesses. Felt like I had something bigger to write. Something deep or something real. I was concerned, after all, Dougie Howser never ran out of things to say. How could I? I can say I was too busy, but I think it would be an excuse. I suppose my mind was too busy, filled with a tendancy to look too deeply into itself. My nerves had gone numb to outside impulses, reactions to things like people and places. The ego overtakes the id. In that state, self-reflection becomes impossible because its a constant.

I had to move out of New York. My fans remember. No, I didn't have any fans. I think I'd only ever gotten one comment and I deleted it. Well, read the past and you'll see. Yes, I lived in New York. Five total years. Four NYU years and a stint in Brooklyn. I remember having an urge to shake things up. I was working on Maiden Lane in the Financial District doing marketing. I wanted to write screenplays. Wanted to act or direct. I wasn't doing any of those things. Worked like a dog to pay the rent. Wanted to stay. Wanted to go. Needed a plan. Wanted to go get drunk. Didn't have time to audition or write or do anything. Spent weekends taking my laundy on the subway and back. Had a roomate that I felt dispised me. So, I left for Denver, CO.

You see, my parents moved to Denver while I was in college. I moved back in with them. Lame, I know. When was that? May or June. Months ago.

I found a sales job. Gross, I know. But the good thing is I'm making money. I moved into an apartment. I now live alone. How great is that? I'm using my money too. Paying off debt. Trips. California. And soon, savings. $24,000. A thousand a month for two years, and I won't stay for long.

And the best news in recent history. An agent read my pitch from the NYU screenplay bank and wants to read it! I know, I know, big deal, what are the chances for representation? Well, it's a big fuckin deal for me. Why? Someone is reading my screenplay! That's huge! Someone who knows something about something. Let's hope.

Just want a house on the beach, just want a house on the beach, just want a house on the beach . . .

Now, the challenge. To finish the screenplay. Yes, that's right. I submitted a story w/o it done. I have untill Christmas to finish it. I'm on page 42, and after my screenwriting group, I have some revisions to do. Pretty good, I think, for a few weeks. It'll be done. I promise you.

Again, if you're reading this, I could use your help. I need some good Karma around the piece because it's called "Bad Karma." I need you to hope it happens as much as I do. After all, you'll love the movie.

I've been sick the last few days, but I'm more determined than ever. Determined to finish the screenplay, to do well at work again, to get over this cold.

Have a great Thanksgiving.

Current mood: productive

Current music: None

(say something)

3:29AM

I just woke up with a violent "Fuck!"

And this dude was standing there, in my door. I recognized him after I shook off the sleep. My roommate's cousin, Parish. So I woke up and hung out for a bit. Justin's other cousin, Paige, is also here. She goes to USC so I like talking about LA with her.

I'm seriously thinking I should move out there - I think after the summer.

I finished my last three finals today. That's it. I'm done. I graduate the 15th. I can't fucking believe it, I really can't. Four years are up. I still remember being a kid, and looking out at my dreams of the future, and seeing something very different than today.

People would never be depressed if it weren't for expectations. It's all right though, I know it. I've discovered that fact, and it makes me feel ok. My present is better than any dream I can have because it's here - its tangible.

Everything's gonna be ok. This time's gonna be real.

Current mood: accomplished

Current music: Strokes

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1:41AM

Graduation equals stress.

I got "let go" at Troma on account that I missed the Monday after Easter because I was helping my family move, the next Fri because I was needed at the galley, and then I wanted to take the next Mon and Fri off to get my work finished up. That meant two weeks of not being there. I understand why they let me go, but I'm a fucking volunteer.

I spend all night scheduling myself. Today's May First, I have to get the apt paid for.

I'm going to a cool panel discussion on May 8th for screenwriters at the Tribeca Film fest. Cant wait!

I'm gonna relax with beer and forget all this shit.

Current mood: relaxed

Current music: Strokes

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1:57AM

Strange day.

I went to the art gallery this morning and installed the new show. The artist is Michel Alexi and I'd love to own it all.

Of course, I'm not rich.

I've been pretty stressed out. Not too much look with the job hunt, and opportunities have seemed scarce. My degree is a slight problem, undergraduate drama, theater, acting, whatever it says. It's hard to explain how priorities change throughout college. It shouldn't be. Who knows what they want to do in high school?

And the truth is, maybe they haven't changed. Maybe everything's just so foggy right now, that I've forgotten what I really want.

At work, my cell rang. It was Arcade Publishing to set up an interview for an internship. Figure it out as I go along, right?

Then, I came home and Newsha IMed me. I haven't talked to her in awhile, so it was cool to have her "Hello." But then she started venting on me. I got a little angry. I was confused.

She's supposed to call again soon. It's important that I make it clear to her that I DO care about her because, truthfully, I do. We have fun together. We get along. She gets me. We're just coasts apart, and it just makes everything complicated, Avril.

And then Dalit showed up at the door. The last person I expected to see. "Hey, what's up?" I said, surprised. She says, "Actually, I'm here to see your roommate."

If there was nothing else to push me out of college, that was it. So typical, and proves my hypothesis that my life works like a movie. It was so fucking dramatic. I looked like a fool and felt like a tool. I just went to my room and swallowed my pride.

I went for coffee and edited the screenplay. When I came back, I asked the roommate if he had any weed, and asked if he wanted to go in on any. Just light conversation, to show I wasn't phased.

The truth is, I don't need the drama. I don;t really get along with Dalit, so it shouldn't matter, and my roommate doesn't need my blessing to fuck. Such is life. After I thought about it, I got the joke.

I'll never forget Lee Strimbeck's words, "Tom, you smile because you sense the irony in life." I'd rather loose some pride than loose that.

Current mood: thoughtful

Current music: Eric Clapton - Layla

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2:58AM

What would a baby ape do if he wanted to rule the world? He'd study business and move into a studio on the Upper West Side. After carving out and assembling the building blocks of life, he'd have himself a seven room in a tower of real estate.

The building would be a conglomerate community. Each floor its own development, either real estate or commercial, housing floor zones dispersed among a Health Club, a Laundromat, a Bodega.

He puts his life into investments. His wife freelances articles and edits unsolicited publications while keeping track of the household income. She organizes the labor, buys and resells furniture, same with paintings, keeps inventory of toothpaste, brushes, hair gunk, soaps, cleaning supplies, and the like. She formulates travel packages as options, and the options are discussed at family meetings. The children are made play dates, sent to school, and given a capable amount of nurturing.

The children are scheduled sports activities, social events, and get-togethers. It is important to keep them healthy while young. A nutritionist plans their meals once a month, they are given skin detoxifying, exfoliating, and hydration treatments. Hair cuts once a week. Yoga. Palates. Kickboxing. There is ample time for scheduling modeling sessions for boys and girls to reintegrate the expenses.

They'd work between the Manhattan location, a house in the suburbs, and the vacation home.

The ape would spend a lifetime as king. He'd see his face on television one day. He'd see the world. He'd be a king among kings, all traveling together like packs of lions, meeting on flights, business tips, and through the myriad of telecommunication possibilities.

He will age and gain the understanding of an owl. Once his physical life is collapsed, he will look at all he's ever done, and all he's ever known. He will have gained the understanding of his mortality, in the later days of life where the immortal become a reference.

Current mood: aggravated

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11:34AM

I went to see the next apartment yesterday. At first I thought I liked it, but then it started to bug me. One of the walls was built and I didn't want to stare at it all day, even though the room is bigger, I liked the one from the day before with the brick better. So I called Wing and asked if I could move in. He said I seemed like a good roommate so he was chill. On Saturday I have to meet with the landlord.

I just woke up so I feel like a zombie.

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10:18PM

Went apartment hunting today.

I found a bunch of people looking for roommates on Craig's List. I called a bunch of people and some got back to me. All of them were in Brooklyn, East Williamsburg.

The first was Jenny. The room was nice, but without a window. It was a loft space, so it was very big and comfortable with a lot of light. Modern industrial space. She runs her business out of the space. Actually I found out it was a commercial space and no one's supposed to be living there. That's a minus. She's 27 and does video. The video's a plus, but she said, "I sort of do my own thing and expect you to do yours." A total annoying hipster thing to say because the comment was really about herself and how chill she is. I'm not looking for a best friend, but definitely someone I can be friends with, so that's a big minus. I don't want to live with a girl. I also don't want to live in anyone's editing room now that the film is cut. Lame.

The second place is it, I think. Very chill guy, 24 years old. Used to work for Vice magazine and then Mixer. Now, he's going to culinary school. Said he's interested in someone he can chill with. Seemed very laid back. The room was good sized. Beautiful place, newly renovated, and the cheapest yet. Lots of great exposed brick, all new appliances. Close to Bedford and the L.

Third guy was around 35-40. He played basketball for the Puerto Rico Olympic Team. Now he teaches basketball to kids, and he plays in a rock band at night. The room was tiny and no window. The place was a bit eccentric. He was probably a complete madman. He had built most of it himself. He was semi-friendly, but very distant and detached. You know, crazy like.

I'm checking out another place tomorrow.

Current mood: okay

(say something)

11:05PM - Finished Scariatrics First Draft!!!

I did it. Last night, I got to the end of the first draft of the screenplay. (page 99.) Today, in class, we read the pages.

It feels amazing to have finished a screenplay. After all the years of trying since I was a kid, I finally feel like I got my shit down. This screenplay isn't the best, but its DONE. And I don't care what anyone says, 100 pages is HARD.

So, now I have a full two weeks of revisions before I have to turn it in. That's plenty of time to polish, and then I start the next.

Current mood: accomplished

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12:39AM

Dalit called last night.

Troma sucks. I don't really get the fanaticism frpm some of the other interns. For them, it's about working at Troma. For me, it's about showing up a few times. The difference manifests itself in conversations, and I wonder if I'm learning anything.

Alicia's still sick, so I led rehearsal. I appreciated the time to work on the "Instructions" scene with the cast. The show is still being blocked. Right now we have a few dozen moments. The cast was extremely focused tonight and helpful, so we got some good work done. Problem is I don't really like what I came up with. Needs work.

I started with 5 lines and a circle formation with the four chorus members. Then, we interjected the character moments. Then, we went back and added the office moments at the desk and the dialogues.

As it turns out, my parents are moving to Denver. What the fuck? Skiing this winter. The plan: intern until Sept and save money, then 8 week New York Film Academy program, then ski trip and work in Colorado and apply for PA jobs, then work as a PA somewhere and apply to grad school, then, grad school for film. It works for now.

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6:25PM

Last night I went for a walk, really so I could bum a cigarette. I got all the way to Ave A, and then back to the dorm. There, in front of the dorm, was this girl smoking a cigarette. She let me bum one and said I was the most polite about it all night.

So was chill and we talked for awhile. Her name is Dalit. Her friends showed up and we went out for a drink. They didn't know where to go, were considering "collegy" bars, I really wasn't in the mood. So we went to Black and White. It has a chill atmosphere and is close by so it wasn't bad.

So I called her tonight and we're going to a party. Emmet is throwing a party where everyone has to bring a work of art to get in. "It's good for the soul," Emmet says. She's going to hate it and me by the time it's over. I don't think she waxes Bohemia.

Current mood: horny

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9:36PM

I have to seriously ration my food this week. I should have never have sold my meal plan. Mom's depositing a hundred bucks. Seems great, but 90 of that has to go towards the credit card. (I'm 80 overdrawn and I don't want a charge on the 15th.) So, I'll have ten dollars for the week. I'll have to be creative with the grocery shopping. I won't be able to do laundry.

I'll have to try and sell some things. I'll try and sell my books. I have one from last semester and a few for this semester I don't need. I just hope there isn't a season for buying books back.

Whatever. Being poor sucks. I have a fucking headache and I haven't been smoking regularly for days now.

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1:36AM

I've already started talking myself out of quitting and thats stupid. I have to do it though. I bought a pack. I'm giving myself two cigarettes in the evening. That's fair, I think.

My deli doesn't even SELL cigarettes anymore. Fascist New York. That's so lame. The world is changing. Everything.

I read Running Wild by J.G. Ballard. Excellent, would love to adapted. I think it's been already made into a film, though. So I should research that before I get too into it. It has great potential for an excellent screenplay, though. It's about a mass murder in a gated community in London. Beautiful. Great asthetic, something i could really enjoy.

I saw something about it being made into a movie on IMDB, but I'm going to look more thoroughly into it. Maybe it was a "foreign film." Maybe still possible. Contact the author? Right.

Current mood: calm

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12:34AM

I only had two cigarettes today. It's so hard to quit, but the time is right. I told myself that I would quit when I graduated, and now that smoking is banned in bars and restaurants in NYC, the time is now. Fucking Godless politics. Man, it's hard. Makes it difficult to concentrate at all.

I went to Alt on A to have some coffee and work the screenplay, but I couldn't handle it and had to leave. It was bizarre. The place was practically empty. Lifeless. Missing the dirty air and ashtrays and ash on the counters. The place had been wiped clean, a sterile homage to the new world, the new New York, the conservative America. It all set deep. Seems like everyone these days is doing the "right" thing. "It's hip to be square." Losers.

Couldn't even focus on the screenplay. Doesn't seem normal to write without a cigarette in my hand. It feels out of character.

I cleaned my room today. Put the ashtrays in the kitchen. Threw out lighters. Seems like everywhere was an old, empty pack of smokes. I stress the word empty. I rechecked each five times in hope of one single stale smoke. I won't buy any though. Can't anyway, I'm completely broke.

Tried to call my parents for money. My dad answered and was a complete dick. What's nice about being twenty two is I can just say, "All right, goodbye." and not have to hear it. Yeah, I know, that's shitty, especially since I was calling for money.

I went to the Tribeca Grand the other day, looking for a job. I didn't meet Human Relations, but found out what her name was. I saw the guy that works the door, turns out he graduated from ETW also. Plus, I have my uncle's friend that has some big job at that place. So, that's three names to drop. Cross fingers.

I will get through this. Two cigarettes is pretty good. It's making me tense though. I snapped at Alicia on the phone, nothing major, but I'll have to apologize for that. Hopefully I won't loose all my friends before the nicotine is out of the blood stream.

Current mood: anxious

Current music: Flock of Seagulls - Ran so Far Away

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3:37AM

So, I just invested in The Sims for the Xbox. I like making them change clothes and take baths.

I had rehearsal for the project I'm assistant directing. The director is a dance/theater maker working with a cast in her own piece. It's a combination of "text and movement." She's working with celebrity, The Seagull, and commercials among other things.

I am contributing to the "Flight Attendant" section of the piece. Yesterday, we generated dialogue for the flight attendants. Today, we came up with some physical character shapes, and then movements. We connected the text and the movements together. Also worked in some "Monsters" and transformations from the flight attendants into monsters. In the end, we had some nice structures.

It's nice to work on this theater because I've been so focused on film. Maybe pushing something to far. Theater is good. It's visceral. It's all right there laid out for you. The tools and the creation. With film, there's so much planning. The writing resides so much on "ideas."

Was a stupid ass this morning. I've tired myself out. Last night, I stayed up too late, so this morning, I didn't get up and thought I missed my film presentation. Yes, the one I've been hounding my group members for. I'm so fucking lucky, I guess, because our group didn't have to go until next week. That really saved me. Duh!

Then I went to Troma. Today, I put "cells" together. They were giving a gift to somebody and wanted seven cells, from the "Toxic Crusaders" cartoon. So, I put the cells with backgrounds and matted them. I also put some sales kits together. I think Lloyd may have called me a prick as I was changing his garbage can.

Good thing about that computer game "The Sims" is a sham. Upward mobility in a career path? Get a job from the newspaper? Bullshit. That's fo shizzle.

Tomorrow's the weekend. I have to get my life organized.

Current mood: tired

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9:05PM

When it rains, I get so damn tired.

I woke up today and made it to my screenwriting class with the new pages printed out. I was worried because I was only up to page 73. We're supposed to be at 80. I was maybe ten minutes late because the computer lab was packed. I show up, I sit down, and Rob (the teacher) says, "So Tom, what page are you on?" As it turns out, I'm the closest to finishing the screenplay on time. I have the most pages. I was shocked, I mean, I'm not even a dramatic writing major.

That's huge for me. This is the furthest I've ever come to actually finishing a screenplay. It's not bad either, Rob was saying how scary it is, and the other kids thought it was scary too. That's the number one most important, thing, I'd say, when writing a horror movie. Next a good story, and Rob also said it was a page turner.

But there's still work ahead. The way I see it, I have 27 pages for a kick ass ending. I know my pages 85-90, and I pretty much know what needs to happen from 90-100. Somehow, during these 27 pages, I need Max's suicide, Bertha's revelation as Donna's sister, Donna's revelation as an 85 year old woman, the Back to the 40's dance, the confrontation between Bertha and Donna, Donna's almost death, to defeat Bertha.

So, I decided not to write anything yet. I printed out the 73 pages as a hard copy, and I'm going to re read what I've written. I'll have to force myself not to EDIT, per say, because then I'll be lost in editing. I'm so close to the end, I don't want to be rewriting yet. Instead, I'm going to look for anything I missed, and big story holes, and any set ups I've forgotten to pay off. Oh, that reminds me of the cross necklace. See. Then, I'll write down all the things that need to happen in the next 27 pages and do a new outline for the end. I've got to end this right.

When I do that, I'll print out the whole thing, and do revisions from there. I'd like to clear up the dialogue in that process, clean up the scenes, make it move quicker, and spend more time on characters.

Geez.

So, after screenwriting, I came hope and took a nap. Then, met up with my film group and got everything straightened out for class. Then we had class. I bumped out early to go work out. All this writing was making me feel sluggish.

All this work now, however, is distracting me from figuring out a plan post graduation. Its so hard to have time for everything.

Current mood: determined

Current music: Pixies - Surfer Rosa

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2:06AM

I have to say, the best feeling in the world is relaxing after a long, hard productive day. It's so lame, but it's true. I know because I have experience. I think the lowest point in these last four college years have come from sheer laziness. It takes will to get up in the morning. It's a small part of life, but highly underrated.

It makes New York a lot better, too. I feel excited being up in the morning, and taking the subway with all the professionals, artists, thinkers, and the hopeless that make up New York. Actually, it's probably just Spring.

It's true though, I like being busy. It's good to have work to do. It's accomplishment.

Good bye Winter, and good fucking riddance. Seriously. I bet if I was diagnosed, I'd be one of those people that needs sun. I always say that. It doesn't matter, I don't care.

Had drinks with Katie. She's such a Lady, in the Royal sense. It's funny that just sitting next to her, a person wants better manners. She's not pretentious either. She's genuine..

Had an interesting conversation with a friend of hers. She was a Republican, and young. So strange. So strange in New York. I discovered this as I joked about the Michael Moore Oscar moment.

Funny - I just looked up Columbine in Yahoo, and clicked on Bowling for Columbine, to reference Michael Moore's name. The first three site listings on Yahoo are criticisms of his work, saying "more a work of fiction." Apparently referencing his words from the Oscar speech. The world is so right wing, so full of scared, patriotic rats. It's odd how majority can be created by simple things like lists.

I come from an interesting perspective, being 22. My teen years flourished during the liberal 90's. We had Bill Clinton's BJ. We had the Gen Xers to look up to. We had bisexuals in high school. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Phish, marijuana, Reality Bytes. I miss the old, liberal USA - even if it did seem dull, even if we did always complain that "nothing ever happened." "Oh well, whatever, nevermind," right?

Current mood: relaxed

Current music: RadioHead - The Bends

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