1.) That I was great.
2.) That I was responsible for most of Boston’s Pop Tart consumption.
3.) That I left the name Jonathan behind me.
4.) That I gave the world around me music, and that my world was my friends.
5.) That I was tortured by the unwanted advances of Lucy van Pelt for years and years. The world needs to know of my suffering.
6.) That despite my loathing for humanity as a whole, I remained a loyal friend.
7.) That I never respected that joke of a band Coldplay. Ever.
8.) That I loved.
9.) That I was loved in return.
10.) I just want to be remembered.

Thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. It was greatly appreciated. I still have some cake left.

(mun note: treat this next part as meta I guess? I just thought it was a funny choice of song. The ipod KNOWS.)

Song of the month shuffle

( press play )

Happy Birthday, Rerun!

Everyone who knows him had better tell him the same.

Horrible music is still being made, stupid people still exist and Grey's Anatomy still manages to draw viewers. That being said, I'm happy, and I enjoy feeling this way.

What makes you content?

When I say dinner table, I mean topics not discussed in my apartment. I do not usually eat dinner at a table, but regardless, these are topics of discussion which I prefer to avoid.

1.) "real" jobs
2.) Chris Martin, John Mayer, James Blunt etc.
3.) Lucy van Pelt
4.) high school
5.) cars and clothes, they're in the same category not because I get annoyed by them, I simply don't care for them as conversation subjects as long as they function as they should

Find a picture of someone who broke your heart:


Unfortunately RDJ still doesn't know who I am.( more under the cut )

Hello from a hotel room. Rerun and I are currently in Cleveland, Ohio, making our way across the country. We have decided to vacation by taking a road trip to Las Vegas. Once there I am unsure of how long we'll stay, but we both have flexible jobs so that shouldn't be a problem. Tomorrow morning we are going to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and spending a few hours there before continuing on our venture. We will be taking pictures and collecting souvenirs along the way. This should be fun.

When people...

1. make that clicking sound with their nails by flicking one against the other
2. who can't play the piano think they can because they can plink out "Heart and Soul"
3. push horrible music onto me in hopes that I will like it
4. assume that working at a convenience store or having tattoos makes me uneducated
5. say that my lack of fashion sense is a "gay fail"
6. are overly cheerful
7. deny the greatness of Beethoven
8. buy lottery tickets and blame me when they don't win
9. dress teddy bears in sweaters, those things are hideous
10. give me said teddy bears for Christmas

My name is Schroeder. It is not simply what I prefer to be called but it is my full, legal name. I enjoy the way it sounds, almost regal like the great composers centuries ago. I like the way it looks when written across a page, as if the only proper way to do so is in flowing calligraphy with its appropriate pen. Unfortunately at the moment I'm left with only ball-point pens and poor handwriting.

When I was younger, my name only partially consisted of that which I identified. I was born Jonathan Keith Schroeder. When I was too young to name myself I was called Jonathan by my parents. There was no reason why they shouldn't have, it was my name. The problem was that I wasn't a Jonathan and never had been. The name was ordinary, belonging to someone who allowed themselves to be confined by circumstance. It was the name associated with the child who shirked away from other children, preferring to play by himself than be intimidated by the much bigger boys around him. It was the name of weak will and confusion. Jonathan ceased to be a name and devolved into a term of derision. I have always been different, but where I saw brilliance others saw the loner, the freak. That was Jonathan, three syllables best said in a careless sing-song. Jon-a-than.

Upon turning eighteen I was able to change my name and I did so as soon as possible. With a single sheet of paper I left behind the part of me of which I was ashamed. I wanted to be proud of everything I was and am. On my eighteenth birthday I shed my meekness. I understand that I have changed, but I don't think that it is always a bad thing. For me, change was necessary.

In the United States the age eighteen is seen as a landmark age, but at times it is ceremonial at best. Only one day separates eighteen from seventeen and three hundred and sixty four days. I wouldn't go so far and so cheesy as to say I became a man, but I did grow up when I decided to alter my name. I embraced what made me different. Jonathan was less than nothing. Schroeder is a genius, an artist and maybe even that freak. I know I'm not without faults, but they're mine, and I have friends who accept them, a partner who stays with me despite them. I have fantastic people in my life, of whom I am exceptionally thankful. I have never been a loner to them. To them, I have always been Schroeder.

Schroeder took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Is extremely determined to make his presence known..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

Excerpt from the color quiz: Self-centered, tends to take things personally and is easily offended. Emotionally withdrawn, feels forced to make compromises which makes emotional attachments difficult. Feels trapped in a helpless situation and is desperately seeking relief. He is able to find pleasure and happiness in sexual activity.

Believes his hopes and dreams are realistic and sticks to them stubbornly, even though circumstances are forcing him to compromise. Very precise in the qualities he seeks in a partner. Is extremely determined to make his presence known as an important part of any team. He is flexible and able to do what is necessary to stand out from the crowd. Is willing to overcome any conflicts and difficulties that may stand in his way. Works toward building his position and increasing his self-esteem by viewing his accomplishments (and those of others) critically and harsh judgment. Insists on things being straightforward and clear.

In case any of the Peanuts players are interested, I found some icon batches I wanted to share. The Sally ones are especially good I think.

here and here

December 25, 2008 - this is an open rp so anyone who wants to drop in can, just keep in mind that it would be last Christmas.

Schroeder slumped against the cashier's counter of the Fill-up Mart, resting his elbows on the hard plastic and playing with a losing scratch off Lotto ticket in his hands. He didn't think much of the lottery and thought of it as a tax on people who didn't understand math, but today he had bought one for himself, just to see. For a fleeting moment he wondered what it would be like to experience the thrill of learning that you had instantly won a large sum of money. Knowing that it was unlikely to happen, he took a penny from the give/take a penny tray and scratched, watching the flecks of silver bounce off the coin.

The fact that it wasn't a winning ticket didn't surprise him. Not much did. He stared blankly ahead at the annoyingly cheerful inflatable snowman swaying in the center of the store, dressed in the garish primary colors meant to attract children. He wished that he could turn off the tinny wail of Christmas music from the small speakers overhead, but as the head manager had locked the control panel in the back he resolved to being stuck with hearing five different versions of Jingle Bell Rock twice an hour.

He didn't mind being alone of Christmas. Working on a holiday meant that he got paid doubly, and even though they had to stay open, no one was likely to come to the store on Christmas. That meant little to no annoying customers.

Glancing around the room, he surveyed the rest of the decorations for what felt like the 100th time today alone. The snowman stood next to a fully decorated Christmas tree with empty wrapped boxes placed under it, icicle lights ran across the tops of the walls, paper snowflakes hung from the ceiling, and on the refrigerator doors which housed the drinks, one felt stocking for each employee lay taped against the glass. He knew they were there for display purposes only, but Schroeder halfway wished that the one with his name on it would have something dropped inside.

It was a wish as futile as the lottery ticket.

As if you are interested, which I doubt, I am going to write what I am currently up to in list form.

1. Rerun is making tremendous progress with his project. I have been checking on him to make sure he bathes and eats. I've discovered that contrary to what one might think, he gets more work done after I spend the night.

2. No show tonight. The Orange Iguana has been doing some renovations. I'm not sure how long it will last. I hope I can find other gigs in the meantime.

3. James' album is dropping soon, I did keyboards and piano on a few tracks. Best of luck to him. I hope the general public knows good music when they hear it.

4. I am determined to get Charlie a date. If it happens with Ruby, Sally has offered me Pop Tarts. Anyone reading this knows where my affinity lies when it comes to Pop Tarts.

5. Linus finally got off his butt and proposed to Sally. I'm very happy for both of them. I'm to be a groomsman at the wedding and am beyond flattered. Although I must say that I should be consulted before making any final decisions regarding reception music. I will not allow this wedding to be ruined by atrocious assailants to the ears. And no, I will not play. If Rerun is going to be in a tux I am most definitely spending my time with him rather than a piano.

6. The suit was dropped. I knew it was too stupid to last.

Schroeder wiped his forehead as he descended the steps of the stage onto the level ground below. As he walked through the crowd, various audience members gravitated his way to clap him on the back or congratulate him on a good show. These actions resulted in flinches and grunts, though when he remembered he tried to make the grunts sound grateful. Schroeder never did very well out of his element, and once he had left the stage, that's exactly where he was. This was Washington DC, a city he wasn't familiar with at all save for the prerequisite historical facts, but the Ludwigs had been asked to play for a very generous sum of money. For the chance of exposure, money, and the opportunity to perform his craft to a new audience, there was no way Schroeder or his bandmates were going to turn down the offer.

The venue was little more than a pit with a stage and a bar to the side. The backstage area being nothing more than one stuffy and cramped room, Schroeder headed toward the bar to get himself something to drink. He hopped up onto a barstool and asked for water, which earned him a quizzical look from the bartender who served the request anyway. As he lifted the plastic cup to his lips, Schroeder rolled his eyes. Of course he needed hydration, it was stupid to imply that he didn't. Most of the people who had come seemed to be filtering out by now. He hoped that he wouldn't have to make too much more awkward conversation.

Schroeder couldn't believe it. Seven years of harassing people from behind a counter never landed him in this position. Neither did making his opinion a little too well known at times. No, it was his passion for music, something he never thought would land him in trouble that lead him to this position. He frowned as he read the letter in front of him.

Dear Mr. Shroeder,
It has come to my attention that you are using a certain ancestor's likeness and popularity to gain notoriety for your band. At present, the band is called The Ludwigs, prints t-shirts with a portrait of Ludwig van Beethoven in the center, and have a number of songs alluding to his compositions, most notably, one entitled "The Fourth Movement". While there is no copyright for music published before 1923, what you have done is go far beyond copyright infringement. You are using someone else's name and work for you own benefit and it must stop. You are hereby being sued. I am leaving the contact information of my lawyer for yours.
Sincerely,
Mariella Beethoven

This was completely ridiculous. She may not even be an heir. The only child Beethoven had was a nephew he gained custody of. He knew the copyright law mentioned as well and was certain to look it up before proceeding to write his songs. He had assumed that it extended to the name and pictures as well, but he couldn't be sure.

What he did know was that he needed a lawyer. He wasn't familiar with any of the local firms, but he did know of one that was supposed to be very good. Of course, they were most likely well out of his price range, but it didn't hurt to try. Besides, he deserved the best.

After looking up the number online, he dialed Chang, Poole, and Schmidt and waited.

I realize that as a gay man my fashion sense is not up to par and I should be the last person to judge. However, I'm going to be a hypocrite and do so anyway. Do these not look like retirement home shoes?

And for those of you wondering, "cranky pants" isn't much of an insult. Sorry.

One week into the relationship and promises are already broken. This does not bode well.

EDIT: Post was made prematurely. Pay no attention to the man behind the livejournal.