2 September

I Am Not Your Googler!

I am having a rather upsetting day.  Actually my day was fine until I received an email letting me know how much I was getting for those three weeks of translating/subtitling work I did last month.  Between the amount of time I spent at that place and what I'm receiving, it was as if I were making $12.55 an hour.  I thought I was going to vomit in horror at the pittance they were throwing at me.  I'll be receiving what I make in a week doing temp work.  I am very, very angry.  Had I been told what some of those rates were prior to the projects, I would have refused.  Plus, I've been waiting two weeks to hear from them regarding some potential future work.  I feel like I'm being let on.  And because I enjoy doing those projects more than temping, I turn down temp work in hopes of doing those projects.  But this is madness and I sent an email back explaining as much.  I feel stupid and angry and annoyed and used.  And I'm sick of it.

I also feel incredibly guilty, because I failed to finish writing and post Part 3 of "Tiny Black Holes" last night.  I will be doing that as soon as I'm done writing this.  I just need a temporary stage to vent upon.

Wednesday was spent walking up and down Melrose, checking out weird stores.  My favorite was Necromance.  We were walking by a rather dingy looking display window and realized it was full of various animals that had been stuffed.  We walked into a very strange store.  It looked like a natural history museum.  There was beautiful classical music playing.  The woman behind the counter was young, full of tatoos and had dyed black hair.  I was amazed by all the dead things you could buy.  There were turtle shells, dried bats, scorpion lollipops, bones, teeth, ermines, fox furs, things in jars, ancient postcards (some filled in), insect bracelets and rings, etc...  So many wondrous things to poke and prod.  We were there for the better part of an hour just looking everything over.  Erika bought these really cool silver earrings shaped into deer heads, as well as a dried porcupine fish with googly eyes.  It was really incredible.  I realized then and there that I would one day decorate my office with this kind of strange stuff.  It had a timeless quality to it, it fascinates me that we would ever kill an animal to stuff it into "natural" positions. 

Then we went into all sorts of vintage stores and other type stores.  We chilled out in front of someone's foot steps, waiting for this bar to open up.  We had a late lunch and walked back home.  There, I took a brief nap, wrapped a gift, and we were on our way to Mommie Dearest's.

It was my stepfather's birthday and they were throwing a dinner.  It was an okay evening.  Whatever...  We got him this glass from Urban Outfitters that said: Fuck Off, it's my birthday.  Lame, I know.  I'm broke, fuck you.  I usually get him a nice half-zip sweater from Banana Republic, which he loves.  And that shit ain't cheap, even when I did get a discount.  Who cares.

Erika had lunch with her friend.  Then we went to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery.  I took many pictures of random things, such as peacocks and ducks and tombstones and a turtle that was following me around.  Fun times.  Then we dropped Erika off at LAX.  It was a fun week and I'll miss her.  It was great to have an audience for my jokes who was just as clever at returning them.  And what a great guest to have.  No complaints, totally flexible and honest with what she wanted to do around town.  I feel so bad we only got her to one show.  Damn my lack of monetary means.  Damn it all!

After LAX, we went to Mommie Dearest's to swim.  Orane had a throng of five-year olds vying for her attention and approval.  They kept on saying her name wrong to her greatest discontent.  "A-ran! A-ran! I burped three times without saying excuse me.  Is that funny?"  "A-ran! A-ran! Wasn't it funny when I was pretending this was a hula hoop like two minutes ago?"  So weird.  Then her school was having some sort of Welcome New Students BBQ.  So we had dry burgers and then went home.  She tried very hard to get us to invite her over for the night, weekend or next month.  But we said no.  We have much to do tonight, writing-wise. 

So, we arrived home and my spirits were low with the whole stress from the funds, plus I think I was around way too much death and horror this past week, and the fact that Erika's gone too.  I opened up the mail box and the most amazing thing arrived.  My Venture Bros. t-shirt!!! I've been wearing it since.  I bought this one:

It fits a little tight, but it's pretty awesome.  My mood went up a little.  Oddly enough, I haven't had to go to court all week for Jury Duty.  Every night I call, I expect I'd have to go, maybe tomorrow... 

 

29 August

Or Kill Yourself I wrote a rather long blog entry the other day, but then it all disappeared and I became very angry.  So, I let it all go for a few more days. Recap, motherfuckers! Thursday night, ate dinner at a mall diner with Mommie Dearest & Co.  They were exhausted from the jet lag and the little one clung to me the entire time; at the table, walking to and fro, at the house.  It was a little creepy.  Then we went off to LAX to pick up Erika.  We passed her, unsure if it was her, because she was standing on the wrong side and all we saw was her back.  So we had to go around again to pick her up.  Friday, I got to work late, then Erika and Rick came by Disney Studios for lunch.  It lasted over two hours.  We walked around on our own studio tour.  Then I left work early.  No one noticed or cared at that office.  Lovely.  Erika decided to come with me to the Feel Good Film Festival.  The person organizing us looked at us and decided that we would do clean-up for the first three hours.  She went off to get us gloves.  We went to the restroom, then escaped the side door.  You see, I didn't sign up for clean-up, and generally those kind of events don't ask volunteers to do so.  The theater manager did not want to see me go, because he knows I could've been an asset to that disorganized bunch.  Too bad.  I don't do clean-up for free, motherfuckers.  So Erika and I walked around Hollywood, then we all went home and played on the Wii like nerds, not realizing we were missing an orgy in the Pacific Palisades.  What???  Read on. Saturday we went to see "Tropic Thunder" at the TV Academy.  Hilarious film...  If you work in the film industry.  Hello! It's a film about making a film, so right there, you've alienated most of your intended audience.  Because in the end, even if they go into the jungle, all the jokes revolve around acting and the such.  When will Hollywood learn, nearly every film about filmmaking, no matter how good the story, characters, etc...  will never be as successful as it would be had it not been about filmmaking.  So, they spent nearly $100 million and the first weekend it only made about $26 million.  Compare that to "Pineapple Express" which cost $25 milion and made about that same amount its opening weekend.  Just sayin'...  Speaking of which, I still need to see that film. After the movie, we headed to Jen's b-day party and stayed well into the night.  Lots of fun, despite the oily pool.  Why is it oily?  Actually, I don't want to know.  Plus, Jen brought back her brother's cat from Chicago and I had fun with the kitty.  Her name is Figaro, she's all black and meows for everything.  At first, I thought she was complaining, but then I realized she was asking to be pet and played with.  Silly cat.  Yes, it's true, I'd rather spend hours with a cat, then endure a shitty conversation with an idiot.  Speaking of which, there was this rather obnoxious girl there.  She was trying to get with every guy and make friends.  Her desperation was far too noticeable though and every one kind of backed off.  She'd agree with everything you'd say and then add her two cents, even if it was contradictory.  The funniest part was when she made this big stink about not having a television and how much smarter she's gotten since watching tv, and how she reads SO much more.  I was like, wow, I still manage to read and watch tv...  Later she tells us all how much Rock Band she plays with her roommate.  This is a game that requires a television, and I said, Oh I thought you didn't have a television at your apartment...  What else?  She writes teen comedies, but has never polished one enough to even try to sell it.  Then she talked about how her roommate who's a writer's assistant on "Dirty Sexy Money" steals her ideas all the time.  Then she adds that it's okay, because she knows she wrote it.  I couldn't tell if she was trying to brag or complain.  Frankly, there's nothing to be proud of.  "Dirty Sexy Money" is a shitty show, and if you're good at something, you shouldn't accept doing it for free. Anywho, moving on.  Sunday, we went to El Matador beach in Malibu.  I had a mediocre time.  The tide was coming in and there was less and less beach to speak of as the afternoon went on.  We had to move back towards the bees.  I stepped on a broken shell and cut my foot.  Erika and I took some pics, while Rick played with his boogie board like a little kid.  At least he didn't get burned this time.  Then we headed to Helen's thing.  She was house sitting for her boss, and so, had invited people to come by during the weekend to hang out.  It was a nice house with an incredible pool.  It felt so great after the beach.  I felt so rude, but I totally went straight into the pool and ignored the people there.  I was like a little kid.  Helen had an ex-coworker friend there, with her boyfriend, and later another friend came by.  After staying into the pool until the stars came out, we sat around and talked.  Then we all went into the TV room and watched the closing ceremonies of the Olympics, to my disgust.  I mentioned how I really don't think they should've done the Olympics in Beijing and that started a shit storm.  This third friend that came later started saying some really wild stuff and I was so shocked that I couldn't help answering back, because I just could not comprehend how someone could believe such things.  She was saying that Chinese people have a choice, they can either deal with being communist, or kill themselves.  I walked out.  "To use the bathroom".  I never came back into that room.  The absent owners had two cats and two dogs.  Those four pets were the most well-trained animals in the world, so chill, it was creepy.  I hung out with one of the cats until Rick and Erika were ready to go.  That night, in my deepest of REM cycles, I was pulled out of my slumber by a scream.  Our bedroom window is kept open and I heard a woman scream RAPE and HELP.  It sounded sincere.  I was scared out of my mind, and yet, so exhausted, that I couldn't myself to reach for the phone.  I then persuaded myself that my cell was in the other room and turned off.  Which it wasn't.  It was at arm's length and on.  And I tried to wake up enough, but couldn't.  I succumbed to the darkness as the screams became muffled and eventually stopped.  There was another scream a few minutes later.  And then the cops.  Maybe.  Perhaps I only imagined it, so that I wouldn't feel guilty...  The shock of it came full blast in the morning and I haven't felt this awful of a human being for not doing anything in a long, long time. We never heard back from the Chelsea Lately audience people.  We wanted to attend on Monday, but...  So instead, we went to the California Science Center to check out the Bodyworks exhibit.  It's the one with the plastinate bodies in all sorts of poses, created by some German doctor.  Anywho, it was disgusting.  I've never so many anuses.  A woman fainted and they swiftly brought a form for her to sign, so that she wouldn't sue the museum.  Yep.  The rest of the museum was rather lame.  Then again, it's free entry.  Still... Then Erika and I strolled around downtown.  We took tons of weird pics and visited one of those Mexican stores that sell potions and saint candles, a bit voodoo really.  They sold bat eyes and other fun things.  Then we went to Hollywood, checked out the docuweek schedule at the Arclight, went by the yoga place with the vegan cafe, unfortunately they had stopped making sandwiches.  So we walked to a grocery store, bought bread and the such, and made sandwiches at home.  We watched a couple episodes of "Project Runway" which is really uninteresting this season.  I don't like any of these people.  Then "No Reservations" which was even worse than we had imagined.  However, our personal quips to it were very entertaining.  Erika was waiting on a friend who had gone to see Radiohead at the Hollywood Bowl, but of course she got stuck in the whole parking bullshit for over an hour.  So by the time she would've been able to go to the bar, it was too late.  So that sucked. I think that's basically it.  I'm just thrilled to have been able to chill with some cool cats and swim in one of the coolest pools ever.  Describing it wouldn't do it justice, so I won't even try.

 

21 August

The IncidAnt

The night before last, rather exhausted from finishing up the cleaning in Culver City, I fell fast asleep.  In the midst of my dream investigation, a voice said: "Turn on the light!" To which I responded in my dream, don't you mean turn off the light?  They were on in the dream.  The voice repeated its request with more urgency, only puzzling me more.  Eventually I realized that it wasn't coming from within the dream, but it was a real live request, as the light is on my night stand.  I opened my eyes in pitch dark and struggled to find the switch, but eventually turned it on.

The Sunday previous, Rick had decided to go to the beach alone.  He came back totally burned.  Our stock of Aloe Vera/Lidocaine being low, he bought another bottle of it, but of another brand.  Since his whole upper body and legs were red, we were just spreading tons of it on.  Well, apparently, the ants were loving it, because when I turned on the lights, there were about 20 of them all over him.  And another 20 were dispersed in a rather straight line on his side of the bed.  Of course, he freaked out and immediately took a shower to wash off the residue, then sprayed the hell out of our bedroom, meaning we had to unfold the couch and sleep in the living room.  Which really sucks, because it's not as dark as the bedroom and I can't stand too much light.

So, yesterday, Rick again sprayed the fuck out of our bedroom and washed all the linen.  It smelled awful.  I hate that ant spray.  Plus, I hate killing ants.  Rick thinks they're gross, I rather respect them.  They're the most socially complex animals after humans.  Are insects considered animals?  I don't care. 

Tuesday afternoon, finally annoyed that I had no work to do, someone gave me some busy work.  I was thrilled.  Seriously, no joke.  Unfortunately, I finished it in no time flat.  Luckily, this inspired someone else to give me a project on Wednesday.  I literally spent all day perfecting the fuck out of it, but in the end, I finished it.  Meaning, I've got a whole lot of nothing to do today.  I spent my morning creating a document for future temps.  This department isn't in the habit of getting temps, a trend which the admins are attempting to reverse.  Hence, why I'm here.  So it's to their benefit if it looks like I'm working, otherwise the boss people will be like hey, we got you a temp and she had nothing to do, so we won't get you one in the future.  Trust me, they don't need one.  Anywho, what I'm saying is this, since they're not used to having temps, they don't know what kind of info to give them.  I figured I might as well inform.

And now that I'm done, the only thing I have to look forward to this work day is meeting up with Gus at the Starbucks on the lot at 3.  We have a potential writing project to discuss.  Gus is an incredibly talented writer.  His scripts are very well laid out, simple, yet visual.  Very good stuff.

Tonight, back to Culver City.  Mommie Dearest and the gang arrived last night at LAX.  They took a taxi home and she forgot her purse in it.  So they went back to LAX looking for the taxi.  Amazingly enough, not only did they find him, but the purse was still there.  You know, 15 hours of travel and no sleep really fucks with your head.  I hate the term raw emotions, but it fits for those circumstances.  The worst part is when you arrive and people are all happy and excited to see you, and you're so fucking tired and angry from the travel, that you're unable to reciprocate properly. 

Last night, after work, I attended a volunteer meeting for the Feel Good Film Festival which is happening this weekend at the Egyptian Theater.  It's not associated with the American Cinematheque, they're just rentind the space.  This is their first year and I don't think they've got a good handle on the whole volunteering aspect of it yet.  I'm only going to help out during Opening Night.  I don't think I'm going to see any of the films or anything.  I just need to feel productive every now and then, cause this temp job sure ain't doin' it.  What's funny is how idiotic the premise of this festival is.  Feel Good?  Uplifting?  Ugh.  You should see the organizers, they look like grad students with ideals, with a hint of hippy happiness thrown in.  And yes, of course, inevitably, they're all women.  The food provided will be of the vegetarian/organic persuasion.

There's nothing like volunteering, because you can bitch all you want about the event without any real repercussions.  There's no money involved, so if you really don't like it, you can get the fuck out of there.  Plus, you can get mad at everyone, and because of the stress, it won't really be noticeable.  On peut se defouler emotionnellement.

 

 

19 August

Do you want to end up like Gary Busey?

Yesterday was Mommie Dearest's 46th birthday.  In two months and a day, it will be my 26th.  Time marches on.

Thursday, we ran errands, and then I realized I had forgotten my cell phone at home, so if I had gotten a call about some temp work, I would have lost it.  But luck was on my side, because after a good two hours of buying food and other necessities, I returned home about two minutes prior to said call.  I worked on Friday and all this week.  I had to postpone my jury duty to next week.  What an exciting life.  Yet again, my temping is completely pointless.  I'm not even an answering machine, because the phones just aren't ringing.  I'm here to assist someone's who's on vacation and someone who's self-sufficient.  The one task I had has been cancelled.  For the love of gravy.

So, instead, I'll seriously be focusing on writing.  I'm super serial, you guys.

Fuck, we've past the middle of August.  Christmas advertising is almost upon us.  Speaking of advertising, I've become totally enchanted with the "Fringe" campaign.  I actually want to see this show on Fox, fully knowing it'll probably suck.

Saturday, I had two plans, both failed.  Since I hadn't heard back from Quentin, I assumed the BBQ dinner was off.  Instead, I was going to support Jim and see his feature at the Egyptian.  Then I was going to maybe go to Bar Sinister for their 10th anniversary and check out the goth scene, for shits and giggles.  It's like half a block from the Egyptian, why not?  But then, Quentin did call, so I scrapped the movie and the bar and went to Culver City to prep the dinner.  I tried grilling some veggies, but they burned bad.  I guess when the recipe says leave them on there for 40 minutes, you shouldn't forget them and leave it on the grill for over an hour...  The more you know.  Quentin brought his girl Rachel, their friend Mike and an actress whose name escapes me.  It was a fun dinner, methinks.  Chicken and beer.  What more can one ask for?

That night, I slept rather poorly.  I can't stand the pillows at that house.  They're way too soft.  Plus, the mornings are bright with sunshine and it makes for nightmares.  I dreamt of ghost monsters and lights going out and scary basements.  Yet, at no point did I think escaping the house would be a good idea.  Go figure.  With heavy lids, I went swimming, took a shower, and started cleaning the house.  We cleaned the towels, all the sheets, the kitchen, the dishes...  And still, we're not done.  After work, we're going back with our camera to replace everything as it was.  I kid you not.  We took pictures of every room, to be sure it would be the same.  I'm not looking forward to it.

Rick decided to go to the beach alone, and in the process, lost his sunglasses to the ocean and came back looking like something left in the oven too long.  His skin is completely red nearly everywhere.  I fear he may get Lidocaine poisoning from all the Aloe Vera I've had to put on his skin. 

"The Venture Bros." finale part 1 was amazing.  I cannot wait until next week.  And I also can't wait to get my Order of the Triad t-shirt.  It will be the coolest thing in my closet.  I hope it fits right.  

Ever since abandoning dairy and most meat, I've felt lighter.  Although the Green Machine I ingested this morning felt too much like a cleanser.  I'm not promoting not eating dairy, I'm just saying it feels nice to eat less every now and again.  I'm still eating some butter though and definitely baked goods.  Whatever.  

 

13 August

Maybe Ringo Ate Your Baby

I finally did watch one of the Netflix DVDs.  "A Cry in the Dark" was poorly made, yet Meryl Streep was perfect for that role.  Those Aussies are a hoot.  Between the HBO doc "Ganja Queen" and this film, I find the similarity of the Australian population's emotional turn around on the alleged victims, rather disturbing.  I'll have to ask Bruce about it.

At Mommie Dearest's, I found a book called "Skinny Bitch" and I read it through and through.  Intrigued by its pedantic NY Times Bestseller type title, I was somewhat surprised to find out it was a nutritional guideline book.  Or so I thought.  Turns out it was one of those "be a vegetarian or go to hell" books.  It went on and on about the cruelty towards animals and the disgusting lack of standards in this country when it comes to meat packaging.  What disturbed me the most was the bit on milk.  They raised some interesting points, which I won't soon forget, but in the end, I decided that being a vegetarian is rather uncivilized.  It sounds lovely to live off of fruit, but we don't live on islands, separated from the world.  There are so many great foods out there made of dairy and meat, I just can't give that up.  Besides, I hail from the French Alps.  We eat fondues and raclettes and saucisson.  So, I decided to perhaps lay low on American milk and meat for a while, just because there's a horrible lack of accountability, but that European and Australian meats and dairy were a-okay. 

I had some fun today in my 9.5 hours at Vitac.  I timed two corporate videos in Spanish about refrigerators.  And then I also worked on yet another one of those despicable Christian shows.  It's really bizarre how pro-Israel and anti-Palestinian they are.  And they quote all this shit from the Bible, like Joel 3:2, "I will enter into judgment with them [all the nations who]…have divided up My Land."  What is it about the Middle East that inspires so much conflict?  Of course, as my World History teacher would say, it wasn't all bad.  If you compare the ancient Egyptians with their counterparts to the East, they were behind.  For the clashes of cultures brought a great stew of ideas and progress.  Peace doesn't promote progress.  That is fucked up.  I want to know why Christians want Jews to be Jesus lovers so badly.

Speaking of random Christian things, my stepfather's car adorned a Jesus fish up until a few days ago.  I decided to remove it.  It was there since he bought that used car like two years ago and he never took it off, despite being atheist himself.  Frankly, it's always annoyed me.  So, we're going to go get a Darwin fish and glue that on instead and see how long it'll take for him to notice the switch.  If he ever asks, we can just say that his fish must have evolved...

 

 

11 August

Not the Bees!

The night before last, I dreamt of him.  I had had a visiting though the previous afternoon.  I don't recall what had sparked the memory of his face, but it apparently was enough to trigger a full blown dream.  I can't quite recall specifics, but we accidentally met at a restaurant and talked and I asked all the questions I have always wanted to ask him.  And of course, I can't remember anything answered.  I'm rather annoyed that he still manages to occupy such space in the reaches of my mind.  Frankly, it's all so pointless.  Maybe the fact that I find myself less and less attracted to people, makes those that have been attractive that much more important.  On the drive back, I listened to a song that for some unknown reason flooded my heart with our interactions and it almost made me sad. 

So yesterday, we went off to the Paramount Ranch for a delicious Russian picnic.  Unfortunately, the food was totally covered in bees.  And it was freaking me out.  No one got stung, but still, I didn't like it when I would try to take a bite of something and a bee would fly right by my mouth.  So I barely ate any of the delicious meats and sat in the shade, enjoying the nature.  Then we walked around the Western Town, which used to be a popular Western set.  HBO's Carnivale shot there.  Anywho, we located the outdoor craft services area, which was empty, but nice to sit around.  There, we encountered a sort of squirrel-like animal.  It had a stockier body, a thinner tail, and grey with dark spots on its back.  It kept on looking at us, wondering if we'd give it food or not.  It would parade from one end of the table to the other.  All we had was water, but he didn't care for it.  Later a small dog started barking at it and he ran back into his immense barnyard haven.  He would make these high pitched sounds at the dog.  Anywho, the bees reminded me of this:

We went back home, swam for a while and then I just passed out on the bed.  I slept for two hours.  We gathered all our stuff from Culver City, we had spent Saturday cleaning all our sheets, pillows, covers, as well as washing their cars.  And went home.  The Olympics are so boring.  I hate the coverage done here.  Very uninteresting. 

 

 

8 August

 

 

5 August

I Wanna Bust That Body

Why so [insert adjective]? <= How annoying is that getting?

This week has been long and angry.  Plus, I've been doing translation work nearly every day, which has felt like a somewhat satisfying surrogate to actual writing.  The anger though stems from Rick's dad who has been complaining about everything like a geezer.  He's not that old though.  It's getting on my last nerve, so I've been avoiding interaction these past few days, preferring temporary solitude at home today than going to the beach.  

The Friday before last sucked.  I was forced to spend my day inhaling toxic fumes.  Rick went into OCD mode and decided he wanted to have a cleaner living space than his mother.  Ultimately, I don't think anyone noticed.  It was nice to get that shower cleaned up though.  I found all sorts of random cleaning products under the bathroom sink that I don't recall ever buying.  So after all of that, we rushed to Culver City to basically do the same thing.  I had to clean sheets and make beds, then make dinner.  I felt like I was running a B & B.  Then again, since I had gotten no work that week, it was good to feel productive.  Rick failed to change the oil on the Jeep and went out to pick up his parents at the airport.  Uneventful dinner, except that I'd never used a convection oven before and slightly burned the croque-monsieurs.  They were still delicious, so…  Rick and his dad worked on the cars in the garage.  I didn't know what to say to his mom.  You see, there's no television or internet at that house, so entertainment is limited to drinking and conversing, which, depending on who you're with, can be an amazing experience or awkward as fuck.

Saturday morning, woke up bright and early.  We packed into the Jeep, picked up Bruce in Long Beach, and drove to San Diego for Comic-Con.  Rick's parents took the Jeep and went to the zoo.  Bruce, Rick and I had never gone to this event before and were completely stunned with the media overload.  Since I was expecting the insane crowds, I didn't get anxious at the slow-moving masses.  I knew it would be big, but this was just crazy.  We grabbed as much free crap as possible and after 8 hours got the hell out of there.  Rick and I managed to see one and a half panels.  We caught the end of "Terminator Salvation" which looks terrible.  McG was insane too.  He looked like a little cocaine monkey trying to build excitement in what was clearly an unnecessary film.  He was trying to convince us all that the film was diverse and that in the future, all the races bond together to fight a common enemy.  Uh-huh.  So, only through violence can we shed our racial profiling?  The highlight of the day was watching the Disney Pixar presentation.  They showed 20 minutes of "Bolt" which I'm slowly turning around on.  And Pixar showed a few scenes of "Up".  The script flooded back to my mind and I started bawling because it's so sentimental.  Oh man, it was fucked up.  What else…  Rick and I had a really good lunch at an Indian restaurant.  And we randomly met up with Jen and Josh for about a half hour.  Good times.  Also to mention, miraculously enough we avoided traffic going and coming back.  It was a Christmas miracle, I tell you.  

Sunday, I suggested we visit Hollywood & Highland.  The place was crawling with foreign tourists, it was loud, it was annoying, and we couldn't wait to get the hell out of there.  We ate at Mel's Diner, which is just never a good idea.  I've only been there twice before and had never had a good memory of it.  We were completely ignored by the staff and the food was mediocre.  Pretty lame lunch.  I don't recall the rest of the day, I'm sure it wasn't interesting in the least.

Monday, I worked all day.  Hurray! I timed and retranslated intertitles for a 3-hour silent film from 1919.  It was very anti-war, you know, the Big War.  Never again! Ha.  Good stuff.  Then Rick and his parents picked me up and Rick had the brilliant idea to go eat at Caioti.  It's this rather neat little pizzeria in the valley.  They serve bison meat.  Fun times.  Well, it would've been had Rick's dad not been annoyed by everything and anything.  I attempted to start conversations, but gave up after 15 minutes.  These people just don't converse.  Rick didn't help at all.  The silence started stressing me out and I barely enjoyed the rather good food in front of me.  Plus, I kept on hounding the waiter with my stare to speed up the process, because I wanted to leave.  He probably thought I was some sort of impatient bitch.  It was busy, but I felt we were well taken care of.  

Anywho, I got to go home alone, Rick drove back to Culver City with them and stayed there.  Good peace and quiet.  The next morning, I took a bus and the subway to get to the translating place.  I checked over some CDC avian flu report.  It was gross and a little bit frightening.  Afterwards, I had gotten some reservations at the Magic Castle.  So that was interesting…  Magicians in every dark corner.  We had a somewhat decent dinner, albeit mostly silent.  I just focused on my plate of salmon.  We caught four shows plus some side attractions.  Fun times.  Overpriced?  Somewhat, but not as bad as some people complain on reviews.

Wednesday, I went back to translate during the afternoon.  I started working on a Christian show.  Ugh.  That's all I have to say.  So much superstition and weird notions about Israel.  The week's work was getting progressively worse.  Later, we went up to the Griffith Park Observatory.  I got to see Jupiter from two different telescopes.  I wish I knew more about the celestial bodies.  The LA skies cleared up enough to show some twenty stars.  I kept on thinking about the time I laid down on the roof in the French Alps one summer and just stared at the millions of stars coming through so clearly and beautifully.  I could tell satellites apart from the stars, it was incredible.  Anywho, after the observatory, Rick decided it would be a good idea to get a hot dog at Pink's.  Fuck that place.  The line wasn't terrible, relatively speaking.  I was cold and couldn't stand standing forever, so I proposed to get a table and maybe we could alternate the person waiting in line.  Nobody seemed enthusiastic, so I just went and sat down by myself.  It took them an hour to get through that stupid line.  For a fucking overpriced hot dog! Come on.  I was not thrilled.

Thursday.  I had been waiting for an email back from this woman at Jimmy Kimmel Live, but apparently she wasn't in.  So I had to call her office to find out when we were supposed to show up.  I had gotten some stupid VIP Audience pass months ago and figured Rick's parents might want to go.  Ugh.  We waited like 45 minutes in line and then were yelled at like cattle.  Plus, Jimmy Kimmel isn't funny.  The guest was Mariah Carey whom I've never cared very much for.  She was boring.  We decided to skip her concert.  So lame.  I was sitting there the entire time thinking, I don't belong here, I shouldn't be here right now.  I had this horrible feeling like I was missing something important somewhere else.  Dreadful.  We all came back to the apartment and ordered some Village Pizzeria pizza.  It was good, plus I put on the stupidest thing I could find on TV, so that the silence would seem normal.  So we watched "License to Wed".  Oh man…  I remember reading that shit script a few years ago, when I interned at a literary management company.  They repped the writer.  Monday mornings, we'd meet up and everyone would discuss the scripts they'd read.  So, I flat out said I thought it sucked.  Then I learned something.  It didn't matter.  It was high concept and would sell to a studio, which it did.  I also learned that Robin Williams is not Jewish.  For some reason, I had it stuck in my mind that he was Jewish, so when they brought up potential actors for the priest and mentioned him, I said, isn't he Jewish?  Good times.  Anyway, the movie bombed.  It cost $35 mil and made $43,7 mil domestic ($26,8 mil foreign).  The budget doesn't include the marketing, which was probably something like $15 mil.  Blecch.

Friday, I went back to finish subtitling that Inspiration show.  It took forever.  So annoying, I was looking up Bible quotes all day.  And then about ten subtitles away from being completely done timing it, the software crashed.  And although I'd been saving all evening, only about half was saved.  I was so annoyed.  It was 10pm and I had all of three cookies the entire day.  I was like, fuck that, and left.  I got a call from Rachel and we went and picked up our pie dish that's been at her place since Memorial weekend.  Very exciting evening.  I got home, drank a beer and stared at the television trying to wipe out any brain activity.  

I vaguely remembered promising I'd go by the Egyptian to pull out some posters today, but haven't had the heart to go yet.  I'm rather enjoying doing nothing at all.  Originally, I was going to catch up on writing.  So far, I've only been able to catch up on the ole blog.  Caffeine withdrawal started hitting me a couple of hours ago and completely stole away any natural energy I had left.  Meh.

 

 

24 July

It’s Knight, not Night

My Arclight connection was gracious enough to get me into a screening of "The Dark Knight" last night.  Unfortunately, the theater was rather full and my seat ended up being not so good.  Since it's the Arclight, it's still WAY better than a "good" seat at a regular theater.  I sat all the way on the left, fourth row from the front.  Either my back or my neck would be strained, but once the film began, I just didn't care.  I loved the fucking movie.  It was amazing.  I've heard people complain that it's too long.  Really?  I didn't think it was possible to be so energized for such a long stretch of time.  The editing is brilliant.  And frankly, I haven't been this scared by a film in a very long time.  I can't even believe how scared of the Joker I was until I had nightmares of him all night.  In my dreams, the Joker kept on winning, finding more ways to wreak havoc upon Gotham.  They were the kind of dreams where I'm not in them, just watching like an audience member.  I'd wake up afraid I'd plunge right back into that darkness, but couldn't stop myself from falling asleep.  Just brutal.

Also brutal, Monday night's premiere of "Mad Men".  So fucking lame.  First of all, we got horrendous seats, how horrendous?  First row, Center.  At the Egyptian, you can't get a worse seat.  So we refused to watch the episodes.  Secondly, we didn't get after-party tickets, which was to be at Musso & Frank's.  We didn't try really hard either though.  But we were annoyed by the seats anyway.  And lastly, the AMC people were dicks.  I could see the way they were talking to the people volunteering their time and energy that evening.  They didn't deserve that.  I can tell the difference between someone who is stressed out due to their event, and those who are just plain assholes.  They were assholes.  Lame evening. 

Tonight, I'm going to go see "The Deal" and "The Queen".  Unfortunately, neither the actor who was supposed to show up, or the screenwriter who was supposed to show up in his place will be there this evening.  I had all these posters planned for them to sign.  Oh well.  Instead, I'm going to try to sell some posters of "The Queen".  We have four of them signed by Helen Mirren, days before she won her Oscar.  That's pretty cool.  I have to design some sort of sign for the table, but I'm just feeling too lazy to care.  Dammit, that reminded me that I have yet to create a user friendly version of the signed poster list.  Grrrr...

Anywho, more on Batman.  Arclight Hollywood featured the Batman bike, the Batman costume, the Joker costume, and the clown masks.  Pretty awesome to check out before or after viewing the film.  The Batman bike blew me away in the film.  And come on, they flipped a semi-truck, yet the film had substance.  What more can you ask?

Yesterday, we went to Culver City to clean up the house and check the mail.  We moved dozens of boxes and broken furniture around, so that we can fit our car in the third parking space in the garage.  We lost the pass they had given us to park in the other areas of the compound.  Oh well.  I opened up my mother's Jeep, sprayed it with a Febreze type dealy, and emptied the ashtray.  It's going to be tough getting that cigarette smell out.  No one wants to smell that going to San Diego or Las Vegas for that matter. 

21 July

What will the world do after me?

Last night, I dreamt that I was either in a foreign country or a part of France with which I'm unfamiliar.  There was a book convention and I was walking through it amazed at the quantity of first editions and out of print books they had.  There were also lots of old European comics.  It was really incredible.  The sky was overcast and it rained intermittently.  This young guy decided he liked me and wouldn't leave my side.  In my dream, I was older than 35.  This young guy was probably early 20s.  I found him rather amusing.  He decided to show me his city despite the rain.  We stopped at a cafe and had a hot cocoa.  Although the conversation wasn't particularly interesting, the feeling that this was right was so strong that when I woke up, it depressed me.  In the dream, although dubious to his sudden attachment to me, at the same time, I knew that he would never leave my life from then on.  This guy was meant to be a great love.  And I immediately felt comfortable with him.  Considering all the horrible dreams I've been having, this was a welcome change.  Yet now, I feel sad, depressed that that isn't my current reality.

Friday evening, I had dinner with my stepfather and his neighbors, Sylvie and Pete.  She's French, he's Danish, and they're both really interesting people.  The conversation was all over the place.  Rick made a tri-tip on the grill and I brought an apple tart.  My stepfather made a salad and some corn on the cob.  What was really surprising was how good the meat ended up being.  That tri-tip had been in our freezer for like a month.  And although Rick had volunteered to make it, he hadn't mention that he'd never cooked anything like that.  But he really made an effort.  He made a BBQ sauce and a rub from scratch.  Everything came together really well.  Delicious.  Also pleasant, my mother wasn't there.  She wouldn't have let anyone else make the meal and she would've taken over the conversation.  Plus, she would've drank too much and been belligerent.  I think it might be best if their neighbors didn't discover her dark side right away.  She needs some nice friends. 

Last night, I headed a meeting regarding the AC volunteer film I'm trying to get together.  The point of the meeting was to come up with scenarios to shoot and for me to really figure out how I want to structure it.  But most of the hour was spent bashing people who weren't there.  It was really funny.  Then, Bruce and I walked to the Arclight to check out the Batman madness.  They had the bike, the costumes, Joker minion masks, etc...  And outfits from "Mamma Mia".  Also to note, we saw Matthew Perry in the crowds.  He was looking good for Matthew Perry, you know, healthy.

I think today is going be a lazy day.  I'm feeling very meh.  I called my father and grandmother this morning.  We watched "The Savages" last night and I was haunted by the idea that I hadn't spoken to them in like three weeks and what if they passed?  Really stupid thoughts.  My little cousin Noemie got both her driver's license and Bac within the same ten days.  So that's awesome.  My uncle's new restaurant isn't doing so well.  Because of the high gas and food prices, people are taking modest vacations this year.  All the tourist towns are suffering.

 

 

18 July

Geisha Girl Take Coffee Break Now

The more I see "The Dark Knight" trailers and promos, the less I'm affected by the whole Heath Ledger death thing. Thank goodness. I'm kind of scared to see the movie. I have so much expectation of greatness that I'll either be disappointed or vindicated. And if it's the latter, I might think myself unworthy to ever make films. Chris Nolan has become an idol to me, someone to admire and follow in terms of merging successful films with substance.

I heard that some random blogger was pissed off that Justin Theroux was hired to write the sequel to "Iron Man". What a perfectly non-industry reaction to have, but let's look at this closer. First of all, for those who don't know who that is, Justin Theroux is an actor (he was in Mulholland Drive and The Baxter, to name a couple of good ones). Secondly, he's only written one script that has sold, that being "Tropic Thunder" which hasn't come out yet. So, the blogger was ranting about how could a guy who's only written one script of a film that hasn't even come out yet, could get hired to write such an important sequel (important in terms of financial stake). Well, let me say this, no matter if "Tropic Thunder" hasn't come out yet, it's a sure money maker. It's incredibly high concept and it looks hilarious. Robert Downey Jr. is in it, he's friends with Theroux (who also exec produces the film), so why wouldn't he want to hire his friend? I'm sure Theroux has written other scripts, and everybody in this town reads everything that's circulating, so they know what his skills are like. Bottom line, it's so logical, why is anyone complaining of this?

What I don't understand is that the studio had no contingency plan in case "Iron Man" was a success. It was tracking really well before it opened. I would've been looking for writers then, instead of waiting around and then setting a release date for a sequel that hasn't even been written yet. Lame business practices. By the by, whatever happened to "The Incredible Hulk"? I hope that cooled down Edward Norton's crazy rampage of overtaking creative control of films. Just because he directed one film which did poorly in more ways than one, hardly makes him an expert at creating an action blockbuster. Just saying...

I'm watching an episode of "The Lucy Comedy Hour" which is set in Japan. It's so racist that it's funny as hell.

Last night's event was very tame. No real celebrities showed up. David Lynch didn't do the red carpet. Most of the volunteers were very disappointed that they didn't get to meet him. I facilitated the bands and other talent in getting publicity for themselves, as well as for the event. The bands were really nice. In fact, everybody was really nice. So rare. Even the hyper-stressed people were nice. Maybe it's the meditation they all do.

One of the most sexist videos I've ever seen is on BET right now. Ashanti's "Good Good". Honestly, what kind of woman agrees to demean herself like that? Did she not read the music video's treatment? I changed the channel, Mariah Carey came on, and I've been sick of her shit since the early 90s. I'll go pretend to be productive now.

 

 

14 July

Flash Floods

My voicemail message goes: This is Mel's cell, leave me a message. This morning I received a rather long message that starts with a hearty, Hey Mel. It was from some guy I don't know about how he was going to meet up with this company and secure remunerations. And that he would call later from another number. I didn't listen to this message until late afternoon. So, I decide to start googling what I think his name might be spelled when my phone rings. And it's him. And he's confused, because the Mel he's looking for should be a male. Yes, a male Mel. That's what he said. Well, sorry, buddy. Wrong number. What I think is rather remarkable is that there's some guy out there named Mel with phone number that's nearly identical to mine. What are the odds? By the way, this guy is a record producer. It's amazing the amount of info you get on someone from the internet. I know where he lives, all about his company, his recent effort which is a CD compilation of US soldier in Iraq rapping about what it's like to be a US soldier in Iraq. Apparently, they're very stressed out. No shit.

Yesterday morning, I found myself tricked into working a half day as a receptionist in the Disney Channel bldg. Over a year and a half ago, I vowed to never ever do receptionist work, as well as retail and food service work. I did it all long enough and it sucked and I would like to not repeat the experience. So, when I found out I was there not to work on a project or assist a VP, but to man the reception desk, I was so pissed off I could hardly contain it. My seething remarks were not unnoticed. In response to my slightly aggressive response to the person who was "training" me, she says, "You're so smart!" I'm not an outwardly violent person, but I wanted to sock her. I find it really humiliating to be talked down to by someone who is obviously stupid. To them, it is complicated, to me, it's ridiculously easy. Yes, no shit, this thing is a button to get the doors open. No fuck, this is how a phone is answered. Worst part, no computer access. No wait, the worst part was the fact that I was surrounded by four screens and only one had sound. So I got to be endoctrinated by horrible sit-coms for four hours. Thank you ABC Family morning programming. "Sabrina, the Teenage Witch", "Sister, Sister" AND "Full House"? I must be in heaven! Why? Why must every person who walks by have to say hello and smile, meaning I'd have to respond in kind? It's so fucking annoying. Don't you have better things to do? My year and a half of misery at the TV Academy came flooding back, it was horrible.

I'll shut up about it now. Instead, I'll share the interesting conversation I had with Barry the theater manager at the Egyptian Theater. We talked for a very long time in the lobby about dream interpretation, a subject I usually find dreadful when coming from just about anyone, besides my aunt who's just a great storyteller. We spoke of numbers and other such possibly mystical things. I told him of a recent dream I had where I couldn't remember someone's order and had to ask them to write it down. And when I arrived at the bar, I had hundreds of pieces of paper in my hand, except for the one with the order on it. And when the bartender gave me the menu to perhaps figure it out, the letters kept on jumbling around and I was unable to read to my greatest distress. Well, Barry said that the bartender was culture, and the papers, my inability to organize my work, so that I can bring it out to the general public. I shared my idea of how it's too easy to over-symbolize everything, but he spoke of symbols that cross all cultures and that are immutable. Bref, it was really interesting stuff, whether one believes in it or not.

I miss having conversations that are worth having. My daily life consists of quick dialogue exchanges about the most mundane activities, spiced with some swears and yelling for show. I need my Maurice.

I spent my morning translating some texts for a friend and was surprised at the ease of it all. I looked up maybe two words, but only for reference purposes. I'm rather glad I had all that subtitling work this year, it feels good to be able to float between the two languages so easily.

I've kept away from the television and barely played any games online. Instead, I was productive in not so creative projects, such as mapping out my agenda for the volunteer film mtg. next week. Next Wednesday, I'll be helping out at this random concert benefiting the David Lynch Foundation. Good fun, I hope. Those people tend to be rather mellow, and they've been suprisingly friendly in their emails.

We're supposed to get some thunderstorms this weekend. There was a flash flood alert earlier. The sky is clear though and the temperature hasn't fluctuated wildly. I was tempted to go on the roof and examine the heavens, but then, you know, meh. Maybe I will. I'll get the camera out, takes some pictures of clouds or whatever. Good times ahead.

 

 

9 July

Wide Unclasp

A film I translated is going to be screened at the Aero Theater on Sunday, July 20th.  Specifically, "La Chinoise" by Godard.  And although I don't recommend the film, I'm totally going to go see the first half hour, cause shit man, those are my words on the screen.  That's fucking cool.  Plus, they're showing "Alphaville" beforehand, and that's a masterpiece that I have yet to see on the big screen.

Anywho, nothing particularly exciting to report.  Bank, Target, TJ's, home.  Ah yes, we went to the Beverly Center, but there were no Swatches I liked.  So, new plan, going back to Hollywood & Highland and doing a straight exchange.  I saw a new watch that was pretty sweet, I'm going to see if I can get that one without paying extra.  We'll see.

Can anyone solve this riddle?  This is taken from two windows at the Mystery Winchester House.

The first window says:
WIDE UNCLASP
THE TABLES OF
THEIR THOUGHTS

And the second:
THESE SAME
THOUGHTS PEOPLE
THIS LITTLE WORLD

The second phrase is coherent, the first however...

 

 

7 July

Les Jours Impassibles

I'm so fucking frustrated right now.  It's too hot and once more, the day has been wasted away.  What a fucking nightmare.  Crazy dreams, wake up tired late in the morning, watch TV for hours on end, night falls, watch more TV, then eventually go to bed at like 2am.  Unfuckingbelievable.

Good news, bad news.  A bunch of bills are late.  Thursday, I only got one of two checks that I was counting on.  Had exactly 73 cents left on my bank account after the rent.  The good news was that I received a relatively important check on Saturday, after the banks closed, so it's totally pointless until Monday.  I hate money woes, especially when caused by others.  I'm considering getting a full time job again starting mid-August.  How depressing.  It's not like I'm getting any more writing work done either way.  Well, maybe a little more, but still, not enough to warrant this way of life.

My dreams are too vivid, too stressful, and have become less and less coherent.  The stories repeat and change.  The characters change mid-dream and I don't even notice until after I wake up.  It's really throwing me.  And they stay with me all day like a shadow.

I've resorted to a bottle of Blue Moon and a stick of Mojito flavored gum. 

Yesterday we attended Jen's Josh's birthday party.  Fun times.  Swam in a pool, avoided a rather creepy person, ate a burger.  What was creepy about this guy?  First of all, he wouldn't stop smiling.  And that plain freaks me out.  Why are you smiling?  His large teeth reminded me of my mother for some reason.  Secondly, he was inching closer and closer to me.  I like my personal space.  I like it a lot.  And I do notice when people are getting too close.  Thirdly, he kept on "subconsciously" touching his body, like his abs or nipples, bringing attention to them.  It was too much.  Why was he shirtless?  Because we were in a swimming pool, you damn pervert.  So, I cut the conversation, and declared that I was sick of being in the swimming pool, which was a lie. 

Isn't it weird how we connect to so few people?  Here I was amidst people who had mostly gone to the same film school, who are roughly my age, who are out in LA to make it in the film industry one way or another, and yet, I could find nothing to say.  And every time I tried talking to someone or making a joke or joining in on the fun, I could tell I was intruding.  I could just feel the cold shoulder.  What the fuck?  This kind of behavior might make someone think they might have leprosy.  If this weren't the fucking exception, I'd be feeling bad about myself today.  Typical midwest bullshit, if you don't know them since kindergarten or have been working with them for years, forget about becoming friends.  Then again, it's not like I'm trying to be friends, I don't see a problem with being social for an afternoon of fun.  Okay, I'm dropping it.

Shitty days.  

 

3 July

Good Choice/Bad Choice

I was browsing the 99 cent store weekly ad, to perchance find some cheap amusing items to stuff into a pinata, when I came across this ad:

It's so fucking hilarious.  They have a fat guy with a rubber band around his head to hold up his "hands-free" cell phone.  Simultaneously, they're advertising their 1lb bags of rubber bands.  Ha ha ha ha! I want to meet whoever came up with that.  By the by, for those not living in California who are reading this, yesterday, on July 1st, we finally began a new law banning people from using their cells phones while driving unless they were hands-free.  Personally, I think when people are driving, they should be focused on the road, with only music to serve them as company...

Today is another lazy day.  Had weird dreams, was woken up by an extremely random phone call, took a shower, ate some lunch/breakfast (yes in that order, and yes, back to back), wrote a little and now my brain has fizzed out.  I'm resisting the urge to play video games, but I don't think that will hold out for very much longer.

 

 

30 June

Un Joujou Extra

I've had Boris Vian's song "J'suis snob" stuck in my head all weekend. It's such a hilarious song, smart lyrics.

Friday afternoon there was quite the Wall-E frenzy at Disney studios. Lots of fun. I got a pin. The person I temped for last week sent me two DVD's. POTC 2 & 3, since I had told her I didn't have them. What a nice gesture.

My Swatch stopped working a week ago after water mysteriously entered it. I went to the store to find out what they could do about it. Apparently, the person who had installed the battery, failed to secure the seal and that's how the water had gotten in, rusting the interior and making it broken. And that sucks, because it had been a birthday gift. So they're going to replace the aluminum face plate, but they only had one at that store and I wasn't thrilled with it, so they're sending me to their Glendale store tomorrow night. We'll see what they have.

The cashier at the Express store at Hollywood & Highland pissed me off. She was just plain rude. And she couldn't answer a simple question, then again the music is always SO LOUD in there, she probably didn't even hear me. So I called the store manager and complained. Fuck that shit, I worked too long in retail to have to deal with attitude. I really should cancel my credit card with that place, I never buy anything there. Blecch.

This morning, I walked on over to the Larchmont market to check out the supposed French cheese booth. I found it right away and they had Reblochon, Comte, Beaufort, Tomme de Savoie, basically all my favorites. The only problem is he was charging up the ass for them. $20/lb.? I think not. That's a total rip-off. Later, I overheard a conversation from another French guy who held a booth there, and he was complaining about the cheese guy's prices. What a lame story.

Then I wanted to go to a coffee shop, but the only one within the vicinity of my apartment was closed. So I went home, played some Neopets like a tool, watched "Point Break" for the first time and played some more games online.

Later, I walked on over to Channel101 and was delighted to find a rather strong screening. I was surprised to find myself enjoying "Pass the Pigs" as I usually can't stand that guy's animated stuff. His sense of humor is on another plane. But this show was special, as it featured a game that I haven't played in years. The premise was great, the voice acting awesome. Hopefully it got enough votes. "Water and Power: Miami" was a hilarious concept, but fell flat. It was shot poorly, the "Power" casting was a miss, and it could've had more references to "CSI: Miami" which is chock full of nonsense to exploit. The "Stop It" finale was pretty hilarious, to note, the Tyler Spiers cameo. Gotta love pan cuts.

Well, I gotta get ready to watch "Venture Bros." I've forgotten everything I was going to talk about, so might as well say adieu.

 

 

25 June

Sennöché

Alphabet reminds me of Supertramp's song "From Now On". The mundane routine of life can be soul-crushingly depressing to some. I've found out that for some odd reason, not everyone feels that way. I know I do. I can't stand that life, it makes me ache for adventure, but real adventure, not just, hey, let's travel around the world, and open our horizons. My horizons are totally wide open, in fact I can't get enough of it. No, by adventure, I mean alien worlds, alternate universes, time travel, Batman, James Bond. Something that may kill you, kind of adventure. Hell even with this current life, which feels like a continuous limbo, I'm just yearning for something way more. In the darkness of my mind lives a hope that there is way more, but it's hidden from my sight until I have enough... I don't know, maybe money, success, intelligence, knowledge, love (?), whatever. Something's amiss. Then again, it might all be a false hope, but I can't throw it out, because deciding that this is it makes me just want to puke. If I agreed to those limitations, I might just completely shut myself inward and fully live in folk stories, myths and fairy tales.

This day was spent mostly naked. Out of utter laziness, I decided not to take a shower or put on clothes until mid-afternoon. I smelled bad, my hair was greasy, but at least I didn't feel too hot. Then again it was a high of 85F, so that is definitely reasonable.

Rick had bought two tickets to the Dodgers-White Sox game tonight. I went all the way to Dodger Stadium with him on the intent that I would watch the game. But then we parked really far to save $15 on parking, and had to walk uphill in the sun. I was not happy. Then I saw the seats. They were awful, total nosebleeds. Oh and we were there 2 hours prior to the beginning of the game. I started feeling a headache coming on. I don't know if it was the heat, the crowds that just wouldn't stop coming, the high prices of beverages, or the loud ass PA system, but I had to leave. I had to. So I called Bruce and had him give me some bus info. What else was I going to do? I'm not a bitch, Rick wanted to be there, I'm not going to ask him to drive me home. That's fucked up. Besides, I complained enough. So I left. And literally, as soon as I was off Dodger Stadium property, my head ache disappeared. Luckily I didn't wait long on the bus. I read my book, got to my street, walked 15 minutes and was in front of my building. And then, all of a sudden, I realized that my keys were in my apartment. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Durdy dur. How could I have forgotten? You see, I only took my wallet to the game, I hate carrying purses and avoid it if I can. At our last apartment, when you called the building manager to open your apartment door, it cost $25. They were greedy assholes. Luckily, this building isn't like that. The manager was just coming back from the grocery store and was very nice about letting me back in. No fee.

The idea of waiting around at a fucking coffee shop until 11pm, meaning the end of the game plus time for Rick to get back, was really pissing me off. I would've probably gone to the Arclight and seen a film, but still. I just wanted to be home. Alone.

I had the chance to be home alone today. It gave me time to pay bills and send some important emails which I had kept on forgetting to do. You see, Rick graciously wandered to Larchmont for an hour. I think I've been making it abundantly clear that never having this place to myself (when I pay for the entirety of the rent) sucks. One-bedroom apartments are too small for two people. I saw a two-bedroom opened up about half a block north of us. I might call to see how much it's going for, perhaps visiting. It would be so nice if that idiot could pay his half of the rent. It's officially been over a year since he's had a job. That's not right.

On a totally random note, the only blog I read on a somewhat regular basis besides stuff on Walrus Comix is Dan Harmon's. He's a professional film and tv comedy writer, co-founder of Channel101 (the other co-founder being Rob Schrab, creator of SCUD). If you have some time to spare, please read an entry or three, they tend to be awesome. Pay attention to the Beau Brooks comments. It's been developing into quite the drama. It's nice to see others humiliated for a change.

Wow, Firefox just crashed, but luckily my blog entry remained intact. What a fucking miracle. I thought for sure that all this had been erased, doomed to be yet another victim of the instability of computers and the internet. Oh man, I'm so relieved. I think I'll have a beer to celebrate.

 

 

23 June

Why Does the Sun Want My Death?

So soon after posting my previous blog, Mommie Dearest called. I let it go to voicemail, because I really did not want to hear her voice. Turns she gets to the airport with both my sisters and Orane's passport had expired. It expired the week before. It's so fucking stupid that it's funny. So, she decides to fly out with Thavory anyways and leaves Orane with her father, Patrick. So Patrick calls and they come over, because they just moved in Culver City and they don't have internet and he needs to figure out how to obtain a new passport within a day. And then, to protect kids from being kidnapped, both parents have to be in attendance at the passport place. If that's not possible, then the missing parent has to send a notarized letter explaining why they can't be there. So that's one hiccup. Secondly, with all the boxes mixed up in the garage, he could only find a copy of Orane's birth certificate, not the real deal.

Anywho, it's been crazy for them. Friday they spent it at the French Consulate. Today, they're at the Federal passport place by the Veterans' Cemetary near UCLA. He said he'd call me to let me know whether they were able to obtain her a passport or not. If so, she leaves tomorrow. Otherwise, they'll have to change her plane ticket yet again. And the worst part is you have to have a plane ticket, or else they won't give you a super expedited passport. It's a complicated and stressful road, which I had experienced a couple of years ago. I thought it would take less time to get a new passport via the post office. And when I realized I was wrong, I had to ask a favor from someone who works with the passport office and get it done a few days prior to my flight. It sucked.

Friday, I worked from 8:30am-8:00pm. And I only got one project finished that being the massive mailer. So lame. The rest of the stuff... A total bust. I had leave an extensive note explaining everything that had come to be that week in that office. Very lame. Since both bosses were working off-site, I brought a bunch of CD's. For some reason, that half of the floor is totally deserted, so I cranked it up. Then the intern showed up, because he couldn't figure out how to access his Disney email account from home. Lame. I didn't turn down the music. The guy is a douche. Then Sunil showed up, we had lunch on the lot. It was over 110F in the valley. Every time I inhaled air, my mouth went dry. It was a sickening feeling. The Disney lot is small and we didn't even do a complete tour. We tried staying in the shadows, but that wasn't enough. We stopped by Buena Vista Marketing at the behest of some of those folk who had spotted me in the commissary. I felt so retarded because of the heat. I seriously couldn't put a cohesive sentence together. We parted ways, and I walked back to my office. I felt horrible. I got a bottle of unsweetened ice tea and literally gulped it. It took a good half hour for my brain to regain its functions. I hate the heat.

Until a week ago, we were experiencing a relatively cool summer and it was so enjoyable. It was between 75F-85F tops. Perfect temperature at night. And now, we're all melting. Especially in the valley. Hollywood is 10 degrees cooler, then as you continue south (and towards the beaches), it gets another 10 degrees cooler. But still that means it's 95F in Culver City and that's way too hot.

Anywho, Friday afternoon, Patrick calls and says Orane wants us to come over and swim in the pool with her. Um, yes. So back we were, swimming away for a solid hour. Those pools are great. Clean, warm, perfect. At night, the palm trees are lit up. And Culver City is near enough the ocean that the sky is somewhat clear. So you can float on your back and see the palm trees framing the stars. It's awesome. Then we proposed to take Orane back to our apartment, since Patrick had asked us to take care of her during the weekend. She's ten years old, smart, funny, and doesn't shut the fuck up. Seriously, there's no off button. And she has unlimited energy. She stays up late and wakes up early and there's nothing you can do about it. Sure, we tried the ole Ambien in the water trick, nope didn't do a thing to her. I kid of course.

Since none of us had eaten dinner, we went to an El Pollo Loco. Very exciting. Then back to Hollywood where we watched the telly until, I don't know, midnight or 1am. I was so tired from that week of crazy stress that I basically passed out until 10:30am. I don't think my body even moved. Then we had a very exciting day going to the bank and then to the valley. Why would we go to the valley where the temperature could make sidewalks melt? Because there was a free screening of "Kung Fu Panda", and although we didn't care to see it and Orane had already seen it, it spared us from having to choose between "Get Smart" or "The Love Guru". No thank you. Dreamworks' latest animated venture was okay... We didn't understand why they used so many celebrities for the voices. They didn't even use their fame to promote the film. Like Angelina Jolie, Jackie Chan (I'd be hard pressed to remember the one line they gave him), Lucy Liu (although I'm sure she was grateful for the work). I did like Dustin Hoffman's voice for Shi Fu. It fit, but all those other celebrities have voices that aren't paricularly interesting. A good voice actor would've done a better job.

Then we felt like we deserved to be swimming in a pool, so we went back to Culver City and decided to spent the night there and go to the beach on Sunday. Which is exactly what we did. Rick and I bought some beach umbrellas and other nonsense. It took us forever to reach Leo Carrillo (a super nice beach in Malibu, but very far away). Orane and I had a great time, we spent all our time in the water. Lots of sea weed, great waves. It was so windy. There were tons of sailing and surfing going on. I got some great pictures before the camera's battery died. At one point, Orane and I were sitting on wet sand, waiting for Rick to return with the goggles we had forgotten by our bags. We started digging and I felt a shell and I wondered if it was alive, so I continued digging. Eventually the water swept away the sand and there was this pink crustacean thing. And it freaked out and dug itself back in the sand. It was the weirdest looking creature. It was probably as scared as Orane was of it. Very amusing bit. It was so gross the way it had dug back into the sand. Visions of horror films like "The Faculty" or even "The Matrix" came to mind of critters digging into human flesh. Yes, my mind is totally fine.

After two hours, we get back in the car and there's a ton of traffic. So Rick makes the executive decision to skip the Pacific Coast Highway and take the 101 to the 405 instead. At first, it's smooth sailing and then for no reason, there was traffic for 30 minutes. Then we hit Mulholland Drive and he decides to take it to the 405 instead. So we get on Mulholland and we're in the midst of this really nice residential area. And then there's a sign that says: Next 7 miles is unimproved road. Well, we had borrowed the Jeep, so we thought let's do it. We start going on this dirt road full of holes and bumps and we're going like 10 miles an hour in fear of unhinging an axle. And we saw two ranches, otherwise nothing but nature. It was really weird. Then I saw a deer. Seriously, a deer on Mulholland Drive. Really weird stuff. After about three miles, the road was blocked and that was that. We had to make a u-turn and go back. Why was there no sign saying this wasn't a through street? Who knows. In essence, we did drive over 7 miles of dirt road. There and back...

So finally, we make it to Culver City. And of course, go swimming. Then we had dinner. Patrick made some steaks on the grill. It was fairly good. Orane watched the end of "Dude, Where's My Car?" and we went home. Unfortunately, we arrived too late for the new "Venture Bros." Hopefully I'll be able to catch it online. I did get to see "Fat Guy Stuck in Internet" which was even more awful than I had remembered. What shit. But as we remind ourselves, it's on the air. How can I get some of that moon money?

My muscles ache from all that physical activity recently. Good times.

 

 

20 June

Clytus, I'm bored.

About an hour and a half of work didn't get saved yesterday, so I've been annoyed all day. I don't have the strength to redo it right now, so I've been catching up on a whole bunch of other crap. I'm tired. Still not sleeping well. Lame.

Last night, we went straight to Culver City and spent two hours swimming. Then we had dinner which was weird and annoying. You cannot imagine my absolute joy at the fact that they are going to be in France for two months. My littlest sister was all sad about it. It's awful, but I don't even care. I've seen them too much this year so far, so frankly, begone. Give my space!

So that's that. We were given the gate clicker, and soon, the house keys as well, so that we may dispose of the house as we please this summer. Rick's parents will most likely be staying there. The place is like a retirement home. The pools are excellent, heated and super clean. There are two work out rooms and jacuzzis.

Hopefully, tonight, with most of these projects either done or underway, I won't be thinking of them, and will actually sleep. The weird thing is that I'm not really stressed out when awake, but it's taken over my subconscious. I really do prefer doing nothing all day, not interacting with people, watching movies, reading, writing. If only there weren't bills and rent.

I've noticed that in the early morning, at least during the summer, our tiny patio gets direct sunlight. I'm wondering if that would be enough to grow a few veggies and herbs. With the rising price of food and the poor quality control, it would be crazy not to have a garden. And it's way easier to do than you might think. Especially with root vegetables like potatoes, carrots and onions. Tomatoes grow pretty easily as well. Think about it, think think about it.

 

 

18 June

Inclusion not Diversity

I'm so exhausted.  I feel like I might pass out at any moment.  I'm restraining from getting coffee, because I don't want an incident like last night to occur again.  Yesterday was so hectic at Disney, that I didn't have the chance to eat lunch, so I was pounding mocha after digusting mocha all day.  I got to the Egyptian Theater all jittery and stuffed my face with as much pasta and pizza I could get my hands on.  There had been a bunch of left over chocolate dipped strawberries from this very long meeting, so I had brought them to the volunteer party.  They disappeared within five minutes, literally sucked up into the void.

Last night, the American Cinematheque hosted their annual volunteer party.  And to change things up, they asked volunteers to bring some films to screen.  And that sounds like a great idea, until wacko comes out of the woodwork with 23-minute art films with so much camera movement that I started feeling nauseous.  And then Skeletor gets to screen six horribly boring films for no apparent reason.  And then, they show "The Coco Ono Show" right before a cancer survival group slide show.  It was a fucking mess.  Programming is not the forte at the Egyptian, but I think we already knew that.

Overall, it was great to see everyone's efforts, but there was so much bad stuff mixed in, that it left a nasty after-taste.  My favorite two films were by Pharaoh and Jim.  Pharaoh's "Victoria's Secret Mansion" was hilarious.  Its sincerity and lack of pretention allowed its complete absurdity to bloom into a wondrous gem.  I'm not sure if that was the intention of the filmmaker, but it was really, really, really funny.  Loved it.  Secondly, Jim's film, whose title I can't recall at the moment, and unfortunately, the program is at my apartment, anywho, his film was well crafted and could be a candidate for a kick ass NIN music video.  Seriously good stuff.  The rest though, including our own stuff, blecch.  Should not be seen on the big screen.  Bad.  Very bad.

Next year, I'm either shooting a film specifically for the event with only volunteers in it, or I'm showing something that really is good, you know, not 90% shot on green screen...  Not that the effects looked, but it was just really obvious.  The digital projector is not forgiving.  Rick did an amazing job of re-editing "Double Twist".  He calls it the Martini Edition.  In fact, here it is:

Let me know if you like it.  I think what makes it so fabulous is Matt Blashaw's take on Sebastian Twist.  And as much as we'd like to, we can't take credit for all his amazing improv.  The stuff of comedic genius.  I'm always surprised when I realize he's not super famous yet.  The guy is too talented not to have his face plastered everywhere.  "Double Twist" as a feature film???  Our next step is to cut up that episode above and turn it into a three part webisode to shop around and/or as a calling card.  Frankly, I'd love to be paid to make more of those, with better effects, that would be killer.  Killer?  I'm using some rather unusual expressions today...

I had lunch with Gus today.  We discussed films.  And when attempting to speak of life, it always came back to films.  Frankly, I wonder if I'm able to have a conversation that doesn't involve box office figures.  I feel so lame.  I've been in it so long, that I'm starting to fear navigating outside the waters of this industry.  The seventh art as it is said in France.

Tomorrow evening, swimming pool + dinner in Culver City.  Oh joy.  Thursday, they leave for France for the summer.  Oh joy! Finally, some peace and quiet around here, at least for a while. 

 

 

16 June

You’re punny, but looks aren’t everything

Well, I just saw "The Happening" where stuff happens, keeps on happening, stops happening, and then happens somewhere else. The only twist is M. Night's credit at the end, which is really more of a joke. The young couple next to me left after a half hour. But I just can't figure out why. Most of the violent stuff had ended for a while and the pace hadn't slowed yet. Frankly, I don't really know how I felt about the film. I felt rather depressed as I walked out, like when I wake up from a disturbing dream that was interesting, but maybe not completely satisfying. Would I recommend it? I don't know. I really don't think this would be many people's cup of tea. It's gotta be better than "The Incredible Hulk" though. I'm persuaded of that much.

I'm in a writy mood right now. It's a rather lazy day. There's shit to do, but I don't wanna do it. Like the dishes and laundry. I did go to the post office and mail out those Converse shoes to my aunt in France.

All my good clothes need to be cleaned. My outfit today is ludicrous. My hair's acting weird. I'm just not in it.

I've spent my day wishing I were asleep, not out of being tired, just because I feel too lazy to be awake. I'd rather be active in my dreams. Tick tock.

Rick keeps on buying tickets for White Sox games at Dodger Stadium. It's nice that he can afford it. Wait a minute...

The trailers before the film were all AWFUL. Seriously. All of them without fail. Even the film with Chris Meloni. CHRIS MELONI! I just don't understand how these scripts can be bought and then produced. I shouldn't complain, I'm not writing gold either. Fuck.

 

12 June

Double the Dutch’s Delight

Well, I had the chance to go see Indy 4 at the Dome again, for free this time, so I did.  I still liked it.  Sure, the first half is somewhat boring.  Sure, the plot is convoluted.  But hey, it's still fun.  And I still like that fridge bit.  I say, blame George Lucas.  It's the easiest thing to do.

I watched the "Dark Knight" trailer again, but did not cry.  So that's an improvement.  I'm ridiculously excited to go see that film.  It's the kind of film that you know won't disappoint.  It's the kind of film that you simply must see in theaters several times.  You just have to.  Yes, I hold Chris Nolan and his bro in very high esteem.  I can't help it.  They're awesome.

On the walk back, I had a few clever ideas for two scripts I'm working on.  At this point, I'm slowly putting together four different scripts.  I just cannot focus on one story at a time.  I need several simultaneous ones.  I read the same way actually.  Usually three books at once, usually at least one in French.  It's easier emotionally.  When I invest myself in one story, one world, it's really hard for me to move on.  Just like after "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle".  That was tough.

Also on the walk back, I saw this youthful tabby again.  He's very friendly and comes up right to me and lets me pet him all over.  That didn't sound right.  My point is I could pet his tummy and he wouldn't bite.  I'm not sure if he's got an owner.  There's this person who leaves food and water out for the neighborhood cats and that's where he goes.  So...  The cat tried to be friendly to Rick, but he was having none of that with his allergies.  Is there a place where I can trade Rick in for a cat?  Please do let me know.

 

10 June

Ach, the Torture!

I have found evil.  It is Astro Base Go.

How can I possibly choose one t-shirt without knowing all of them? This is pure torture. I mean, I already missed the Guild of Calamitous Intent logo which is just ridiculously awesome. And now, there's the Henry Killinger one! And I LOVE that logo too. I'm too broke to be able to get the remaining 12 at $22 a pop. My goodness. How horrible. I must focus on the character I want to see most and hope it comes out. Ach! Okay, Doctor Morpheus, fingers crossed. Doctor Morpheus... It's so tough, because Brock is awesome, Dr. Venture is awesome, the boys are awesome, the Monarch is awesome, Dr. Girlfriend is awesome, the henchmen are awesome. Damn it, damn it, damn it. I wish I had that kind of money to blow on t-shirts. Someone, please give me lots of money to write silly things. Thank you!

By the by, either the Wii Fit is a magical wish granting genie or it needs new batteries, because after an hour of arduous exercising (and one GIANT fart), I retook the body test. And what did it tell me? That I had lost 9.3 lbs. I was like, yeah right, buddy. Don't call me buddy, friend. I'm not your friend, guy. Anywho, so I was like, woah. I cancelled the test and retook it. This time it said I had lost 7.7 lbs. Wow. I have a third theory. The fart, composed of various gases, happened to weigh between 7-9 lbs. Or of course, the batteries are fucking dying.

I'm suddenly feeling skittish. What does that mean? Unpredictably excitable (especially in horses). Ick. Horses. Who needs 'em?

I will be in Vegas on August 4-5, 2008. We were looking at hotels and frankly, I've set my mind on Caesar's Palace. I'm sorry, Syd, but it's true. I have a weakness for skimpy togas. I can't wait to go and blow a bunch of money that I don't have. It's going to be awesome.

As per usual, my paranoia is getting the better of me. Better of me? We need better phrases. Anywho, I'm thinking that the subtitling place is trying to get rid of me, but doesn't want to be an asshole about it, because they like me as a person, and would love to hang out in the future without any awkwardness. You know? Frankly, I'd like a straight answer and move on with my life. It was fun, but if it's not working, then it's not working. Meh. One more rejection, it's fine, there's plenty of good stuff mixed in too, so...

I had fun writing Nano fiction today. I had never heard of it. There are two types. One is 55 word, where the first sentence is composed of ten words, and every sentence afterwards is one less word. It was harder than I originally imagined. The second type is just 69 words. They all have to be complete stories. It was a good exercise. I've started rewriting my short story in the third person, because the first was fine to write in, but not to read. Weird, huh? I'm being lazy about it though. I wonder why my brain decided to start working. Maybe it was the exercise. There's this one yoga pose that feels amazing on my back. Every time I do it, I feel high afterwards. It's nuts.

Also nuts, Holland v. Italy today. Wow. Holland won 3-0 and it was amazing. I fucking hate Italy since the Zidane fiasco of 1996. I'm still angry about that shit. So yes, I was fucking pleased as hell that those floppers got a big ole smack in their pride today. It's been 30 years since Holland's beaten them at a competitive game. Ridiculous. The god of soccer was not rooting for Italy, every shot they took was off. It was like there was a force field around the Dutch goalie. Oh shit, the Scottish broadcaster said "Double the Dutch delight!" when they scored their second goal. The point is, I missed the France v. Poland earlier and I heard it was boring. Oh well. I'll try to be more mindful from now on. There are countries' pride at stake. Let me tell you, there's nothing like winning a soccer cup to see cities go balls to the wall crazy. When France won in '98, I was in Chamonix. It was awesome. But then when they won in '00, I was in Bordeaux, and that was even more amazing. Fireworks went off, there was wine flowing everywhere. Seriously, not to miss. I think that sums up my random day. Laters.