Beacon Hill Dude

I'm in Seattle at the moment, leaving tonight to go back to California. It's partly cloudy, 48 degrees. Excuse me, the forecast is actually "mostly sunny," though I can't tell the difference.

My folks' home is on Beacon Hill and I just spent the day cleaning up part of the house. I have this thing about old cobwebs hanging around the ceiling and walls. I just can't pass them without getting the willies. Really freaks me out. So, I vacuumed them up. Every last one I could reach or see.

Earlier, I walked down the street to Taco Time for my requisite Mexi-Fries and Crisp Beef Burrito. I know, you don't understand it, but every time I'm home, I gotta have it. After that, I walked across the street to Borrachini's Bakery for some coffee and an apple strudel for my dad.

Yesterday, my family went out for my dad's birthday at a Japanese place called Hiroshi's in the Eastlake area. It's not too shabby. Not cheap, but you get a lot of food. Service is good, too.

After the dinner, we checked out my brother and his wife's new condo at the Pan Pacific complex on 2200 Lenora. Pretty incredible view from their 11th floor 2-bedroom luxury home, and that was at night. I can imagine the day view being spectacular. There's a new Whole Foods store on the bottom floor, too.

On Saturday night, my friend and I went into Belltown for a bite at Wasabi Bistro and then later to a bar called Amber. We then walked to meet another friend at Islanders, just south of the Pike Place Market, where we had drinks, listened to some local musicians, and met the band members of the Hawaii group, Kalapana.

From there, my friend and I drove down to Four Seas Restaurant in Chinatown and shared a bottle of soju with our friend, the manager. He also brought out some fine tequila and we sipped a couple down. No, soju and tequila don't mix too well.

Of course, we couldn't end the drunkfest without a stop at Sea Garden for a bowl of noodles. I slurped down a bowl of beef brisket sui kau noodles. Delicious.

I think it was about 4 a.m. when I finally got to bed. Had some crazy dreams that night, but only one worth mentioning. Bruce Lee was giving me lessons on how to do a better impersonation of him. This isn't the first time I've had a dream of him, but the last time was about 5 years ago when I was still studying JKD pretty regularly.

We're about the same size, apparently. But he's much thinner, almost to the point of being only muscle and bones, held together by skin. We didn't hang out for very long, just a few minutes for him to give me pointers on my Cantonese accent. Apparently, that's the part he doesn't like about my impersonation the most. I guess I do more of a caricature than an impersonation. He seemed to appreciate the nuances I brought out, however, and although he didn't exactly say it, I think he was impressed.

And if you were wondering, I thought his Bruce Lee was pretty good, too.

Hollywood's Burning

Hollywood's usual smoggy blue skies were covered in huge brown shit stains today. Amazing to see. I took a few pics with my cell phone camera.

Not great but I was driving at the time. Wanted to get the Hollywood sign amidst the billowing smoke, but I missed that pic around the Gower exit and couldn't go back.

No. 336

Sometimes, you feel like just a number. Other times, you feel like "Asian guy No. 35." Today, I was No. 336 for a print audition. Stood in line among other numbers, of all different shells, listening to my iPod and playing a game on my cell phone.

A woman behind me kept urging me forward with her body language. How can I describe it? She stood off just to the side of me, but close enough so that I felt her vibrations, which made me want to move away from her. But if I moved to the side, away from her, then that would probably signal to her to move in front of me. Hmm, I wonder if that's how she drives...

The line actually wasn't so bad. It was finding parking at 3 p.m. around Santa Monica Blvd. in Hollywood that was insane. And forget plugging a meter. You'll never know how long the line will take.

Tonight, I'm celebrating at a fancy restaurant downtown called Windows. It's supposed to have great steaks, wines, salads and desserts. What for? Well, let's just say that, after checking my mailbox when I got home from the audition, I feel like a supermodel.

Like No Tomorrow

I'm sitting at The Coffee Bean on Sunset, just west of Fairfax, on the patio facing the Directors Guild building. It's 63 degrees and sunny, according to my Accuweather toolbar, but it feels like 53 in the shade. That's the thing about Southern Cali. It's warm in the sun, but in the shade, it's like a refrigerator. Good thing I brought a sweater.

A young lady in a slinky black tank dress and her friend are smoking away like no tomorrow. The friend is wearing a T-shirt and Converse tennis shoes, if that's of any interest. The woman in the dress is also petting a brown and white Chihuahua. So Paris Hilton, you might say. But I suppose this woman is pretty enough to get away with the spectacle.

I've just finished writing a chapter for my ongoing novel. It's a scene about my dad and a fire he started in the family home when I was a child. Most of the scene is true, but I added some dialogue to the scene that never took place. My dad, however, did say the words, just in a different context, and so I thought it would make for an interesting scene.

I have to pee like a racehorse after drinking a large iced coffee, but I don't want to lose my seat or pack up my things, which obviously includes a computer. Fortunately, my friend Chin Han just called and he's on his way. Chin Han hails from Singapore, but he comes to L.A. to produce some projects, one of which is the AXA Awards or the Asian Excellence Awards. The awards show happens in May here in L.A. somewhere.

Okay, now, I really have to pee. Where the frick is the guy? I'm starting to do the pee dance in my seat. Not good. REALLY NOT GOOD.

The driver in a car on the street just honked at the car in front of him, presumably because he's pissed at something like being cut off. That's L.A. for you.

Oh, cool, Chin Han just drove up. I tried to wave at him but he didn't see me. Apparently paying too much attention to a sign indicating how much it costs to park here.

The Coffee Bean has a wifi service with AT&T, by the way. I get their DSL service at home and the wifi privilege is an extra 2 bucks. Don't know why I'm plugging them. They're not exactly paying me. I did, however, work for an agency that had them as a client. I guess that means they paid me.

What a relief, by the way. I peed like there was no tomorrow.

Leonidas Chocolate Cafe

I'm in old town Pasadena right now, hanging out at the cafe across the street from the Apple store. It was absolutely dead inside when I arrived, but now there seems to be a steady flow of folks getting coffee and "if it's your first time here, your first chocolate is free." Tell them the Asian guy sent you.

Chocolate is pretty damn divine here, and there's an intermittent wi-fi signal from the Apple store that I can tap into from my iBook.

It's just beautiful outside right now, sunny and 70 degrees. People are just strolling by in their summer dresses and sleeveless tops. I'm inside the window, but I'm doing all the window shopping. The interesting part is, most people can't see me inside because of the tint on the window.

Until they get up close, that is. Then they stop picking their noses.

CBS Radford

Third interview (second callback) at CBS went pretty much without a hitch, but I have to say I don't feel nearly as comfortable as the first callback. I have to think about the reasons why, and the initial thoughts are disturbing to me.

Observation 1: First audition had 2 or 3 other Asian guys on the roster. When there's a bunch, my odds go down. When there's just a couple others, I'm pretty confident, not just of the odds, but that I will probably "win" the job.

Observation 2: Second audition had no Asian guys on the roster. In fact, I've never seen another Asian guy in the waiting room, period.

Observation 3: The guy who signed in before me was auditioning for the same role as me. He was white. That worries me... a lot!

This is a common reaction for me, at all my auditions. When I'm going against Asians, I don't feel competition. It's when I'm competing against white guys, I get antsy and contemplative and start to change the way I deliver my lines, etc.

Is this some sort of self-hate or unconscious stereotyping on my part? Well, yes, according to Malcom Gladwell, author of Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking, which is a sociologist-economist view of the world.

In one chapter in the book, several hundred people were tested for their perceptions of black people via a speed test conducted on a computer. Associations were drawn between, for example, good and black, or evil and white; and then changed on other associations, such as honest and white, or deceitful and black. Nearly all the participants showed a statistically significant lag time in speed when black was paired with a positive attribute. The interesting thing is, all these participants were... black.

So, obviously, I have a prejudice that Asians are less qualified as actors than white people. And I think I'm not alone. White folks, perhaps, also have that perception. Some people manage to compensate for their lack of acting talent with their presence and/or confidence. The problem is that what I have in presence, I definitely subtract in confidence. That's something I need to really study about myself and, also, work on.

Either that or go see a hypnotist. I know a particularly good one in Glendale, as a matter of fact.

Second Callback Tomorrow

I had a callback for that theatrical casting this morning. I got there exactly on time and went in and did my thing without a hitch. It must've been a decent read because they called me right away (well, an hour or so later) and asked me to come in for a second callback tomorrow evening.

But here's the catch. They said I'd have to go "core." I won't spell it out because it seems SAG is looking out for folks on the Web who are talking up this status. For the record, for all you "core haters" out there, I highly doubt I'll be doing much of any kind of theatrical acting in the future, so you can forget about me being an active union buster.

I just finished reading through some websites about going core. Sounds simple enough. The folks at SAG do try to steer you away from it, though, and for many good reasons. In fact, they "scare" you into not doing it with their various scare tactics.

Me? I'm just a schmuck who's out of work for the moment and in need of some paying work. I don't care to do a bunch of non-paying non-union films or reality TV, either. And no, I don't bus tables or care to be a fricking waiter. That's for bigger schmucks than me.

3 Times Around the Building

My audition at CBS got changed to Monday—this morning—at 10:30. I didn't even know CBS had a lot in Studio City, so as I walked through, I found it amazing, even though it looks like a miniature-sized version of either Universal or Warner Bros.

For some stupid reason, I left my driver's license at home, so I had a somewhat difficult time of it getting into the gate. I finally showed them my Costco card for picture ID. No, they didn't want to see my headshot, if you were wondering.

They gave me a map and pointed me toward the direction of the building, which is a good couple of blocks walk from the gate. So I passed by some sound stages, one of them for "Will & Grace," and others that must be in development because I've never heard the titles before.

I did see a parking space for a new show in development called "Fugly," and a name on the ground (on a piece of taped paper) marking the parking space for Quan Phung, whom I don't really know but I know who he is. I think he was at Fox before, or something like that. Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't fugly mean "fucking ugly"? I'm starting to wonder if there's some sort of "Ugly Betty"-themed show, possibly for an Asian guy.

So I found the building, which is a fairly large one with many suites built into the two-story structure, but couldn't locate the room number I was told to go to. So then I proceeded to walk around the building, and then walk around it again, and then walk around it once more, just to make sure I didn't see the right suite number.

Recently, I saw this "60 Minutes" segment on this savant-like man who could do calculations in his head very fast. He was also very literate and had most of his social skills intact, unlike most savants, the number of known ones totalling around 50 in the entire world. I'm not going to define "savant" for you here, but for shorthand, I'll just refer to the guy whom Dustin Hoffman portrayed in Rain Man.

So they take this savant-like guy and bring him into a casino. Oh, wait, it wasn't "60 Minutes" where I saw this bit. I saw this bit on a British-produced TV show I found on YouTube. I think his name is Daniel Limmett, but I'll check on that.

Anyway, the guy plays blackjack against a dealer and splits a pair of 7s against a dealer showing a 10. He gets another 7 and asks to split that as well. If you know a couple things about blackjack, you know you don't split 7s against a dealer showing 10. So the guy proceeds to get 21s on each 7, beating the dealer on three hands.

Now, the point of this is that the guy, just using math and probability, couldn't win any money. In fact, he was down most of his chips. To clarify, there are a set of rules blackjack players generally follow that give them the best odds against the dealer. This guy memorized those rules, and then proceeded to play. The problem was, you just can't play strictly by the numbers, or your cards will be dictated purely by the luck of the draw, limited by a given set of probability plays.

He then decides to use his imagination and sixth sense, along with his innate ability to count cards and figure out probability. He wins using this strategy.

So, finally—I know it took a long time to cross this bridge—I decided to snoop around and actually walk into one of the suites, and lo and behold, there was a sign-up sheet with actors waiting around to audition. The casting lady didn't even check the sheet and called me in next. Guess she knew what role she wanted to see next. And I did the lines once, she made corrections, I did it again, and she said, "Congratulations, that one earned you a callback. Can you come back tomorrow?"

She also asked about my union status and I said I'd be willing to go "core," and she made a note of that. Anyway, I walked out of that room feeling like I'd just been dealt three 7s and I beat the dealer showing a 10.

Whew, I don't know how I managed to make that little anecdote work after all.

Oh Lard-o Here

You know, I don’t know when it was I became such a lard ass. It must’ve been sometime between my 30s and 40s. The exact time and date eludes me, however.

I started doing this cleanse on Monday and now, what, three days later, I’m down by about 6 or 7 pounds. Yeah, I know this is mostly water weight, but I’m surprised by how much weight I’m down, yet I STILL look like a lard ass. Particularly in the torso. There’s just too much blubber down there.

I was working out in the gym today, pretty hard actually. I worked out yesterday, too. I don’t do too strenuous of a workout. Usually, it’s just a 20-minute ride on the cycle to warm up the body. Then I head to the free weights area for a light circuit training routine. And when I say “light,” I mean Heineken Premium Light. We’re talking about 5 sets of dumbbell press and butterfly press using 20-pound weights; and 5 light sets of rows on the Cybex machine, followed by 5 light sets on the lat pull. Then I’ll finish off with either some light tricep pulls or chest press on the machine.

I always end with sit-ups and 20-25 minutes on the treadmill, mostly just fast walking. Today, I felt good enough to do some light jogging, but I really just enjoy the fast walking.

My cousin in Seattle gave me some good tips on working out, particularly in doing a balanced workout. He said if you just concentrate on chest, it’ll throw your back out of balance, and vice-versa. So, I tend to do both areas on the same workout day. Since I don’t use very heavy weights, I’ll even do the same workout two or three days in a row. Plus, I never know when I’ll be able to get to the gym.

Right now, I’m writing this from my girlfriend’s downtown loft, which is equipped with a pretty nice gym, not to mention being empty most of the time. My membership at Bally’s ran out in September and it couldn’t have been sooner. That place is just too crowded for the money you pay. Plus, I got my wallet stolen from a locker. It’s just not worth it for me to pay to get ripped off and frustrated.

My print agent just called and asked if I had a theatrical agent. I said no, so she gave me some info on a casting for tomorrow. It’s nonunion but since I’m not doing anything very productive, I might as well see what it’s about. And hey, if it pays anything, I can always renounce my union membership, or what is called “Financial Core.” This just means you are declaring yourself both a member and independent of the Screen Actors Guild. You still pay the dues, still get any residual income you’re due, but you don’t get voting privileges. Who cares about that?

This past award season, I hardly got any freebies such as DVDs and screenings, so I don’t really care about that stuff. Anyway, we’ll see what this casting is all about tomorrow. It’s at CBS.

Celebrities without Makeup

J. Lo and Diana Ross are my favorites on this thing.

Spring Cleaning

We're heading into spring soon and I thought I'd get a jump on it by doing my annual Master Cleanse. To tell you the truth, I think I skipped last year, but I know that I had at least intended to do it.

I know I've been due for a thorough cleaning. My torso is nothing like it used to be, and way bigger than it was just one year ago. That cruise I took was an all-you-can-eat obesity fest and, to make matters worse, I just went to Todai last weekend for all-you-can-eat sushi. Actually, I did pretty good at Todai. I just stuck with sushi, sashimi, crab legs and a small bowl of hot rice.

My goal is to shed about 6-8 pounds of fat, so I'm aiming at losing a whopping 12-15 pounds of general weight including water. Not easy to do. I've reduced the amount of maple syrup by one-third.

If you're interested in this sort of thing, go to this link for the pdf and read the entire thing before considering the fast. Then, if you need more info, I can direct you to some other resources and also give my personal experience on it. My current cleanse is my 4th one, fyi. I'd share my experience here but since it's my 4th, I'd probably roll over a few details. It's much better to document your first time.

I know a couple people who promote this cleanse like it's a miracle diet, but I must be truthful here: It's no walk in the park. The thing is rough to do. It takes a couple weeks to mentally prepare for it. You need to go out and buy all the ingredients, and if it's your first time, it's like an Easter egg hunt trying to find everything.

Then there's the bowel movements. You folks know I don't mind talking about my BMs, but these BMs are all-consuming since that's what this thing is all about. You want to shit and shit and shit, and when you think you've shit all you can shit, you try to shit some more. Your tongue gets pasty white, your body stinks, your hair gets stringy, and you become paranoid that you might wet your pants while driving to work in the morning.

These are the bad things. The good things are many, but you have to read about them in that pdf.

I once sent out an evite to about 40 people to try this thing one summer. More than half of those tried it with only about three having to quit a few days into it. But afterward, nearly everyone agreed, it was something they needed to do and they were glad they had the opportunity to do it.

Of those who didn't do it, some went on and did it on their own time, or in their own evited group. And then some of those who did it with me went on to pass it on to their groups, meanwhile forgetting to invite me to do it with them. (Don't you hate not being invited for things?)

But here I am again, this time alone, doing the cleanse. Why? Because my body has been telling me, "It's about time, dude."

Sanjuro

I watched a samurai movie called Sanjuro last night on DVD. It's a Kurosawa film and stars a couple of my favorite samurai actors, Toshiro Mifune and Tatsuya Nakadai. I've been watching a lot of samurai flicks lately, mostly because I rented one on Netflix and then they kept recommending other ones I'd never heard of. Whatever marketing program that is, it's pretty effective on me.

But there is another reason I've been watching, and I thought I may have mentioned it on this blog before. Apparently not.

For the last couple of months, I've been studying what's called tate, or samurai techniques. Tate is not an art or do, but rather a couple of katas (forms) and some action sequences we learn for the stage or camera. In samurai movies, there's generally always a main samurai fighting a bunch of hoodlums. Rarely is there a one-on-one duel, but in a typical samurai sword fight, it's over after about 3 moves.

I had a lot of trepidation over taking the class at first. I didn't want to look bad, of course. And it turns out, I'm not half-bad. It's probably the Jeet Kune Do lessons that came into play, especially because Bruce Lee borrowed some things from samurai that I wasn't aware of before. For one, the basic footwork of JKD is all samurai, while the JKD onguard stance is either from fencing or samurai, which is about the same.

Anyway, I've decided to move on in my learning to now find another, more advanced samurai class. Not sure where to look, but I'm pretty sure I'm ready for it. Another class I'm planning to take is something called kyudo, or Zen archery. Apparently, a teacher from Ojai, Calif., is visiting L.A. for a one-day intensive.

Next on the list? I'm hoping for sashimi lessons. Is it because I want to train to look like an authentic sushi chef? Or maybe I want to take on a different vocation or even start a business? Nah, I just purely enjoy cutting fish. I've taken part in dozens of sushi parties. I just want to learn to do it right.

After all, the great Musashi instructed young samurai to make a thousand strokes a day. I might as well make mine while cutting lunch or dinner.

One Explanation

I was on the Mexican Riviera last week for a post-Valentine's cruise with the girlfriend. It was great. She paid for it, too. Can you believe that? I'm a pretty lucky dude, methinks.

We stopped first in Puerto Vallarta and went on a 4-hour "expert hike" through the Sierra Madre mountains. It was somewhat difficult, but with the help of Chinese herbs, plenty of water, Nike Dri-Fit clothes, and a couple of bananas, we did pretty freakin' well on it.

The hike was behind a poor Mexican village at the skirt of the mountain, and it was strange to get so close to it, since most of the homes were constructed—how should I say it?—without homebuilding skill. Apparently, from the bus tour, many of the buildings in PV are built by using mud and bricks. That's pretty scary.

We hiked over a ridge and then down to the valley where a river ran through it. Now here's where I think it's weird. We had to walk across the river a couple times, in our bare feet or with our shoes. I didn't want to ruin my shoes, so I took them off and attempted to walk on my feet. Oh shit, those rocks hurt. I could barely get across it. Meanwhile everyone, except this overweight Asian guy and me, had crossed and had already put their shoes back on. Oh, I should mention that most went across with their shoes on. Wusses.

Before the trip, I insisted to my girlfriend that I needed to bring aqua socks. She didn't know why, since Mexican beaches aren't rocky like European ones. After some debate, I decided she was right. Well, it turns out that aqua socks would've really come in handy. She knows how delicate my little feet can be. Anyway, that's the only weird thing about it. I know, it's not that weird, so I'll get over it already.

After the second river crossing, we got onto a waiting bus for the drive back to the ship. Then after showering and getting dressed, we went into town for a shrimp dinner. Dinner was great, but the service was slow, and I believe it's because we're not white Americans. Asians are either terrible customers, or they don't tip much. We tipped them about 10%, so that makes us typical.

Our next two stops were in Mazatlan and Cabo San Lucas, both really beautiful port cities. I'm not sure which one is better, but they made me not want to go back to PV ever again.

At Cabo, I went snorkeling in front of a resort hotel. We also drank several beers, ate some more shrimp, and had chips & salsa. On the way back to the ship, we had the bus drop us off in the shopping area where we bought some souvenirs. I insisted we have a round of tequila shots and share a dark beer. When I sucked on a lime wedge, my girlfriend pointed out that it was wet with water. That worried me quite a bit. And sure enough, about a couple hours after getting back on the boat, I got the shits. Major, major shits, man. I shit all night. Couldn't even sleep more than 10 minutes without worrying if I shit in my pants.

Later on, after taking some diarrhea medicine, I got major, major farts, all the friggin' time. Oh, it was major. Later, after watching some information on TV in our room, it seemed like I may have gotten a stomach virus called norovirus, which is common on cruise ships since it's so contagious. One of our servers in the main dining room got sick on the third day of the cruise, and I think it was her who may have infected me. It takes 24-36 hours for norovirus to fully affect you. Symptoms also include headache, nausea and light fever. I had them all.

Anyway, I'm not saying this was my shit-dream-come-true just yet, just an early explanation for it.

Oh, by the Way...

I had this major, major shit dream about a week ago. Nothing's happened yet, and I hate anticipating things. I only had one print audition, for Nokia, and also went to a callback for it. But so far, haven't heard a thing from them. Plus, if my dream was so major, I don't know how the Nokia job would fit in. It's only for about $1600.

If you're curious how my dream went, read on. If not, I'd suggest you stop now.

I was back home in Seattle, at my folk's house. The entire family was there, each in their prospective rooms. I had to use the bathroom—bad! But after checking each bathroom (there were three), none were available, so I shat in my pants.

To make things more silly, I went around to each room and showed each of my brothers, sisters and parents what I had done, and they were—get this—pleased!

Right after that, I woke up, checked my underwear and ran to the bathroom. Nope, I hadn't shat in my underwear—in real life. Just in my dream.

And as you know, I absolutely don't mind when that happens.

Two-Minute Analysis

I used to do this thing called the two-minute analysis—emphasis on “used to.” I would usually be involved in conversation with someone, sometimes over the phone, most times in person, and often times at a diner.

The two-minute analysis never starts by itself. It usually is initiated by a spark, somewhere in my head and completely out of nowhere, followed by me saying to the other person, “I have this thing called the two-minute analysis.” And with the other person’s permission, as well as a disclaimer saying that it’s just to be taken with a grain of salt and that I am truly not a mind reader or psychic, I begin to give this person my analysis of him or her, often citing instances in this person’s history to back up my analysis. All this happens, of course, within two minutes.

I stopped doing it after many successful sessions when I realized, one, I have nothing to gain from doing these things; two, I have much to lose in terms of friendships, trusts and the like; and, three, a girl whom I had performed an analysis on copied my entire spiel and began performing these “I have this thing called the two-minute analysis. I’m not a mind reader or psychic, and you should take this with a grain of salt” things with other people.

How I know about the girl performing these on other people happened by accident, when I told this guy that “I have this thing,” blah, blah, blah. He then shot back that someone else told him that exact, same line. When I asked who it was, he told me her name, and then we had a big laugh after I informed him that I had done the analysis on her many years ago. And that was how she probably came to do it on others. After that, I decided to hang up my analyst’s uniform and keep my little sparks of initiation to myself.

I like keeping them to myself, in fact, and I have much more trusting relationships with friends, strangers and the like. One thing that I miss about the “TMA,” as I shall now refer to it, is that it often stripped a woman naked, right before my eyes, and then sometimes later in the bedroom or car, be it as it may.

But therapist-patient relationships are not to be trusted nor encouraged, as most shrinks would instruct you, probably out of personal experience. Thankfully, I only slept with a small percentage of my patients. To explain this, you’d have to imagine yourself not liking or trusting someone who used to be very close or intimate with you. Let’s call it a one-night stand, except you don’t remember actually sleeping with that person. So now, when you see him or her at an event, you don’t remember the intimacy at all. All you remember is the discomfort or dislike of seeing this person.

Why? Probably because this person undressed you in a diner, or over the phone, and it was with your permission. Plus, this person didn’t exactly take off his or her clothes as well. He or she just gawked at you for some sadistic satisfaction, looking over your entire naked body as if it were on display at a museum. And try as you might to put your clothes back on, you realize that the sculptor had sculpted you that way and that putting on clothes was not an option.

Recently, I’ve been giving myself these little TMAs, almost on a regular basis. And I must say, I’m not liking the interrogation much, either.

(Korean) American Idol

Gotta show some support for the Asian brother in American Idol. But why the stupid clip from William what's-his-name? Anyway...

'Little Fish' Trailer

Here's a trailer for an indie flick called Little Fish starring Dustin Nguyen. He's sporting a British accent and menacing/seducing a nice English lady (and great actor), Cate Blanchett. Not sure if this was released yet.

A Talent Worth Stealing

Came across this video and I thought it's something I could learn when I'm not doing something productive. Some day, you'll see me doing this on a commercial, I bet you...

CSI: Miami One-Liners

Cue the sunglasses, deliver the line.

This is one of my favorite videos right now, and I don't even like David Caruso. Someone put a lot of work into this.

Dustin Nguyen

Most folks who grew up during the '80s will remember the Asian dude on "21 Jump Street." No, I'm not talking about Johnny Depp, who isn't, as far as I'm informed, Asian or French Vietnamese, despite the similarities to the name, Diep.

Dustin Nguyen (pronounced "when") has been a working actor for a long fricking time, and I've met him on at least 3 occasions. The first time was at a house party in the Hollywood hills. The other times were at events. Each time we've met, he's done this limp hand thing with his fingertips.

For some of you, that might mean he doesn't have a firm handshake. But for those who grew up in the Disco era of the '70s, that most surely means you're gay. In fact, it was a signal, much more reliable than the earring in the left or right ear (depending on which coast you're from).

So Dustin gives me this limp handshake each time, and each time I'm thinking, he certainly seems like he could be gay, especially with his skin-tight Versace leopard-skin jeans, but I think he's faking it. In fact, I know he's faking it. Why he's faking it with me, well, that's something I need to ponder further. But the absolute fact is, he's married and is happily straight. But, I suppose, gaily social.

Same thing must be said for Russell Wong, that actor of notable fame. I've met him several times and have always concluded he's faking his gayness. For one, I know he's had a few children in his lifetime with different women. He's also recently married.

So does this mean I have gaydar? I think it means it takes a straight guy to know another straight guy isn't gay. Well, something like that.

Anyway, both of those guys will be going (separately, of course) to a party in a couple weeks that I am also attending. I'll see if the act remains.

Then again, it may just be me who's noticing.

Daniel Dae Kim

If you've seen ABC's show "Lost," you're probably familiar with the Korean-speaking guy on the show. That's Daniel and I've known him for years. I'm not exactly close friends with him, but we're on a first-name basis with each other. Plus, his wife and my sister-in-law were schoolmates (in Boston, I think).

Anyway, I used to work for a Korean magazine and Daniel's wife also worked as a graphic designer there before Daniel became a constantly working actor. And, from time to time, I'd see him at a commercial or print audition, the last one being a national UPS commercial.

If you look back in the archives, I may have mentioned this UPS casting before. Daniel and I were among the top 4 called in for a callback. He was looking sharp, and I mean, as a tack. His demeanor, charm and professionalism were 100% on. I remember just thinking I was proud to be considered with this group. The other two guys, by the way, included Chris Tashima, whom I've mentioned on this blog before, and the guy (name unknown) who actually booked the job.

Before seeing the commercial air during a major broadcast of a football game, I had pretty much decided in my mind that it was Daniel who booked the job. The dude was that confident, ya know? And I most certainly shrank in his presence.

Okay, I must clarify something here. I'm no shrinking violet. I don't have a tiny presence. I can be pretty substantial when I want to be. But I just have to say that at this particular casting, I shrank like a penis in cold water as soon as I saw who I was up against. This probably explains why I haven't booked a whole lot of union commercials. To get in the major leagues, you've got to play like a major leaguer. Or at least hit one out of the ballpark when the scouts are looking.

Problem is, I haven't a clue what that feeling is like. I've never hit one when it mattered. The only major league action I've performed was when the scouts weren't looking.

But here's one little bit of action I am good at: At the afterparty for last year's Asian Excellence Awards (AXA), I was hanging out with my actor friend, Jason Scott Lee. Before leaving the function to get some food at Al's Diner on Sunset Blvd., he wanted to say hello to Daniel Dae Kim. Right then, I sensed some uncomfortable feelings on Jason's part. I mean, he's not used to being the one who has to introduce himself to someone. Even though they've met before, they just weren't too familiar with each other.

So here's where I stepped in, without missing a beat. "Hey, Daniel, you remember Jason, right?" I said to Daniel.

"Oh, sure, hey Jason. How you doing?" he said. And then I stepped away and let them talk.

Well, at least I have good social skills.

Turn of Events

I just got early word from my inside sources at the office that I am to get a pink slip tomorrow. Well, me and about a dozen others, apparently.

Today, I spent most of the afternoon cleaning out my personal files from the computer I use, dumping all the passwords and cookies I have stored in web browsers, and beginning the process of cleaning out my shelves.

At the lobby to the elevator, I ran into the CEO, who doesn't know I know. He asked what was in my two plastic grocery bags. I told him, "groceries."

I have a commercial audition tomorrow for a hardware chain. Last Thursday, I had one for TGIFridays. Pretty amazing I'm getting commercial auditions at all.

And that print job I booked last week? It went pretty smoothly. Spent a few hours taking pictures inside the Disney Concert Hall in Downtown L.A. Just your run-of-the-mill photo shoot.

Anyway, I'll be walking out of that office tomorrow just like I walked in 11 months ago: a professional. It was good while it lasted.

First S**t Dream of 2007

The other night, I had another one of my famous shit dreams. As usual, I woke up not really certain it was a shit dream. But sure enough, later that day, I got a call that I had booked a print job for some investment services company.

But here's the interesting thing: Shit dreams are usually symbolic of royal payoffs. This particular print job doesn't pay more than my usual day rate. It's hardly worth dreaming about. But there's a reason for the discrepancy. Before being confirmed for the job, I was told by my agent that there may be an "exclusivity" clause added to the rate. And this exclusivity rate would make this particular print job my biggest-paying one ever!

Let me put it this way. The day rate I mentioned? Well, the commission I'd pay to my agent for the exclusivity rate would be almost double my entire day rate.

That's a shit dream payoff, my friends.

Da-Ming

There's this guy I used to run into named Da-Ming. He's Chinese from China or Hong Kong but he spoke English pretty well. Handsome guy, and as such, it turned out he was an actor and stuntman as well. When he introduced himself to people, he would say his name firmly and proudly, "I'm Da-Ming."

This was about 14 years ago, when the industry was a different beast, especially for Asians and Asian Americans. As mentioned before, I was a journalist and magazine editor before, and so I met most of the Asian celebrities when I first arrived in L.A. During the same time, I also met a lot of actor/actress wannabes, most of whom had no screen or stage presence, and very few of them were what you'd consider handsome or pretty.

I learned that most Asian celebrities weren't much different than me. And I learned that most actor/actress wannabes were different from me in one way: They were all trying to do what most people didn't have the guts to attempt.

But back to Da-Ming. Da-Ming had a certain kind of air to him. I think he truly believed he was meant for greatness and his path to it would be a short one. And so every step he took, every gesture he made looked like a grand performance meant for a camera somewhere.

I should also mention that Da-Ming would occasionally display a different sort of air. A get-in-your-face-and-challenge-you- to-a-pissing-contest kind of air. I never had to confront that challenge with him since I was typically cool with him. And whenever I'd bump into him, he always remembered my name.

One of his claims to fame was that he had done the Mandarin voiceover for Russell Wong in The Joy Luck Club. But other than that, I don't think he did a whole lot of work. And so he headed back to HK. Hadn't seen nor heard from him in years. Until one day, when I was watching the DVD for Kill Bill. On one of the behind-the-scenes shorts, there was Daming, working as one of the crew members.

And soon after seeing that, I ran into him at a film festival in L.A. "Hey, man! I saw you in the Kill Bill DVD," I told him.

He said, "Yeah? I worked on that in Hong Kong."

"As an actor?"

"No, just crew."

"Oh." And that was pretty much the extent of the conversation. Sorry, folks, there's no big ending to it. Did he remember my name? Doubt it. But he remembered my face, and either he was trying to recall my name or how he knew me during our conversation, or he was embarrassed to be talking about the DVD. As actors headed for greatness tend to be, they don't like to talk about being the Hong Kong crew member on a DVD behind-the-scenes feature.

Then again, maybe he thought I was challenging him to a pissing contest.

More Print Auds

Yesterday, I went to an audition for a health insurer. Today, it was for Verizon, again.

Yup, this must be my 3rd one this year for Verizon. One of them I booked and got my fitting at the W hotel, which they also paid for me to attend.

Today's audition was weird. I went in to the room with 4 other guys and we all got the typical "hold your name slate for the camera under your chin" treatment. Then the guy put us all on video.

As you may remember, I've been saying that all these print auds have been shooting video as well as stills. I'm sure there are reasons behind it, but at today's thing, they asked for our SAG status. Not sure why, but when we went on camera, they asked us to say a line two different ways. And then, with the other 4 guys, they all did the line two different ways.

Very unusual audition for a print job. Next we'll be asked to improv a scene.

The Manifestation

So, it really WAS a shit dream! Like I said, I don't have these too often. But when I do, whammo!

This time, it wasn't a job, but it is job related. I was anticipating it would be a residual check or some sort of reuse fee for an old commercial or print ad. Nope. Nada.

Apparently, the accounting department at my office has been paying me on a 20-day basis, versus the actual 22-day work calendar. Accountants know this, or should know it. So, I think the guy was actually trying to cheat me out of 2 days' pay each month.

I've been there about 9 months now, so I got 18 days of pay coming to me next month as a bonus. Well, not really, since I earned it. But it sort of feels like one. And then my monthly salary should go up 2 days' pay as well, so I've given myself a raise, sort of.

I know, I know. It's nothing to brag about. I'm actually getting what I should've been getting already, but still...it counts for something, right?

Anyway, I'm taking it. Anything to make my sorry ass feel better is worth the while.

Another S**t Dream

Did I mention I love shit dreams? I mentioned I had one to my girlfriend last week and she said some people have dreams of stepping in shit. Me? I have dreams of actually shitting, usually on a toilet.

It's a weird dream, because when you wake up, you sort of check yourself to see if you actually did it while you were sleeping. Generally, it's not the case, so then you wake up, remember you had the shit dream, and then you're all smiles. Why? Because shit dreams equal a serious windfall in cash. No question about it. Every time I've had one, I've been delivered a suitcase of it.

Last Friday, I had an audition for a commercial. It was for HSBC Bank, and it turns out I was there for the 2nd round of interviews, even though it was my first. Truthfully, I didn't think anything of it. I was playing a dad who plays a violent video game while his son goes outside and does the real thing on the street. Then he comes back home and I'm still playing the game.

Turns out, I got a callback for it on Tuesday. It was during the afternoon, so I used the excuse of "going out to vote" to get out from work early. Worked like a charm, that one.

There were 3 other fathers there, and 3 boys to play their sons. My son hadn't showed up yet. In fact, he was already an hour late, and I had to plug in some extra quarters in my meter.

To make this short, I know I had a pretty good callback audition, but I don't know how they thought of the kid. Personally, I didn't think he was into it. Just sort of half-assing the action. And I'm sure the folks in the casting room thought so too.

Then again, I'm also trying to give myself some excuse for not getting the commercial. (It's supposed to shoot tomorrow, fyi.)

But what about that shit dream?

Yeah... what about it?

School Teacher Slash Actor

I went to a print aud the other day at Cole Studios. This was a Danny Goldman casting and if you know anything about casting, you've probably visited this office a few times in your life. I booked only one job here and it was for a national commercial for Kyocera. It aired and aired and aired. Unfortunately, it was before I joined SAG, so yeah, it was non-union.

Anyway, I ran into a few people I knew at the print aud. One guy was someone I'm sure I mentioned before here. I used to sublet a house from him about 12 years ago. Man, that was a long time ago. He told me he has a 37-year-old daughter. That's just a few years younger than me. I guess that means he's old enough to be my dad!

Well, this guy then went on to say he's a school teacher and that his principal has called him 3 times. Apparently, he was supposed to be teaching a class at that hour and, not only that, he was due to administer a test that day.

So I'm thinking, "Man, that's f'd up! If he was my teacher, I wouldn't appreciate him going out on auditions when he supposed to be an example for us students." Well, something like that.

But then I started thinking about the character, or lack thereof, of actors in general, and you know what? They're selfish, flaky assholes who only care a rat's ass about their own well being.

There, I said it. Cat's out of the bag. I feel much better, getting that off my chest.

Now, if only I can be less of a selfish, flaky asshole....

Couldn't Resist Posting This

Apparently, this is from an audition. Pretty sad. But I'm not laughing too loud. I auditioned a couple times as a martial artist. Boy, did I suck!!

Here's Aaron Again

I talked to Aaron and he said these spots were supposed to be for Internet and non-TV use only. I don't know what SAG rates are for Internet usage, but I know they suck. I think the hosting website charges at least 25 cents per actual click for a regular banner ad and it's gotta be more for a video ad.

Aaron said that since a private user posted these on break.com, he probably won't see a dime more than what the contract paid him. Still, the exposure has got to be unbeatable.

Aaron has a myspace page and he said he doesn't think this spot is as funny. I agree. I think what would've made more sense is if he stopped holding his dick and looked under the stalls to see if anyone else heard him rap.

Supporting Another Friend

A friend, Annie Lee, spent a couple years of her life on this movie, from the movie poster to the editing to promoting and starring in it. Well, now it's on DVD.

No, I'm not in this. But I did try to give as much advice on the one-sheet (movie poster) that I could, given my experience with this stuff. (She ended up not taking any of my advice, fyi. Oh well.) I got to see the movie at the premiere here in L.A.

My Improv Teacher

Aaron Takahashi, my improv instructor, is blowin' up, at least with national TV commercials. Just saw this spot (hope it embeds right) on the video site, break.com. The spot is sponsored by Amp'd, so I hope Aaron gets paid per view.

Funny stuff, Aaron T!!

Print Auds

I met a South Asian dude at a print audition the other day. He seemed pretty naive about the industry and had a million questions. Mostly, though, he was hopeful to book a commercial with a big payoff. Who knows what got him in the business, but he seemed pretty intent on booking something big.

Sort of reminds me of myself, when I was just getting my feet wet. Ah, those were the days. I didn't know any better, and so I just kept dreaming about the big payoffs. Now, that I'm a seasoned pro (yeah, right), I don't have those kind of dreams. It must've showed in my words, I suppose.

He asked how often I audition. I said a couple times a week for print, and much less often for commercials. I told him it was probably my agent, but who knows? It could be me, right?

I do know one thing. I go out a lot for print, and not so much for commercials. Go figure. Surely, must be my agent.

Today, I went out for a print aud for one of the cell phone manufacturers. This one is a worldwide buyout for 2 years. And because of that, it pays a whopping $8,500! Yeah, I liked that prospect, a lot! It sort of makes those auds at 3:00 for a measley $500 payoff seem not so bad.

So I went in, did my thing, and then went to work. Before dashing off, I picked up some freelance work across the street for one of the Hollywood unions. That kind of work is a sure thing, but it's those dreamy payoffs that make me get up a half hour earlier and primp like a teenager.

On second thought, I'm hardly any different from that South Asian guy. Just a few more years under my belt, so to speak.

Doggy Medicine

So I had another photo shoot. This one for a dog medication, in which I play -- what else? -- a vet. (I'd spell that out, but I'm too lazy to look the word up.)

It was a quick shoot on a Saturday afternoon. My second one with this casting/production company. The first one was for Union Bank of California, which is apparently live now. So, if you should see this Asian guy on a billboard somewhere -- oh, wait, there's a few of them. I'm the one with the glasses.

This last shoot was my first one with my new short haircut. Of course, it's been about 6 weeks now since I had a haircut. But still, I look different than I usually do. Which worried me that, maybe, I wouldn't be able to book a job.

So, this latest booking confirms one of two things: either I'm still capable of booking jobs, or I've officially become very plain. Actually, I'm hoping it's both of those.

In many of the advertising or marketing companies I've worked for, many of the pictures they use are of very plain folk, but with nice smiles, a sparkle in their eye, or a certain attractive air about them. But none of them looked like models.

No, I've never quite been model material, but I have lost jobs because I was "too good-looking" for the job. One of these was for a U.S. postman. Today, I'm pretty sure I'd book that job.

Now Where Was I?

Man, it's been over a month since my last entry. Either time has really been flying by or I'm just not giving a shit about my observations lately.

But last Sunday morning, I went on this Orienteering hike/competition for a friend's birthday party. There were a few actor friends there, including the birthday guy's wife, Jodi Fung, who looks amazingly great considering she had a kid last year.

Another actor friend, Jeanne Chinn, was out for the task as well, and I might as well explain the whole thing here.

Orienteering is sort of a sport that uses a topographical map, which is one of those maps that shows how the landscape is laid out on a piece of paper. Things are drawn to scale, and it includes such details as heavy brush, cliffs, roads, fences, almost down to the horse shit on the path.

There are several course challenges, usually involving time to complete the course, and also accumulating the most points for finding things called "controls." The controls are worth different point values, depending on their distance from the start or their difficulty to find.

By the way, everyone stresses the need for a compass, but I didn't use one and I don't think you need one as long as you have an idea of where north or south is. I mean, it's not exactly like being dropped from a plane in the middle of the forest and finding your way to the nearest drop zone planted with munitions. (Sorry, I loved "Band of Brothers.")

You're usually grouped with three others, and my group included the Chinese twins from "Big Fish," Ada and Arlene Tai, as well as Ada's boyfriend, Tian. Oh, and by the way, while they are actually identical twins, they aren't Siamese twins, as depicted in the movie. I found out, also, that one of them hasn't yet seen the movie. Not sure why because I thought it was a great movie and one of the worst-promoted by Miramax. I mean, Miramax has promoted lesser movies during awards season. Why not this one?

Anyway, now where was I? Oh yeah, on Griffith Park, hiking around with three people, looking for markers using a topographical map. We stuck to a strategy that, in hindsight, wasn't so strategic. We went for the big point markers first, then went after the smaller ones on the way back to the finish (which is also the starting point). But we were so tuckered out at the end, we were just taking a light stroll back down the hill to the finish.

Yup, two hours is a long time...to figure out how out of shape you are.

But I will mention this bit of insight if you plan to such an activity: Look for the marker before climbing down a hill. I did the mistake of climbing down two embankments looking for a marker. The first wasn't so bad but the second one almost got me in trouble. Seriously, if I was any more out of shape than I am, I'd be still there right now on that hill.

All markers are pretty much visible from the path you walk on. Only a couple take a little effort to find, but because they consider safety a priority, you'd never have to climb down a steep embankment first in order to see it. Wish I knew that on Sunday.

Oh, also take plenty of sunscreen (and water) with you. Otherwise you're gonna get fried out there.

Naked Torso

Yesterday, I was in Little Tokyo having some food and then, later, some drinks with my girlfriend at the Far Bar in the back of the Far East Cafe. During our third round of chilled Patron shots, I got a call on my cell. It was an actor friend who is producing her colleague’s short film, and she thought I might fit one of the parts, mostly because of one reason: my torso.

Apparently, my not-too-young or -skinny torso fit what she was looking for. I even tried to “push” her onto a mutual friend/actor who is in better shape than I, but she was convinced she needed me and my torso for the part, and refused to take “no” for an answer.

That’s when the Patron shots turned sour. Or, maybe it was just the lime wedge. But regardless, my girlfriend didn’t like the idea of someone—anyone—looking at or filming my naked torso.

Now, this wasn’t really a problem. I’m fairly sensitive to the matter at hand. And before even telling her about the phone call, I prefaced it by saying, “Your opinion means most to me, so I’ll do what you decide.”

She immediately said no, which I expected. Sure, I could’ve saved a step by just refusing the part, but the woman on the phone wasn’t taking a no very easily, like I mentioned, so I had to at least go through the process.

Before calling my friend back, we got into a discussion about it, then an argument, then a full-on fight over it. Sure, tequila can raise the heat in any argument, but this was no longer just an argument. It was getting ugly, involving a couple of friends at the bar who had the misfortune of walking into the middle of it.

So why am I writing about this? To shame my girlfriend? No. Not at all. She had every right to defend the naked torso of her boyfriend from anyone else’s eyes.

But here’s the thing: If you’re an Asian in Hollywood, good luck on having a relationship. It will never be easy, even when you’re no longer young or skinny.

Because no matter how big the favor, or how close the friend you’re doing it for, asking your significant other for their advice or permission to do a scene involving anything intimate is like, well, let me put it this way: It’d be easier trying to get your girlfriend to do anal.

New York Stories, Part 4: And More Shopping

I once went to a branding meeting for one of my former clients. The branding specialist asked our group what brand of toothpaste we used. Turns out, it's a sure indication of the kind of "consumer character" you are.

For instance, if you buy Crest or Colgate, you're probably a brand loyalist, and you've probably used the same brand since you were a child. But if you use Tom's, Aquafresh, or something like that, you're more likely to try new things. And if you use Mentadent, like I do, you're in this category of "no brand loyalty whatsoever." Which is good, if you're a new brand, but bad if you're an old brand. For the record, I also use Rembrandt.

I guess this means I like to try new things. And, I don't base my decision to use something on just brand loyalty alone. It has to have any number of things, including quality, effectiveness, sometimes price is a factor, and generally I like something that is both really new and really good, making it also really unique.

I also don't get caught up in advertising, critical acclaim, promos, or endorsements. I just prefer to figure out whether I like something on my own. Which brings me to Parasuco, a brand I know absolutely nothing about. But the store in Soho was cool, and the product...well, I'll just post my response to someone at the company who was looking for my feedback on the store.

Hi Mary J.,

I'm amazed you found my blog! Yes, I just visited your new store while shopping in SoHo. We were not familiar with New York at all, so everything was new to us. We took a side road to check out some of the street vendors selling handmade jewelry when I spotted the Grand Opening sign of your store and wanted to take a peek.

I'll try to describe the experience the way it took place. A security guard welcomed us in, and then a nice Filipino guy asked if he could hold our shopping bags and took them behind the counter. The store was fairly empty, except for all the salespeople in the store. We did notice, however, that most of the salespeople were young, good-looking Asians and African Americans.

My girlfriend wasn't too interested in looking around, since she's somewhat brand loyal and trusts what she knows. I've always been into what's new, so I began looking around at the sale racks. We were scared it was going to be way too expensive, since the store was in such a beautiful location, with its high ceilings and wide open spaces. But then I started to notice the workmanship in the jeans and T-shirts. They all seemed to have such fine detail and I knew these things could not be done cheaply in some sweatshop. And so I decided to try on a pair of jeans, when I noticed the back pockets were different from any others I had seen.

I've worked in high-end men's retail for 3 years, so I'm familiar with the environment. An Asian girl came to help me find my size. She was very nice and after trying one on, she helped me with other sizes. My girlfriend liked how the jeans looked on me, so after I went back into the dressing room, she went to the racks to look around. She soon found two pairs to try on. She asked my opinion and I loved them. So then she wanted to try on other jeans and shirts. Pretty soon, she had tried on about 10 pairs of jeans and about 8 shirts. In fact, her thumb still hurts from pulling the jeans on and off. Anyway, more people came in to the store and after a while, nearly all the dressing rooms were taken by customers. It was amazing how fast the store filled up. They turned up the music (sort of a Tiesto mix, which I like) and I could see what a nice space that store was with great ambience and acoustics.

Anyway, three pairs of jeans and an hour later, we left the store. We both love the jeans we bought and people in our office (mostly Korean and Chinese, first generation) comment about our jeans and how they love them and where did we get them and when can they check out a store. But I told them what the cashier told me, that one will be open in San Francisco next.

I also asked about the store and the designer and got a little information about that from the cashier.

Anyway, that's my experience there, and I really like the new store.

New York Stories, Part 3: Shopping

You cannot go to New York and NOT visit a discount shopping store. They're ubiquitous, which means they're all over the frickin' place! Daffy's was highly recommended to us by my friend Valerie. The first one we went to, however, was full of Daffy's leftovers. The second and third Daffy's were much better, and I bought about 3 shirts for under $20 each.

Valerie also mentioned Century 21, which is not the insurance company but a building housing one of the biggest discount stores you will ever see. Actually, I only went in and took a peek. It was just too daunting, and we only had 90 minutes before we were set to see Spamalot on Broadway.

I think it was also Valerie who mentioned Macy's, the largest department store on earth apparently. Four blocks and several floors worth of merchandise. I'd hate to do inventory in THAT store!

We also went to H&M, which is coming to Pasadena in a couple months. That place is wild...and cheap! Oh, I should mention it here that every purchase we made under a hundred bucks was tax free. Go figure. I wish they'd do that here in California.

I have this vacation rule I follow just about everywhere I go: I like to buy underwear from the country I visit. This way, I have a nice souvenir that I am reminded of at least once every two weeks. But this vacation, even though it wasn't to a foreign country, had H&M, which is based in Europe, and they had these cool sport boxers that reminded me of the WE store's in Amsterdam. So, I think I bought about 9 pairs.

We also visited Zara, which as you know is one of my favorite stores in Santa Monica. I bought a sweater there.

On Saturday, we finally got to visiting SoHo, but for the life of me, I don't know why we didn't go there on the first day. Man, they have some cool shit there. And tons of sales going on. I went to Kenneth Cole and bought a leather-covered notebook journal with replacement notes for $11.

At some point, we were getting exhausted. But then we saw some street vendors selling handmade jewelry, and ended up spending about a hundred bucks there. It was worth it, though. Some folks sold junk, others sold real cool shit that was at a major discount to what a retail store would charge for the same thing.

It was here that I spotted a store called Parasuco just down the street. There was a big "Grand Opening" sign, and so I suggested we check it out. Someone from that store just emailed me for my input, after she probably did a search and found my blog. So I'll post my response on my next entry. But the shortened version? We ended up spending over an hour there and bought three pairs of kick-ass jeans. Cool location, too.

New York Stories, Part 2: Nobu vs. Pink's

On La Brea & Santa Monica, right in the heart of Hollywood, is a famous, famous place called Pink's. It's a hot dog stand, and you can get one made just about any way you like. Long for a Long Island dog? You got it. Want it kosher? For sure! Willing to wait 90 minutes in line? You go hurry and wait then.

As mentioned, last week I spent about 5 days in New York with the new girlfriend. We stayed at this hotel called Dream. You can look it up at www.dreamny.com. No, I didn't dream much, but it wasn't bad either, and the location was great. The photos, however, look better than in reality.

Which is sort of how my experience with the expensive, exclusive restaurant Nobu went. Okay, I must clarify here. There's Nobu, and then there's Nobu Next Door. Nobu Next Door is for schmucks like me who can't get a reservation at Nobu, or don't want to plan in advance, and then take probably the worst table in the room. Nobu Next Door is slightly cheaper, and it's doubtful you will ever see a famous face in the room, other than your own. Plus, if you ARE a schmuck like me, you'll even wait 90 minutes to get a table there!

I have two L.A. friends who highly recommended Nobu/Next Door. The first is my AD friend. Apparently, he was working on K-19 with Harrison Ford a few years ago in Nova Scotia. He had a weekend off and decided to see New York. So, he asked Mr. Ford's people to make some phone calls, and they did, securing a table for two at the lovely Nobu Restaurant. That's how you do it, folks. You get the royal treatment, or you go next door, like me.

My other friend may or may not have actually visited NND, but he talked like he had, as he usually talks. But he pointed out that Nobu and NND both share the same kitchen. Both are rated highly and they are always in the Top-10 lists. Everyone talks about them like they're frickin' in the Garden of Earthly Delights. And so I insisted to the GF we go there, despite her heavy pleas to go to Gotham Bar & Grill.

But for the record, I've been to at least 5 restaurants here in Los Angeles that are way more interesting, and frankly, way better in quality than NND. Not to mention way cheaper.

I'll name two: Fat Fish and Arado. Both have Korean owners, by the way. Arado is in Koreatown and serves the best chirashi I've ever eaten. Fat Fish is in West Hollywood, and EVERYTHING on Nobu Next Door's menu is available there, but at slightly HIGHER prices.

At Fat Fish, I recommend the shrimp tempura appetizer, seaweed salad, albacore carpaccio, and everything on their sushi menu. Even the dessert is fantastic. I can't remember what we ordered, but there were two of them, and they were incredible. We couldn't resist sharing a bottle of Sapporo with the tempura. And throughout dessert, we each had three rounds of chilled Patron shots. (Yup, they have a full liquor license!)

R23, which is also in my top 5 here in L.A., does a kick-ass chirashi for lunch, but that's not what you go there for. You go there to impress a date, not only for your taste in food and decor, but for the fact that you know how to get to a place that is nearly impossible for a visiting tourist to find.

I also like Zen Grill, the one on 3rd near the Beverly Center and across from that overpriced yuppie place, Sushi Roku. And then there's the ever-dependable Mishima, which has gone downhill, but is always great for what they do best: noodles. I can also name the Japanese restaurant at the New Otani Hotel, Thousand Cranes, and Daikokuya ramen, both in Little Tokyo. Thousand Cranes has unbeatable ambience with a beautiful Japanese garden outside, as well as a Kobe beef sukiyaki or shabu shabu. Daikokuya is simply the best for ramen in L.A., hands down.

Now where were we? Oh yeah. Dissing Nobu Next Door. I can't say how Nobu is, nor can I say I've ever eaten at Matsuhisa. But someone who names those places as their favorites either has money to burn, or knows too little to really name a good place without risking the shame of naming something that hasn't been critically (and celebrity) acclaimed.

Me and my lovely partner ordered the Chilean sea bass, sashimi salad with Matsuhisa sauce, four shrimp tempuras, two string bean and two asparagus tempuras, several nigirizushis (uni, Japanese mackerel, albacore with asparagus, eel) as well as dessert. They also lay claim to some exclusive sakes, which doesn't make sense, because the one we ordered (Onigoroshi) is the same that we order at Mishima, Fat Fish and the place I go to on Tuesday nights, Miro Sake House.

But the real topper here is when the waiter asked if we wanted to order flat water. Now, I love my waters, and, I love most bottled FLAT waters, but particularly Evian's and Pellegrino's. But my absolute favorite is Vittel, which is hard to get here in the States. Also, I'm from Seattle, which has excellent tap water, and I think the water from those public fountains all around Italy are delicious. So, when the waiter brought back an ordinary bottle of Fiji, me and the GF just about lost it!

The waiter placed the Fiji water in a nice square metal holder, but that still didn't make it any fancier. (Someone please tell me they serve better water at Nobu!!! And, by the way, do they even make a Fiji with bubbles?)

As for the food, I'd say the Chilean sea bass was very good, but it's hard to screw up Chilean sea bass. The sashimi salad had way too much Matsuhisa sauce, which I swear tastes similar to Trader Joe's teriyaki sauce. The shrimp tempura was frickin' bad, bad, bad, especially compared to the ones at Fat Fish. The uni was alright, but most of the sushi was just subpar. I'm surprised they even serve it. It seems like merely an afterthought there. The dessert was so bad we left most of it on the plate.

Now despite the food, here's my greatest critique. You know those little chopstick placeholders? NND uses some type of black rock, which you can find at any landscaper's shop. However, my chopsticks, no matter how carefully and delicately I placed them, kept sliding off the rock. It was so stupid I finally just put the rock aside and rested my chopsticks on my plate, which my GF thought was just rude and insulting.

And she was right. After all, the devil is in the details, and NND needs to be a bigger devil than this Hollywood Asian. That's for sure.

Now going back to Pink's. Same long wait. Same notoriety. Different menus. Big difference in price. But at least I can understand Pink's. Plus, they treat you just like any other schmuck with $10 to spare.

Nobu Next Door? No thanks. Next time, we're going to Gotham Bar & Grill. Same price as Nobu, but without the hassle. And I probably won't get bitchslapped by my girlfriend afterward.

Update on Those Commercials

A few posts ago, I talked about the two TV spots my office did. Well, it turns out the client didn't like the one I didn't like, and neither did the CEO here at the office. Okay, that doesn't make sense. Basically, the CEO at my office and I see eye-to-eye on how crappy the commercial was acted and executed. And the client for which it was made also nixed it, so, the spot won't air. $250,000 down the crapper.

Actually, I don't know how much they spent on the production. I know for a fact that with my producing, writing and acting experience, combined with my friend's directing and assistant directing experience, we could come up with a better spot for less than $50k. Anyway, I sure hope they didn't spend $250k.

New York Stories, Part I

I just got back from a 5-day trip to New York. It was my first time there, and I must say that I enjoyed nearly every New York minute. But first of all, what the heck is a "New York minute"? I've heard that phrase all my life, and for the life of me, I can't seem to define it by having been there.

I took my venture with my lovely new girlfriend. Now, before you start to say, "Uh, isn't this a little soon to be going on vacations?" you should know that I've already asked myself that. This is, what, going on 8 weeks now, and, sure, we were planning the trip on week number 3, but we are two very intense people, and frankly, a New York minute is nothing to what we can accomplish in the span of 5 days.

Since this was my first time there, I had no idea about the subway system and the best way to get around. I am, after all, a Hollywood Asian and I'm all about driving my car to wherever I need to go. Planning your day around a subway route or a taxi ride just isn't how I think. But by day 2, I'd say we had a pretty good grasp of getting around. Unfortunately, we walked way too much the first two days. But I must say, walking is the best way to absorb all the sights that a great city like New York has to offer. Because you will see things you would never see while riding in a car.

There are several things I'm going to highlight as I get my mind back in L.A. time. I'll talk about Broadway and the show we saw; about the shopping we did, and the shopping we did, and then the shopping we did; the food we loved, and the food we dissed, and the food we just ate to fill our stomachs, but ended up loving because we were so dang famished; there's the neighborhoods and landmarks we saw -- Midtown Manhattan, Chelsea, SoHo, Lower Manhattan, Wall Street, Ground Zero, Empire State Bldg., Statue of Liberty, Staten Island Ferry ride, H&M, Daffy's, Century 21, Macy's, MTV, Algonquin Hotel, Parasuco, Le Colonial, Nobu Next Door; and of course, the one place I wish to heaven we had gone to, for many reasons I doubt I will ever mention, but none that will ever mean anything to you as much to me and the GF.

Where do I start? I'm not sure, but wow, it was an expensive trip. That's all I can say. It's a good thing I've had a busy 7 months, with more freelance work on the way.

But I must say one thing: Spending money never felt this good.

That Guy from Matrix II

Hey, that guy from Matrix II came into our office for the print job casting. Which guy, you ask? Not Keanu, of course. It was that Asian guy who protects the Oracle. Yeah, him! He was cool. Glasses, the traditional outfit, the cool demeanor.

He came in with his wife, who is a model, and their two kids. Collin is his name, I think. He doesn't wear glasses, by the way. And his wife is beautiful and very tall. Apparently, she's very famous in Hong Kong, too.

Other than that, I saw a lot of people who I usually see at auditions. But there was one guy who came in who never acknowledges me when I see him: Chris Tashima. I used to think he was just a loner or shy. But I'm starting to think he's a stuck-up dick. Saw the movie he was just in: "Americanese," which is an adaptation of "American Knees," by Shawn Wong.

The movie was kind of dull. To some, this is typical Eric Byler style. Someone who knows his work intimately, by the way, called his style: "miniaturist." Eric calls it "realist." I'd say it's humanistic, but not necessarily realistic.

Anyway, the script was dull, and Chris Tashima made it all the more duller. I don't know what Byler expected with Chris, but if it was a boring performance, he certainly got it.

The book version, by the way, is way better than the movie version. Go buy the book. I highly recommend it.

Asian Acting

The ad agency I work for just completed filming of two commercials in Vancouver. Today, they showed us the rough edits of them and I found one of them appalling.

For one thing, they casted these actors from Korea, where acting ability is not necessarily a requirement. I'm not dissing Korean actors. It's a well-known fact that Koreans don't have to be good actors in order to become famous.

Sure, there's some of that here in the States, but it's on a different level. You just don't risk $80 million on an actor who isn't guaranteed to be bankable. No movie from Korea has ever grossed that much worldwide, including Chingu, Old Boy and that new one, Typhoon. Shiri didn't even come close.

A production person at my agency said out loud to the group watching the commercials that Americans won't like one of the commercials. I agreed. I thought it was way overacted. Just over-the-top bad overacting that inspires me to puke all over the actor's headshot.

What's interesting is, I was in the minority. In fact, they called me a twinkie. I couldn't believe it! Especially since I've called other people who were more whiter than me that. But compared to the FOBs in my office, I'm both a twinkie and a banana.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I am finding a sense of frustration, though, for the Asian American actors here in America. The creative directors working at Asian American ad agencies are FOBs, and they're used to Asian acting. So, if you are trying to be like Ed Norton or Sean Penn, you're just not emoting enough for the Asians. And if you overact like an Asian in Asia, you're probably not going to get anywhere in Hollywood.

I remember watching an interview with James Coburn, an oldtime actor who hung out with Bruce Lee and learned JKD from him. He said Bruce just didn't know how to act, which to the millions of Asians around the world, this would be blasphemy. How dare you say that about our icon? But it's probably true. Bruce was Bruce, and fans loved it. James Coburn, on the other hand, was a very good actor. But you probably don't remember much about him, do you?

On the way back from the production room, I was informed I wouldn't be cast for one of the agency's print jobs. The problem? I don't look old enough. But I can accept that. What I won't accept is them telling me I can't act or don't look expressive enough. Because that's just bullshit.

Today's Shoot

I got a call this morning from the producer of the photo shoot to come in a little earlier than scheduled. "No problem," I said, "I'll be right there."

It was at a very well-known studio called Smashbox Studios. I've seen countless magazines where they've been credited as the location, but I've never actually been there. I have, however, sampled one of their matte base makeups while shopping with a friend at Sephora. She said it was the best for photo shoots as a matte powder is mixed right in. I didn't buy any, but I thought it was interesting information.

Like I mentioned, I was to play some sort of yakuza character. In fact, I was just a Japanese businessman. And I was to be photographed next to a harajuku girl and a DJ. The DJ was a cool guy and it was his first photo shoot. It was also the harajuku girl's first shoot, so I was the most trained of them all. Still, the whole thing felt a little silly.

Anyway, they asked me to get ready to shoot, so I waited around while they were setting up, and then took a look outside where a photo shoot was already taking place. A guy was standing just inside of a doorway, with a bluescreen for a backdrop. I watched for a little while and wondered if it was for the same photo shoot. Then the guy being photographed saw me and said, "Hey, how's it going?!" I said, "Hey, pretty good!" And then I walked back into the studio where they were setting up.

I walked up to one of the assistants and asked if the photo shoot outside was for the same production and he said no, it was for someone else. I said he looked kind of familiar. He was tall, with semi-mussed-up brownish blonde hair. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

The assistant said the guy was some "famous, famous guy. You know the one. Ashton what's-his-name..."

"Oh, Ashton Kutcher. Yeah, I thought he looked familiar. Hmm..." And then I went back outside to take another look. Immediately, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed up my girlfriend and told her I was just standing about 10 feet from Ashton Kutcher in a photo shoot. Truthfully, I was about 20 feet away, but who's measuring?

Oh, about the girlfriend... I just started seeing someone who I also happen to work with at the aforementioned office job. It's been a couple of weeks now and it seems a bit premature to call someone your girlfriend, but maybe I'm just being optimistic or hopeful. Then again, we're a pretty good fit and I won't question that part of it. I suppose I'll update my status as we go along. And yes, she knows about this site.

So there I am, on the phone, watching this photo shoot take place. And then I realize, as weird as this seems, it's actually pretty normal in Los Angeles.

And so I'm called in for my shoot, posing as the Japanese businessman, and somehow, I just don't feel so silly doing this anymore. After all, some famous guy next door is doing it, too.

This Job Is Starting to Suck!

I once had a girlfriend who had this dog. The dog would often just stand in the middle of the living room, on the carpet, not knowing if it should sit, walk or run. I watched this dog with some curiosity. But what was more interesting was my girlfriend, who seemed to be waiting for that dog to do whatever it was she didn't want it to do, so that she could scold it.

Well, that's what I'm feeling like right now. That dog. Here, in my office of 5 months, I'm feeling like a dog that doesn't know if it should sit, walk or run. Why? Mostly because I was given a job description before I got here, and then was given jobs completely out of that description.

Not only that, but I wasn't even briefed on simple procedures such as taking days off, so I've been slowly trying to figure out the system. But as soon as I do something wrong, I'm scolded. That's just frigging fucked up, ya know???

There's other stuff that bugs me. Such as the fact that I have a huge communication problem with my supervisor. And, I should say, a huge logic gap with him too. I think one way, he thinks another. And somehow, my way just doesn't make sense to him. Meanwhile, I don't really understand his way either. Am I just in the wrong office? I've never had problems like this before. No matter how fucked up the office politics were, I usually understood the basic processes of the office. This time, the processes seem to keep changing, and I try to change with them, until of course I am scolded.

I hate being scolded. I don't mind being told I fucked up. But I don't like being scolded. It just feels like being treated like a kid, only I'm an adult who is being scolded. That's really fucked up!!

So the other day, I got this job notice from my temp agent. It's a good job. Pays 20% more than what I'm getting now, plus serious executive-quality benefits. Meanwhile, I feel like I'm stuck here in this twilight zone where communication always gets funky and I'm unhappy because, well, I'm always being treated like a screw-up.

You know, I used to have a certain amount of pride in my abilities. I used to think I was a pretty good worker. I used to think I was a darn good proofreader. I used to think I cared about my work. Now, I'm not so sure. Lack of confidence? Well, more like an abundance of scolding!!

I'm working a print job tomorrow. (I can't wait to get my mind off my office job.) I'm playing some sort of yakuza who has a couple of harajuku girls with him. Yeah, I don't understand it either. Japanese company, apparently.

Oh, Woe Is Me...

I realize I haven't written anything truly dreadful or depressing, which is really not being honest. It takes a lot to keep perspective while living in Hollywood. You get caught up in the whirlwind of consumerism and materialism--and that's just the dating scene.

Well, last weekend I had a period of several hours just reflecting on life...and it wasn't pretty. Enjoy! ;)
___________________________

OH, WOE IS ME…

I used to think that the world is not fair. But over the years, I’ve come to believe that the world is, in fact, fair. It’s just not fair to me.

Why can’t the world revolve around me just once?

Someone told me that books are the key to knowledge. But the more I read, I realize how much more knowledge everyone else has.

If I cry long enough, will the pain go away or will it just take a break until I start crying about something new?

I believe in the power of prayer to take away my sorrows. And right now, I just pray that I won’t have to pray too much longer.

The darkness in my heart is sometimes overtaken by the darkness in my soul. No wonder I live in sunny California.

I make most of my living trying to convince people they need to pay me for whatever it is that I do.

I know that the candle that burns the brightest burns the shortest. But why does my wick seem to never light for very long?

If the world has ever been my oyster, someone must have shucked it.

My fear of abandonment was left on some stranger’s porch a long time ago.

My whole point of being has been left unsharpened.

I wish I were the tissue you blow your nose in. Or the dirt you spit on. Or the water you piss and poop in. At least, then, I’d have purpose.

By the time I get to the light at the end of the tunnel, it’ll be nighttime.

I tried to look at the window to my soul, but a bird flew into it and broke its little neck.

When I can’t sleep, I often pretend I am dreaming of being awake.

I used to think the world revolved around me, but then I realized that standing still while the world continued to spin was not quite the same thing.

© 2006 L.T. Goto. All rights reserved.

Rest for the Weary

I finally had a couple of days of rest, which to me means that I just worked my regular 8-hour work day and went home and watched TV.

It's pretty telling when you point the remote at the TV and find out it hasn't been plugged in since you moved the furniture, oh, about two months ago.

I think I watched some sports. But I can't remember if it was baseball or basketball.

By habit, I turned on my laptop and saw that I had to write up 3 invoices for the work I've done. This is something I've improved vastly in the last 5 years, but can still improve upon VASTLY. It's not like I don't want to get paid. I just don't want to figure out how many hours I worked. Because that takes work!

I had an audition this morning at 10:20 for a print job. It was by my place, so I went to work a little late. Tomorrow, I have a meeting for another freelance gig writing content for a website. Then after that, I have an audition at 2:25 in Venice for another print job. I swear, I am the print job king right now.

Oh, I did the Disney thing last week, and it turns out it was actually at Disneyland. I must've rode the Splash Mountain ride 14 frickin' times! Well, I DID ride it 14 frickin' times. In fact, I have a bruised tailbone to show for it. It's hurting right now, if you must know.

Last night, I went to my regular Tuesday night outing on La Brea and the twin Chinese girls from the movie Big Fish were there. I finally got to chat with them, although I've met them several times before. As often as I've seen them, they still look exotic as ever to me. (Must be that male fantasy thing about being with twins or something.)

Tonight, I'm expecting my first Netflix movie to arrive. Just started a subscription the other day. For my first film, I decided it should be intellectually stimulating yet relaxing and enjoyable. I can't wait. It's "The History of Violence."

So, It WAS One of Those Dreams

I think it was last week when I began writing a little post about having another shit dream. But the problem was, I wasn't sure if it was a shit dream. And usually, my shit dreams get realized right away, within days. This one took a while. And no, I'll hold off on the bad puns.

So the other day, I went on a print audition for Disney. Pays pretty damn good for a print job. AND, the audition was at the same place I've had those Nokia print auditions that I never booked but always got close to booking. So, I guess I broke my losing streak there.

The funny thing was, during the audition, a woman (who I think was the casting director) came up beside me and put her arm around me. Without explanation, we started to do some couples shots. You know, LOVING couples shots. Well, not THAT loving, but loving enough. It was meant to be spontaneous love, I suppose, because I had no idea we were about to do that.

After it was over, I turned to the photographer and said, "Uh, I don't mind doing that again." To which the woman turned to me and smiled. Guess I still got a little bit of charm left in me.

Anyway, I didn't post that little shit dream post...until today. Because now, I'm sure I had one--after the fact.

They gave me a week notice, so it looks like I'll have to take the day off from work. But I doubt that will be a big problem.

Selfishness

A female friend of mine asked me recently what it would take for me to meet the "right girl." I said "moving out of L.A.," to which she laughed, heartily at first, then somewhat nervously. Her first reaction was taken over by the message which she slowly absorbed, thereby creating the second reaction. You see, she's been pondering meeting the "right guy" herself.

Nevermind the fact that she's a pretty powerful woman in the entertainment industry right now. And when I mean powerful, I mean she has a very enviable position in a well-known, legitimate studio.

What about me? you wonder. Would I be interested in such a person? Well, no, she's part of the reason why I said what I said. I like her, but she's far more sexy to me as a friend than anything else. I think that even kissing her once would ruin the fantasy of ever being with her.

Anyway, right now, just this very moment, I'm thinking about relationships and what they mean to me. Oh, by the way, my follow-up comment to this woman was that I hope to be with someone who would make me believe in relationships again, because they're starting to seem pretty pointless in my life.

And that's sort of my next point. Or rather, the thought that I was just having before I rudely interrupted myself. It goes something like this. Relationships are a selfish way for humans to enjoy themselves. Being single, on the other hand, is a much different form of selfishness.

Truthfully, I'd love to be in a relationship. But I know I'm married to my goals right now, first and foremost. I was growing to think that I'd eventually grow out of having goals and dreams--and I actually got close to giving into this--but then I found I just can't seem to shake them. Having a relationship would just mask my desire to be single and free and striving for my own personal selfish cause, which of course is myself.

But just because I have some very close friends who are married with children doesn't mean they are any less selfish. They want to spread their genepool, infect the world with their winning ways, flourish their own philosophies among their own family tree.

Me? I'm just trying to get some stuff done. Stuff that probably doesn't mean anything to anybody...except me. And that's just fine...with me. I don't need to convince the world that I have more important things to accomplish than anyone else does. Really, it's all relative. One person's home movie is another person's short film.

I have a quote from Michael Jordan that I think works for him and just about everyone I've ever met who got anywhere:

"To be successful you have to be selfish, or else you never achieve. And once you get to your highest level, then you have to be unselfish. Stay reachable. Stay in touch. Don't isolate."

Tuesday Nights

Every Tuesday night, I hang out at this one restaurant in L.A. on La Brea, just south of Wilshire. We've been doing this for the last 10 months or so, apparently. Drink a lot of beer, eat sushi and sashimi, and order the karaage.

Yesterday, one of the regulars sent out an email to everybody about getting together before this big Asian film festival that opens tomorrow. And sure enough, there was a shitload of folks, most of them in the industry.

One girl, visiting from New Zealand via Hong Kong (meaning she's from NZ but now lives in HK), asked if all these folks were in the entertainment industry. The answer was both yes and no, since some of the ones that do work for movie studios actually do marketing or accounting or work in the legal dept. That's working FOR the entertainment industry, technically. But why haggle, right? I was a dang proofreader and copywriter at one, which I might as well reveal now, since it's a foregone conclusion anyway. It was at Lions Gate Films, which used to be Artisan Entertainment.

I'm not revealing any proprietary secrets or anything so there's no real worry. Plus, they can't fire me since I don't work there anymore. But I digress...

An actor is there to talk with me about copy editing, as he's interested in making some money on the side. So, I promised to chat with him, give him some pointers, maybe even forward his resume to someone in need.

After that was done, I got into chatting with another actor who was all dressed up. I had to ask him why and he said he had an audition for a Michael Bay film. What was the title? Uh..... Transformers! Yes, Transformers, the movie. Pretty wild, eh?

My friend in marketing, oh shoot, I shouldn't really mention it here. But he's doing some focus groups on a big huge movie coming out. Boy, that's lame that I can't mention some things here. It's sensitive material because the results of these focus groups can make or break a release. Anyway, per my policy, I won't jeopardize someone else's career.

We had a few other folks there, but I'll just name them in case you know them: Teddy Zee, Peter Shiao, Stephen Liu, Karin Anna Cheung, Sam Chi, Di Quon, some VJ girl from MTV Asia, a guy who was on "New York Undercover," and many, many others.

I had an audition today for a commercial. Was a little slow, getting around today, but I woke up came time my audition. I ended up missing a print audition because the time and area conflicted. But it's no big deal.

Funny thing was, I auditioned for the same exact commercial -- concept, execution, casting agent -- last year around this time. I even wrote about it, and how I got there late and upset my favorite casting agent. Well, I got there early today and ended up waiting an hour. I'm starting to think that the commercial last year was never shot. Or, maybe it just never aired. Maybe the casting didn't work. So, they're seeing some of the ones that weren't cast. Who knows? But I know one thing. I'm not pissing off that casting agent again.

Not Sure

Not sure, but I think I had another shit dream last night.

More details to follow....

Clean Shaven

Oftentimes, I get a casting description for "clean-shaven." Such as tomorrow, I have a print audition at Castaways and they want me in business attire and clean-shaven. If you've met me, you know that even when I shave, I look like I haven't shaved.

This is one of those things that has really screwed with me for a long time. I go to auditions all the time and people wonder if I've shaved. Even when I book jobs, they wonder if I've shaved. I mean, didn't you see me in the audition? I don't look clean-shaven!! I have a permanent 5 o'clock shadow!! And, it gets even worse at 5 o'clock!

Over the years (and we're talking since high school here), I've tried various methods of covering it up. Generally, I'll use some sort of beard cover or cover-up makeup. Then I'll blend it in with some kind of powder. Truthfully, it's embarrassing that I have to wear makeup, just to look normal. That's right. I'm just trying to look like I've shaved!

So tomorrow, I'm going to get up a little early, shave, and apply some makeup to my permanent 5 o'clock shadow. Then I'm going to work, hang out for a few hours, then run to my auditions. Oh, I have a commercial audition as well. This one's in Santa Monica.

Anyway, some day, I hope that there gets to be this huge demand for guys like me. A guy who has to wear makeup, just to look normal!