This is my busy time of the year. And because one of my clients is seasonal, this becomes my REALLY busy time of the year. I had a project on Monday morning that was due by the next day at noon. That took me over 12 hours to finish, in addition to my regular job! So, doing the math, I'm not getting much sleep.
This morning, arriving by FedEx, I just got another 80 pages to look at. Friggin' A!
But as much as I whine and complain about it, I really don't mind the extra work. It's always been my thing to get my own raises.
This afternoon, I got a call from a Japanese company that distributes household products. They want me to pick up some of their products and rewrite their instruction manuals. Oh boy...
Oh, and I think I forgot to mention that a plastic surgeon I sometimes hang out with wants to do a trade for some copywriting. That's right. I'm thinking of pimping out my services for some Meso body sculpting and laser blemish removal.
What's Meso body sculpting? Well, apparently they stick you with needles and suck out the fat from your cells. It's like liposuction, only they leave the fat cells in your body, but remove the fat. Unfortunately, you have to go through about 6 treatments before you finally see some good results. Yeah, I know. I should just go to a friggin' gym, but damnit, if you got it (copywriting skills), you might as well flaunt it.
Actually, doing stuff for barter isn't a bad idea. I mean, I could probably get massages, facials, manicures, haircuts, dental work, and car repairs for the stuff I do. I know that Craigslist has a site for bartering services, but I bet there's a better way of making some deals.
Anyway, I'm way too overworked as it is right now. I should just work on getting some sleep.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Murder Mystery Dinner Over
The whole thing was a mystery. The storyline, my character, the crowd, my accent, the singing performances (it was built around an Asian American Super Idol show), and whether or not I could pull it off with only one meeting (I missed two scheduled meetings).
I should say that the only thing that wasn't a mystery for me was that I knew I'd be asking some perverted questions. It was the most inappropriate thread I could pull off, and I'm pretty well practiced in it, both in my writing and in my improv. Yes, it's a crutch, but it sure plays well with audiences that traditionally aren't too open about those things.
So, from the get-go, I had people EXPECTING me to say inappropriate stuff. Anything from "Are you wearing underwear?" to "What's your bra size?" to "How big is your penis?" Asian folks see that kind of comedy as cutting edge, not a crutch. And, boy, did the older ones in the audience love it. There was one woman (who actually might be reading this right now since I advertised this site in my bio) who was great and actually interacted with my dialogue. She was one of those gifts for improv actors that you can't plan ahead of time for. But she showed people it was okay to respond to sexual, uh, intercourse. (Sorry.)
Judging from the spontaneous laughter and the nice comments at the end, I think we all pulled it off nicely. I even went to a karaoke room with a small group of them afterward and I think the whole night opened them up. One of the girls said all sorts of guys were asking her what her bra and penis size was, which I think is kind of cute.
As for my Bruce Lee characterization, I think I'm over it. Done deal. It's all out of my system now. Plus, I don't think many people got it. They just thought I had some weird accent.
I should say that the only thing that wasn't a mystery for me was that I knew I'd be asking some perverted questions. It was the most inappropriate thread I could pull off, and I'm pretty well practiced in it, both in my writing and in my improv. Yes, it's a crutch, but it sure plays well with audiences that traditionally aren't too open about those things.
So, from the get-go, I had people EXPECTING me to say inappropriate stuff. Anything from "Are you wearing underwear?" to "What's your bra size?" to "How big is your penis?" Asian folks see that kind of comedy as cutting edge, not a crutch. And, boy, did the older ones in the audience love it. There was one woman (who actually might be reading this right now since I advertised this site in my bio) who was great and actually interacted with my dialogue. She was one of those gifts for improv actors that you can't plan ahead of time for. But she showed people it was okay to respond to sexual, uh, intercourse. (Sorry.)
Judging from the spontaneous laughter and the nice comments at the end, I think we all pulled it off nicely. I even went to a karaoke room with a small group of them afterward and I think the whole night opened them up. One of the girls said all sorts of guys were asking her what her bra and penis size was, which I think is kind of cute.
As for my Bruce Lee characterization, I think I'm over it. Done deal. It's all out of my system now. Plus, I don't think many people got it. They just thought I had some weird accent.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Went to a Party
Last week, a close friend was thinking of having a small birthday party. For the past couple of months, he was the First AD on "Alias," the canceled TV show starring Jennifer Gardner.
About a year before he worked on the show, we were watching a few episodes and noticed how fast the action moves from scene to scene. For instance, if she needs to go from the U.S. to Russia, they will do it in a matter of 2 scenes, with an action sequence taking place on the plane. No need to waste time on boarding and getting off the plane. Just put her on, have some action, then she's in Russia.
Anyway, he said the show was one of his most difficult, but it certainly paid the bills. He went to a wrap party and, of course, Ben Affleck was there to meet and greet the crew.
So last week, we went to this restaurant in Pasadena called Bar Celona. It's actually a combination of 3 restaurants, but it's new and the decor and ambience are pretty well done. We know one of the bartenders and met the manager. So, with a little encouragement, I got my friend to agree to spending his birthday at Bar Celona.
On Wednesday or Thursday, we started sending emails out, and by Friday, got a small group of about 20 for dinner. But of course, once dinner started happening, about 20 more showed up and we had ourselves a little party going on.
One of the guests was an old acquaintance of mine named Eric Byler. He directed Charlotte Sometimes, which I used to be a producer of when it was still called Better Than Sex. We got into talking and he said he had quoted me in a couple of interviews. It was something about writing characteristics, not based on what you desire in yourself, but ones which you wish were not true. This would always have to pass the litmus test of self-honesty, thus making for a more interesting story. He said I told him to write 10 of the worst things about himself that he wished were not true, then base a character on these things.
Anyway, he told the small group we were chatting with that my little bit of writing advice changed his whole career as a storyteller and filmmaker. That's a pretty major statement. When I mentioned that I had read his interview on the Internet, he apologized. I guess he wanted this ackowledgment to be more special to me. It was still special. Anytime someone quotes you and says you changed their whole career is pretty damn special.
This weekend, I may be going to a Lodestone play called The Golden Hour, written by Philip Chung. Eric said he thinks Philip's writing changed also, after they got into discussing my little advice.
I've written a couple of novellas and showed them around to people. They all would say things like: "You got played!", "You know, this is a lot like you!", "You don't know how much you are this character." And so on and so forth.
The stupid thing is, I know that I'm writing from my own experience, but exaggerating it to the point where it hurts to be this character. But people don't understand how a writer would want to paint themselves to look so bad. Truthfully, I don't like doing that, but it's the only way I know how to write. And as the saying goes, when it bleeds, it succeeds.
Fortunately, I have a lot of things to be embarrassed and shameful about, so there's a lot of material left in my repertoire.
About a year before he worked on the show, we were watching a few episodes and noticed how fast the action moves from scene to scene. For instance, if she needs to go from the U.S. to Russia, they will do it in a matter of 2 scenes, with an action sequence taking place on the plane. No need to waste time on boarding and getting off the plane. Just put her on, have some action, then she's in Russia.
Anyway, he said the show was one of his most difficult, but it certainly paid the bills. He went to a wrap party and, of course, Ben Affleck was there to meet and greet the crew.
So last week, we went to this restaurant in Pasadena called Bar Celona. It's actually a combination of 3 restaurants, but it's new and the decor and ambience are pretty well done. We know one of the bartenders and met the manager. So, with a little encouragement, I got my friend to agree to spending his birthday at Bar Celona.
On Wednesday or Thursday, we started sending emails out, and by Friday, got a small group of about 20 for dinner. But of course, once dinner started happening, about 20 more showed up and we had ourselves a little party going on.
One of the guests was an old acquaintance of mine named Eric Byler. He directed Charlotte Sometimes, which I used to be a producer of when it was still called Better Than Sex. We got into talking and he said he had quoted me in a couple of interviews. It was something about writing characteristics, not based on what you desire in yourself, but ones which you wish were not true. This would always have to pass the litmus test of self-honesty, thus making for a more interesting story. He said I told him to write 10 of the worst things about himself that he wished were not true, then base a character on these things.
Anyway, he told the small group we were chatting with that my little bit of writing advice changed his whole career as a storyteller and filmmaker. That's a pretty major statement. When I mentioned that I had read his interview on the Internet, he apologized. I guess he wanted this ackowledgment to be more special to me. It was still special. Anytime someone quotes you and says you changed their whole career is pretty damn special.
This weekend, I may be going to a Lodestone play called The Golden Hour, written by Philip Chung. Eric said he thinks Philip's writing changed also, after they got into discussing my little advice.
I've written a couple of novellas and showed them around to people. They all would say things like: "You got played!", "You know, this is a lot like you!", "You don't know how much you are this character." And so on and so forth.
The stupid thing is, I know that I'm writing from my own experience, but exaggerating it to the point where it hurts to be this character. But people don't understand how a writer would want to paint themselves to look so bad. Truthfully, I don't like doing that, but it's the only way I know how to write. And as the saying goes, when it bleeds, it succeeds.
Fortunately, I have a lot of things to be embarrassed and shameful about, so there's a lot of material left in my repertoire.
Friday Already?
Can't believe it's Friday already. I spent 3 days in Austin, but I spent about 15 hours in planes and airports. Usually, I stay at this quaint old hotel called the Driskill. But it's been hit or miss. This last stay was a real miss. I swear, they must've put me in the room they reserve for employees. They told me the place was fully booked, so I couldn't book an extra day, which it turns out I needed to.
The next morning, I started to take a shower and realized they didn't give me any shampoo. I ordered a breakfast of coffee and oatmeal, which was fine, but that's because I paid for it, along with the mandatory 18% gratuity. But dangit, they didn't deliver my newspaper. It was my 3rd stay there in 3 months. They even ask you, "Do you want your newspaper?" So much for Southern hospitality.
Because they couldn't book my extra day, I had to book a room at the Radisson. It was a last-minute booking, but the room was just what you expect in a hotel. It didn't come with free Internet like Driskill, but I found a wi-fi signal in the area.
Yesterday, I took calls for more freelance work again. I told someone about my freelance career. First couple years are tough. You have one really difficult year. Then things pick up and you get the hang of freelancing and start to make a decent living. Then one of your clients hires you full-time permanent.
Haven't heard anything from the commercial auditions I had last week. All of them were for national network TV. Nothing on the print auditions either.
Tomorrow night, I'm performing in one of those murder mystery dinner things. I'm playing a detective. I was supposed to do a CSI-like character but I don't think they make good comedy. So, I'm doing one of my characters. Actually, I'm combining two of my characters. All I can say is, imagine Bruce Lee as a horndog. The dialogue is mostly improvved, so I plan to ask all the suspects some personal information. You know, like bra and penis size.
That oughta make for good dinner conversation.
The next morning, I started to take a shower and realized they didn't give me any shampoo. I ordered a breakfast of coffee and oatmeal, which was fine, but that's because I paid for it, along with the mandatory 18% gratuity. But dangit, they didn't deliver my newspaper. It was my 3rd stay there in 3 months. They even ask you, "Do you want your newspaper?" So much for Southern hospitality.
Because they couldn't book my extra day, I had to book a room at the Radisson. It was a last-minute booking, but the room was just what you expect in a hotel. It didn't come with free Internet like Driskill, but I found a wi-fi signal in the area.
Yesterday, I took calls for more freelance work again. I told someone about my freelance career. First couple years are tough. You have one really difficult year. Then things pick up and you get the hang of freelancing and start to make a decent living. Then one of your clients hires you full-time permanent.
Haven't heard anything from the commercial auditions I had last week. All of them were for national network TV. Nothing on the print auditions either.
Tomorrow night, I'm performing in one of those murder mystery dinner things. I'm playing a detective. I was supposed to do a CSI-like character but I don't think they make good comedy. So, I'm doing one of my characters. Actually, I'm combining two of my characters. All I can say is, imagine Bruce Lee as a horndog. The dialogue is mostly improvved, so I plan to ask all the suspects some personal information. You know, like bra and penis size.
That oughta make for good dinner conversation.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
One of Those Weeks Again
I'm going out of town again to Austin, Texas. Wish I could spend more time there and look at the real estate. Not that I could afford anything just yet. But it wouldn't hurt to look.
Today, I had two auditions, both of them same-day appointments, meaning they call you that day and want you to go audition, wearing whatever clothes you happen to be wearing.
Fortunately, I was wearing something that fit both auditions: a pair of beige slacks and a short-sleeve polo.
The first one was for T-Mobile. If you recall, I've had a few auditions for them before. Apparently, they requested me for this one. Not sure why. But I guess I'll take whatever compliment I can squeeze out of that one.
For some reason, I was the only Asian guy there, among a bunch of white and black guys all going for the same role. It happens like this for me a lot. But I've never booked any of them. Yeah, sometimes I wonder why I bother with it.
Regardless, I think I had a good audition. I was pretty loose. And this reminds me that I had another audition just the other day for a Verizon commercial. Yes, they are competitors. But that ain't the half of it. I shouldn't mention it here, per my rule about not talking about my current job, but one of my company's clients just happens to be another competitor in the telecom market. Oh well. They're not hiring me.
On Monday, I'm flying out to Austin from the John Wayne Airport. I usually fly from Burbank or LAX, but I have a meeting in the OC on Tuesday night when I fly back in. So, out of convenience, I booked it down there.
Just before I drive down there, though, I have another commercial audition in the morning. I don't know who it's for, but it's a national network spot. Sometimes, I get auditions for companies that don't want to disclose their information over the Breakdowns.
Well, sorry if this is a little dry. I'm just having one of those crazy weeks again.
Today, I had two auditions, both of them same-day appointments, meaning they call you that day and want you to go audition, wearing whatever clothes you happen to be wearing.
Fortunately, I was wearing something that fit both auditions: a pair of beige slacks and a short-sleeve polo.
The first one was for T-Mobile. If you recall, I've had a few auditions for them before. Apparently, they requested me for this one. Not sure why. But I guess I'll take whatever compliment I can squeeze out of that one.
For some reason, I was the only Asian guy there, among a bunch of white and black guys all going for the same role. It happens like this for me a lot. But I've never booked any of them. Yeah, sometimes I wonder why I bother with it.
Regardless, I think I had a good audition. I was pretty loose. And this reminds me that I had another audition just the other day for a Verizon commercial. Yes, they are competitors. But that ain't the half of it. I shouldn't mention it here, per my rule about not talking about my current job, but one of my company's clients just happens to be another competitor in the telecom market. Oh well. They're not hiring me.
On Monday, I'm flying out to Austin from the John Wayne Airport. I usually fly from Burbank or LAX, but I have a meeting in the OC on Tuesday night when I fly back in. So, out of convenience, I booked it down there.
Just before I drive down there, though, I have another commercial audition in the morning. I don't know who it's for, but it's a national network spot. Sometimes, I get auditions for companies that don't want to disclose their information over the Breakdowns.
Well, sorry if this is a little dry. I'm just having one of those crazy weeks again.
Monday, March 20, 2006
I Have This Friend
I have this friend who keeps "threatening" to take headshots and give commercial acting a shot. She says she has the type of schedule where she can go off and do auditions, or take off a day or so to do the job. To me, that's the ideal situation. There are folks in this town who would KILL for that kind of situation.
And each time she threatens to do it, I encourage her, giving her suggestions on photographers (which to use, which not to use), how much to spend, etc. She knows I'm no expert, but all she really needs is a kick in the pants.
I thought I've been kicking her, every time she brings it up, but it's obvious I'm not kicking HARD enough. She keeps bringing it up and I keep saying something to encourage her. It's gotten to the point where I might even start DIScouraging her so that maybe she'll get pissed off and just do it to spite me.
I've actually inspired many a person to do things because I've said they couldn't or shouldn't do it. I guess Mom blessed me with that "skill." For instance, I apparently told a woman she'd never get married with her type of personality. She got married and had a kid, just to spite me. I'm proud of her.
Then there was the Internet startup guy who told me his idea and I told him it wouldn't work. He proceeded to get some incredible venture capital, perhaps, uh, just to spite me! I know it sounds vain of me to say all this, taking credit for stuff that I didn't actually try to inspire someone to do. But the end result does seem to justify the means.
So, I guess that makes me the anti-spark. By my suggesting they kill their dreams, they end up building them bigger than originally planned.
My mom once told my brother that since he only had a 2.0 high school GPA, he should go to a community college and study to be a mechanic, possibly at Boeing. Instead, my brother got into the University of Washington through what was then the Equal Opportunity Program, and graduated in physics. Who in the heck does something that crazy? In fact, he was working at Boeing in the same department he does now since he was a freshman at UW.
Let me see now. What did my mom tell me not to do? Well, she didn't want me to be an actor. That's an easy one. She didn't want me to marry my first girlfriend. Okay, I listened to that one. She wanted me to marry my second girlfriend. Didn't follow that advice. Um, not sure how this theory is working for me. Seems pretty hit or miss.
Anyway, if that girl should threaten me one more time to get headshots, I'm just going to tell her she's fricking crazy and should keep her day job. That oughta get her started.
And each time she threatens to do it, I encourage her, giving her suggestions on photographers (which to use, which not to use), how much to spend, etc. She knows I'm no expert, but all she really needs is a kick in the pants.
I thought I've been kicking her, every time she brings it up, but it's obvious I'm not kicking HARD enough. She keeps bringing it up and I keep saying something to encourage her. It's gotten to the point where I might even start DIScouraging her so that maybe she'll get pissed off and just do it to spite me.
I've actually inspired many a person to do things because I've said they couldn't or shouldn't do it. I guess Mom blessed me with that "skill." For instance, I apparently told a woman she'd never get married with her type of personality. She got married and had a kid, just to spite me. I'm proud of her.
Then there was the Internet startup guy who told me his idea and I told him it wouldn't work. He proceeded to get some incredible venture capital, perhaps, uh, just to spite me! I know it sounds vain of me to say all this, taking credit for stuff that I didn't actually try to inspire someone to do. But the end result does seem to justify the means.
So, I guess that makes me the anti-spark. By my suggesting they kill their dreams, they end up building them bigger than originally planned.
My mom once told my brother that since he only had a 2.0 high school GPA, he should go to a community college and study to be a mechanic, possibly at Boeing. Instead, my brother got into the University of Washington through what was then the Equal Opportunity Program, and graduated in physics. Who in the heck does something that crazy? In fact, he was working at Boeing in the same department he does now since he was a freshman at UW.
Let me see now. What did my mom tell me not to do? Well, she didn't want me to be an actor. That's an easy one. She didn't want me to marry my first girlfriend. Okay, I listened to that one. She wanted me to marry my second girlfriend. Didn't follow that advice. Um, not sure how this theory is working for me. Seems pretty hit or miss.
Anyway, if that girl should threaten me one more time to get headshots, I'm just going to tell her she's fricking crazy and should keep her day job. That oughta get her started.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Superstitions
I used to think my mom was superpragmatic. Or, rather, overly pragmatic, I should say. She always saw through the bullshit, especially mine! And some of this rubbed off on me, although I can't exactly say I'm completely pragmatic, because that would be total BS.
But like I said, "I used to think" my mom was that way. That was until I started hearing little stories about her superstitious ways. Such as the time when my sister got accepted into medical school. Before that, she used to tell my sister to not have such high expectations or to try something else in the health services field. She always had this way of inspiring us to do something by bringing down our self-esteem.
When my sister got her letter of acceptance, my mom whispered to herself that "this will be a good year." You know, I don't even say those things, because, well, I HAVE said those things and ended up screwing up the rest of my year!! Now days, I will only say those things in retrospect, such as, "that was a shitty year."
About 10 years ago, my mom and dad paid a visit to me in Los Angeles. This was when I was living in South Central L.A. back in 1994, a couple years after the '92 L.A. riots. In fact, I lived on 41st and Normandie, which is some 15 blocks north of the flashpoint of the riots. They stayed at the house I was subleasing from another actor, who was a 3rd understudy for the Engineer in Miss Saigon on Broadway. (Not sure why I mentioned that.)
It was an unusual visit. I had just moved down about two years earlier from Seattle. I was also recently unemployed, collecting a weekly check of about $150. My place cost $300 a month, so I was really living in poverty at that point. They saw this and offered me assistance, which I turned down. I told them I needed to see what I was worth. Or rather, what I was made of. I was determined to make it without a safety net.
So then we went to Las Vegas together. My parents loved Las Vegas, and we drove there in my car. On the way there, my mom sort of mentioned the reason for her visit. She had been diagnosed with cancer -- her second time in her life -- but this time it was serious. Her prognosis wasn't good: 6 to 12 months. That's why the unexpected, unusual visit.
While there in Vegas, I spent through a couple hundred dollars of my parents' money, since I was broke. But the mood was light, and we were there to enjoy ourselves. Unfortunately, we ran into some familiar-looking folks in one of the hotels in the downtown area. They were a social group from Seattle, so my folks knew some of them. But there was one person, in particular, that my family knew all too well. His name is Art Susumi, the greatest salesman of mortician services in all of Seattle. My mom took it to be an omen. You could just see the sinking feeling in her body.
But like my brothers and sisters, being inspired by lowered expectations, she ended up fighting her prognosis for three years. So you see, she was superstitious, and then showed what human will could accomplish at the same time.
I have a few superstitions myself. I always see the numbers 333, just about everywhere I look. But I don't know what it means. Because nothing necessarily good happens. I think it's just sort of a sign that I'm on the right path -- route 333, if you will. The other sign I have is actually a dream. It's called the shit dream, so named by my ex, who said that if you should have a shit dream, or rather dream of taking a shit, something extremely fortuitous would happen. Usually, it would be money or a new job.
Over the last 4 years since I met my ex, I've had a few occasional shit dreams, and each time, sure enough, I was presented with unexpected windfalls in cash. Not just little bonuses here and there, but bucketfulls of cash. Last night, I woke up after an unusual dream involving shit. It was gross, to say the least, and I usually wake up after a disturbing dream. And then I relax, knowing that I just had the golden, treasure-laden shit dream.
This morning, after my alarm went off, I went to the bathroom as usual and then remembered that I had a shit dream last night. I was much more conscious of it and it triggered some thoughts about what could happen. To be honest, there was only one thought I had, and about a half hour ago, I got a call from my agent. I booked the Microsoft job. It's also on a Saturday, so there's no problem with scheduling, etc.
I won't talk about the year ahead, but the last few months, I must say, have been pretty good. And that's the pragmatic side of me talking.
But like I said, "I used to think" my mom was that way. That was until I started hearing little stories about her superstitious ways. Such as the time when my sister got accepted into medical school. Before that, she used to tell my sister to not have such high expectations or to try something else in the health services field. She always had this way of inspiring us to do something by bringing down our self-esteem.
When my sister got her letter of acceptance, my mom whispered to herself that "this will be a good year." You know, I don't even say those things, because, well, I HAVE said those things and ended up screwing up the rest of my year!! Now days, I will only say those things in retrospect, such as, "that was a shitty year."
About 10 years ago, my mom and dad paid a visit to me in Los Angeles. This was when I was living in South Central L.A. back in 1994, a couple years after the '92 L.A. riots. In fact, I lived on 41st and Normandie, which is some 15 blocks north of the flashpoint of the riots. They stayed at the house I was subleasing from another actor, who was a 3rd understudy for the Engineer in Miss Saigon on Broadway. (Not sure why I mentioned that.)
It was an unusual visit. I had just moved down about two years earlier from Seattle. I was also recently unemployed, collecting a weekly check of about $150. My place cost $300 a month, so I was really living in poverty at that point. They saw this and offered me assistance, which I turned down. I told them I needed to see what I was worth. Or rather, what I was made of. I was determined to make it without a safety net.
So then we went to Las Vegas together. My parents loved Las Vegas, and we drove there in my car. On the way there, my mom sort of mentioned the reason for her visit. She had been diagnosed with cancer -- her second time in her life -- but this time it was serious. Her prognosis wasn't good: 6 to 12 months. That's why the unexpected, unusual visit.
While there in Vegas, I spent through a couple hundred dollars of my parents' money, since I was broke. But the mood was light, and we were there to enjoy ourselves. Unfortunately, we ran into some familiar-looking folks in one of the hotels in the downtown area. They were a social group from Seattle, so my folks knew some of them. But there was one person, in particular, that my family knew all too well. His name is Art Susumi, the greatest salesman of mortician services in all of Seattle. My mom took it to be an omen. You could just see the sinking feeling in her body.
But like my brothers and sisters, being inspired by lowered expectations, she ended up fighting her prognosis for three years. So you see, she was superstitious, and then showed what human will could accomplish at the same time.
I have a few superstitions myself. I always see the numbers 333, just about everywhere I look. But I don't know what it means. Because nothing necessarily good happens. I think it's just sort of a sign that I'm on the right path -- route 333, if you will. The other sign I have is actually a dream. It's called the shit dream, so named by my ex, who said that if you should have a shit dream, or rather dream of taking a shit, something extremely fortuitous would happen. Usually, it would be money or a new job.
Over the last 4 years since I met my ex, I've had a few occasional shit dreams, and each time, sure enough, I was presented with unexpected windfalls in cash. Not just little bonuses here and there, but bucketfulls of cash. Last night, I woke up after an unusual dream involving shit. It was gross, to say the least, and I usually wake up after a disturbing dream. And then I relax, knowing that I just had the golden, treasure-laden shit dream.
This morning, after my alarm went off, I went to the bathroom as usual and then remembered that I had a shit dream last night. I was much more conscious of it and it triggered some thoughts about what could happen. To be honest, there was only one thought I had, and about a half hour ago, I got a call from my agent. I booked the Microsoft job. It's also on a Saturday, so there's no problem with scheduling, etc.
I won't talk about the year ahead, but the last few months, I must say, have been pretty good. And that's the pragmatic side of me talking.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
W...
As in hotel, that is. And yeah, it's pretty wow. What a beautiful suite those Verizon folks had.
It was a very painless fitting session. Got paid for it, too. That's a nice little bonus. But did I get the job?
Today, I got a call that I was still on "strong avail." I thought it was kind of weird since they kept the suit I brought in, along with my shoes. I thought that was a pretty good sign it was a done deal.
So I mentioned that to my agent, and a few hours later, it was confirmed. I got the job.
Unfortunately, booking jobs now presents a bit of a problem for me at work. I'm on salary, not hourly. So I'm supposed to be in the office. Fortunately, however, this office doesn't need me there every minute of the day. As proofreading goes, the job isn't as demanding as many other jobs I've had, both with time and the work involved.
Still, though, I've only been there about a month and I'm already asking for a day off. They said I could take a day of "leave." Which is fine with me. I don't expect to get paid for a day I didn't work. But then I brought up the fact that I was in an airport on a Sunday morning on my way to Texas a couple weeks ago. Does that not qualify for a "comp day"?
When I asked that question, it was like I had said something taboo. I guess salaried workers aren't supposed to get comp days. But it was just a question and it seems I opened a can of worms for the HR dept. Not what I had planned.
This really isn't that interesting to talk about, nor read, I know. But it's just what happens when you try to work a day job and have a side career in acting or modeling. There will always be situations that have to be worked out.
About 15 years ago, I caused a problem at an old job at a TV station by taking a leave of absence. I ended up getting canned for it. That was a rookie mistake, in my opinion. I learned some big lessons. For one, there's a way to do things, and there's a way to get fired. I don't plan on getting fired from my job. Not yet, anyway.
Personally, I'm mentally done with the modeling anyway. I could give it up in a heartbeat. Maybe that's why I'm auditioning so much. When I'm hoping and praying for work, I never seem to get any. Now that I don't need it or want it, I get busy in it. What a stupid life I lead. I'm not saying I'm superstitious, but it's just how it always seems to happen for me.
On the other hand, I'm not that desperate for my office job, either. I like it, but I've never been one for office politics or having to make my office job the most important thing in my life. That, to me, isn't what life is about. But I do enjoy the day-to-day challenges this job and my side stuff present to me. It's all about how to handle the situation in front of me.
Next week, I go back to Texas for a couple of days. Then there's the possibility I may have to work that Microsoft gig. Even though it pays very well, I'm sort of hoping I don't get the job. One dilemma a month is about all I can handle right now.
Sometimes, I wish I could just go run home to Mom.
It was a very painless fitting session. Got paid for it, too. That's a nice little bonus. But did I get the job?
Today, I got a call that I was still on "strong avail." I thought it was kind of weird since they kept the suit I brought in, along with my shoes. I thought that was a pretty good sign it was a done deal.
So I mentioned that to my agent, and a few hours later, it was confirmed. I got the job.
Unfortunately, booking jobs now presents a bit of a problem for me at work. I'm on salary, not hourly. So I'm supposed to be in the office. Fortunately, however, this office doesn't need me there every minute of the day. As proofreading goes, the job isn't as demanding as many other jobs I've had, both with time and the work involved.
Still, though, I've only been there about a month and I'm already asking for a day off. They said I could take a day of "leave." Which is fine with me. I don't expect to get paid for a day I didn't work. But then I brought up the fact that I was in an airport on a Sunday morning on my way to Texas a couple weeks ago. Does that not qualify for a "comp day"?
When I asked that question, it was like I had said something taboo. I guess salaried workers aren't supposed to get comp days. But it was just a question and it seems I opened a can of worms for the HR dept. Not what I had planned.
This really isn't that interesting to talk about, nor read, I know. But it's just what happens when you try to work a day job and have a side career in acting or modeling. There will always be situations that have to be worked out.
About 15 years ago, I caused a problem at an old job at a TV station by taking a leave of absence. I ended up getting canned for it. That was a rookie mistake, in my opinion. I learned some big lessons. For one, there's a way to do things, and there's a way to get fired. I don't plan on getting fired from my job. Not yet, anyway.
Personally, I'm mentally done with the modeling anyway. I could give it up in a heartbeat. Maybe that's why I'm auditioning so much. When I'm hoping and praying for work, I never seem to get any. Now that I don't need it or want it, I get busy in it. What a stupid life I lead. I'm not saying I'm superstitious, but it's just how it always seems to happen for me.
On the other hand, I'm not that desperate for my office job, either. I like it, but I've never been one for office politics or having to make my office job the most important thing in my life. That, to me, isn't what life is about. But I do enjoy the day-to-day challenges this job and my side stuff present to me. It's all about how to handle the situation in front of me.
Next week, I go back to Texas for a couple of days. Then there's the possibility I may have to work that Microsoft gig. Even though it pays very well, I'm sort of hoping I don't get the job. One dilemma a month is about all I can handle right now.
Sometimes, I wish I could just go run home to Mom.
Club Hollywood
So I'm at this club tonight called Jimmy's, which used to be El Centro. Nice place. The patio area is really cool, especially if you're not into the hip-hop scene, which is what they play on the dance floor. Sometimes I wish I was still into it, because there's some hotties groovin' to it. But for some reason, probably because I'm more into electronic music now, I just can't swing it.
I'm there for a birthday party for, like, eleven people. It's a good crowd, I gotta admit. But I'd rather chill outside. Plus, I'm wearing a sort of "car coat" with a hood on the back. It's wool, and not the best thing to wear inside a club.
By then, I had already had three shots of Patron Silver, a few beers and some good BBQ at an earlier party. Anyway, I'm feeling it. I get inside and hang out with some Cold Tofu folks. There's a lot of them tonight, too.
At some point, I'm talking to one of my close friends and a guy comes up, taps me on the shoulder and says hello. He also compliments me on my coat.
This would be a non-story, but many of you have probably seen this guy in a few movies lately. In fact, he's been in all the American Pie movies and had his starring feature last year in a comedy.
The thing is, I've never really liked this guy. Many years ago, I had a party when I used to live in a loft in the downtown L.A. arts district. This same guy walked in, grabbed a beer from my fridge, opened the bottle, and proceeded to flick the cap -- now, I don't know how to describe the process unless you've done or seen this before -- across the crowded room.
I was pretty pissed, but because I wasn't into confrontation back then, I just fumed about it. Actually, I fumed about it for a number of years. But then I was done with it. I don't know when, but I met the guy a few times and really just let it go. But, still, the feeling lingers on in the back of my mind. I guess that's how I am.
So I say hello to him, thank him for the compliment, and that's that. Not much more to say. Except the fact that a lot of Asian folks think he's the shit right now, and that's just fine with me.
Apparently, however, a few people saw his little gesture to me, and then started to think that I might be more important than I actually am. That's pretty frickin' funny, if you ask me. But yeah, a few people started to pay more attention to me than usual. I guess that's how celebrity works, right?
It's 2:35 in the morning right now. I have to wake up in a few hours for that Verizon fitting. Oh well. Guess I'm just a Hollywood Asian sort of guy.
I'm there for a birthday party for, like, eleven people. It's a good crowd, I gotta admit. But I'd rather chill outside. Plus, I'm wearing a sort of "car coat" with a hood on the back. It's wool, and not the best thing to wear inside a club.
By then, I had already had three shots of Patron Silver, a few beers and some good BBQ at an earlier party. Anyway, I'm feeling it. I get inside and hang out with some Cold Tofu folks. There's a lot of them tonight, too.
At some point, I'm talking to one of my close friends and a guy comes up, taps me on the shoulder and says hello. He also compliments me on my coat.
This would be a non-story, but many of you have probably seen this guy in a few movies lately. In fact, he's been in all the American Pie movies and had his starring feature last year in a comedy.
The thing is, I've never really liked this guy. Many years ago, I had a party when I used to live in a loft in the downtown L.A. arts district. This same guy walked in, grabbed a beer from my fridge, opened the bottle, and proceeded to flick the cap -- now, I don't know how to describe the process unless you've done or seen this before -- across the crowded room.
I was pretty pissed, but because I wasn't into confrontation back then, I just fumed about it. Actually, I fumed about it for a number of years. But then I was done with it. I don't know when, but I met the guy a few times and really just let it go. But, still, the feeling lingers on in the back of my mind. I guess that's how I am.
So I say hello to him, thank him for the compliment, and that's that. Not much more to say. Except the fact that a lot of Asian folks think he's the shit right now, and that's just fine with me.
Apparently, however, a few people saw his little gesture to me, and then started to think that I might be more important than I actually am. That's pretty frickin' funny, if you ask me. But yeah, a few people started to pay more attention to me than usual. I guess that's how celebrity works, right?
It's 2:35 in the morning right now. I have to wake up in a few hours for that Verizon fitting. Oh well. Guess I'm just a Hollywood Asian sort of guy.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Kinda Freakin' Busy Again
A while back, I wrote about how I had very little time to think about anything. Well, I'm getting that feeling again.
As you know, I stopped the improv classes so that I would have more time to myself. But in actuality, I've only gained about 4 more hours per week. That's not much.
Tomorrow, I will have had my fourth print audition for the week. That's insane! I work full time! I can't be going out on auditions that much! But fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, my agent schedules all my auditions right around lunch time. So, all I gotta do is get ready in the morning for my lunch time appointments.
The other day, I had one for Verizon, and it looks like they want me. Well, almost. They've put me on a "strong avail," which is almost certain that I got the job. (Every "strong avail" I've had, I've booked the job.) And just to keep me interested, Verizon will pay me $300 to go in for a fitting this weekend at the W Hotel. It's in the Presidential Suite, baby. I don't think I've ever been in one of those before, especially at the W.
I'm going in for an audition tomorrow for Wells Fargo, as an arm/hand model. So you're probably wondering, what does an arm/hand model pull in for a print job? It pays $750. Probably will take 6 hours to shoot, tops. You don't even have to comb your hair for this one.
But the thing is, I'm still on avail for that Microsoft print job that's shooting between the 20th and 28th of this month. The Verizon job is between the 14th and the 21st. This hand job shoots on the 20th, I believe, and my agent knows there's a potential conflict there. But what she doesn't know is I have to be in Austin, Texas, on the 23rd and 24th. In fact, I just found out today. It's for work. Again. My second trip for work in less than one month. Now that's insane.
I finally finished one of my freelance projects. That's a done deal, thank you very much. And, I also finished editing most of the magazine that I work for on the side. This weekend, I have to go to a house party for some old friends, followed by a birthday party at a club for some new friends.
I don't have a lot more to say than just firing off all my crap for the week. But I will say this. I tried going to the gym after work three times this week, and every time, I ended up driving home. There was just no way. I'm physically and mentally exhausted as it is. I don't even bother making a schedule any more. My schedule is completely out of my control.
As you know, I stopped the improv classes so that I would have more time to myself. But in actuality, I've only gained about 4 more hours per week. That's not much.
Tomorrow, I will have had my fourth print audition for the week. That's insane! I work full time! I can't be going out on auditions that much! But fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, my agent schedules all my auditions right around lunch time. So, all I gotta do is get ready in the morning for my lunch time appointments.
The other day, I had one for Verizon, and it looks like they want me. Well, almost. They've put me on a "strong avail," which is almost certain that I got the job. (Every "strong avail" I've had, I've booked the job.) And just to keep me interested, Verizon will pay me $300 to go in for a fitting this weekend at the W Hotel. It's in the Presidential Suite, baby. I don't think I've ever been in one of those before, especially at the W.
I'm going in for an audition tomorrow for Wells Fargo, as an arm/hand model. So you're probably wondering, what does an arm/hand model pull in for a print job? It pays $750. Probably will take 6 hours to shoot, tops. You don't even have to comb your hair for this one.
But the thing is, I'm still on avail for that Microsoft print job that's shooting between the 20th and 28th of this month. The Verizon job is between the 14th and the 21st. This hand job shoots on the 20th, I believe, and my agent knows there's a potential conflict there. But what she doesn't know is I have to be in Austin, Texas, on the 23rd and 24th. In fact, I just found out today. It's for work. Again. My second trip for work in less than one month. Now that's insane.
I finally finished one of my freelance projects. That's a done deal, thank you very much. And, I also finished editing most of the magazine that I work for on the side. This weekend, I have to go to a house party for some old friends, followed by a birthday party at a club for some new friends.
I don't have a lot more to say than just firing off all my crap for the week. But I will say this. I tried going to the gym after work three times this week, and every time, I ended up driving home. There was just no way. I'm physically and mentally exhausted as it is. I don't even bother making a schedule any more. My schedule is completely out of my control.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
New Job, Too
In addition to stopping the improv classes, I took on a new job at an ad agency. It's one that I've been freelancing with for the past 6 or 7 years, so I'm familiar with most of the folks I work with. Still, it's been tough these past 12 months. I've been going to new offices, learning new rules, remembering new names. And I HATE remembering new names. So, I have my work cut out for me once again. And I'm not even talking about my job responsibilities yet!
The other day, I helped cast a print job by inviting about 5 of my friends. They were looking for a specific type, not too model-like, but nice enough you could buy a product from. I guess that's my description, too. Except I'm a little too old for the job. (They told me so, in so many words.)
Not to worry, though. I've been going through some crazy castings myself lately. Almost all of it has been for print jobs for computer or tech stuff. Don't know if I'm being typecast as the IT guy. "It" guy wouldn't be so bad, but why IT guy? Probably means I'm not model-like, and borderline nerdy.
Once again, I'm on avail for a pretty big job. This one for Microsoft. By "big" I mean it pays decent bucks.
Tomorrow, I have another print audition. I think it's my 12th one this year, which is unusually busy for me.
My latest dilemma is that I think my hair is getting thinner. You wouldn't believe how much stress this brings me, which probably causes me to lose MORE hair.
Since I've taken on the new job, I thought I would have more free time. After all, these guys are no longer my freelance clients. But there's something to be said about "emptying your cup." It seems I'm busier than ever with the freelancing. I'm getting calls from people I've met only once, and that was years ago.
Don't know about the void being left from leaving Cold Tofu yet. I do want to take another class. But I feel I could really use the time to work on myself. Well, that and my hair. Hmm, I wonder if my health insurance covers Rogaine?
The other day, I helped cast a print job by inviting about 5 of my friends. They were looking for a specific type, not too model-like, but nice enough you could buy a product from. I guess that's my description, too. Except I'm a little too old for the job. (They told me so, in so many words.)
Not to worry, though. I've been going through some crazy castings myself lately. Almost all of it has been for print jobs for computer or tech stuff. Don't know if I'm being typecast as the IT guy. "It" guy wouldn't be so bad, but why IT guy? Probably means I'm not model-like, and borderline nerdy.
Once again, I'm on avail for a pretty big job. This one for Microsoft. By "big" I mean it pays decent bucks.
Tomorrow, I have another print audition. I think it's my 12th one this year, which is unusually busy for me.
My latest dilemma is that I think my hair is getting thinner. You wouldn't believe how much stress this brings me, which probably causes me to lose MORE hair.
Since I've taken on the new job, I thought I would have more free time. After all, these guys are no longer my freelance clients. But there's something to be said about "emptying your cup." It seems I'm busier than ever with the freelancing. I'm getting calls from people I've met only once, and that was years ago.
Don't know about the void being left from leaving Cold Tofu yet. I do want to take another class. But I feel I could really use the time to work on myself. Well, that and my hair. Hmm, I wonder if my health insurance covers Rogaine?
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Forsaken, But Not Forgotten...What???
So, I haven't been keeping up with this in a while. Basically, I'm juggling way too much crap. In fact, I made an important decision last week. I stopped going to Cold Tofu lab.
A couple months ago, our lab class was told we would get to do this once-a-year lab members performance on a nice stage at the Japanese American National Museum. It's the same annual show that I went to last year and signed up, on the spot, for the beginning class.
Naturally, I thought this was a great story. Here I was, three levels and one lab class later, about to perform in the same show I had been an audience member of a year earlier. I felt a sense of accomplishment. Triumphant, if you will. And so I proceeded to advertise this show to everyone I knew. I even told family members about it, and they're way far away.
About a week before the show, I was told that I wouldn't be in the show. Why? Well, the official explanation is that there weren't enough women in the class, so they had to limit the number of men. The other reason is that I had already done a "show" in 2006, which was the stupid 10-minute warmup our lab class sometimes does before Cold Tofu's regular monthly show.
But those 10-minute shows are hardly worth inviting people to watch, so I never do. I have friends who want to see me perform, but I want to make it worth it for them to make a 40-minute drive to Little Tokyo.
My first reaction was shock, then anger, and then my usual Bruce Lee/JKD-induced reaction: KICK THEIR ASSES! Well, not really. But I wanted to just shoot from the hip and call them and give them a piece of my frickin' mind. I mean, I told frickin' 300 people I would be performing. THEY told me I would be performing. What the hell???!!!
But lately I've noticed that going with that first gut reaction isn't always the best practice. Call it maturity, okay? This time, I sat down, had a shot of vodka, had another shot of vodka, took a drag off a cig, and then politely emailed them that I would have some explaining to do to my friends and family. But I let them know I wasn't pleased with it.
I then put my iTunes on random and the first two songs that came on were from the musical SPAMALOT. The second song to play started out "Always look on the bright side of life..." and instantly a smile came to my face. I even whistled along for a while. This, along with the vodka and nicotine, helped me to deal with a major disappointment. And so I proceeded to email every friend and family member whom I thought would come to the show that I would no longer be in the show...but thank you for your support and love, etc., etc.
The cool thing was that I received some of the most supportive, understanding emails from every one of them. I couldn't believe it. It was truly touching, and I will forever remember that moment. One friend even said that it was like I didn't even have to perform to find out who my biggest supporters were. That's true! And besides, I really could've sucked that night. So maybe I dodged a bullet on this one.
Anyway, a few days later, I went to our regular Wednesday night class. We did our exercises, scenes, routines and whatnot, and the decision came to me strong and fast: I need to leave this group.
But I'm glad I waited to think about it first. It's like a samurai (yeah, I still fantasize about being one) who won't strike someone when he's angry. He'll wait 'til he's feeling sorta Zen, and then he'll kill the muthafuckin' asshole...
A couple months ago, our lab class was told we would get to do this once-a-year lab members performance on a nice stage at the Japanese American National Museum. It's the same annual show that I went to last year and signed up, on the spot, for the beginning class.
Naturally, I thought this was a great story. Here I was, three levels and one lab class later, about to perform in the same show I had been an audience member of a year earlier. I felt a sense of accomplishment. Triumphant, if you will. And so I proceeded to advertise this show to everyone I knew. I even told family members about it, and they're way far away.
About a week before the show, I was told that I wouldn't be in the show. Why? Well, the official explanation is that there weren't enough women in the class, so they had to limit the number of men. The other reason is that I had already done a "show" in 2006, which was the stupid 10-minute warmup our lab class sometimes does before Cold Tofu's regular monthly show.
But those 10-minute shows are hardly worth inviting people to watch, so I never do. I have friends who want to see me perform, but I want to make it worth it for them to make a 40-minute drive to Little Tokyo.
My first reaction was shock, then anger, and then my usual Bruce Lee/JKD-induced reaction: KICK THEIR ASSES! Well, not really. But I wanted to just shoot from the hip and call them and give them a piece of my frickin' mind. I mean, I told frickin' 300 people I would be performing. THEY told me I would be performing. What the hell???!!!
But lately I've noticed that going with that first gut reaction isn't always the best practice. Call it maturity, okay? This time, I sat down, had a shot of vodka, had another shot of vodka, took a drag off a cig, and then politely emailed them that I would have some explaining to do to my friends and family. But I let them know I wasn't pleased with it.
I then put my iTunes on random and the first two songs that came on were from the musical SPAMALOT. The second song to play started out "Always look on the bright side of life..." and instantly a smile came to my face. I even whistled along for a while. This, along with the vodka and nicotine, helped me to deal with a major disappointment. And so I proceeded to email every friend and family member whom I thought would come to the show that I would no longer be in the show...but thank you for your support and love, etc., etc.
The cool thing was that I received some of the most supportive, understanding emails from every one of them. I couldn't believe it. It was truly touching, and I will forever remember that moment. One friend even said that it was like I didn't even have to perform to find out who my biggest supporters were. That's true! And besides, I really could've sucked that night. So maybe I dodged a bullet on this one.
Anyway, a few days later, I went to our regular Wednesday night class. We did our exercises, scenes, routines and whatnot, and the decision came to me strong and fast: I need to leave this group.
But I'm glad I waited to think about it first. It's like a samurai (yeah, I still fantasize about being one) who won't strike someone when he's angry. He'll wait 'til he's feeling sorta Zen, and then he'll kill the muthafuckin' asshole...
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Happy New Year 2006
It's a new year, so I thought I'd revisit this site after a long and unintentioned hiatus. As I think I've mentioned before, Internet usage is monitored at my current office, so there's no way I'm going to be writing this thing during the day. And that's sort of the problem. Because I usually get inspired to write these things during the day, not at home after work.
Actually, there hasn't been a whole lot to report anyway. I haven't had a major audition in a couple of months. My agency moved to a new office, and let go two of my favorite booking agents. I believe they kept my commercial agent, whom I don't care for at all.
The last audition I went to was at UCLA, which means it was for a student film. This one was for a samurai/assassin, who also has a protege, muchlike the real samurais had. But I think this character's protege was actually his son.
I didn't have much time to study my lines, so I ended up recording the other character's lines on a tape recorder, then doing my lines with it on the way to the audition. Yes, I guess I winged it. Bad on me.
Since I was the only one there at the time, I asked for a few extra minutes to prepare. Yes, I was stalling.
When I finally went in to do my scene, the director explained that I would do the scene in English, but later would have to do it in Japanese. My Japanese pronunciation is pretty decent, so I wasn't worried about it.
As typical, I did the scene the way I had prepared. The second time, he gives me an adjustment. And if there's a third time, he gives me another adjustment for perhaps a different way.
I did the scene three times, and the first one wasn't too shabby. I didn't even flub a line. For the next, he said I should try to seduce the girl who was reading the lines with me, as her character was also a female. So, did my best Barry White samurai I could muster.
That didn't seem to fly with him, as this samurai character is supposed to be a bit, shall we say, flamboyant. Well, the director's words were: "sort of feminine." So, I immediately thought of Koji Sasaki of the famous Miyamoto Musashi-Sasaki Koji duel. Sasaki was described as flamboyant, often wearing a bright red kimono with a bird on it. (Yes, men's Japanese garbs are also called kimono, although I'm sure there are other terms for it.) As for "feminine," I don't know if that was one of his qualities. In a movie version starring Toshiro Mifune, the Sasaki character was far from feminine.
So, giving in, I decided upon a metrosexual samurai who was also a deadly assassin. They seemed impressed, and I went on my flamboyant way.
Outside, I ran into a core member of the Cold Tofu troupe, as you may remember that I am a current member of its lab class. He was a bit embarrassed to see me, as I was to see him. But his credits are bigger than mine, so I supposed his embarrassment was also bigger than mine. We traded small talk and then I went to the bathroom.
On the way out of the building, I ran into another person I hadn't expected to see. His name is Rob Narita and he once did a show I was a featured extra for: Northern Exposure. Anyway, I hadn't seen him in a long, long time. And so when I said, "Man, I didn't expect to see you here," I really meant what I said.
His response: "Oh yeah, well, it's been a while since I've been in the business and, well, I'm just trying to update my reel." Oh, forgot to mention he lived in Japan for the last 10 years. His Japanese probably sounds a little better than mine.
Last night, I had tickets to this big live/electronica music event called Giant. You may have heard of it. They usually attract some 15,000 people. Yesterday was no different in that there were 15,000 people looking forward to having a great night dancing/raving/boogeying or whatever under the downtown L.A. sky.
That was until they decided to cancel the event at around 4 p.m. Most people found out when they showed up for the event that it was canceled. I heard rumors it was canceled at around 5:30 p.m. Unfortunately, I had also bought tickets for about 9 other people. So, we were all shittin' in our raingear, wondering what the hell to do with the rest of our evening. We were also already at a nice restaurant 5 blocks away from the event.
I really don't have a nice ending to this, although I'd like to find something positive to say to start this year out right. But for now, all I can say is, I'm damn glad 2005 is over.
Actually, there hasn't been a whole lot to report anyway. I haven't had a major audition in a couple of months. My agency moved to a new office, and let go two of my favorite booking agents. I believe they kept my commercial agent, whom I don't care for at all.
The last audition I went to was at UCLA, which means it was for a student film. This one was for a samurai/assassin, who also has a protege, muchlike the real samurais had. But I think this character's protege was actually his son.
I didn't have much time to study my lines, so I ended up recording the other character's lines on a tape recorder, then doing my lines with it on the way to the audition. Yes, I guess I winged it. Bad on me.
Since I was the only one there at the time, I asked for a few extra minutes to prepare. Yes, I was stalling.
When I finally went in to do my scene, the director explained that I would do the scene in English, but later would have to do it in Japanese. My Japanese pronunciation is pretty decent, so I wasn't worried about it.
As typical, I did the scene the way I had prepared. The second time, he gives me an adjustment. And if there's a third time, he gives me another adjustment for perhaps a different way.
I did the scene three times, and the first one wasn't too shabby. I didn't even flub a line. For the next, he said I should try to seduce the girl who was reading the lines with me, as her character was also a female. So, did my best Barry White samurai I could muster.
That didn't seem to fly with him, as this samurai character is supposed to be a bit, shall we say, flamboyant. Well, the director's words were: "sort of feminine." So, I immediately thought of Koji Sasaki of the famous Miyamoto Musashi-Sasaki Koji duel. Sasaki was described as flamboyant, often wearing a bright red kimono with a bird on it. (Yes, men's Japanese garbs are also called kimono, although I'm sure there are other terms for it.) As for "feminine," I don't know if that was one of his qualities. In a movie version starring Toshiro Mifune, the Sasaki character was far from feminine.
So, giving in, I decided upon a metrosexual samurai who was also a deadly assassin. They seemed impressed, and I went on my flamboyant way.
Outside, I ran into a core member of the Cold Tofu troupe, as you may remember that I am a current member of its lab class. He was a bit embarrassed to see me, as I was to see him. But his credits are bigger than mine, so I supposed his embarrassment was also bigger than mine. We traded small talk and then I went to the bathroom.
On the way out of the building, I ran into another person I hadn't expected to see. His name is Rob Narita and he once did a show I was a featured extra for: Northern Exposure. Anyway, I hadn't seen him in a long, long time. And so when I said, "Man, I didn't expect to see you here," I really meant what I said.
His response: "Oh yeah, well, it's been a while since I've been in the business and, well, I'm just trying to update my reel." Oh, forgot to mention he lived in Japan for the last 10 years. His Japanese probably sounds a little better than mine.
Last night, I had tickets to this big live/electronica music event called Giant. You may have heard of it. They usually attract some 15,000 people. Yesterday was no different in that there were 15,000 people looking forward to having a great night dancing/raving/boogeying or whatever under the downtown L.A. sky.
That was until they decided to cancel the event at around 4 p.m. Most people found out when they showed up for the event that it was canceled. I heard rumors it was canceled at around 5:30 p.m. Unfortunately, I had also bought tickets for about 9 other people. So, we were all shittin' in our raingear, wondering what the hell to do with the rest of our evening. We were also already at a nice restaurant 5 blocks away from the event.
I really don't have a nice ending to this, although I'd like to find something positive to say to start this year out right. But for now, all I can say is, I'm damn glad 2005 is over.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Sweet November
Can't really describe this month as sweet. Not yet, at least. But it is starting out, well, semi-sweet. Yes, kinda like those chocolate chips you add to cookie dough.
The title is actually from a song by the '80s R&B group, The Deele, which is also where Babyface and L.A. Reid started. It's a great song, by the way. If you like Babyface, you must listen to this song.
I've been at my new job for a little over a month now. Haven't been able to keep this updated because there are many restrictions placed on computer usage at this office. That's what happens, though. You get into a corporate environment, and you find out they actually hired someone who monitors your computer usage. Not only that, but they'll keep track of how long you talk on the phone, and what numbers you are calling.
I can't complain about this new job. At all. It's right in the heart of Old Town Pasadena, which means I can walk to hundreds of places to eat, and spends hundreds of dollars doing it. Not to mention the fact that I can also spends hundreds more by shopping at some of my favorite clothing shops: the Gap, Banana Republic, Armani A/X. I even have the opportunity to shop at places I don't normally go: Crate & Barrel, Pottery Barn, Urban Outfitters.
This all reminds me of the time I used to sell men's clothing in Seattle at Southcenter Mall. Every paycheck went to buying more clothes. I never saved a dime. Which is what I'm doing now. I'm eating and wearing all my weekly wages. There's no end in sight to it. In fact, after getting sick of the stores in Old Town, I found out I could walk a few more blocks to get to the Paseo-Colorado shopping mall where there's a Macy's and a DSW, which I think stands for Designer Shoe Warehouse. Just bought a new pair of shoes there, in fact. I'll be going back there often. I even signed up for a frequent shopper card. I get $25 credit every time I spend $200 (accumulated) there.
Oh, and then I got a mailer that there's a sale coming up at Macy's this Thursday. Can't miss that one. I'm going on my lunch break. I'm in big trouble already!
I don't know what this is. I mean, 8 months ago, I was a starving artist/freelancer. Barely making ends meet with my $350 a week in unemployment compensation. I'd buy maybe one new piece of clothing a month. Now, I'm doing it every week, sometimes twice a week. And if I skip one week, you can bet I'll make up for it the next week.
Last weekend, I went to IKEA and bought new shelves and lamps. What the hell? I've become a compulsive shopper!
As for the acting, I was pondering my future. I mean, going to auditions from Pasadena is a bitch! But what's weird, though, is they encourage such outside interests. Several of the folks in my department are in the arts. One has a one-woman show next week. Another does voice-overs. And one does stand-up comedy. I actually "belong" by being an actor. If I book a gig, they'll have no problem with it. It's crazy! I feel I'm working at artist heaven! Two-hour lunch to go to an audition? Sure, but record only one hour for lunch. What? That's insane!
This month, I realized I've come full circle. I quit a full-time job about 6 years ago in order to become a writer and an actor. I've established that life, and now I'm doing that AND working full-time. I think I've beaten the system. I'm Neo. I'm the protagonists in most of Ayn Rand's books. I'm ME!
Now, if I can only stop shopping.
The title is actually from a song by the '80s R&B group, The Deele, which is also where Babyface and L.A. Reid started. It's a great song, by the way. If you like Babyface, you must listen to this song.
I've been at my new job for a little over a month now. Haven't been able to keep this updated because there are many restrictions placed on computer usage at this office. That's what happens, though. You get into a corporate environment, and you find out they actually hired someone who monitors your computer usage. Not only that, but they'll keep track of how long you talk on the phone, and what numbers you are calling.
I can't complain about this new job. At all. It's right in the heart of Old Town Pasadena, which means I can walk to hundreds of places to eat, and spends hundreds of dollars doing it. Not to mention the fact that I can also spends hundreds more by shopping at some of my favorite clothing shops: the Gap, Banana Republic, Armani A/X. I even have the opportunity to shop at places I don't normally go: Crate & Barrel, Pottery Barn, Urban Outfitters.
This all reminds me of the time I used to sell men's clothing in Seattle at Southcenter Mall. Every paycheck went to buying more clothes. I never saved a dime. Which is what I'm doing now. I'm eating and wearing all my weekly wages. There's no end in sight to it. In fact, after getting sick of the stores in Old Town, I found out I could walk a few more blocks to get to the Paseo-Colorado shopping mall where there's a Macy's and a DSW, which I think stands for Designer Shoe Warehouse. Just bought a new pair of shoes there, in fact. I'll be going back there often. I even signed up for a frequent shopper card. I get $25 credit every time I spend $200 (accumulated) there.
Oh, and then I got a mailer that there's a sale coming up at Macy's this Thursday. Can't miss that one. I'm going on my lunch break. I'm in big trouble already!
I don't know what this is. I mean, 8 months ago, I was a starving artist/freelancer. Barely making ends meet with my $350 a week in unemployment compensation. I'd buy maybe one new piece of clothing a month. Now, I'm doing it every week, sometimes twice a week. And if I skip one week, you can bet I'll make up for it the next week.
Last weekend, I went to IKEA and bought new shelves and lamps. What the hell? I've become a compulsive shopper!
As for the acting, I was pondering my future. I mean, going to auditions from Pasadena is a bitch! But what's weird, though, is they encourage such outside interests. Several of the folks in my department are in the arts. One has a one-woman show next week. Another does voice-overs. And one does stand-up comedy. I actually "belong" by being an actor. If I book a gig, they'll have no problem with it. It's crazy! I feel I'm working at artist heaven! Two-hour lunch to go to an audition? Sure, but record only one hour for lunch. What? That's insane!
This month, I realized I've come full circle. I quit a full-time job about 6 years ago in order to become a writer and an actor. I've established that life, and now I'm doing that AND working full-time. I think I've beaten the system. I'm Neo. I'm the protagonists in most of Ayn Rand's books. I'm ME!
Now, if I can only stop shopping.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
A Phone Call
Hey, I just got a call from one of the instructors of my Cold Tofu class. It looks like I've been invited to join the next level, which is the lab class.
I guess my delusions weren't so off after all....
I guess my delusions weren't so off after all....
Got Home Early
I left the office today around 5:30. I was running out of steam and, also, running out of stuff to do. So, I got on the 110 South and headed home. Passed through Chinatown easily and onto the 101 Hollywood freeway. Wow, that was a breeze. I need to leave work at 5:30 every day. I got home in probably less than 20 minutes, from start to finish. Amazing.
I decided to use my extra time to go take a walk down Sunset Blvd. and visit a store I've been wanting to shop ever since I moved to Hollywood: DNA Clothing Company. Halfway there, I passed the Guitar Center and made a mental note to take a peek on my way back.
The store was empty and soon I began gathering an armload of stuff to try on. This place used to be my favorite store when I used to shop it in the Venice Beach area on Rose Street. They always had outlet store prices on some really cool shit.
Today, it wasn't much different. It had been about 8 years since I last shopped the Venice Beach store. Some really cool shit at outlet prices. I ended up buying a T-shirt and a retro-looking sweater.
On the return trip down Sunset, I passed by a young black girl who looked familiar. In fact, it took me 2 whole seconds to figure out where I had seen her: at the bus stop in front of Ralph's, sitting next to her friend or brother. The only reasons I had remembered her was because she was looking pretty fly, and she must've been only about 13. Her friend/brother couldn't have been older than 10. For a 13-year-old, she was unusually well-endowed on top, or so it seemed. Anyway, all I remember was it struck me as odd. This young, skinny little girl with a shapely top.
I stopped into a pizza restaurant I had been wanting to try: Ruffalo's. There were a couple of them in the area and I always thought about going in to try my favorite pizza combination: salami and fresh tomatoes. I ordered a Beck's while I waited for the pizza and the lady instead brought me a Peroni, which I learned is an imported Italian beer. Embarrassed, she quickly suggested she would bring me a Beck's, but I insisted on trying the Peroni.
It was slightly sweet and tangy at the same time. It definitely had something Italian about it. But the lady was right. It most resembled a Heineken, especially that skunky aftertaste.
I decided to enjoy half the pizza at the restaurant, and so sat down near a TV and watched Entertainment Tonight and the Hollywood Insider. It's funny about these shows. I can watch one episode a month, and never feel like I'm missing anything.
On the way back, I passed by the young black girl, once again. She had already gone up and down the street. Sure enough, her brother/friend was sitting at the bus stop, her green and red jacket over his lap. He looked worried, as if some cop or bad man were going to give him a hard time; maybe even arrest him.
I felt bad for this young boy, more so than for the young girl. I don't know why. I think this boy saw this girl on the street and felt sorry for her. This girl decided to take him along and keep her company. Either that, or this boy was actually her younger brother, and he was there to make sure nobody hurt her older sister.
Damn, it makes me feel crunchy inside. Mostly because I don't really know what I could do to help them. Obviously, I could do something. But what that something is, I just don't know. Because I just don't want to do the wrong thing, and there's so many wrong things I can probably do.
The only thing I could really come up with was to give the boy some money and tell him to tell his sister to get off the street. I doubt that would send them any sort of message though. Because I'm still giving them what they're after, and probably not enough to make a difference.
Hopefully, tomorrow, I'll get off work at a regular hour, and not have so much time to go shopping on Sunset.
I decided to use my extra time to go take a walk down Sunset Blvd. and visit a store I've been wanting to shop ever since I moved to Hollywood: DNA Clothing Company. Halfway there, I passed the Guitar Center and made a mental note to take a peek on my way back.
The store was empty and soon I began gathering an armload of stuff to try on. This place used to be my favorite store when I used to shop it in the Venice Beach area on Rose Street. They always had outlet store prices on some really cool shit.
Today, it wasn't much different. It had been about 8 years since I last shopped the Venice Beach store. Some really cool shit at outlet prices. I ended up buying a T-shirt and a retro-looking sweater.
On the return trip down Sunset, I passed by a young black girl who looked familiar. In fact, it took me 2 whole seconds to figure out where I had seen her: at the bus stop in front of Ralph's, sitting next to her friend or brother. The only reasons I had remembered her was because she was looking pretty fly, and she must've been only about 13. Her friend/brother couldn't have been older than 10. For a 13-year-old, she was unusually well-endowed on top, or so it seemed. Anyway, all I remember was it struck me as odd. This young, skinny little girl with a shapely top.
I stopped into a pizza restaurant I had been wanting to try: Ruffalo's. There were a couple of them in the area and I always thought about going in to try my favorite pizza combination: salami and fresh tomatoes. I ordered a Beck's while I waited for the pizza and the lady instead brought me a Peroni, which I learned is an imported Italian beer. Embarrassed, she quickly suggested she would bring me a Beck's, but I insisted on trying the Peroni.
It was slightly sweet and tangy at the same time. It definitely had something Italian about it. But the lady was right. It most resembled a Heineken, especially that skunky aftertaste.
I decided to enjoy half the pizza at the restaurant, and so sat down near a TV and watched Entertainment Tonight and the Hollywood Insider. It's funny about these shows. I can watch one episode a month, and never feel like I'm missing anything.
On the way back, I passed by the young black girl, once again. She had already gone up and down the street. Sure enough, her brother/friend was sitting at the bus stop, her green and red jacket over his lap. He looked worried, as if some cop or bad man were going to give him a hard time; maybe even arrest him.
I felt bad for this young boy, more so than for the young girl. I don't know why. I think this boy saw this girl on the street and felt sorry for her. This girl decided to take him along and keep her company. Either that, or this boy was actually her younger brother, and he was there to make sure nobody hurt her older sister.
Damn, it makes me feel crunchy inside. Mostly because I don't really know what I could do to help them. Obviously, I could do something. But what that something is, I just don't know. Because I just don't want to do the wrong thing, and there's so many wrong things I can probably do.
The only thing I could really come up with was to give the boy some money and tell him to tell his sister to get off the street. I doubt that would send them any sort of message though. Because I'm still giving them what they're after, and probably not enough to make a difference.
Hopefully, tomorrow, I'll get off work at a regular hour, and not have so much time to go shopping on Sunset.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Studios
Don't know if I can do this justice, but I looked at my dashboard today, and I noticed I've been to three of Hollywood's major studios for different reasons. (I've got three different vehicle passes for three different studios on the top of my dash.)
On Wednesday, of course, went to Disney, which owns ABC. For those of you outside of this area, Disney is all over Burbank, and I went to one of their many buildings.
On Friday, I had a meeting with my short film group. I probably haven't mentioned this before, but some folks from my improv class started a short film group called Guy in the Corner Productions. During the first meeting, around Venice Beach, a guy was in the corner of this coffee shop, listening to our brainstorming session. So, we called the group you-know-what.
The meeting took place on the Paramount lot, in the Jerry Lewis building. A girl from our group, apparently, is interning or working (I'm not sure which) at Paramount and we got to use one of their conference rooms. It's actually a cool environment for this sort of thing. More on that later.
That night, a guy was listening in on our meeting on the speakerphone. I didn't know who this guy was, but he was talking like he was actually there, giving feedback here and there. After the meeting, he suggested a "meet and greet" at his office, which is on the Universal/NBC lot in Studio City. So, at 9:30pm, a few of us went there for a "drive on," which means they give the security guard your name and they take your ID and let you drive onto the lot. We had to have one for the Paramount meeting, too.
We went upstairs of the 5225 building, otherwise known as the Owens Bradley building, and had a short meeting in the conference room that is normally saved for the folks who do "Crossing Jordan." I like this show, especially the woman who plays Jordan, who also was on "Law & Order" for a number of years.
The guy we met, it turns out, was a PA on the show. Actually, the correct terminology is Office PA, which apparently is a step higher than production PA.
You know, really, there's a lot of bullshit with these titles, and the guy admitted that. But he said he met a guy who said he worked on "ER," but really was just a production PA, and not a head production PA. Lot of bullshit, I tell ya.
I parked in the space reserved for the production designer of "Crossing Jordan." Then we had our meeting with this real geek of a guy who admitted he was just there to make the contacts. Other than that, he spends 16 hours a day in the office, often going in on weekends.
That night, we decided to meet the next day, which was Saturday. We went in at 1 p.m., again getting the drive-on credentials, and I parked in Ron Howard's spot at the Imagine area. Didn't know I was parking there at the time, but a tree happened to provide shade from the afternoon sun, so I took it.
A tram from Universal Studios Amusement Park drove by and I waved the obligatory wave to them, much to their excitement. (I've been on one of these and believe me, it's exciting when one of the execs on the lot waves to you.)
We then went in to the downstairs lobby and sat at a coffee table and had a 4-hour writers' meeting. It was actually very productive and we hammered out the "beats" for the first half of the short.
At 5, I had to go and get ready for my Cold Tofu appearance at 7:30, so we adjourned the meeting, which eventually took place upstairs in the "Crossing Jordan" office, just outside of the conference room we were in the night before.
There's not much to this office, really. Just a bunch of offices. Lots of offices. No cubicles. A secretary's desk. Many posters, awards, dry erase boards announcing the week's accomplishments such as moving up in the ratings. At some point, I went to the bathroom and noticed there was a shower in it. Apparently, a lot of people spend nights there.
Throughout the afternoon, a lot of the staff from "Crossing Jordan" brings their relatives and friends there for little tours and to show off. We saw about 7 people who were doing this. The guy we were there with kept explaining to the visiting staff that we were just waiting for some friends before heading off to lunch. Anyway, that was the story. We got a lot of work done, and hammered out the first half of the outline for our short. This guy (who works for "Crossing Jordan" as an office PA) is actually pretty good at outlining these things. I guess he sits in on a lot of these sessions. So, we got a lot done, in a short amount of time.
I think I liked the Paramount lot the best. I actually worked there last summer on a Ford commercial in the New York lot, and the entire studio really feels like a studio. Universal looks like an amusement park, and it seems the staff at Universal agrees. Every few minutes, a tram passes by, often playing some theme song for a famous movie, always at the same exact spot.
Then I went home, showered, took some herbs to make me feel spiritual (can't really explain this right now), and then drove to the Little Tokyo area where we have our Cold Tofu appearances. I always check the sigalert.com website to see how traffic was doing on the 101 freeway. It was bad, but getting better somewhere around Sunset.
I got on the freeway around 6:32, but was supposed to be at the Cold Tofu place at 6:30. Who cares? I'll be ready when I have to be, I thought. Sure enough, once I got there, I waited for about 20 minutes before we all went into warm-ups.
The performance was up and down. I had one really good scene. I'm tempted to say "great scene," but who am I kidding? It was really good, and I'm satisfied with that. However, I had one really mediocre scene which I'm still thinking about.
After the show, we went to Little Tokyo for food and libations. But at some point, I excused myself to head to Koreatown where my friends were entertaining some nice Korean girls. A few hours later, and $160 shorter, I left the parking lot. I didn't even get so much as a kiss from one of the girls. But that's to be expected. I didn't even get a phone number.
Now I'm home, exhausted, but not quite enough to pass out. I had a heckuva day. Writing, performing -- oh, and I bought tires from Costco.com -- and hanging out with some lovely women.
All in all, it wasn't a bad day.
On Wednesday, of course, went to Disney, which owns ABC. For those of you outside of this area, Disney is all over Burbank, and I went to one of their many buildings.
On Friday, I had a meeting with my short film group. I probably haven't mentioned this before, but some folks from my improv class started a short film group called Guy in the Corner Productions. During the first meeting, around Venice Beach, a guy was in the corner of this coffee shop, listening to our brainstorming session. So, we called the group you-know-what.
The meeting took place on the Paramount lot, in the Jerry Lewis building. A girl from our group, apparently, is interning or working (I'm not sure which) at Paramount and we got to use one of their conference rooms. It's actually a cool environment for this sort of thing. More on that later.
That night, a guy was listening in on our meeting on the speakerphone. I didn't know who this guy was, but he was talking like he was actually there, giving feedback here and there. After the meeting, he suggested a "meet and greet" at his office, which is on the Universal/NBC lot in Studio City. So, at 9:30pm, a few of us went there for a "drive on," which means they give the security guard your name and they take your ID and let you drive onto the lot. We had to have one for the Paramount meeting, too.
We went upstairs of the 5225 building, otherwise known as the Owens Bradley building, and had a short meeting in the conference room that is normally saved for the folks who do "Crossing Jordan." I like this show, especially the woman who plays Jordan, who also was on "Law & Order" for a number of years.
The guy we met, it turns out, was a PA on the show. Actually, the correct terminology is Office PA, which apparently is a step higher than production PA.
You know, really, there's a lot of bullshit with these titles, and the guy admitted that. But he said he met a guy who said he worked on "ER," but really was just a production PA, and not a head production PA. Lot of bullshit, I tell ya.
I parked in the space reserved for the production designer of "Crossing Jordan." Then we had our meeting with this real geek of a guy who admitted he was just there to make the contacts. Other than that, he spends 16 hours a day in the office, often going in on weekends.
That night, we decided to meet the next day, which was Saturday. We went in at 1 p.m., again getting the drive-on credentials, and I parked in Ron Howard's spot at the Imagine area. Didn't know I was parking there at the time, but a tree happened to provide shade from the afternoon sun, so I took it.
A tram from Universal Studios Amusement Park drove by and I waved the obligatory wave to them, much to their excitement. (I've been on one of these and believe me, it's exciting when one of the execs on the lot waves to you.)
We then went in to the downstairs lobby and sat at a coffee table and had a 4-hour writers' meeting. It was actually very productive and we hammered out the "beats" for the first half of the short.
At 5, I had to go and get ready for my Cold Tofu appearance at 7:30, so we adjourned the meeting, which eventually took place upstairs in the "Crossing Jordan" office, just outside of the conference room we were in the night before.
There's not much to this office, really. Just a bunch of offices. Lots of offices. No cubicles. A secretary's desk. Many posters, awards, dry erase boards announcing the week's accomplishments such as moving up in the ratings. At some point, I went to the bathroom and noticed there was a shower in it. Apparently, a lot of people spend nights there.
Throughout the afternoon, a lot of the staff from "Crossing Jordan" brings their relatives and friends there for little tours and to show off. We saw about 7 people who were doing this. The guy we were there with kept explaining to the visiting staff that we were just waiting for some friends before heading off to lunch. Anyway, that was the story. We got a lot of work done, and hammered out the first half of the outline for our short. This guy (who works for "Crossing Jordan" as an office PA) is actually pretty good at outlining these things. I guess he sits in on a lot of these sessions. So, we got a lot done, in a short amount of time.
I think I liked the Paramount lot the best. I actually worked there last summer on a Ford commercial in the New York lot, and the entire studio really feels like a studio. Universal looks like an amusement park, and it seems the staff at Universal agrees. Every few minutes, a tram passes by, often playing some theme song for a famous movie, always at the same exact spot.
Then I went home, showered, took some herbs to make me feel spiritual (can't really explain this right now), and then drove to the Little Tokyo area where we have our Cold Tofu appearances. I always check the sigalert.com website to see how traffic was doing on the 101 freeway. It was bad, but getting better somewhere around Sunset.
I got on the freeway around 6:32, but was supposed to be at the Cold Tofu place at 6:30. Who cares? I'll be ready when I have to be, I thought. Sure enough, once I got there, I waited for about 20 minutes before we all went into warm-ups.
The performance was up and down. I had one really good scene. I'm tempted to say "great scene," but who am I kidding? It was really good, and I'm satisfied with that. However, I had one really mediocre scene which I'm still thinking about.
After the show, we went to Little Tokyo for food and libations. But at some point, I excused myself to head to Koreatown where my friends were entertaining some nice Korean girls. A few hours later, and $160 shorter, I left the parking lot. I didn't even get so much as a kiss from one of the girls. But that's to be expected. I didn't even get a phone number.
Now I'm home, exhausted, but not quite enough to pass out. I had a heckuva day. Writing, performing -- oh, and I bought tires from Costco.com -- and hanging out with some lovely women.
All in all, it wasn't a bad day.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Update
A lot has happened over the past 4 weeks. Where do I start?
I ended my contract job in hell. That was a relief. Have you ever been in hell? I've been there a few times, it seems.
Once, when I worked a summer job in a hot-ass bakery making 10,000 loaves of bread. I was 19 then.
Then there was the time I was in France with my ex. Well, it wasn't good. That's why she's my ex.
And now, there's my last contract job. Truthfully, I could've left the contract. They were expecting me to. Everyone was: my agent, the traffic manager, my supervisor, my friends, you folks reading this. Everyone. But then for some reason, I decided to trudge it out, slog through the knee-deep shit I was treading in every day. It was more an endurance test than a challenge. Maybe I was challenging my tolerance.
Today, I was told to fill in my time card for 40 hours a week, regardless of how many hours I actually put in. Apparently, it's in the budget. My supervisor told me so, and she just got a major promotion today.
I work at a big corporation that most people in America have probably heard of or even patronize. It's not my thing to reveal where I'm working at, so don't expect me to this time. But I'm so damn traumatized from my last place, I filed my last timesheet counting every single minute I wasn't in the office. They wondered why I had less than 40 hours. Okay, don't fight the system, I'm starting to understand. I guess they want to retain me for a while.
I started there the Monday after I ended my contract, which was on a Wednesday. I didn't quite have two days off. A friend/colleague of mine asked me to come in on Friday to work. I happily obliged, mostly because I'd do just about anything for her, and because I wanted to buy some new tires for my Explorer. Thanks to her, I can buy all four of them at Costco for about $500. Yeah, tires are frickin' expensive.
I've been at this new job for about 3 weeks now. The hardest part is staying awake, since the workload isn't so hard, and the damn fluorescent lights lull me to sleep. I hate cubicles. Actually, because of some back order on cubicle walls, I have to share a large cubicle with two other proofers.
Today, I went to lunch with some co-workers. It was a damn 2-hour lunch. I went back and thought about putting on my time sheet that I had a 2-hour lunch. Yesterday, I had an audition in the Westside. I work in Pasadena. It took me 90 minutes to get there and back. So, I was going to say I took a 90-minute lunch. Plus, I left work early, at 5 p.m., in order to go to an audition at ABC for a network talent showcase. Oh, that's what I wanted to mention.
A couple of days ago, I got home from work. I checked my mail and there was a check from Talent Partners, a payment processing company for the entertainment industry. I didn't know what the check was for. But whatever it was, it felt like free money. Sure enough, it was a standard reuse fee for some video footage I was in. I shot that over 3 years ago, in fact, and they're paying me a reuse fee. Damn! I wrote my agent a check for 10 percent, copied the checkstub, and sent it to them the next day. Some people wouldn't do that, but I'm just that kind of guy. They were my agents then, as they are now.
Then I sort of half-noticed I had a message on my answering machine. I don't give a shit about this answering machine because no one except about 3 people know this number and they all know how else to reach me. But this was from ABC casting, and they wanted me to read for this talent showcase audition the next day. They said where I could buy the sides.
So, I was damn excited. I didn't even submit for this showcase. I was supposed to, but blew it off. I don't know why they would call me. I don't have a resume worth bothering about. Anyway, my friend was going to pick me up in a few minutes to see a screening of "Capote" at the DGA, sponsored by the Editors' Guild.
Damn good flick, I say, even though I know squat about the author or the period. I didn't even know a female author wrote "To Kill a Mockingbird." Anyway, Phillip Seymour Hoffman is frickin' fantastic.
After the movie, I downloaded the sides and began to study the part. There were 6 pages of dialogue, all with another character. I tried to run the lines as best I could, but I knew it wasn't very good or natural. So, I got a tape recorder, read over the other character's lines, pausing (silently) enough for my lines. I then played this recording over and over, trying to get the dialogue to sound natural and memorized. I wanted to make sure I was off book for this audition, and I knew I'd have to work all day and not get a chance to work on it.
I began doing dishes, cleaning up, preparing my clothes for the next day, all while doing my lines with the tape recorder. The next day, since I had an audition around lunchtime, I had to wear something that would fit both auditions.
That's the trouble with working a day job, folks. Most actors I know can prepare all day for the audition. Me? I gotta get ready early in the morning, figure out my audition clothes, and look my best from the moment I get into my car to go to work. By the time I get to the first audition, I'm already looking worse. By the time night rolls around, I'm worn down and my clothes are wrinkled. I'm not bitching, just stating the facts.
On the way to the first audition, I played the tape and went over my lines a few times. My mind was totally on the drive, so I barely concentrated on the scene. Which is what I wanted. On the way back, I did it a few more times, being careful not to over-rehearse the scene. (It is my theory that you want to hit the audition when the lines are not quite locked into your memory, so that you have to still think it out while the lines are being said.)
Oh, the lunchtime audition was a print job for Verizon, which reminds me, I had an audition for a T-Mobile commercial the week before. I totally screwed it up. It was a sorry-ass audition. But then they called me for a callback last Friday. I had a second chance...to screw it up again. Yeah, I'm a screw-up. They liked me and I screwed it up. They gave me a second chance and I just spit it back at them. I'm a loser, okay?
So, this week, I decided to make up for that. Besides, if I did the commercial, I probably wouldn't be able to do the audition for ABC, since it was supposed to shoot this week. Also, I didn't want to get in trouble at work so early in my career there.
Anyway, I got to ABC, went up to the 9th floor, checked in, looked at my lines a few times, went to the bathroom, peed, washed off my sweaty palms, didn't even bother to fix my hair or clothes, and then went back to the waiting area. They called me, I sat down, and we went into it, full steam ahead, all pistons blowing. That guy didn't stop for nothing. It was all back-and-forth banter, bam, bam, bam.
Amazingly, I kept up with him, all the way. I had my script on my lap, but only looked down once to see where we would be starting the scene. I said thank you and walked out. I wasn't sure I had done the whole thing already, since it was so fast. Okay, maybe this guy was just an intern, and they were just going through the process for some diversity program ABC has. But still, I made a small little personal leap that night.
Later, I went to my last official Cold Tofu class. I'm officially graduated from Level 3 now. We have a performance this Saturday. I'm not really telling people about it, though. I'm still not thinking I'm worth the price of admission, which happens to be "pay what you can." Some day, though, when I think I'm worth it, I'll be telling people, and they'd better show up.
There was an evaluation of everyone in the class, and then we did some exercises in preparation for this Saturday's performance. We're doing something called 60-30-15-5. You do a scene in 60 seconds, then the same scene in 30, then 15, and then 5, each time breaking it down to just the heart of the scene for the amount of time allotted. This is fun as hell, and I think fun to watch too.
The instructors have always been vague in their evaluations of me. Not very generous of their assessment of me. But they've always had no doubt about putting me in the next level. They're not kind to me because they don't want to see me relax and stop my learning curve.
Well, at least that's what my delusions are telling me. I converse with them every day.
I ended my contract job in hell. That was a relief. Have you ever been in hell? I've been there a few times, it seems.
Once, when I worked a summer job in a hot-ass bakery making 10,000 loaves of bread. I was 19 then.
Then there was the time I was in France with my ex. Well, it wasn't good. That's why she's my ex.
And now, there's my last contract job. Truthfully, I could've left the contract. They were expecting me to. Everyone was: my agent, the traffic manager, my supervisor, my friends, you folks reading this. Everyone. But then for some reason, I decided to trudge it out, slog through the knee-deep shit I was treading in every day. It was more an endurance test than a challenge. Maybe I was challenging my tolerance.
Today, I was told to fill in my time card for 40 hours a week, regardless of how many hours I actually put in. Apparently, it's in the budget. My supervisor told me so, and she just got a major promotion today.
I work at a big corporation that most people in America have probably heard of or even patronize. It's not my thing to reveal where I'm working at, so don't expect me to this time. But I'm so damn traumatized from my last place, I filed my last timesheet counting every single minute I wasn't in the office. They wondered why I had less than 40 hours. Okay, don't fight the system, I'm starting to understand. I guess they want to retain me for a while.
I started there the Monday after I ended my contract, which was on a Wednesday. I didn't quite have two days off. A friend/colleague of mine asked me to come in on Friday to work. I happily obliged, mostly because I'd do just about anything for her, and because I wanted to buy some new tires for my Explorer. Thanks to her, I can buy all four of them at Costco for about $500. Yeah, tires are frickin' expensive.
I've been at this new job for about 3 weeks now. The hardest part is staying awake, since the workload isn't so hard, and the damn fluorescent lights lull me to sleep. I hate cubicles. Actually, because of some back order on cubicle walls, I have to share a large cubicle with two other proofers.
Today, I went to lunch with some co-workers. It was a damn 2-hour lunch. I went back and thought about putting on my time sheet that I had a 2-hour lunch. Yesterday, I had an audition in the Westside. I work in Pasadena. It took me 90 minutes to get there and back. So, I was going to say I took a 90-minute lunch. Plus, I left work early, at 5 p.m., in order to go to an audition at ABC for a network talent showcase. Oh, that's what I wanted to mention.
A couple of days ago, I got home from work. I checked my mail and there was a check from Talent Partners, a payment processing company for the entertainment industry. I didn't know what the check was for. But whatever it was, it felt like free money. Sure enough, it was a standard reuse fee for some video footage I was in. I shot that over 3 years ago, in fact, and they're paying me a reuse fee. Damn! I wrote my agent a check for 10 percent, copied the checkstub, and sent it to them the next day. Some people wouldn't do that, but I'm just that kind of guy. They were my agents then, as they are now.
Then I sort of half-noticed I had a message on my answering machine. I don't give a shit about this answering machine because no one except about 3 people know this number and they all know how else to reach me. But this was from ABC casting, and they wanted me to read for this talent showcase audition the next day. They said where I could buy the sides.
So, I was damn excited. I didn't even submit for this showcase. I was supposed to, but blew it off. I don't know why they would call me. I don't have a resume worth bothering about. Anyway, my friend was going to pick me up in a few minutes to see a screening of "Capote" at the DGA, sponsored by the Editors' Guild.
Damn good flick, I say, even though I know squat about the author or the period. I didn't even know a female author wrote "To Kill a Mockingbird." Anyway, Phillip Seymour Hoffman is frickin' fantastic.
After the movie, I downloaded the sides and began to study the part. There were 6 pages of dialogue, all with another character. I tried to run the lines as best I could, but I knew it wasn't very good or natural. So, I got a tape recorder, read over the other character's lines, pausing (silently) enough for my lines. I then played this recording over and over, trying to get the dialogue to sound natural and memorized. I wanted to make sure I was off book for this audition, and I knew I'd have to work all day and not get a chance to work on it.
I began doing dishes, cleaning up, preparing my clothes for the next day, all while doing my lines with the tape recorder. The next day, since I had an audition around lunchtime, I had to wear something that would fit both auditions.
That's the trouble with working a day job, folks. Most actors I know can prepare all day for the audition. Me? I gotta get ready early in the morning, figure out my audition clothes, and look my best from the moment I get into my car to go to work. By the time I get to the first audition, I'm already looking worse. By the time night rolls around, I'm worn down and my clothes are wrinkled. I'm not bitching, just stating the facts.
On the way to the first audition, I played the tape and went over my lines a few times. My mind was totally on the drive, so I barely concentrated on the scene. Which is what I wanted. On the way back, I did it a few more times, being careful not to over-rehearse the scene. (It is my theory that you want to hit the audition when the lines are not quite locked into your memory, so that you have to still think it out while the lines are being said.)
Oh, the lunchtime audition was a print job for Verizon, which reminds me, I had an audition for a T-Mobile commercial the week before. I totally screwed it up. It was a sorry-ass audition. But then they called me for a callback last Friday. I had a second chance...to screw it up again. Yeah, I'm a screw-up. They liked me and I screwed it up. They gave me a second chance and I just spit it back at them. I'm a loser, okay?
So, this week, I decided to make up for that. Besides, if I did the commercial, I probably wouldn't be able to do the audition for ABC, since it was supposed to shoot this week. Also, I didn't want to get in trouble at work so early in my career there.
Anyway, I got to ABC, went up to the 9th floor, checked in, looked at my lines a few times, went to the bathroom, peed, washed off my sweaty palms, didn't even bother to fix my hair or clothes, and then went back to the waiting area. They called me, I sat down, and we went into it, full steam ahead, all pistons blowing. That guy didn't stop for nothing. It was all back-and-forth banter, bam, bam, bam.
Amazingly, I kept up with him, all the way. I had my script on my lap, but only looked down once to see where we would be starting the scene. I said thank you and walked out. I wasn't sure I had done the whole thing already, since it was so fast. Okay, maybe this guy was just an intern, and they were just going through the process for some diversity program ABC has. But still, I made a small little personal leap that night.
Later, I went to my last official Cold Tofu class. I'm officially graduated from Level 3 now. We have a performance this Saturday. I'm not really telling people about it, though. I'm still not thinking I'm worth the price of admission, which happens to be "pay what you can." Some day, though, when I think I'm worth it, I'll be telling people, and they'd better show up.
There was an evaluation of everyone in the class, and then we did some exercises in preparation for this Saturday's performance. We're doing something called 60-30-15-5. You do a scene in 60 seconds, then the same scene in 30, then 15, and then 5, each time breaking it down to just the heart of the scene for the amount of time allotted. This is fun as hell, and I think fun to watch too.
The instructors have always been vague in their evaluations of me. Not very generous of their assessment of me. But they've always had no doubt about putting me in the next level. They're not kind to me because they don't want to see me relax and stop my learning curve.
Well, at least that's what my delusions are telling me. I converse with them every day.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Counting Down the Days
I'm down to my last two weeks of work on my 6-month contract. A friend called me today and he said I sounded a little sad about it. To be honest, I am a little sad about it. Almost from the day I started this contract, I couldn't wait to leave it, mostly because of the workload and the stupid people I work with.
But I just grit my teeth and hunkered down with the work. I've had health insurance for the last 6 months, though I had no time to actually visit a doctor's office. Hopefully, before these two weeks are up, I'll get a dentist appointment in to get some fillings changed. Wouldn't mind a full physical at a doctor's office. Haven't had one in a long, long time.
So now that it's near the end of this thing, I do believe that I may actually miss it a bit. I'll certainly miss the routine of getting up in the morning, making coffee, driving to work and having to be someplace every weekday morning at an assigned hour. Then there's the daily arguments and debates with the traffic manager. A few of these turned quite heated. Had to apologize on more than one occasion. But she had to also, at least once.
I unapologetically snapped at the Osugi lady here, at least once. As much as I hate her, I will probably miss her too. Don't know why that is, but it just is.
I just bought a new iBook computer and I'm getting it all squared away for a long vacation I hope to take. I'm looking at Asia. Maybe an all-Asia pass on Cathay-Pacific for $1200. That's a bit pricey for me, but it might be a while before I ever go back, so I might as well make a trip out of it.
So, I got some money in the bank, a new toy and a possible trip lined up. Not bad for enduring some serious pain for 6 months. If I don't work for another 6 months, I'll have unemployment covering me at $411 a week. That's enough to cover rent and pay for some expenses.
After coming back from vacation, I'm going to see if my old Hollywood film studio needs my help again. Never hurts to plan for the worst, right?
And if this current workplace should ask me back next year at even twice the rate, I'm going to say "HELL NO!!"
Aw, shoot, they just bought me lunch. Trying to butter me up, I see. Oh well... I'll just have to wait till next year before I decide what to do about this place.
But I just grit my teeth and hunkered down with the work. I've had health insurance for the last 6 months, though I had no time to actually visit a doctor's office. Hopefully, before these two weeks are up, I'll get a dentist appointment in to get some fillings changed. Wouldn't mind a full physical at a doctor's office. Haven't had one in a long, long time.
So now that it's near the end of this thing, I do believe that I may actually miss it a bit. I'll certainly miss the routine of getting up in the morning, making coffee, driving to work and having to be someplace every weekday morning at an assigned hour. Then there's the daily arguments and debates with the traffic manager. A few of these turned quite heated. Had to apologize on more than one occasion. But she had to also, at least once.
I unapologetically snapped at the Osugi lady here, at least once. As much as I hate her, I will probably miss her too. Don't know why that is, but it just is.
I just bought a new iBook computer and I'm getting it all squared away for a long vacation I hope to take. I'm looking at Asia. Maybe an all-Asia pass on Cathay-Pacific for $1200. That's a bit pricey for me, but it might be a while before I ever go back, so I might as well make a trip out of it.
So, I got some money in the bank, a new toy and a possible trip lined up. Not bad for enduring some serious pain for 6 months. If I don't work for another 6 months, I'll have unemployment covering me at $411 a week. That's enough to cover rent and pay for some expenses.
After coming back from vacation, I'm going to see if my old Hollywood film studio needs my help again. Never hurts to plan for the worst, right?
And if this current workplace should ask me back next year at even twice the rate, I'm going to say "HELL NO!!"
Aw, shoot, they just bought me lunch. Trying to butter me up, I see. Oh well... I'll just have to wait till next year before I decide what to do about this place.
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