Tuesday, August 23, 2005
An eyebrow raise to say the least
To anyone who actually 'keeps up' with this thing, do you like reading about my daily life in these depressed, but well represented, journal entries or do you find humorous short-stories (much like the 24hour gym duece story) more appealing? Just a thought. I'm interested to find out. Also, I am the best the ever was, so get over it.
Return of the King
Just as so many times before, the moment has come for my 'triumphant' return to updating my blog, and claiming to become a stickler for improved updates. I shall do my best to maintain a blogger-typing relationship, but like my last three girlfriends...sometimes things just don't work out.
A lot has happened since last week. I suppose the most pressing would be my employement situation. I did take Ewing up on his offer to join his temp agency, a little skeptical of the legitamacy there of, but what do I have to loose right?
This agency was unlike any I have ever known before in that it seemed to have a more professional atmosphere to anything I have known before, let alone a 'sketchy' talent agency. After I met with Ewing's contact on the 'inside' I was asked to take several computer literacy/apptitude tests to challenge my level of basic computer knowledge. Let's just say at the close of the exams I had more 'street cred' than a 16-year-old suburbian girl who hates her parents. I aced all five tests showing scores which placed me into the upper 10 percent of all aplicants. Such acomplishments are always conforting when you fold jeans and t-shirts all day. In the end I was introduced about the office and told I would hear from them very soon. It turns out I was sent to a beautiful high-rise in Santa Monica the very next day in order to file papers at 12 dollars an hour.
Today I was given the opportunity to work in a beautiful high-rise in Downtown LA. I must say, the setting charmed me more than anything. Not only was the building I worked in acceptionally stunning, the atmosphere outside seemed to bustle with the activity of New York City itself. The work was wonderful in that I made 15 dollars an hour to read magazines and write jokes while periodically answering the phone (a total of 8 times in 7 hours). I could certainly grow accustomed to this.
In other earth-shattering news (as I am aware that this entire entry is bordering on trite in its failing ability to provide anything humorous or interesting) I have made my first real friend in the City. His name is Dan, and we first met at a Nebraksa Coast Connection meeting here at CBS television city. Though we met over two months ago, saturday night was the first time we actually hung out as Dan invited me to a party for some of his Peperdine friends in Santa Monica.
I must admit this whole concept of a 'party' had me feeling a little uneasy as I haven't exactly been a 'social butterfly' as of late with the whole lack of friends and everything, so I was a little nervous as to how I was going to adjust to the party scene. For those of you who know me, I will tell you only this: I'm back and better than ever. I turned a group of total strangers, into a group of Moore aficianados who seemed to hang on my every word and action. I must admit it felt good to be back...it was the first time I've been alive since I've been to California.
The addition of Dan to my overall presentation was also flawless. Dan played the role of wingman so brilliantly, his best moments seemed to portray the very stylings of one J Runge-saun on an 'off' night. Dan and I seemed to mesh together so well, many of the party goers assumed we were roomates or best-friends, and couldn't believe it when we explained this was our first outting together. (the entire scenario was much like a moore-runge outting in that we were able to play a wonderful give and take with the crowd, trusting each other's judgement as the game went along. Granted he's no Runge, but he'll do for the time being.)
Other than that, many things remain the same here in Sherman Oaks. My last day at bloomingdale's is Thursday as I prepare to head back to 'the good life' on Saturday for my father's birthday, ryan's wedding, and a much deserved vacation.
It's late now, and I'm tired. I had it coming.
A lot has happened since last week. I suppose the most pressing would be my employement situation. I did take Ewing up on his offer to join his temp agency, a little skeptical of the legitamacy there of, but what do I have to loose right?
This agency was unlike any I have ever known before in that it seemed to have a more professional atmosphere to anything I have known before, let alone a 'sketchy' talent agency. After I met with Ewing's contact on the 'inside' I was asked to take several computer literacy/apptitude tests to challenge my level of basic computer knowledge. Let's just say at the close of the exams I had more 'street cred' than a 16-year-old suburbian girl who hates her parents. I aced all five tests showing scores which placed me into the upper 10 percent of all aplicants. Such acomplishments are always conforting when you fold jeans and t-shirts all day. In the end I was introduced about the office and told I would hear from them very soon. It turns out I was sent to a beautiful high-rise in Santa Monica the very next day in order to file papers at 12 dollars an hour.
Today I was given the opportunity to work in a beautiful high-rise in Downtown LA. I must say, the setting charmed me more than anything. Not only was the building I worked in acceptionally stunning, the atmosphere outside seemed to bustle with the activity of New York City itself. The work was wonderful in that I made 15 dollars an hour to read magazines and write jokes while periodically answering the phone (a total of 8 times in 7 hours). I could certainly grow accustomed to this.
In other earth-shattering news (as I am aware that this entire entry is bordering on trite in its failing ability to provide anything humorous or interesting) I have made my first real friend in the City. His name is Dan, and we first met at a Nebraksa Coast Connection meeting here at CBS television city. Though we met over two months ago, saturday night was the first time we actually hung out as Dan invited me to a party for some of his Peperdine friends in Santa Monica.
I must admit this whole concept of a 'party' had me feeling a little uneasy as I haven't exactly been a 'social butterfly' as of late with the whole lack of friends and everything, so I was a little nervous as to how I was going to adjust to the party scene. For those of you who know me, I will tell you only this: I'm back and better than ever. I turned a group of total strangers, into a group of Moore aficianados who seemed to hang on my every word and action. I must admit it felt good to be back...it was the first time I've been alive since I've been to California.
The addition of Dan to my overall presentation was also flawless. Dan played the role of wingman so brilliantly, his best moments seemed to portray the very stylings of one J Runge-saun on an 'off' night. Dan and I seemed to mesh together so well, many of the party goers assumed we were roomates or best-friends, and couldn't believe it when we explained this was our first outting together. (the entire scenario was much like a moore-runge outting in that we were able to play a wonderful give and take with the crowd, trusting each other's judgement as the game went along. Granted he's no Runge, but he'll do for the time being.)
Other than that, many things remain the same here in Sherman Oaks. My last day at bloomingdale's is Thursday as I prepare to head back to 'the good life' on Saturday for my father's birthday, ryan's wedding, and a much deserved vacation.
It's late now, and I'm tired. I had it coming.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
sometimes it gets to you
Being alone can catch up with you at times. It's a lot like trying to run from someone who is a lot faster than you are. Such is life I suppose.
Brandon just got here today, and Richie, Jeff's friend, rolled in as well AND Goertzen is expected to drop in sometime tomarrow making 7 guys in our two-bed room apartment for the next week. I'm not too excited about that, but I really don't have much I can say.
I suppose the obvious irony in all of this is the fact that I feel so alone, but I am constantly bombarded with people at each an every turn. I want to 'be alone', but on my own terms. I would like to have a place where I can go to get away from everything, but it would appear that this said place doesn't exist for me yet.
I did, however, enjoy the company of my new friend Nicole and her friend Emily. We went to a cool authentic Mexican place just down the street on Ventura. The place was pretty happening, and I must say it was nice to make the company of someone I don't already live with.
I think I might quit my job tomarrow. I really do despise it thus far. I just can't morally find any redeming qualities to selling over-priced merchandise that is supposed to make people feel better about themselves. I think more than that, I'm against how the masses appear so completely oblivious to their foolish behaviors. Such is life I suppose. Ewing is talking noise about a temp agency that can provide some serious income coupled with an extremely flexable schedule. I'm going to play that one by ear and see what transpires.
Thursday was really cool in that I got to be on set for a commercial shot in Encino. It was epic in that I got to be a part of something so incredibly big, for a cast so incredibly small. I would like to do that kind of work. I think I could handle it.
This entry is fairly random in its format, but its very remnant of my brain at this moment. I like that.
Brandon just got here today, and Richie, Jeff's friend, rolled in as well AND Goertzen is expected to drop in sometime tomarrow making 7 guys in our two-bed room apartment for the next week. I'm not too excited about that, but I really don't have much I can say.
I suppose the obvious irony in all of this is the fact that I feel so alone, but I am constantly bombarded with people at each an every turn. I want to 'be alone', but on my own terms. I would like to have a place where I can go to get away from everything, but it would appear that this said place doesn't exist for me yet.
I did, however, enjoy the company of my new friend Nicole and her friend Emily. We went to a cool authentic Mexican place just down the street on Ventura. The place was pretty happening, and I must say it was nice to make the company of someone I don't already live with.
I think I might quit my job tomarrow. I really do despise it thus far. I just can't morally find any redeming qualities to selling over-priced merchandise that is supposed to make people feel better about themselves. I think more than that, I'm against how the masses appear so completely oblivious to their foolish behaviors. Such is life I suppose. Ewing is talking noise about a temp agency that can provide some serious income coupled with an extremely flexable schedule. I'm going to play that one by ear and see what transpires.
Thursday was really cool in that I got to be on set for a commercial shot in Encino. It was epic in that I got to be a part of something so incredibly big, for a cast so incredibly small. I would like to do that kind of work. I think I could handle it.
This entry is fairly random in its format, but its very remnant of my brain at this moment. I like that.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
my life changed
I have just returned home from nothing short of an epic event. The Juice invited me to attend a free concert at UCLA this evening for the Henry Mancini Institute which is an orchestra made up of 84 of the world's top musicians (aged 18-25) There were musicians from all over the world including some of the world's most prestigious music departments. Needless to say they were a talented group of individuals. This evening's event was for world famous film score preformers who have been influencail and who have worked in the buisness. Tonight I was allowed to see the original composer conduct the orchestra through The Incredibles theme, as well as the theme from Forrest Gump and The Village to name a few. These composer/conductors were the true, top of the line, professionals. It was huge to say the least.
I think the most epic portion of the evening was when Juice and I discovered that we were sitting next to one of the original Sienfeld writers. Needless to say, he was cool to talk to.
Other than that, I have a huge tennis match tomarrow morning with the Star City Serpent. (it would be even more of an epic, but Ewing punked out at the last minute.)
I think the most epic portion of the evening was when Juice and I discovered that we were sitting next to one of the original Sienfeld writers. Needless to say, he was cool to talk to.
Other than that, I have a huge tennis match tomarrow morning with the Star City Serpent. (it would be even more of an epic, but Ewing punked out at the last minute.)
Monday, August 01, 2005
Mtv2003? Oh NO! I Don't think So!
So if you were to check the date and time of this post, you would see that it reads,"August 1st 2005, 7:30am!" I'm sure you're puzzled as to why I would be up this early on my day off. An interesting story to say the least, but to quote David Brent "You are the best. Their opinion"
So Kuhns got scouted to audition for the Mtv show 'Next'. I don't really know what the show is about, but it has something to do with him going on a date or something or other. Long story short, after his second audition he was selected to go on this whole date scenerio. Great. Good for him. The plan was for him to be picked up by a limo at 7:00am this morning outside of our apartment. Great.
Last night after a crushing tennis match with Norris (more holds the trouphy for yet another week) I came home to take a shower and lay around 'till Bed-e-bye. Once about 12:30am rolled around, I gave the sandman the headsup and layed my horribly attractive head down for some much deserved rest.
My alarm is going off. My alarm is going off. My alarm is SO loud. My alarm is going off. I roll over to hit my alarm clock to silence. I hit it once, I hit it again, I begin hitting every button trying to get its pulsating unique ring to stop its intervals of annoyance. Only after I realized the alarm was going off in 4 second intervals that I realized it was actually my telephone ringing.
After looking about the room to assure no one had see my emberassment, I picked up the phone to view the dead man's identity(I thought it was TJG, and I was going to kill him) on my caller ID. Upon seeing a unidentified California number, I thought it could be any one of my LA contacts, and I threw on my best 7:00am voice and prepared to hear from my big break.
Blade Miracle has begun to redicule Kuhns. Its become his new game I guess. He enjoys it. For some reason, Justin's phone has the propensity to drop calls frequently. His phone just won't ring and there will be no missed call notification or voice message of any kind. His phone just won't ring. Blade loves it, and calls justin all the time. Just last week Blade, in jest, said "Kuhns, I hope you miss an important call because your phone sucks."
I don't remember what the woman on the other end began speaking about, but about 6 words in, she began about, "from Mtv, and Justin was suppose to be outside 20 minutes ago...do YOU know where he is?" I looked about the room blindly and saw no sign of Kuhns. I got up off the bed and marched through the apartment looking for my roomie when I discovered him standing in the kitchen.
I said into the receiver, "I found him, he's in the kitchen. Kuhns, the Limo is outside." After that last bit of news, Kuhns looked down to his dormant telephone, used a curse word, and began to hustle to slip his shoes on. With my 'Job' done my attention went back to the Mtv exec on my telephone...then it struck me. "So how did you get my number out of curiousity?"
Without hesitation she replied, "Well, Justin listed you as his Emergency contact, and this is an emergency...so" Wow. What an honor. If Kuhns died, I would be notified. I've never felt like more of an adult in my entire life. As kuhns scrambled to get his shoes on, I realized something; I had been complaining since I arrived in California that I was socialy the most adapt creature I've ever met, and If I had the chance to shoot the breeze with some higer-up I would blow them away. I saw my reflection in the hall mirror still in my pajamas with the phone on my ear...the 'A' game so many have experienced and come to fear came back in my eyes..."Let's do this".
I started out slow, still on the subject of Kuhns, but then I began talking about my day's plans, about Justin in General, about Nebraska, what I did the night before, if I'm hansome, how she's single...you know the drill. Moore began to come out, and I had this girl laughing like I was Pryor in the 70s. I could tell she was busy, and needed to get off the phone, but I wouldn't let her. I would send her a quick 1-liner, or a compliment of some sort, and she couldn't get enough. I had her hook-line-sinker and just kept rolling.
When I decided the converstaion could end, I drifted toward calling back or something or other and we began our good-byes (not without me hitting on her one more time). She laughed hard again, and I pushed the 'end' button. I looked at the call time, and I had turned a 30second converstation into an 8 minute social meet-and-greet. If felt really good to practice the old skill, and gave me plenty of reassurance that when the time is right...I can and WILL knock them dead. I just have to wait for my chance to have that conversation or meeting...and they're toast.
Something big is on the way...I can feel it. (Or maybe that's just the morning duece.)
So Kuhns got scouted to audition for the Mtv show 'Next'. I don't really know what the show is about, but it has something to do with him going on a date or something or other. Long story short, after his second audition he was selected to go on this whole date scenerio. Great. Good for him. The plan was for him to be picked up by a limo at 7:00am this morning outside of our apartment. Great.
Last night after a crushing tennis match with Norris (more holds the trouphy for yet another week) I came home to take a shower and lay around 'till Bed-e-bye. Once about 12:30am rolled around, I gave the sandman the headsup and layed my horribly attractive head down for some much deserved rest.
My alarm is going off. My alarm is going off. My alarm is SO loud. My alarm is going off. I roll over to hit my alarm clock to silence. I hit it once, I hit it again, I begin hitting every button trying to get its pulsating unique ring to stop its intervals of annoyance. Only after I realized the alarm was going off in 4 second intervals that I realized it was actually my telephone ringing.
After looking about the room to assure no one had see my emberassment, I picked up the phone to view the dead man's identity(I thought it was TJG, and I was going to kill him) on my caller ID. Upon seeing a unidentified California number, I thought it could be any one of my LA contacts, and I threw on my best 7:00am voice and prepared to hear from my big break.
Blade Miracle has begun to redicule Kuhns. Its become his new game I guess. He enjoys it. For some reason, Justin's phone has the propensity to drop calls frequently. His phone just won't ring and there will be no missed call notification or voice message of any kind. His phone just won't ring. Blade loves it, and calls justin all the time. Just last week Blade, in jest, said "Kuhns, I hope you miss an important call because your phone sucks."
I don't remember what the woman on the other end began speaking about, but about 6 words in, she began about, "from Mtv, and Justin was suppose to be outside 20 minutes ago...do YOU know where he is?" I looked about the room blindly and saw no sign of Kuhns. I got up off the bed and marched through the apartment looking for my roomie when I discovered him standing in the kitchen.
I said into the receiver, "I found him, he's in the kitchen. Kuhns, the Limo is outside." After that last bit of news, Kuhns looked down to his dormant telephone, used a curse word, and began to hustle to slip his shoes on. With my 'Job' done my attention went back to the Mtv exec on my telephone...then it struck me. "So how did you get my number out of curiousity?"
Without hesitation she replied, "Well, Justin listed you as his Emergency contact, and this is an emergency...so" Wow. What an honor. If Kuhns died, I would be notified. I've never felt like more of an adult in my entire life. As kuhns scrambled to get his shoes on, I realized something; I had been complaining since I arrived in California that I was socialy the most adapt creature I've ever met, and If I had the chance to shoot the breeze with some higer-up I would blow them away. I saw my reflection in the hall mirror still in my pajamas with the phone on my ear...the 'A' game so many have experienced and come to fear came back in my eyes..."Let's do this".
I started out slow, still on the subject of Kuhns, but then I began talking about my day's plans, about Justin in General, about Nebraska, what I did the night before, if I'm hansome, how she's single...you know the drill. Moore began to come out, and I had this girl laughing like I was Pryor in the 70s. I could tell she was busy, and needed to get off the phone, but I wouldn't let her. I would send her a quick 1-liner, or a compliment of some sort, and she couldn't get enough. I had her hook-line-sinker and just kept rolling.
When I decided the converstaion could end, I drifted toward calling back or something or other and we began our good-byes (not without me hitting on her one more time). She laughed hard again, and I pushed the 'end' button. I looked at the call time, and I had turned a 30second converstation into an 8 minute social meet-and-greet. If felt really good to practice the old skill, and gave me plenty of reassurance that when the time is right...I can and WILL knock them dead. I just have to wait for my chance to have that conversation or meeting...and they're toast.
Something big is on the way...I can feel it. (Or maybe that's just the morning duece.)
Thursday, July 28, 2005
The best YOU'VE ever seen.
SO I just finished the tennis match of the century. Norris and I destroyed each other for a little over two hours of brutal game-play. It was truely the greatest match since Jimmy Connors toed up against Micheal Chang. Norris the "Star City Serpent" came into the match really tossing some heat across that net, but I must say I, the "Tennis Machine" came through victorious through a number of power serves and skill savvy manuvers.
In other news, I quit my job at Barnes and Noble (I put in my two weeks rather) so I'll be finished with that noise fairly soon. Hopefully my life will come back to being amazing after that point. Just this week has been wonderful since I have started writing and staying out a little later each night. I must confess, I don't care for LA during the day, but at night LA is one of the greatest places on earth. Sure its 80% more dangerous, but it seems like the whole fast-paced aspect of this town melts away, and its back to life. I've started exploring town lately after dark, and I must say it's terribly exciting.
Going off of that, Kuhns and I went down to Santa Monica today. For those of you without a map, Santa Monica is in LA (over the Mts-not in the Valley where I live) so its always exciting to actually go into the 'real' LA. When Kuhns and I hit Ocean Drive looking for the art supply store, we decided to roll the windows down to get a feel for the sea breeze. Sure enough, by the coast the weather is always AMAZING! Today in the Valley it was about 85ish, in Santa Monica it was like 72. It was beautiful. Not to mention the ratio of beautiful women to me was strongly in my favor(I hit on a girl at the art store and got shot down pretty hard, so some things aren't any better on the coast.)
Blade Miracle graduates from college on Saturday. I'm excited for him. I barely remember my graduation. All I remember was how much fun I had. It's hard to believe it was so long ago, and that I actually did it. I told Blade to savor the flavor for me.
Speaking of Blade and the guys, they literally got 'hooked up' with a free show at the Whiskey tomarrow so they are practicing in the living room as I type. This show should be pretty huge for them, so I'm excited for what they do. I hope it goes well for them.
I have so many back stories I need to catch everyone up on, but I never have time to sit down and write them all down. I will...I promise. They all should be pretty funny or interesting at least, so we'll see how it goes.
In other news, I quit my job at Barnes and Noble (I put in my two weeks rather) so I'll be finished with that noise fairly soon. Hopefully my life will come back to being amazing after that point. Just this week has been wonderful since I have started writing and staying out a little later each night. I must confess, I don't care for LA during the day, but at night LA is one of the greatest places on earth. Sure its 80% more dangerous, but it seems like the whole fast-paced aspect of this town melts away, and its back to life. I've started exploring town lately after dark, and I must say it's terribly exciting.
Going off of that, Kuhns and I went down to Santa Monica today. For those of you without a map, Santa Monica is in LA (over the Mts-not in the Valley where I live) so its always exciting to actually go into the 'real' LA. When Kuhns and I hit Ocean Drive looking for the art supply store, we decided to roll the windows down to get a feel for the sea breeze. Sure enough, by the coast the weather is always AMAZING! Today in the Valley it was about 85ish, in Santa Monica it was like 72. It was beautiful. Not to mention the ratio of beautiful women to me was strongly in my favor(I hit on a girl at the art store and got shot down pretty hard, so some things aren't any better on the coast.)
Blade Miracle graduates from college on Saturday. I'm excited for him. I barely remember my graduation. All I remember was how much fun I had. It's hard to believe it was so long ago, and that I actually did it. I told Blade to savor the flavor for me.
Speaking of Blade and the guys, they literally got 'hooked up' with a free show at the Whiskey tomarrow so they are practicing in the living room as I type. This show should be pretty huge for them, so I'm excited for what they do. I hope it goes well for them.
I have so many back stories I need to catch everyone up on, but I never have time to sit down and write them all down. I will...I promise. They all should be pretty funny or interesting at least, so we'll see how it goes.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Worst Night Ever Man.
As many of you know, yesterday was Saturday. The day really started off on the right foot as I inproperly set my alarm clock, only to be woken up by a very polite, but dissapointed Barnes and Noble manager.("Ah, Matt...ah...its ahhh, almost 7...are you going to come in today do you think?) So after a brutal 3.5 hours in the 'coal mine', I headed back to the apartment to get a bite and await Hell...
For me, Hell is not a place of brimstone and fire, but its a place of denim and air-conditioning. The two are alike in that both seemed to be fueled by pain and suffering. bloomingdales could possibly be the worst job on earth. Yesterday I almost just walked out. Rediculous.
Anyway, I worked in Hades until 8:30pm, then headed home. My night was supposed to be exciting in that I was invited to a party in Hollywood. Before you start desperately seeking party pictures on the internet of me three-way kissing Paris and Nicole, allow me to tell you that the party was in Hollywood, it was not a "Hollywood Party". It was an opening for a theatre company that my friend Sean is a part of. He thought it would be cool for me to come down and meet some people in the bizz, and get a feel for the theatre they are creating.
Great. So I get home from a horrible long day of working, take a breather for about an hour, and then I get ready to hit the scene. I left my apartment in Sherman Oaks about about 10:30. Now Sean told me the party was ON Santa Monica...I thought he said it was IN Santa Monica. The two locations are about 20 miles away from one another. So like an idiot, I headed down the 405 to Santa Monica, then proceeded to drive around Santa Monica for about an hour looking for the cross street. It was then that I broke down, put my manhood on the shelf, and called Sean for directions. Sean, ever the gentleman, chuckled to himself and said, "Ah, dude, we're in Hollywood." It was at that moment that I realized, had I had taken the 101 south, I could have been there in about 10 minutes from my apartment in Sherman Oaks. So instead of taking the 405 back to the 101, I decided to take Santa Monica Blvd half-way across town to get to Hollywood.
Santa Monica Blvd was a horrible idea in that they were doing construction all night on the whole street, so there was delay after delay, then a huge concert got out at Hollywood Bowl which I had to drive through which meant people walking everywhere and extremely slow traffic.
After another HOUR I finally arrived at the party. I got out of the car angry at the world, and my legs were also asleep. I pretty much drove from Omaha to Kearney looking for this party and I remained inside a 12 mile radius of where I lived. LA IS AWSOME!
The party itself was pretty cool. I met a lot of girls who were: 1)my age or older 2)actresses/models 3)BEAUTIFUL. I also met one of the head make-up artists for X-men 3, and he told me all about how me had to work all week with Kelsey Grammer. The theatre director also gave me one of the finest compliments I have ever recieved. IT was terribly encouraging in this crazy city.
All in all, my night was pretty lame, but I learned a little more about LA.
What did you think of the night Mr. Little Jeans?
Worst night ever man.
For me, Hell is not a place of brimstone and fire, but its a place of denim and air-conditioning. The two are alike in that both seemed to be fueled by pain and suffering. bloomingdales could possibly be the worst job on earth. Yesterday I almost just walked out. Rediculous.
Anyway, I worked in Hades until 8:30pm, then headed home. My night was supposed to be exciting in that I was invited to a party in Hollywood. Before you start desperately seeking party pictures on the internet of me three-way kissing Paris and Nicole, allow me to tell you that the party was in Hollywood, it was not a "Hollywood Party". It was an opening for a theatre company that my friend Sean is a part of. He thought it would be cool for me to come down and meet some people in the bizz, and get a feel for the theatre they are creating.
Great. So I get home from a horrible long day of working, take a breather for about an hour, and then I get ready to hit the scene. I left my apartment in Sherman Oaks about about 10:30. Now Sean told me the party was ON Santa Monica...I thought he said it was IN Santa Monica. The two locations are about 20 miles away from one another. So like an idiot, I headed down the 405 to Santa Monica, then proceeded to drive around Santa Monica for about an hour looking for the cross street. It was then that I broke down, put my manhood on the shelf, and called Sean for directions. Sean, ever the gentleman, chuckled to himself and said, "Ah, dude, we're in Hollywood." It was at that moment that I realized, had I had taken the 101 south, I could have been there in about 10 minutes from my apartment in Sherman Oaks. So instead of taking the 405 back to the 101, I decided to take Santa Monica Blvd half-way across town to get to Hollywood.
Santa Monica Blvd was a horrible idea in that they were doing construction all night on the whole street, so there was delay after delay, then a huge concert got out at Hollywood Bowl which I had to drive through which meant people walking everywhere and extremely slow traffic.
After another HOUR I finally arrived at the party. I got out of the car angry at the world, and my legs were also asleep. I pretty much drove from Omaha to Kearney looking for this party and I remained inside a 12 mile radius of where I lived. LA IS AWSOME!
The party itself was pretty cool. I met a lot of girls who were: 1)my age or older 2)actresses/models 3)BEAUTIFUL. I also met one of the head make-up artists for X-men 3, and he told me all about how me had to work all week with Kelsey Grammer. The theatre director also gave me one of the finest compliments I have ever recieved. IT was terribly encouraging in this crazy city.
All in all, my night was pretty lame, but I learned a little more about LA.
What did you think of the night Mr. Little Jeans?
Worst night ever man.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Louis XIV
So I saw this Painting at the Getty yesterday...I saw IT! It was seriously about 10 feet tall and 6 feet wide. It was bigger than Gilmore's underpants!(keepn' you in check old boy) I hope to have some of my Getty photos up soon, so keep your eyes peeled.
In other news, there is an 18-year old who is way up on my Jammie. Big deal, I should be used to that you say, but she works at bloomingdales and is always giving me these 'sexy' looks when she walks through my area. I'll be honest with you, she's smokin' hot, but c'mon...she's 18. Everytime she talks to me about 'hanging out' later, and about how "she just doesn't know what she's going to do alone tonight" All I can think about is how she was in 8th grade when I graduated from highschool. Everytime she gives me a look all I see is Tom Anderson's little sister...This isn't Viet Nam, there are rules.
I have an obsession with wobblers. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the craze that is sweeping my apartment (or are just cooler than me), wobblers are pretty much Weebles that Disney ripped off the concept for, and slapped different characters on. There are 50 different wobblers each featuring a Disney Cartoon personality of some sort to commenorate the 50th aniversery or something. Aren't you supposed to get gold for your 50th or something...boy, Disney really took it up a notch and skipped the gold/platinum and went straight to the wobblers...oh who am I kidding, I buy the big friggin' box of Frosted Flakes just to get my hands on 'em. (I think I got like 8 already)
I talked to Brittney tonight for the first time since our "falling apart". It was akward in that I still like her, but I'm glad I actually don't like her. Hmmm. That makes about as much sense as glasses on a cat-fish. Well, after that comment I guess I'm going to go pan-handle for gold. 5:30 comes around so fast.
"I'm Going to quit drinking" he said
Last evening provided a trip down fraternity "memory lane" as I was introduced to a new aquaintance who proved to be 'troubled' at best.
The evening started out fairly shapely as I returned back to the apartment from a day long visit to the Getty Art Center (probably the coolest place I've visited in LA so far) The Getty is pretty much in Beverly Hills, so its just a quick trip down the 405, but I decided to be rock and roll and took Sepulveda home. It was on this Bohemian Rhapsody that I realized it was really friggin hot! I was sweating like a pistol in my swealtering un-air conditioned car, but thankfully the Getty is only about a 20 minute trip despite traffic, so I was home lickity-split.
When I arrived home I found that Norris had complied to my invitation for tennis, but due to my newly frocked frustration with the heat, we post-ponned our game play 'till around 8pm. I took a cat nap on the couch and at around 7:45 I hit the court.
The game was furious as always, with Norris edging me out for the second consecutive game. I left with my head held high however, (I know most of you probably find that hard to believe since I never legitimatly let Norris beat me at anything) and after a much-needed buddy conversation, I returned home to #206. On the way home I realized I had missed a call from Runge-saun so I chatted with him for about 40 minutes outside, just long enough to discover Norris coming home after his shower to hang out.
Norris and I walked in together only to find the apartment reaking of cigarrettes. When we asked Blade about the smell, he replied "They're smoking outside". I assumed he was refering to our neighbors downstairs so I thought nothing of it. When I went to place my keys on the table I was met by a extremely guady hand-bag. It was like a blend of hideous Easter like pastels in a generic plaid pattern. I honestly looked inside only to see if there might be a Cadberry cream egg, or some Jellies. Just then I heard laughing coming from the patio. It was then when Norris and I asked Benji in unison, "Someone's smoking on our porch?" Just then a fairly rediculous guy strolled through the patio door. He was typical LA college guy; blonde, cargo shorts, some sort of short-sleeved button down just a hair too small allowing his 'gut' to peak out each and everytime he reached upwards (which seemed to happen every other moment...I mean, how many times to you need to reach up?)
He was accompanied by some bird who I then realized was the rightful owner of the Easter Bunny's man-bag. We made some slightly akward introductions and I found out his name was Mike, and hers was something else (whooooo cares!) I realized an opportunity to work some new material, so I put on my game face and really worked the room. The bird was all over my game, which was good to know I still had the touch, but was lame because...let's face it, "Must be this pretty to ride" (not like that perv)
Blade decided to take Mike to in-and-out while I chilled out on the couch, took in some tele, and worked this bird just a little more. I guess she was kinda pretty, but not really 'up to par' so I wasn't exactly gaming on her or anything. We chatted for a bit and when Blade came back we popped in Million Dollar Baby to take the edge off.
Speaking of taking the edge off, Mike and the Bird had brought over some brews for some reason or other, but they were actually the only ones drinking(I kicked the habit, Benji was sick, Kuhns tired, and norris and jeff just don't roll like that) So Mike had a few in him when we turned out attention to Clint Eastwood.
Half-way through the picture the affects of Mike's consumption seemed to catch up with at an alarming rate. Mike, a man most of us did not know, walked into our kitchen and began going through our kitchen in search of food. I shot Norris a glance of, "I don't think so", and he replied with "Yeah". Mike asked if we had any food and we told him to come back and sit down. Ten minutes later Mike stood up and said, "I'm going to crash" and proceeded to walk down our hallway to the bedrooms. We all sat wide-eyed wondering if this was actually happening only to all turn to Blade almost in unison as a sort of way of saying, "Blade, get this guy under control." Blade again brought Mike back to the living room. Ten minutes later Mike returned to the kitchen, this time in search of what we believed he described as "juice", but again we told him to come back. By this time there was an akward air in the room as the bird sat there obviously embarrassed of her friend, while we all sat wondering how we were going to get this fool out of our place. Later Mike passed out on our carpet not before unleashing the spawn of hell in the form of Methane gas from some obvious digestive difficulties.
As the film came to a close, we began to turn out the lights, the tele, and all looked at the bird. She picked up the hint and sort of "dragged" Mike up off the floor and told him they were leaving. Mike looked about the room at our discusted faces and headed toward the door.
In standard, "I made a fool of myself in front of sober people fashion" Mike left Blade a message which simply stated: "I have a problem, I need to stop drinking."
Long live the Greek system and its ideals!
The evening started out fairly shapely as I returned back to the apartment from a day long visit to the Getty Art Center (probably the coolest place I've visited in LA so far) The Getty is pretty much in Beverly Hills, so its just a quick trip down the 405, but I decided to be rock and roll and took Sepulveda home. It was on this Bohemian Rhapsody that I realized it was really friggin hot! I was sweating like a pistol in my swealtering un-air conditioned car, but thankfully the Getty is only about a 20 minute trip despite traffic, so I was home lickity-split.
When I arrived home I found that Norris had complied to my invitation for tennis, but due to my newly frocked frustration with the heat, we post-ponned our game play 'till around 8pm. I took a cat nap on the couch and at around 7:45 I hit the court.
The game was furious as always, with Norris edging me out for the second consecutive game. I left with my head held high however, (I know most of you probably find that hard to believe since I never legitimatly let Norris beat me at anything) and after a much-needed buddy conversation, I returned home to #206. On the way home I realized I had missed a call from Runge-saun so I chatted with him for about 40 minutes outside, just long enough to discover Norris coming home after his shower to hang out.
Norris and I walked in together only to find the apartment reaking of cigarrettes. When we asked Blade about the smell, he replied "They're smoking outside". I assumed he was refering to our neighbors downstairs so I thought nothing of it. When I went to place my keys on the table I was met by a extremely guady hand-bag. It was like a blend of hideous Easter like pastels in a generic plaid pattern. I honestly looked inside only to see if there might be a Cadberry cream egg, or some Jellies. Just then I heard laughing coming from the patio. It was then when Norris and I asked Benji in unison, "Someone's smoking on our porch?" Just then a fairly rediculous guy strolled through the patio door. He was typical LA college guy; blonde, cargo shorts, some sort of short-sleeved button down just a hair too small allowing his 'gut' to peak out each and everytime he reached upwards (which seemed to happen every other moment...I mean, how many times to you need to reach up?)
He was accompanied by some bird who I then realized was the rightful owner of the Easter Bunny's man-bag. We made some slightly akward introductions and I found out his name was Mike, and hers was something else (whooooo cares!) I realized an opportunity to work some new material, so I put on my game face and really worked the room. The bird was all over my game, which was good to know I still had the touch, but was lame because...let's face it, "Must be this pretty to ride" (not like that perv)
Blade decided to take Mike to in-and-out while I chilled out on the couch, took in some tele, and worked this bird just a little more. I guess she was kinda pretty, but not really 'up to par' so I wasn't exactly gaming on her or anything. We chatted for a bit and when Blade came back we popped in Million Dollar Baby to take the edge off.
Speaking of taking the edge off, Mike and the Bird had brought over some brews for some reason or other, but they were actually the only ones drinking(I kicked the habit, Benji was sick, Kuhns tired, and norris and jeff just don't roll like that) So Mike had a few in him when we turned out attention to Clint Eastwood.
Half-way through the picture the affects of Mike's consumption seemed to catch up with at an alarming rate. Mike, a man most of us did not know, walked into our kitchen and began going through our kitchen in search of food. I shot Norris a glance of, "I don't think so", and he replied with "Yeah". Mike asked if we had any food and we told him to come back and sit down. Ten minutes later Mike stood up and said, "I'm going to crash" and proceeded to walk down our hallway to the bedrooms. We all sat wide-eyed wondering if this was actually happening only to all turn to Blade almost in unison as a sort of way of saying, "Blade, get this guy under control." Blade again brought Mike back to the living room. Ten minutes later Mike returned to the kitchen, this time in search of what we believed he described as "juice", but again we told him to come back. By this time there was an akward air in the room as the bird sat there obviously embarrassed of her friend, while we all sat wondering how we were going to get this fool out of our place. Later Mike passed out on our carpet not before unleashing the spawn of hell in the form of Methane gas from some obvious digestive difficulties.
As the film came to a close, we began to turn out the lights, the tele, and all looked at the bird. She picked up the hint and sort of "dragged" Mike up off the floor and told him they were leaving. Mike looked about the room at our discusted faces and headed toward the door.
In standard, "I made a fool of myself in front of sober people fashion" Mike left Blade a message which simply stated: "I have a problem, I need to stop drinking."
Long live the Greek system and its ideals!
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