Caffeine

Here's a quick little thing that I've noticed. I'm jackin' caffeine into my system like it's illegal. And it is having some adverse effects. At least that's what I'm attributing my mental freak-outs too.

Freak-out is too strong a word, but aggressive feelings have been popping up and I've been trying to figure out why.

WHAT I KNOW: The mind attempts to legitimize why the body is reacting the way it is. So if I have an accelerated heart rate or feeling uncomfortable or twitchy, the mind will find an emotional excuse as to why your body is behaving the way it is.

EXAMPLE: When someone upsets you, your body begins to tense up. The brain says that your body is tense because someone is upsetting you, the only way to relieve this is to attach and get the thing that is causing tension to go away. You then become angry and attack.

MY CASE: My body has been reacting to too much caffeine. The mind is falling back on situations and people that I have been angry with, because it has caused the same bodily reactions in the past. So I get angry for no reason at people in my mind and feel aggressive towards them for no legitimate reason.

RESOLUTION: Less caffeine will relax the body and in turn relax the mind.

This is of course only a possible theory, but one I'm sticking to for the time being. I do have some hurt feelings over certain friendships right now and relationships not going in the direction that I want them too (spoiled shit that I am). But my mental response is not logical or balanced, I guess, is the word to use.

Anyway long story short... Gots'ta chill on the sodas!

Heads Up

So I'm working on the whole antidepressant post. I'm trying to find ways to explain it properly. I think it may just be better to free flow it and let you sort out what you will.

Until then I decided to start up a Flickr account so you can check out all of the pictures I've been taking. They aren't all there because I can only upload 100mgs a month. So the others will go up in a bit.

I went out today and decided to take photos of random people. I asked if I could take their picture. Most said sure a couple said no. Not too bad though. It gets me socializing a bit more. It's a start.

So more soon. I'm going to try and get more out on the blog to help keep the writing and brain flowing properly.

Pics

I'll give an exciting and probing update about my time so far on anti-depressants in a day or two, but for now, here are a few more pictures tat have turned into a growing project at work.













I'm slowly getting the entire staff. I have about 30 so far. So I'm making progress.

Portablog

This is my first entry from the exciting new laptop that I recently purchased. It’s a decked out, state of the art, fully loaded, kick ass, and take names Apple Macbook Pro. Yes, very exciting.

Why buy it? Well, I just wanted a level of freedom that I haven’t had in a while. I now have the ability to write, edit, photo-edit and other exciting creative things that I like to do. And yes, I can surf the net and fid porn! I also snagged a special camera bag for my SLR that holds the computer, a couple lenses and some extra crap. So it’s all kinds of levels of cool to a geek like me.

It’s been a while since I‘ve written and since the last time, I quit smoking for just over a month, had a crazy emotional breakdown and almost started drinking again. I settled on starting up smoking instead. So I’m an odd form of success through failure.

I’ve been so freaked out being on this up and down emotional rollercoaster, that I finally made a decision to go on anti-depressants for a while. It will not only help me quit smoking, but should balance me out while I try to get through some of the social and emotional issues that I’ve been starting to work on through therapy. So I’m using them as a temporary aid and not a permanent solution. That’s how this shit should be used.

It’s interesting that I’ve spent the last week or so trying to pinpoint when I really started freaking out again. I’ve gone searching for people to blame and make some form of order out o chaos when I came o a decision just before sitting down to write: This is life. There is no one to blame. Shit happens and I jus need to ride it out and start making decisions that will send me in a more positive direction. I’m sure I’ve made this statement before in a past entry. That’s always the way. I travel in circles or more like spirals. Continually passing by the same point again and again until it finally sinks in and my psychology moves out to he next ring. The learning process begins all over again with new circumstances, new situations.

So I’ll start on the meds on Wednesday or Thursday, depending on when I can actually get to the drug store. If it’s anything like last time, it’ll take about four to five days to start feeling the effects. Hopefully I’ll be able to start looking at the world with a balanced point of view for a while. We’ll see.

Or now, here are a couple of pictures I’ve taken and processed through the software on the laptop







This last one looks like Jenae was taking a picture of herself in a mirror, but I'm actually taing a picture of her taking a picture of me.

Just Sayin'

1.
I’ve been on call all weekend. The call came in early Saturday about some top secret footage coming in and I need to be ready to come in. So it’s Sunday night and I’m still waiting. Never going to see a movie or going out with a friend or those things that I had planned. It’s my own fault. I should have just done it. Not worry about being able to get to work in a couple minutes. Everyone else lies in the valley or O.C., it taking a few extra minutes to trudge across town wouldn’t have been a big deal.

2.
If you’re one of those people that display how much money you make on your MySpace account. Take it down. It makes you look like a total asshole. It’s like sending flowers to your girl at work. It doesn’t show that you care about her; it shows that you are pissing on your territory and you’re more of a collector than a caring human being.


3.
I’m watching Days Of Heaven right now. The new Criterion edition. It’s pretty fucking amazing. The visuals are stunning and I like it a lot more than I remember. This may actually be the first time I’ve ever seen it sober. I wonder how many movies I need to go back and re-watch. How I’ll see them now. I’ve wasted so much time. Bothersome.

4.
Some people need to have as many folks around them as possible. It somehow validates their existence. I’ve never understood why. They can’t just go out with one person, but have to call and pester and get everyone to go out. Maybe they are afraid that they don’t have enough inside them. Maybe they think that they’ll be discovered as a fraud if they spend too much time hanging out with one person. Maybe they’re just scared of being alone.

Keep It Fluffy

This entry is a 3 Musketeers candy bar bitches! This sucker is light and fluffy and keepin’ it simple.

SIDE NOTE:

Have I mentioned I’ve recently grown quite fond of them? I don’t remember eating them as a child, I’m sure I had one or two from Halloweens past, but I don’t remember. So I bought one a few weeks ago and damned if I didn’t think it was one tasty treat. I know, it’s plain and simple and there are no nuts or caramel or fun things in it that make it a real candy bar. Well to that I say, “Fuck you”. They still make the damned thing, so people must eat them. Now I admit they are not as yum-yum as a Charleston Chew (all flavors) but it’s still a fine candy bar.

Plus can you name one other candy bar named after a classic piece of literature? Exactly! The “War and Pieces” niblets never took off and “Nougats from the Underground” was a total disaster. (I dedicate that last one to all you Russian lit. majors out there.)

So good job Mr. Dumas, I may find your writing a little campy, but the candy bar is superb.

END SIDE NOTE. (Yeah it’s a little long for a side note.)

Anyway. I have been trolling e-bay off and on for movie posters to purchase and frame. I’m in a wall hanging mood. Plus I found a place that makes custom size frames on-line. They are well-constructed and inexpensive, thanks for asking.

So I keep running across some seller who prints reproductions. I’m looking for originals, but this place has some nice reprints. Now, every damn poster they sell, they put this picture up next to it.



Honestly, does anyone look at this and say, “Holy shit, it’s like the poster has come to life in my very own home!” I’m hoping it’s a bit of a laugh on the sellers behalf, but there is that part of me that thinks the guy is serious.

Some miniature glasses and black turtle neck wearing guy named Gunter, really wants me to feel what it would be like to have this poster hanging up in my futuristic plastic Ikea house.

And just in case I am a total idiot, I am told that the poster may not look the same in my dwelling and I don’t get any of that cool furniture with the 9.99 I’m spending on the poster!

This of course brings up the dilemma of the night. If I want the poster, should I go out and buy the furniture to guarantee that it will display properly in my shitty apartment?

Of course I do! Don’t I do everything an e-bay seller tells me! How else am I going to live unless other people tell me how too?

So the silver paint, couch, chair, rug, and a wicked lamp (my addition) that has fiber optic dingle-berries hanging off it will cost me approximately $3,458.96. That is without labor for painters, delivery charges or the cost of the poster itself, which I will no longer be able to afford.

Now for the same price I can get 4804 Three Musketeer bars.

The choice is clear. Dumas, you magnificent bastard!

Untitled

So I had my first therapy session on Tuesday. It was good, really good. I think I’ve got a good therapist. He’s very active and the discussion is about seeing where I lack strengths where I want strengths and will start to figure out how to make progress. My issues with social behavior, my relationship issues, these are being addressed with a very adventurous manner. So far, so good.

I’ve of course come to some conclusions on my own and even have little moments that remind me of what it is I’m looking for. I realized today that one of the things I miss most about Shea was the back and forth when it came to my stories. We’d sit over dinner and I’d express my ideas. She’d ask questions, throw walls up that I had to figure out how to get around. It would be a fun and creative time and I feel, I can’t speak for her, that they were fun. The idea of pulling words from the ether that would be the building blocks for images was a really great time. It’s something I want to find again. it's something that I cherish and something that I cherished in our relationship. It's not always a bad thing to have good memories of the past. (There is a wink there.)

Rudderless?

All right, so I’m feeling more rested. I’ve got a therapist who’s going to help me work on any issues I may have.

So, first issue: What the hell am I doing with my life?

I know what I want to do, make movies. So how do I go about it? First I need to write a script. I have no ideas and haven’t had the energy to just start free writing to see what happens.

I’d like to work more on the Film Geek Primer, but I just don’t seem to have the energy to do much on that either. I think it’s because I’m not sure where it’s going, if anywhere, and I don’t want to waste anymore time on things that aren’t going to move me forward. I know, I know, how do I know what it will get me? Well, we don’t have much of an audience and I don’t think we can get any bigger than where we are right now. It’s all a little frustrating. Not sure what to do about that.

The girl I’m interested in and who seems to be the one person who views the world the same way I do is in a relationship with another guy. It’s not going to last, but that doesn’t mean it won’t drag on forever either. She is interested in me and has said so many times. I should just let things run their course. It’s a pain in the ass because I have no control over it, like I have control over anything, and like that Buddhist thing goes, desire leads to suffering. I’m not, “Oh, woe is me” suffering, just frustrated and can’t let it go.

So I have no direction, I’m getting older by the minute and really don’t know what to do about any of it.

I understand that a large portion of society just exists and finds that one thing to work for, like family or money or fame, I’m just not into that. Maybe I should be. Money is nice because it takes certain stresses off, like being able to pay bills and eat, but with the left over all you can really do is buy things. I don’t want things. It’s a nice idea to want things in fantasy, but it just causes clutter and added responsibility that I don’t really want.

And fame? Seriously? I’m in a job that shows nothing but the downside of media popularity, so pardon me if I don’t go in that direction. Hell, even at work I see nothing but fellow employees jumping at a chance to be seen in the background of shots. Really? Does that qualify your existence in some way, shape, or form?

Finally there is family. I don’t have one, so it’s hard to work to keep that part of my life happy. I’m not saying I don’t want one, it’s just not in my life right now and it still scares me a little. I’ve hurt enough people in this lifetime. Do I really want to set it up so I can just fuck up more individuals? Will I? It’s something to work on in therapy.



I’m guessing (hoping) that my batteries are still charging and someday soon the projects and ideas will start flooding back into my brain. We’ll see.

Right now I’m Gene Hackman at the End of “Night Moves”. Shot in the gut on a boat in the middle of the ocean that is just spinning around in circles. I’m still alive and will survive, just feeling a little seasick.

Upswing And Voice Lessons

As always, the pendulum continues to swing. I was feeling at my lowest on Thursday, but after a few more days of rest and just bumming around, I’m feeling better. Actually, I was feeling better after goofing around on Thursday for a bit. I went to I-Hop for a burger and deep fried cheesecake. Nothing like junk food to make you feel better emotionally, if not worse physically.

In honor of my three years clean and sober I ordered some poster frames for my collectables. Soon I’ll be able to be a cool geek with some design flare. I originally wanted to throw my business at a local guy, but he was going to charge me 99 buck a frame. I found the exact same style and deal online for 54 bucks each. Ah the internet, helping to destroy brick and mortar one brink at a time.

Anyway, I was having a conversation with myself when I wondered if I was possessed. I realized that there were two very distinct voices in my head. I’m pretty sure they have always been there, so I decided to engage the voice that I felt was the one I had less control over. Maybe this is standard in everyone, the opposing side wanting to be heard and understood. Instead of thinking about how it should answer, I just let it answer. Let it run wild and say what it wanted to say. So I asked it questions.

I am Jack's inner voice:

Me: So what do you want?

Voice: I want to be heard.

Me: How.

Voice: Write.

Me: What if you’re no good at it?

Voice: Does it really matter?

Me: Not really as long as I’m writing.

Voice: Exactly.

Me: What about the Primer?

Voice: Not enough.

Me: So what will you write?

Voice: Just be open to it when it comes.

Me: Are you a demon?

Voice: Stop acting stupid.

Me: Right, got it.

And I stopped. It went away fro now. It’ll start screaming at me at some point and I need to start listening when it does. Perhaps it’s that part of me that needs to exist to make me whole. Maybe I’m just being an idiot. Maybe… I dunno.

Santo Year 3

September 27th = 3 years clean and sober.

Uh, hooray?

Sure why not. Honestly, I don’t really care. I want to care, I want to think I’ve accomplished something but honestly, with everything out there to reach for and achieve this is small potatoes.

Anyone can throw it all away and pull himself or herself back together. That’s what all the storybooks tell us. So this is nothing spectacular, noting original, nothing worth gabbing about, so let’s move on shall we.

I’m in the middle of a five day weekend. I was forced to take a break. I didn’t want to. I want it made clear that I wasn’t suspended, I was told to take a few days off because I’ve been overworked and need the rest.

All of it happened when I tried t find out about seeking therapy. I thought things like this were supposed to be kept confident. I thought that discussing an employee who asks about seeking help is not to be shared. As a matter of fact I believe it’s illegal. Oh, right it is! Mutha Fucka, I been screwed!

So I asked about EAP to find out about seeing a therapist. I’m tired, burned out and feeling angry, so I figured talking to a licensed professional about it would come in handy. Not a bad idea, right. So I’m asking to get a phone number and within ten minutes I’m being pulled into an office by the head honcho and I’m being asked about what’s going on.

I get it they’re being concerned. They’re being kind and caring and want to help. But it’s not their fucking problem. All I wanted was a phone number. It’s not that tough.

So I’m told to take the rest of the week off and do what I need to do to take care of myself. Now I’m bored shitless and trying to figure out what to do. I don’t want to veg, but that seems to be all I can do right now.

I don’t want to spend money, but there is very little to do in this town if you don’t’.

Blah, Blah, blah….

I'm not even checking the spelling or grammar on this crap. Oh wait, do I ever?

55 Days Beat That

Well, I finished out working 55 hours straight at work. Pretty crazy. A record I wouldn’t recommend trying to beat. It’s not worth it.

I slept 12 hours Friday night and have been napping on and off for the past two days. My body has started to relax, so now all my muscles are sore as hell. I’ve been popping zinc and Echinacea to make sure I don’t catch a cold from the shift in schedule.

Now that I’ve had a bit of free time I have remembered why I worked so much in the first place, other than the fact work needed to be done.

Time off means I need to spend time with myself. I get all introspective and start looking at where I am in life and why I’m not further along... Oh, right, drunk and junkie loser. Now I remember.

I’ve also been thinking about the relationships I’ve fucked up and the ones I still have.

If someone says to you, “I don’t see us together right now.” Write it off. It means if they can’t find someone that fits the bill, you are on the back up list. I should know this, but keep fighting for the losing side. It’s silly I can’t read between lines properly. I just want to be talked to at face value. Hurt my feelings, trust me I’ll hurt yours at some point. I know nobody wants to hurt anyone, but it’s kind of selfish to try and spare feelings. Rip the fucking tape off, don’t pull it slowly, it’s simple fucking logic.

However hurt I was when Shea dumped me, at least she dumped me. The foolish part was me thinking I could try to maintain a friendship. I’m not built that way. I can’t accept things too soon. I need time to prove I’m worth something to myself. My greatest flaw? A lack of self-esteem. I know everyone has levels of it, I just don’t like the way I handle it.

Go this is just a bunch of self-pity bullshit. I’m better than this.

Success

It's official. I have been promoted and given a raise.

That's good news.

I've now worked 52 straight days and ended up pulling 32 hours over the weekend because of a certain former football player deciding to steal some trading cards and getting arrested again.

That's bad news.

It's a crazy world and I'm just plowing through it right now.

More soon.

Right now...bedtime.

Understanding

How does a person learn to understand something? I, of course, can’t say all people come to understand something the same way, but I have my own theory as to how I learn.

I have to go through it. Touch it, see it, and make it a tangible item so the concept becomes clear.

For years I would write in journals about how I knew I was an alcoholic and drug addict. It didn’t help me overcome it, because they were just words. I could hear stories and watch films about it, but could never relate it to who I was or why I was so deep into it.

Then my life began to disintegrate around me and my problem became a physical manifestation around me. I moved through it. I felt the physical pain of detoxing, the humiliation of bankruptcy, the loss of another relationship. I physically witnessed what my life had become and what I was doing to myself and to others.

It was real and not words on paper. There was no longer any escape into dreams or delusions.

My most recent trouble that cost me a friendship was because I had to understand. I could theorize and fantasize about the "if" and "why", but I had to see for myself. What made the situation what it was? What were the physicality’s that placed me in my position?

Now I know. Perhaps the price was a little high, but I learned what was what.



It’s funny, walking home after the disintegration the other night, I had the bell go off in my head as to how the whole thing could have been avoided. I could have asked permission. I might have been told no, but I could have asked and explained why it was so important for me.

Then again, I probably didn’t understand why I was doing it in the first place until I had done it and gotten in trouble. This is another part of my character that bothers me at times. I have my hidden logic and I can’t explain it until it’s over and the shit has hit the fan.

I have to learn by doing, it’s part of my make up. If I can accept this, if I can find a way to explain it to others in any given situation, perhaps I can avoid causing pain.

Maybe.

4:45 A.M.

Still awake. Not even tired. My brain just keeps pouring through the details of my misdeeds and won’t stop.

It runs through alternate versions, what I should have done, what I could have done. All of it worthless and means nothing.

Talked to Stef about my inclination for retardation. She says I’m just a person who makes mistakes (everyone does quite a bit) and if the friendship is real, it’ll make it through this bump. She also says I’m not a loser, which is nice to hear but can’t really get past the hard shell of loser that is covering my brain right now. She’s a really good and sweet person.

The toughest part (it always is) is not self-imploding and lose my job or anything else right now because I can’t stop feeling like an idiot.

I have this self-fulfilling prophecy thing where I blast everything apart to help me prove that I am a reject of a human being.

I’m just rambling now.

Did I mention “Permanent Wednesday”? It’s the new catch phrase for me it seems.

When employed, a person usually gets the weekend off. This is something I’m told, I’ve yet to see any proof. So when you start on Monday, it may be crappy because it’s the beginning of the week, but you’ve just had the weekend to relax.

Wednesday, for people keeping track, is in the middle of the week. You’ve worked a couple days; you have a couple more to go. I’m stuck in Wednesday. The weekend happened sometime in the past and will happen some day in the future, I just don’t know when for sure. Hence: Permanent Wednesday.

It’s a catchy little phrase and also plays a little off of Jerry Stahl’s, “Permanent Midnight.” I’m using it as the title for my non-existent autobiography until I can find a new one.

I’m not writing an autobiography. That would seem a little pathetic, self indulgent, ridiculous. I am working on a one-man show though. Just kidding.

Thoughts Of Drinking

So I screwed up again and have lost a friend who meant a lot to me.

A lot.

Someone I enjoyed spending time with and made me feel good about myself and that life really has some great moments. Lots of laughs, lots of good times, lots of just feeling alive. Very few people can make me feel that way.

But I screwed it up.

So for the first time in a long time, I feel like going out and getting plastered. I’m not going to, that would only prove that everything I am thinking about myself at this moment is right and that I am a useless piece of garbage. That would just be a giant step back and one I might not recover from. So I’m not going to go out and buy a bottle.

The hardest part is not knowing how angry they are with me. How much they hate me.

I just want to make things right and I know that it is impossible right now and I feel helpless. It’s that feeling of helplessness that is the scariest.

I get it. I don’t have any control over anything accept my actions and it’s losing control of my actions that gets me into trouble.

I want to be able to set it aside and get a good night sleep. That ain’t gonna happen folks. I’m not wired that way. I need to suffer in my thought apparently. Some form of penance that I have in my mind so I can continue to punish myself way beyond any normal level of punishment. It’s probably some part of the catholic upbringing. I can’t be certain. Maybe it’s the way I was raised.

If there was something I could do, anything at this moment to make up for it, I would. But, nope.

I’m hoping I can learn from this mistake because I just can’t seem to get certain things through my head.

It’s so hard for me to trust, it’s so hard for me to trust and have faith that everything has its purpose and even if I don’t understand it today, someday I will.

I hate hurting people, and that’s what I did.

I’m really sorry.

Just A Jerk

I do a lot of things that I don’t like.

I do things out of a necessity to understand and it gets me in trouble.

I do things that hurt and scare other people.

I do things that remind me that I have a lot of growing up to do.

I do things that are selfish.

I do a lot of things that remind me that I’m a loser.

I do things that mean nothing.

I do things and I deserve to be hated.

I do things and I deserve to be loathed.

I do things that prove I am not a nice person.

I do things to help myself understand and it is always at a cost.

I do things that I simply shouldn’t.

I need to start doing things right and I just don’t know if I can.
I do a lot of things that I don’t like.

I do things out of a necessity to understand and it gets me in trouble.

I do things that hurt and scare other people.

I do things that remind me that I have a lot of growing up to do.

I do things that are selfish.

I do a lot of things that remind me that I’m a loser.

I do things that mean nothing.

I do things and I deserve to be hated.

I do things and I deserve to be loathed.

I do things that prove I am not a nice person.

I do things that I simply shouldn’t.

I do things to prove I don't deserve anything.

I do things that simply prove I'm a jerk and a crappy human being.

They were all right.

One Brief Glimpse

I ordered a late lunch from Bassa Nova and was walking down to pick it up. The route I take are through some back alleys and they are just that, alleys. Discarded furniture, a sleeping homeless person, dumpsters proclaiming, “Ziva is a fag”. The surrounding apartments run about four to five stories up. It’s an alley.

So I’ walking down and I catch the sound of a violin. It’s live, you can tell the difference. The lone instrument is cleanly playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. I think it’s Autumn. maybe Spring, I always forget which is which.



I was really struck for a moment and stopped to listen. In the middle of all this concrete, trash and broken glass came this beautiful piece of music. I’d say it would be akin to finding a flower growing through the pavement.

Just a really nice moment.

Just Tired

I’m beat. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, just out of it.

I’m having dreams where I think people are going out of town and find out they're not. Ask questions that I’ve already asked and not asking questions thinking I’ve already gotten the answers. I think I’ve even had a brief hallucination or two.

Just strange shit.

I’m looking at my calendar and seeing I haven’t had a day off of work in 29 days and it’s looking more and more that I wont for two to three more weeks. Not good.

I’m in the middle of training a new weekend editor, he’s doing fine, but all I want to do is just edit everything so I can go home. I contain myself, knowing it's better in the long run.

The latest I’ve been able to sleep in is 6:00 and most of the days I’m up between 4:30 and 5:00. It’s grueling and at the end of it, not very satisfying.

I’m glad I have Aaron with me at work. The humor keeps me going most of the time. If it weren’t there I’d have probably jumped out a window by now. If my office had a window, that is.

I’m way behind in getting a new episode of FGP out. I just shot my part for an episode that we shot two weeks ago. It may have only been one week; time is one giant blob right now.

I come home from work and nap for about an hour, which keeps me from falling asleep when I should.

I’m waking up almost every hour on the hour at night; I check my email to see if anyone has written. It’s funny how no one writes me at three in the morning. I wonder why that is? Oh, right, they’re fucking asleep.



There is a light at the end of this tunnel. I know I’m moving through it and I know it’s there, I’m just not seeing it yet. It’ll happen.

There is that part of me that wishes I had a girlfriend, so I could fall asleep in her lap. That comfort and warmth of another caring human being watching over me feels necessary right now. But I’m in no place for that and I couldn’t return any of the caring and compassion that I want to give.

Though at this point I’d settle for a good lay, sleeping in late and a nice breakfast at a decent greasy spoon.


(side note: As I was attempting to upload this picture, I kept looking at the screen wondering why it wasn't uploading. It took me a minute to realize I didn't push the upload button. I'm a fucktard.)

Step Up Stupid Fucker

The latest words of inspiration that adorns the office wall is from an employee who recently moved to San Francisco to pursue a better life and family. The words are simple and to the point.

STUPID FUCKERS!

Heartfelt and honest, that’s how I feel about them.

I’ve been hoisted with a lot more responsibility over the past month and a half than I signed up for. I wasn’t sure what to do about it. Then I realized I didn’t mind the responsibility as much as I minded the pay that went with the responsibility. Other people are doing much less and getting paid much more.

I am not a proactive person and have never felt that I was worth much. I’ve never spoken up or asked for any kind of title change or pay increase. I discussed the possibility with some friends who were very honest and kind with their advice. It boiled down to, “Ask for more money, stupid fucker.”

I approached a couple of supervisors and asked if I could possibly get a title change and raise since I’d accepted so much more. “Of, course.” was the response. “Just write down a title and what you think your salary should be and we’ll take it to the boss.

So I wrote up a few titles, including a couple of joke titles so they’d see I was not being overly serious about this. God forbid they think I really do believe in myself. I then went an extra mile and wrote down all of the things I had been made responsible for and how, given the title change and raise, I could help make the department more efficient and organized.

I presented the letter and my supervisor thought that it was more than fair. (This makes me think I should have asked for more, but I know I can stand firm on what I’ve asked.) She said everything looked great and if it was up to her, there would be no problems. She’s taking it to the big boss people and will stand behind it, which is good.

Now all I have to do is wait and see what the response it.

And in all honesty, I’m worth every penny to them. They are getting a good deal and they’ll know it. If they don’t, time for me to start an exit strategy, or tuck tail between my legs and do as master says.

Videodrome

I haven't shown off any videos for a while, so here are a couple that have crossed my path.

First up a little tribute to everyones favorite intergalactic homosexual, Mr. Sulu.



Now this next one is lonh, but you've got to watch the entire thing it's just great animal nuttiness at it's finest. It features, Lions, Water Buffalo and Crocodile. Plus some human narration that gives new meaning to the words, "No shit,really?"



Hope you enjoyed them. Now go shake that buldge and stay away from the Buffalo.

Lesson Not Learned

This is really more about something I know about myself, but still have not totally grasped how to conquer.

I can be mean. I can be harsh. I can make a snap judgment, knee-jerk reaction that does not always play to the side of good.

This is a defense maneuver that I have always used to defend myself. Someone makes a comment about me that hurts my feelings in some way, I snap back with some snarky comment that can cut to the quick and be quite cruel.

It’s not something that I like about myself. But I know it is something that is a part of me and I must work on it.



I grew up being insulted. I never defended myself. I let myself believe that they were right and that I was useless. I got older and when I finally decided to stand up when I was attacked, I over shot it. There is probably that nurtured part of me that is actually lashing out at all those things that happened as a kid and I take it out on whoever is picking on me.

I used to be worse. I’d attack and hold onto anger and refuse to believe that my defense mechanism was wrong. That it was all right to be mean and cruel.

At least now-a-days I grasp quickly that I make the mistake and try to apologize for it as quickly as possible. Some people have been kind and open enough to understand and some haven’t. That’s the way life works.

So I must practice listening and hearing what I am really being told. I need to see what and why the other person is saying what they are saying. Maybe it’s an accident; maybe it’s just a bad day for them. Maybe they make some valid points but are just not that great at articulating them. Perhaps they don’t even know the work articulate.

I just had a flash of the third step prayer in AA. Not being a fan of religion, I’d rather look at it as some solid words of advice to pay attention to and practice.

“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Apply that to when I feel I am being attacked and I’ve got a solid foundation.

I’d really like other advice anyone can offer, so please don’t be shy. Let me know how you handle situations where you feel that someone is attacking you. I mean that in the verbal attack sense. We can discuss what happens when being attacked by a guy with a sword at some later date.

Thanks.

Long Time

My apologies to the three people that read this site. It’s been a while and it’s been a crazy time.

I’m now the web editor for my job. That’s pretty cool. I blur out boobs and bleep out swear words. Some of my work has been seen on The Today Show and news programs across the country. If you’ve ever wondered who the poor schmuck is who bleeps stuff. It’s me. But it’s a fun job. Fast paced. Quick turn around times. Immediate deadlines. Crazy stuff.

I also have to be at work at 5 am. Yikes! Luckily the new office is just down the street. I think I’ve mentioned that before, but I like to repeat some of the good points.

FGP will be back in a couple of weeks. So you can look forward to that.

I’m enjoying life, having a good time and working towards goals. It’s quite fun.

And I’ll keep saying that until I have to be up at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow.

Some Editing Required

So, I forgot to mention that I ended up getting the editing gig.

I stayed up all night so I could sleep during the day before going to spend an entire night at the Hilton home awaiting Paris’ return. I hit the sack at five and I got a call at seven.

Quick transcription:

Them: John, you didn’t say you were going to be editing.

ME: I didn’t know I was editing. I thought the phone call was telling me what I was going to be doing.

Them: Oh. Well, we need you to edit , so can you come in right now?

ME: Yeah, I’m on my way.

No shower just threw on jeans, a layer of deodorant and headed in. It was good. I spent a couple of days being trained and was thrown into the fire. Apparently I passed with flying colors. I just finished my second week editing yesterday. Susan came in all smiles and said they loved me. She was getting major kudos for hiring me.

I’m glad I could help make her happy. I felt I was letting her down before, but this is a pleasant surprise. I was also complimented by Someone who said she doesn’t give out compliments easily. Since I don’t accept compliments easily, I said I was very thankful for the kind words.

So that’s pretty damned cool.

As far as Film Geek Primer goes, we’re on a bit of a hiatus. Aaron is in the middle of a barrage of weddings this month and I’m getting used to the new job. So it’s best to take a break. I’m still debating if I want to keep going, but I figure after a couple weeks, I’ll be chomping at the bit to get back into it. I’ll takes some time and write some scripts and see if we can start producing some better shows. When I say better, I mean in the direction of the Russ Meyer Episode or Bogart episode and not as many talking heads. We’ll see.

While we’re on hiatus, I’ve started a new blog with my Santo character (where do I end and my character begins?). It’s called Being Brangalito and it’s the adventures of Santo as Brangalina’s nanny. It’s cute and will wrap back into FGP when we start back up.

Busy, busy, busy and I’m making progress in all sorts of areas. Just keep learning and moving forward. That’s how I’m defining my life at this point in time.

Edward Yang R.I.P.

As everyone spreads word about the death of Joel Siegel, I’d like to point out the death of a filmmaker that is getting little notice.

His name is Edward Yang and he passed away from colon cancer on Friday.



I have only seen one “Yi Yi” and it is an extraordinary film.

It is very simple and deals with members of a family asking themselves about the meaning of life. There is something of a plotline, but it is rally more of a character driven story that is subtle in its movements and grand in its quest to analyze the soul.

It runs three hours and feels like an hour and a half. I discovered it back in 2001 after reading a few good reviews. The running time made me feel a little iffy, but I’m glad I took the time out to watch it.

Criterion has recently released it on DVD. Give it a shot, you wont be disappointed.

Sometimes all it takes is one film for a filmmaker to grace your life and make you feel the loss when they pass on. Edward Yang definitely would fit into that category fro me.

I send out my sincerest condolences to his friends and family.

Triumph And Rejection

So the director of the show asked me to give him a ride home on Friday. His car was in the shop, there were tons of issues and he had to catch a six o’clock flight. So, I took off from Glendale at 2:30 to drive him to Santa Monica.

This was a bit of a drive and we hit heavy traffic (shocking) along the way. It was about four when I got him home and figured I’d just call it a day and head home since it was better than driving all the way back to work just to get my stuff and leave again.

Stuck on the 404 I got a call from a fellow PA, saying they were looking for an editor next week. I should call them right away and say I’m interested. So I call right up. I'm told I’ll need to prove my speed so I should come in for a quick sample edit.

I get off on Sunset and haul ass back to work. I made it in record time, busting into work sweaty and jacked up on nicotine.

They toss me in an editing bay and point to two assignments to test me. I whip through them in record time and they like the clips. So I should be set, right? Well, they are short handed in the PA department and have to think about it. They’ll call me during the weekend.

This morning I get a call and it’s someone from the assignment desk. Fingers crossed, I answer. As you can tell from the title of this entry, I didn’t get it. As a matter of fact they didn’t even mention it. All they said was I need to be a runner on Monday night. The shift runs from 8pm until 6am. Holy shit! Seriously? Yep.

I felt a little bummed for a while, but have settled in with the idea. It’s fine, no big whoop. There will be another time and I’ve already passed the audition.

What really bugs me is they didn’t even say, ”Listen, we really need you to do this instead.” or any kind of excuse. It was simply, here’s what you’re doing on Monday, so get ready to go do it. That’s what really bums me out. I wasn’t even properly rejected, just glanced over.

Ah, there is no business like show business.

McGrath’s Poop

So I’m at work and we share an office with that show "Extra". It’s like "Entertainment Tonight", but even more irritating.

So I’m in the bathroom taking a leak and there is a guy in one of the stalls. I’m assuming it’s a guy since it is the men’s room. Otherwise this would be an even more exciting post.

So the toilet in the stall is flushed and out steps the host of "Extra", Mark McGrath (I’m not sure if this is how you spell his name.) For those f you who are musically challenged, McGrath was (is?) the lead singer for the band Sugar Ray. They had a few hits in the late 90’s early 00’s. Now this guy is the host of "Extra"? How the hell does that happen? You’re rockin’ out on stage with your shirt off and someone says, “Hey, that guy would be a great host for pabulum television.” So it happened and there he was washing his hands next to me.

Seeing him does not impress me, I was never a big fan. I do want an answer to the career change, but I decided to be polite. Then I think of a few things that would make me laugh.

Stuff I want to say:

1. “Man, after a good dump I just wanna fly.”
2. “You know man, every morning I have to take a crap too.”

These are of course references to the two big hits that saturated radio back in the day.



Then I remember the one that would be honest.

“Hey, Mr. McGrath, I’ve got a friend up in the Bay Area who is just in love with you.”
“Oh yeah, what’s her name?”
“Todd.”

This is true, Todd had a huge man crush on Mark back in the day. I don’t know if it’s true today, but I find it funny nonetheless.

Anyway, I simply nod and say, “How’s it going.” He says nothing, apparently a bit ashamed to have proven that even famous people have bowel movements. Then he scurries out the door. I wash my hands and leave.

I thought for a second about checking the bowl for McGrath’s remains and maybe bagging it up to send to Todd, but then I realized dry ice and shipping would be too much for a joke, so I went back to work and decided to share this toilet humor with my readers.

Job

So I start my new job tomorrow. It’s a gig for the new show (blank). Yep, I’ve totally sold out and am working for an entertainment gossip show. That’s the way the cookie crumbles when you’re trying to survive in this town.

It’ll be an educational place though. I figure I’ll make some contacts and get up to speed on how other parts of this industry works.

The down side is I’ve got to be there at 7am! That really sucks. It won't be bad in July when we move to the new offices which are right down the street from me. I’ll be able to walk there, which will be nice. But for now I’m driving out to Glendale. That means getting up at 5:45 for the next couple of weeks. I don’t think I’ve done that…ever. So a new yet groggy adventure starts.

It’ll keep my mind off the fact that I’m swimming in lava right now.

Heart Fillet

It’s tough to open your heart to someone. It does tend to feel like that moment in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where Mola Ram pulls the guy’s heart out. Totally exposed and you try to keep everything at a PG-13 rating. Sometimes though you just have to bite the bullet and figure that being tossed into a pit of hot lava will be the easy part.



For me, before making that plunge I have to weigh a lot of things first. Why am I doing it? Is it because I don’t want to be alone? Is it because I just want to be able to check off the relationship box on the list and move on to other issues so I can salvage my existence and say I’m living a full life?

I know I’m not doing it to get laid. I’ve fooled myself enough to pretend that caring about someone isn’t worth the woes of trying to fake love. Plus it’s gotten really hard for me to even use that word. (Note, I’m not in love (I don’t think yet)), I’m just looking at the road in front of me.

What happens when the other person seems to not give a rat’s ass about me or just isn’t willing to make that move. Well, that may be a good thing. Best that someone be rational while I go volcano swimming.

Let’s face it. I’m not anyone’s first choice; I am after all some pretty damaged goods. Self-aware damaged goods but damaged nonetheless. I find it amusing because it's hard for me to fathom anyone not being damaged. It’s just my perspective of life. Every box of ‘Nilla Wafers has that damn wrinkled tear on the edge and you just need to find the one that sounds the fullest when you shake it. So I guess we can remove a few points from the self-awareness column. I'm not saying any of this to be down on myself, even though it sounds like it. Some people in this world are mentally healthier that others. I fall under the others catagory, not a big deal. I don't mind it, neither should you.

So to sum up:

1. Opening up to someone is hard because I fear rejection.
2. I like Indiana Jones and the Tempe of Doom more than the average viewer.
3. Not everyone is damaged and that’s a good thing.
4. ‘Nilla Wafers are a tasty treat especially when dipped in ice cream.

I think I’ve pretty much solved of my problems now. I’m actually just in need of cookies.

Ash Photo

So my mother sent me a picture of Ash today.

It’s pretty odd, I haven’t seen him in close to nine years and haven’t seen a photo of him in about seven.



He looks a lot like his mother, thank god. He also reminds me a little bit of Edward Furlong before he became a drugged out idiot several years back (Furlong, not Ash). I think you can see it around the nose and mouth.

The Blake Booth

Quick Recap:

Bonnie Lee Bakley was murdered in the parking lot of the Italian resteraunt Vitello's in 2001 after finishing a meal. Her husband, actor Robert Blake was accused of the murder.His alibi was he had forgotten his gun in Vitello's and went back in to get it when someone decided to shot her.

This is not only an odd alibi, but so fucking nuts it has to be true.

Blake was accused of the murder, put on trial and acquitted in I think 2004, maybe 2005.



Present Day:

Thursday night I was given the esteemed please of sitting in the booth at Vitello's where this soon to be separated couple shared their last meal. I sat on the side where Mr. Blake sat. Now I want to say, for the record, I can totally see forgetting your gun there. It's in a darker corner of the restaurant and the side of the cushion where I perceived he had set his gun for safe keeping was lost in shadow. There is no coat/gun check, so accidentally leaving it in the booth is totally plausible.

The food was passable. It was maybe one notch higher than an Olive Garden, but way lower than Milano's in Tiburon.

So why did I go? Well, morbid fascination really. It's that weird thing about trying to connect with death, visit the mind of a potential killer, to sit where the star of Electra Glide In Blue sat, all sorts of reasons. Plus, I was hungry.

So, What’s Up?

AZ ADVENTURE

I was in Arizona over Memorial Day. It solidified the theory that you can never go home again. It was never really my home, just a place where I lived for a few years. It had it’s ups and it had its downs, but overall it was a nice experience.

I was staying at my friend Laura’s house. She is the owner of dogs. Three dogs. Three very large, I mean big, dogs. I am not one of those people who sees a medium sized dog and claim it as large. I am not a fan of those toy dog things that seem to be so prevalent in Los Angeles. Whenever I see one, I feel like seeing what my punting skills are like. Anyway, back to the big dogs.

Two of them are greyhounds; she’s a greyhound freak. She has the Greyhound taxi sign on the side of her car and if I rummaged through her closet, which I pondered, I’d discover a t-shirt that reads, “Greyhounds do it with speed”.

She also owns a dog whose breed I can’t pin down. It falls under that, skittish but want to play, confused breeds.

So, I’m sleeping and I do one of those late night shifts in sleep, open eyes to adjust moves that I’m common of doing. Staring back at me with her head on the pillow is one of the greyhounds, Fortuna. This caused an instant reaction for me. See, Greyhounds have very long pointy-heads. Paint it orange and it looks like an orange traffic pylon.


(Fortuna as she looks regularly...


...and with traffic cone on head. You will notice that the color is really the only difference.)


They also have eyes that are large and look pinned back. My depth perception was off due to mid-sleep shifting and I get the impression that an eight-foot long dog head is staring at me. I jump a little, but Fortuna doesn’t move. She just keeps her head on the pillow and follows me with her eyes.

This was apparently the dogs way of playing alpha with ma and letting me know this was her house. Then she closed her eyes, stretched her legs out to jab me in the side and went back to sleep. Crazy fuckin’ dog.

VAN ON FIRE

I was back in CA for one day when a van outside the apartment decided it was time to end its run on this planet and mysteriously catch on fire. We smelled the smoke inside and started looking around to see if we were on fire. Went outside to see if the complex was on fire and discovered the van blazing out on the street. Fire trucks could be heard a couple of blocks away and all of the neighbors stood around, too close, watching it burn. The owner didn’t seem to be present and I think we were all around waiting to see the owner react more than we were there to watch the fire go out. Unfortunately all we got to see was the van melt down and not its owner.

The firemen were very nonchalant when it cam to putting the fire out. They stood around moving slowly to hook things up and looked bored when the hoses finally started up.

Overall, very uneventful, but it reminded me that I was really back in Los Angeles.

Wax On, Wax AAAAAAFFF

So I’m heading to Tucson and figure I might be getting some swimming time in, so I’m going through the whole modern male clean up process.

I am of Italian decent, southern Italy none the less, which means I am one of those animals that tends to run on the furry side. On a 1-10 scale, I’ll rate Robin Williams and Sasquatch at 10 and one of those people with "no hair" disease at 1. I fall into about a 5 category (yes ladies you may now be repulsed). Personally I dig the chest hair thing. It makes me feel grown up even though I act out like a third grader a lot.

So I hop on down to the Rite-Aid to pick up some removal cream. Now, I’ve done it in the past and this is not a fun chore. So I’m reading over a couple of products to find something new and preferably longer lasting. I garb a box of stuff that claims to be non-burning, all natural, blah, blah, blah.

I get home open it up and fuck me if it’s not a type of wax. Spatula, cloth strips the whole deal. Not what I wanted and no indication of it being listed as such on the box. But, I just shelled over the cash, so I’ll give it a shot.

If you have ever applied stuco to a wall, this is worse. The shit sticks to everything, it hurts going on and it’s impossible to get a decent spread, so you’re doing small areas at a time. Simple directions, apply with the grain of the hair, smooth down strip, quickly remove strip against the grain. Guaranteed no burning. There is that fucking no burning again. Yeah, thanks pal, I doubt burning is the problem I’m going to have here.

Count down, 3…2…1…YANK!

MUTHER FUKER!!!!!!!

Done! No more! I’ll blow the cash and go with the burning. This green gel strip of cloth is holding a patch of chest hair and you can actually see the ball at the end of the follicle that has been forced out of it’s home. My chest is bright red and I’ve got a couple of blood splots. It’s that “40 Year Old Virgin” scene and I don’t even have a little old asian lady to scream at.

Luckily I did it over my chest ink, so you can’t see the missing patch too clearly.

Vanity is not my friend.

Crazy Train

So my head has been all over the place the last few days and it doesn’t seem to be slowing down.

Lots up anger, lots of frustration. I’ve been keeping it in check, but really just haywire in my skull. I’ve been doing all of the things that I do to help figure out what the problem is.

It’s the 21st, so that means there are potentially sobriety date issues involved. Going back and forth on caffeine and trying to limit smoking that could be part of it. There is the subconscious turning 35 that might be involved. I may also have another kidney stone, which never helps. It has this way of sending the system in every possible direction.

Then there is the lack of exercise. I think, that my body has gotten so used to it that now I have to keep going in order help stay balanced. I’m sure my brain would go back to its slothful ways over a week or so, but it really seems to be fighting something.

I don’t think I’m having any real psych issues. (At least none that I am consciously aware of.) I’m fine on the money for now, I have a potential job, the show is a little stressful, but I’m finding answers to problems.

It’s probably a little of everything and I need to find the center again. It’s a lot like those little puzzles with the bee-bees inside. You’ve got to keep re-evaluating and make adjustments to try and get it in the clowns nose. It’s always just a fraction off and grows frustrating and you toss it across the room. My life is cardboard clown’s face with my sanity a little bee-bee. I’d toss myself across the room, but we’ve got hardwood floors and I’m wearing shorts. I hate skinned up knees…unless there is crazy sex involved.

35 Up

So I’m officially 35. Holy shit!

It’s actually a good day so far. Conversation with a beautiful woman, bought a couple of DVD’s. Gabe decided to tell everyone it’s my birthday, so I’m getting “old fart” e-mails. Look’s like Gabe needs another beating. You’d think he would have learned after the first one I gave him for being Hispanic.

I’ve only been feeling one piece of trauma and that’s going to the gym. I’m blowing it off today and going crazy eating In-N-Out and El Compadres for dinner. Plus there was a Twix and a bag of Smart Food I’ll tear into tonight when I’m watching one of my flicks.

The gym thing is simple. Whenever I get on the treadmill it asks for all sorts of info. Duration of walk/run, weight, age, incline. It’s the age thing that’s odd. I’ve spent the last year entering 34 and watching me decrease the weight info. Now I have to up the age. It is actually stressing me out a little. I want the machine to flash a message through its LED’s telling me that 35 is the new 25 or something. So tomorrow I’ll face my biggest challenge.

I’ve also had a couple thoughts about stopping the podcast. I realized it was because I’m afraid of the challenge. It comes bubbling up into my brain as boredom, but I realize I’m just scared of finding the challenge of making the episode better. So I stepped up and started looking for new things to try. I’m enjoying the process of strengthening these problem-solving powers. It’s a necessary thing to do if you want to create and it’s a very important thing to do as you get older, keep learning and stretching.

Example: Clint Eastwood. This guy could have still been making mediocre movies and starring across an orangutan if he wanted. Instead he sets his political beliefs aside and starts looking at the world with fresh eyes. He could have stopped and simply made “Flags Of Our Fathers”, but when given the inspiration of making a companion film from the Japanese perspective, he dove right in and made a really great film that far surpasses it’s predecessor. This guy is in his late 70’s early 80’s (I think) and just doing remarkable work.

I should take a page from good ol’ Clint’s book and just keep growing. I’d rather keep moving in that direction than wondering how much longer my dick is going to work.

Oh man, how much longer is my dick going to work?

Give A Little Bit pt. 2

You are right anonymous reader. I did cheat you and basically shit all over it with my empty pimping of the podcast.

So I’m here to apologize.

I will no longer use the podcast in any more entries unless it is organic.

So that being said I will tell you a black out story that has nothing to do with electricity.

My good friend Jack was living with me for a while and we were drinking buddies. Now jack drinks, but I DRINK…DRANK.

So one night we picked up a bottle of Whiskey from the local Safeway. It was some cheap shit that had a deer on the label and the catch phrase, “Master Of All He Surveys”. Yeah, good stuff. And you do feel like you are master of all you survey after finishing off a bottle of it with some pills and a couple of joints. As a matter of fact you see double of all that you survey. That’s a lot to master!

All right, we drive back to the house after drinking by the bay and our roommate (not to be named) and her boyfriend are home. Jack and I are smashed and we’re loud and all that crap. We’re burning disks of each other's music, talking film, relationships and all the other stuff you do when you are drunk and not in the back of a police car.

At some point I say I’m going to get something from my room and as soon as I see the bed, it’s nighty-night for John-O.

I wake up the next morning around 8ish and feel like garbage. Dragging myself out to the kitchen, I start the day with a six-pack and I’m feeling good again. Jack wakes up at about 10 and unnamable roommate and boyfriend had left before I got up.

Jack asks if I heard the roomie and beau banging away in the middle of the night. I slept right through it. Now let me preface this by saying that the unnamable were not an attractive couple. When I say unattractive, I mean fucking ugly. Like one gene away from Elephant men… All right not that bad, but not attractive, accept to each other. Jack launches into the story of the screaming and shouting and verbal stuff that I have thankfully blocked out. I do believe at one point the phrase, “hammer down” was used, but I can’t be sure.

So I was then and am now very grateful to have been blacked out during those festivities. It would have been one of those visuals that would scar me for life.

And in a way this story wraps back around to last night’s entry of love, sex and black outs.

Fine, so it doesn't, but it does have all the elements of sex, drugs and rock & roll.

Give A Little Bit

So, I’ve been having a lot of “love” coincidences recently. This isn’t about my love life or anything sappy, just some very bizarre moments that have made me think about the subject of love.

Incident #1: I was given a book to read called KILLING YOURSELF TO LIVE by Chuck Klosterman. It’s a "kind of" true story about this reporter from Spin magazine traveling across the country visiting locations where famous rock stars have died. He spends most of it contemplating the women in his life and what they have meant to him. He ponders love and all that it entails. I had just finished the chapter where that giant black out happened in NYC and instead of riots or crazy shit happening, every one just danced and partied and enjoyed each other. This lead directly into…

Incident #2: I spent the rest of the evening watching SHORTBUS. It’s the John Cameron Mitchell movie that has real sex in it. It’s main focus is on the balancing of emotional and physical love. A good movie, not great, but well worth the time (if you can deal with guys swallowing their own jizm.) Now the climax of the film, (pun intended) is when everyone’s lives have gone nuts and things are at there lowest, the NYC black out happens.

“Huh”, I say to myself, “That’s some pretty weird coincidental psycho-nutsy- stuff happening.” Two things both dealing with love, relationships and the NYC black out are tossed at me on the same day.

So where do I stand on this. I know love is a human creation, designed to represent emotions that make us feel hopeful and strong. The feelings that keep us going versus the feelings that tear our brain from our skulls when we know we are just spots of dust on the edge of the void. Love is a good thing. Love heals… kind of.

So I walk out to the living room thinking about these two things that have happened and all of this pondering I am doing about the nature of love when I turn on the tv and what is on?

Incident #3: 2046 by Wong Kar-Wai. Kar-Wai is the most romantic filmmaker in the world. He doesn't make, "hope-filled-gooey-ain’t-love-grand-full of fluffy-bunnies" crap. He makes films about love that deal with the great ups and all of the frustrating messy parts that are a part of any relationship. It’s awesome, because you feel so much for the good times and completely understand the arguments and why people can’t say what they feel; because they might not understand those feelings yet.

It was the embodiment of everything that had been passing through my skull that night, after all of this philosophizing that had been tossed on me. All of this in a four-hour period, just nuts, right?

Love is great, love sucks, love is messy and convoluted and you can’t live without it. Well you can, but then life gets kind of boring.

Now I’m going to screw this up by going all shallow on you.
Check out the Film Geek Primer podcast. This week we talk about Russ Meyer. Nothing about love in it, but it does have boobs. And who doesn’t love boobs?

And Now For Something Completely Typical

I think I am one of those people who do better on the phone or through e-mail than I do in real life.

Maybe I’m underestimating myself. Yeah, I’m underestimating myself. Change of topic.

Have I ever cheated on a girlfriend? Yes. Did I enjoy it? Yes. Like I’m supposed to lie here. It had nothing to do with that, "stuck with the same person" shtick that you get with so many people having an affair. I wanted the rush and that’s what I got. This is truly the sign of a person with an addictive personality. I’ll say that because I don’t think I’m one of those “X-treme” types of guys. I don’t need to jump out of a hot air balloon with a bungee-chord velcroed to my balls to get a thrill. Hmmm, well I might try it once.

Why am I bringing this up? I dunno, why not.

Have I ever used a needle? No. Does that leave a lot of things open that I have done? Yes. Are there a lot of things I’ve done that nobody knows about? Kind of. It’s parsed amongst several people who would never be in the same room together. Friends, relatives, ex’s, drunks and junkies (both practicing and clean) put them all together and they could tell you all about me. But that would never happen.

Did I ever tell you about Helen? She was my crack whore neighbor. No? Nice lady, a little out of it, crazy as a cockroach on raid. Once after we’d smoked a couple of bowls and downed some silver bullets, she tried to give my roommate Billy a lap dance. Helen was about four foot six and three hundred plus pounds. Billy was five-eleven and maybe one-forty. It was not pretty, to say the least.

One time I was interviewing Helen with my video camera, for posterity. We were talking about misadventures and the embolism that almost killed her. I got up to go grab some more beer. Actually it was malt liquor that day. Steel Reserve, give it a try, it’s awful. So I’m in the kitchen, come back out and we resume the idle chat. I’m watching the tape later and I hit the spot where Helen was alone and I’m speeding through it but she starts talking to the camera. I rewind to check this out. Her face gets serious and her neck gets frighteningly long as she stretches her head towards the camera. Then with one of the truest threats I have ever heard, she says, “And you will never take my John away from me, Christina Aguilera!”

Huh? I’m not sure where that came from. There was never any talk about Ms. Aguilera or any kind of clue as to why this statement was necessary. For some reason in Helen’s head, a video camera was somehow a link to the pop star and just in case Christina were out there watching this somehow, Helen wanted to make it very clear that I was not going to be hers. My three hundred pound crack whore, keeping me safe from the floozies of the world.

Though I would have liked to have seen that fight. Hair extensions would have flown that day, I tell you.

Specific Thoughts About Nothing

Can’t sleep, feeling random. I think it was the sugar that did it. I haven’t had processed sugar in a couple of weeks and tonight I loaded up on Snickers and Twix. Why? Because I could; So shove that existentialist point of view up your snout.

When you’re a straight guy and you get to spend time talking to a woman. That’s a good thing, makes you feel a little better about yourself.

When you are used to spending weekends cutting shows together and for the first time in several weeks you have nothing to cut. It’s an odd feeling; like something is missing and you can’t quite place your finger on it.

When you throw a grenade into a friend’s car because you have to kill him for fear that he’s going to rat you out to Forest Whitaker; you know you’ve been watching a lot of The Shield.

When you think about someone who you haven’t been in contact with for over ten years, but the thought of them makes you smile; you know they were a special person to you.

When you wonder why there are more questions to life then answers, you know you’re truly growing.

When you find yourself jerking off more than three times a day, you need to find a better hobby.

When you’re a kid on the playground and the other kids wont play with you, wait until high school and slit their tires.

When your boss is a true asshole and you want out of the job, don’t forget to empty the register on your way out the door.

When you’re bored and get tired of surfing the net, go re-watch Film Geek Primer.

When your last “when” is about plugging your own podcast, it’s time to hang it up and try to go to sleep again.

Right after I go slit the tires of this douche bag across the street.

Busy, Busy, Busy…And Not Making A Dime

That’s how it goes in the world today, I guess. Anything you want to do, you do for free. Anything you have to do, there’s a possible paycheck involved.

It’s been an odd past few days. Someone has decided to be me and charge their medical bills to my checking account. Since someone is impersonating me, it makes me wonder what I am stricken with. Maybe I have meta-polio or meta-herpes.

Life is a lot easier when you can add meta to the front of it. Think of the worst thing possible and then add meta to it. Meta-cancer, meta-AIDS, meta-overdue bills, meta-kick to the crotch. No big deal, right? It’s all “play it as it lays” in the metaverse.

So my other me is out there right now buying artificial limbs or prescription drugs with my cash, real cash not meta-cash, and I get to revel in the fact that my medical problems are just meta. This makes me feel a little better about this violation of my bank account. It’ll all get fixed and I’ll get my money back. My doppelganger will be happy with his or her new quad-cane and the only people who end up screwed is the medical company who didn’t check for id. I guess it could be tough to ask for a guy’s wallet when he has no arms and you’re holding his prosthetics in a bag waiting for his card to be approved.

All right, back to life. Screw that, I’m going back to my meta-life. Tonight I’m going to get meta-laid after making some major meta-cash and hit Nico Nico for some awesome meta-sushi.

Actually sushi sounds good…Oh, right no real money.

Old Projects

Here are a couple of pieces I did for The Megan Mullally Show web site that were never put up for various reasons.






This one was put up because it was very show-centric.




Hope you enjoyed them.

Thanks Faceless Readers

I know there are people out there who I know personally that read this. I also know that there are people I don’t know who read this. It’s what happens when you toss stuff out into the bolgosphere (I have no idea how it’s spelled. I’m just using my own twisted logic).

But over the past few days, my podcast (Film Geek Primer) has been getting traffic from the link (in the sidebar) and I just want to say thanks to anybody who checks it out. We’re not making a dime off this thing (yet) and it’s really more a labor of love. We really enjoy doing it and hope people really enjoy watching it. It’s not perfect, but with a budget of zero dollars, it’s not total crap either.

I’m always looking to improve and I appreciate creative criticism. When you’re deeply involved you miss certain things. I know Schu isn’t always that clear because he’s over the phone and I’m working on that, you’ll see how much more improved it is in the next couple of episodes.

They’ll only get better as we get more creative and start pushing the limits of what we think we can do. That’s what life is all about. Push those limits, baby!

So drop me an email either from here or the website and let me know what you think. Even a scathing review is more helpful than silence.

So thank you I really am grateful that people are checking it out. And to our Canadian, Chinese and Malaysian viewers…what’s the weather like over there?

Just an Update

I’ve been lazy and not keeping up to date with this blog. My apologies to anyone who is in desperate need of reading material.

I’ve been working nonstop on the new podcast because it’s so much damn fun. We’ve got two episodes up, two in the can and scripts for two more that are going to be shot this weekend.

All of us who are working on it are having a blast and it’s become quite the creative community that we’re forming to try to make a better show each week.

As for me, life moves on. I’m hoping that a job will come along soon, but my Unemployment just kicked in so I’ll have money for the next few months, which takes a lot of weight off.

Nikki and I have stopped seeing each other because she has gotten to the point where she wants a relationship and it’s something that I just can’t handle at this point in time. We’ll probably go back to being friends in the near future, but right now our emotions are just a little too sensitive to talk to each other. It’s too bad really. I think she’s a great person and I enjoy spending time with her. The emotions just aren’t there though and I’d rather not be in a relationship with her than be in a lie. It’s no good for either of us and I want her to find someone that could reciprocate. Oh, well.

So, what’s next for me? Well, I’m just doing the show, keeping my skills sharp, smoking again (awful), and moving forward.

That’s really all there is at this time. Sorry I couldn’t supply any juicier information, but it’s really just me and the show right now.

John: Year One

That’s right folks, one year ago today I was on the road in my U-Haul blazing my trail down to Los Angeles. It’s been an interesting ride since then and a very educational one as well. I’ve learned a little bit about myself and a little bit about the industry in which I wish to serve. There have been some bumps along the way and there have been some major highs as well.

So how should I celebrate this occasion? Hmm, what could I do to make it special. Not just for me, but you my fellow readers as well?


I’ll tell you what. Let’s make today a turning point. A new endeavor that we can go on together. That sounds like it could be fun, no?

Well folks, today I am happy to announce the launching of a new podcast. It has been put together by: Myself, Gabe, Aaron and Schu. We’ve spanned two states to get this sucker together and today on the anniversary of my landing in Los Angeles we launch.

This is a video podcast called Film Geek Primer and it’s just that, a show that teaches you how to be a film geek.

So,

CHECK OUT THE SHOW!

We’ve got four episodes in the can, are shooting new ones on a weekly basis, and will be putting up a new one each week. We have a place on MySpace, so add us to your friends list. We need all the help we can get.

We’ll also be available through itunes and other pod feeds, so keep your eyes open.

The object is to create a community so a forum and a wiki are being set up to create an environment that everyone can play around with and help us build a great film geek database.

We’ll also be taking polls on what shows we should make and you will be able to vote in our upcoming “Geek Fights”. Fun stuff. So if you like movies and enjoy a bunch of guys making fools of their own existence, be sure to book mark the site and watch it weekly or subscribe through other sources.

One year and I’ve accomplished something. Not bad. Lets see what will happen over the next 12 months and see if something fun comes out of it, or will I fall into that spiral of shame and cast my soul into the vortex.

(That’s my cliffhanger!)

Cheers y’all and here’s to another year of growth and… uh, growth.

Lost In Translation

So about a month ago I responded to this add on Craig’s List. A woman was looking for someone to run lines with. I responded for the hell of it and got a phone call about an hour later. Her Name is Eriko and we chatted for a bit. She’s from Japan and her English is decent, but she needs time to process what you’re saying so it is best to speak slow…not an easy job for someone with a machine gun mouth. I’m not as bad as a Scorsese or the guy from the Micro Machine adds, but I’m pretty rapid fire.

So we finish our conversation and she asks me to call her back on Sunday, I call back, get nothing but a busy signal for the few times I try and give up. Move on.

This afternoon I get a phone call from her to ask if I could meet for coffee and see if I, "can be of use to her". So I go to Starbucks to meet her and she’s pretty damned stunning. We are talking for a few minutes and I can see that there is a bit of a communications problem. My assignment: Help her work through a couple of questions she has to Ask Halle Berry for some interview an the local Japanese station. She has to get to another meeting, but wants to meet later this evening to go over them.

She callsa little while later to say her meeting is running late and will call me back. I take this as the Japanese polite thing where they can’t tell you “Thanks, but no thanks”. Whatever, I’ve got movies to watch.

Around 9:30 I get a call from her and she asks for some help on a question she needs to ask Ms. Berry. So I am trying to explain to her that the question she is asking does not sound polite and needs some rephrasing, but she keeps telling me that I did not understand what she wanted.

Here’s the question she wrote:

“I read when you moved to Los Angeles you lived in a shelter, what were you thinking?”

Now I understood what she was trying to ask. She wanted to know what was going on in Halle’s head as she was experiencing the situation of living in a shelter. Not, “You idiot, why would you stay in a shelter?” But my attempts to explain this just frustrated her. She kept saying, “I’m from Japan.” Yeah, honey, got it, no road map needed. I worked on talking slow and carefully explained that the way she had phrased it was rude. Rudeness is something the Japanese understand. They cut off fingers and jump off rooftops because of the whole respect thing, so rude should be right up her ally.

So finally she says that she would really like to work with me and when a script comes in, she’ll give me a call so I can help her learn her lines and “explain” what is going on. This situation though needs someone who will simply phrase the question and that’ll be it. No problem. I got a free coffee out of it and hung out with a hot Japanese girl for a bit. I wasn’t doing anything important and there were worse things I could have done with my time.

On a whim I decide to look her up on line and see what results I get. Come to find out this chic was a fucking superstar in Japan who has come to America to make it big. She was the Britney Spears of Japan and was in a ton of television and even had a cartoon about her.

So now three things run through my brain. First, I bet almost every teenage guy in Japan would have castrated himself to sit where I sat today. Second. I’m not sure anymore if her issue was a language barrier or much like Ms. Spears, the poor thing just ain’t that bright. The third and one I find most noggin numbing, maybe she really did want to know what the hell was Halle thinking about staying in a shelter. There are a ton of decent hotels around after all.

The English-speaking world may never know.

Friggin’ Frustratin’

So the new project that is being worked on is a video blog. It’s fun stuff and I think adds something new to the program and not just more redundant info. We have two episodes shot and completed and begin working on the next three today. It’s a lot of fun and very exciting.

Here’s the frustration, the intro. See, I usually put an intro together first just to get my blood pumping and help sell the idea to the people I want involved in it. I usually use a piece of music by a band that fits the atmosphere of what the show is going to be like. So I put it all together and it does it’s job. Everyone gets excited and we start putting the show together.

Now the problem was trying to get permission to use the song. Since we’re going to make money off of this sucker, we need permission to use the song. So I decide to be the pro and start emailing around to find out how we get permission. I know that they are going to want money, but I cross fingers and pray that I can make them understand we are doing this for zero dollars and could we swing some sort of deal.

The answer is a “No” and if we get some money in the future for licensing, give them a buzz. Yeah, sure we will, no problem.

I have spent the past few days hmming and hawing over what to do. I’ve gone to all these sites where you can buy a piece of music for 20 bucks but they are pretty generic and well… pretty much suck. Plus I’m so attached to the original intro that it’s hard for me to think outside of it and look for something new. Our original really pinpointed who was involved with the show and our basic role. So I’m trying to let go and be open to find a piece of music that is usable, but so far no go.

Hence the friggin’ frustration. I want to launch on April 7th in honor of my one-year anniversary of being in Los Angeles. Hopefully an answer will be discovered and we can launch on time.

Grrrrrrr.

Catch Up

It’s been a while and I’ve been just movin’ along. Applying for jobs, working on new projects, just keepin’ on bein’ John. For better or worse, that’s the situation.

Here’s an image from the new project. The pilot should be done soon and we’ll be working on the first couple of episodes this week. I’d like to do two a week, but I’m starting to get the feeling that may prove to be an issue. So I’ll try to make it at last one a week. I want to keep it moving and keep it current. The more you’ve got out there the more interest you can keep. That’s my theory at least.

So here ya go and I’ll be letting you know more soon.