Friday, June 26, 2009

When the little hand catches the big hand

It's after midnight. Sirens fall away beyond my window. I'm a day away from turning 23.

This is where I'm at in my life. Some moments of excitement but...

Not the life I imagined.

The Problem with Dating Older Woman...

On the surface, age is not an issue when dating someone. You are as young (or old) as you feel. But there are some practical concerns; Like the internal clock for marriage and children.

I'm dating Airport Girl right now and in two days I turn 23 and we'll be separated by six years. She's on the cusp of wanting a family and setting down. She's planning on buying a house in the next several months. She's a real person.

I'm still pretending. I rent and don't own my furniture.

But I care deeply for her and the last time I saw her I made it clear, "I want to go steady. I want our relationship to be official and exclusive."

To say there was hesitation would be to understate. She wanted a couple days to think about it. I understand her concerns. I can predict what she'll tell me upon making her decision.

"I really like you but you're just so young. Can't we keep things the way they are?"

Well, fuck no we can't. And here's the reason. I would be waiting for her to cheat. I would become more intimate with her, more attached and she would be looking for a replacement.

What is the lines of communication is this situation? Does she tell me when she see's a cute guy? Or how about when he comes over to talk to her? Does she tell me when she gives out her phone number or when she picks up the phone after he calls. Does she tell me about a first date, a hug, a kiss? Does she tell me when she fucks him?

The truth is this: They are all the same. Each act is intent to cheat/replace/marry.

That's not a relationship. It's purgatory. I would become jealous and possessive and maybe try to fuck other girls, causing self loathing and equally resent her for the position I'm in.

So, if she gives the answer I think she will, what will then be my answer?

I hope she decides to give us a try. She won't regret it.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Holy Mary Mother of Christ

I was driving back to Paso Robles for Mother's Day on Saturday night, only an hour from surprising my mom who had no idea I was coming, when my phone started beeping. Text messages galore (two actually).

I glanced down at the phone and Brandy Davis, an aspiring Casting Director was requesting my services for that Monday. She was a casting assistant for a film that was doing a Director session and their reader dropped out at the last minute.

Of course I said yes.

I memorized my lines. Which readers don't do. I affected some emotion. And made a good impression.

Chad Michael Murray (One Tree Hill, House of Wax) was terrible, still stuck in teen soap opera mode, and made an ass of himself with what can only be described "false-modesty douchiness."

He was reading the part of Joseph for the movie MARY MOTHER OF CHRIST and somehow he made the reading sexual.

On the opposite end of the spectrum Gregory Smith (Everwood, Nearing Grace) nailed the audition. He was affable and kind. He took direction extremely well, interrupting a crazy director's notes and finding his own truth. Smith should get the part, and I told them so.

Afterward Brandy and I talked. She told me Carla (casting director) liked me. We talked a little about my career and she said she knew a former agent at ICM who would be a good fit. And now I just have to make sure it happens.

*Side Note: Almost two years ago when I was working at Sidney Kimmel Entertainment I read the script MARY MOTHER OF CHRIST and turned it down. I dug up my old coverage when I found out about the audition. Base case; I found the script boring. Now it's a movie starring Al Pacino, Peter O' Toole, and Jessica Lange. Go figure.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The First Script I Ever Read

Maybe it's a sign. If we're destined to write what we read I'll be a happy man.

May I...

I forgot to do something the first of this year. The clock struck midnight. The calendar turned over to 2009 and I didn't know where I wanted to be in 2010. No resolutions were made.

There was a certain focus during the first two months of this year. I wrote alot. I went to Sundance. I set up lunches and got in touch with people that I hadn't spoken to. I went to plays and got a commercial agent.

But here I am in May and my motivation has flattened out. I need to refocus and rededicate.


1) Get a new job, even part time.
2) Finish the latest draft of Paso.
3) Complete 30 pages of novel.
4) Finish first act of Grandpa's script.
5) Take new headshots for agent

Check in with me at the end of the month and see how I did. These are realistic goals. It will take hard work. But it's my future, and it's time to stop fucking around.

Monday, May 4, 2009

On Writing by Stephen King

Once I start on a project, I don't stop and I don't slow down unless I absolutely have to. If I don't write everyday the characters begin to stale off in my mind-- they begin to seem like characters instead of real people.

If you want to be a writer, you must do two thing above all others: read a lot and write a a lot.

I believe the first draft of a book should take no more than three months.

I like to get ten pages a day, which amounts to 2,000 words. That's 180,000 words over a three month span.

Put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down to write, remind yourself why it isn't in the middle of the room. Life isn't a support system for art. It's the other way around.

Get in the Basket

It was boys night out and my car was filled with testosterone. Driving down the hill, away from my house leads us right past the famed Chateau Marmont and on this particular night, out in front of famed hotel is none other than Famke Janssen and she's looking as gorgeous as ever.

Our glee was suspended only for a moment when we noticed who she was with. Some Eastside "artist" with George Michael facial hair and skinny jeans who, at 10:30 at night, was riding a bicycle with a basket, and making Famke run next to him.

It was too much for us to comprehend and so Brett Battenberg (Facebook him and give him shit) rolled down the window and started yelling, in a not-so-nice voice:

"Get in the basket! Get in the basket! Get in the basket!"