That is NOT the real Benjamin Franklin. I am 99% sure. (listening to: "Walking in Memphis" by Marc Cohen)
A little taste of one of my new obsessions for you all. For all the hype that The Office gets, it's underrated. Trust me. It's so brilliantly and subtly acted and written, sometimes you forget you're watching a sitcom. Go get it. /rant.
So, my little blogites, what shall we talk about today? It's been so long...
I leave for Orlando in a few days. The yearly business trip isn't to Vegas this year, which is somewhat disappointing. However, there's Disney fun to be had, and if Spike's fervor for all things Mickey is any indication, I should be in for some good times. If anyone has any suggestions for things to do while I'm there, I'm all big-black-mouse-ears.
I'm not involved in a show right now. It's so strange to be without work. This is the first time in over a year that I haven't had anything to do besides CSz, and it's unsettling. I haven't been to any auditions, granted. There hasn't been anything out there auditioning right now that interested me. Maybe that's wrong? As an actor, should I be looking for work even if I'm not into it? Just for the sake of working? Somehow that seems wrong to me, but if it means the difference between working and not working... maybe that's the way to go?
Life is very interesting right now. I feel like I'm on the verge of something very big, but it's clouded over and I can't see it. It may be just a result of me feeling like I'm in the doldrums right now even though things are going as well as I could expect them to, but I don't know... Eli's coming.
END TRANSMISSION...
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Best. Birthday. Evar.
OMGWTFBBQ!!11!!1!!!eleventyone! (listening to: soft explosions in the distance)
This now adorns my new sunroom in my new place. And I can officially die a happy man.
Apparently Natalie has spent the last month wrangling all of my friends into lying to me about what is happening for my birthday. Subtle plans were laid all throughout the last couple weeks, and they all came to fruition last night. Somehow, everyone ended up at my new place last night, and fun was being had, though a few people looked like they were just there because they had nothing else to do. Natalie called me up and told me that she needed to talk to me outside. So, I went outside, and there she was, standing next to the greatest arcade game ever made by man. I freaked out for a bit, and all my friends came running out of my place to share in the joy. Ten minutes later, we had my new girl plugged in, and lasers flying.
The game is great, and in really nice shape, considering it's nearly as old as I am. But the best part was just how Frank Capra the whole moment was. Nearly all of my friends had pitched in to help buy this thing for me, and I had never felt so well-liked before. It was a great feeling.
Thank you so much to everyone who made this possible, I feel truly blessed. God bless you all.
END TRANSMISSION...
This now adorns my new sunroom in my new place. And I can officially die a happy man.
Apparently Natalie has spent the last month wrangling all of my friends into lying to me about what is happening for my birthday. Subtle plans were laid all throughout the last couple weeks, and they all came to fruition last night. Somehow, everyone ended up at my new place last night, and fun was being had, though a few people looked like they were just there because they had nothing else to do. Natalie called me up and told me that she needed to talk to me outside. So, I went outside, and there she was, standing next to the greatest arcade game ever made by man. I freaked out for a bit, and all my friends came running out of my place to share in the joy. Ten minutes later, we had my new girl plugged in, and lasers flying.
The game is great, and in really nice shape, considering it's nearly as old as I am. But the best part was just how Frank Capra the whole moment was. Nearly all of my friends had pitched in to help buy this thing for me, and I had never felt so well-liked before. It was a great feeling.
Thank you so much to everyone who made this possible, I feel truly blessed. God bless you all.
END TRANSMISSION...
Friday, August 03, 2007
Denouement
As our story comes to a close... (listening to: creepy silence)
--DAY 3--
Again, we are woken up by small giggles at a time when not even the elderly should be up. This time, Natalie promises me that she won't be upset if I don't come up right away, and thanks me for plugging in her phone. I earnestly try to get back to sleep, but it's no use. I'm up.
Today's plan is to prepare for the arrival of just the inner circle of family for late lunch/dinner. Fran is scurrying about trying to make sure Harris and Jackie are taken care of, and Natalie really wants to go to Kent to see where she went to school. I'm game, so we get into the car.
It's a pleasant drive to Kent, and we pass it in quiet reverie (read: hungover headaches), punctuated by pleasant conversation (read: Natalie saying something, me saying "what?" and her deciding it's not worth repeating). When we arrive, I'm ferried around the campus, shown the pretty buildings and told the anecdotes- All standard fare when showing someone around your old campus. But this is Kent we're talking about, so everything's a little bit different. We went to the memorial, saw the sectioned off places where the students fell, and when it's warm and you're hungover, everything seems a little graver. Hearing Natalie tell the story Neil Young put to music just seemed.. I don't know. It hit me harder than I thought it would.
From Kent, we go to a local drive-in type restaurant for a sandwich called a "Salad Boy." From what I understand, it's a vegetarian's dreamboat. Personally, I could barely stomach the sight of it. It had pickles. 'Nuff said. I enjoyed my cheeseburger and a local version of Quepapas, washing it all down with a delicious peanut butter milkshake. No, Fran, I did NOT spill any in your wonderful automobile... maybe.
Now beings the portion of our tale wherein our heroes drive aimlessly along the cliffs and hills of Eastern Ohio. Natalie is really a fantastic tour guide, telling stories about each road and taking me to a place where giant birds play... or rather, used to.. before something terrible happened that no one seems to want to talk about. About an hour later, we end up at Mom's house, and she shows me pictures of young Natalie, and we watch golf, and nearly fall asleep right then and there. No time for sleeping!
One quick stop before we return to Brain and Fran's house at a pet store so Natalie can make her little happy growling noise at the puppies and kitties, and then I need to redeem my weekend with a quick purchase at Home Depot. Replacement plant holders. I mend what I reap, folks.
Finally returning back to the house, Brain has concocted roast beast which the very smell of sets angels singing on clouds far away, and I'm suddenly much less tired. We sit down to eat, and Dad is eyeing me with a somewhat auspicious eye. I aim for conversation with the man, and he's amiable and open. So far, so good.
The rest of the evening passes languidly, mostly conversation and wine sipping until the very end of the evening when Natalie, Fran, Guinevere, Brain and I all have a talk about the Summers women. Seems that they are a lively bunch, fraught with complications and neuroses. I take careful notes, realizing that not only will there be a test later, but I'm actually living it every day. This is good information for me to have, I think. The girls seem to be unerringly self-aware of their particular neediness, and there is no excuses or blame placed. It is what it is, and to be honest.. the upside far outweighs the bad.
Now it is bedtime, and this time I know that I'm getting up in 5 hours. Somehow, as I turn out the lights, I know that it was all worthwhile.
END TRANSMISSION...
--DAY 3--
Again, we are woken up by small giggles at a time when not even the elderly should be up. This time, Natalie promises me that she won't be upset if I don't come up right away, and thanks me for plugging in her phone. I earnestly try to get back to sleep, but it's no use. I'm up.
Today's plan is to prepare for the arrival of just the inner circle of family for late lunch/dinner. Fran is scurrying about trying to make sure Harris and Jackie are taken care of, and Natalie really wants to go to Kent to see where she went to school. I'm game, so we get into the car.
It's a pleasant drive to Kent, and we pass it in quiet reverie (read: hungover headaches), punctuated by pleasant conversation (read: Natalie saying something, me saying "what?" and her deciding it's not worth repeating). When we arrive, I'm ferried around the campus, shown the pretty buildings and told the anecdotes- All standard fare when showing someone around your old campus. But this is Kent we're talking about, so everything's a little bit different. We went to the memorial, saw the sectioned off places where the students fell, and when it's warm and you're hungover, everything seems a little graver. Hearing Natalie tell the story Neil Young put to music just seemed.. I don't know. It hit me harder than I thought it would.
From Kent, we go to a local drive-in type restaurant for a sandwich called a "Salad Boy." From what I understand, it's a vegetarian's dreamboat. Personally, I could barely stomach the sight of it. It had pickles. 'Nuff said. I enjoyed my cheeseburger and a local version of Quepapas, washing it all down with a delicious peanut butter milkshake. No, Fran, I did NOT spill any in your wonderful automobile... maybe.
Now beings the portion of our tale wherein our heroes drive aimlessly along the cliffs and hills of Eastern Ohio. Natalie is really a fantastic tour guide, telling stories about each road and taking me to a place where giant birds play... or rather, used to.. before something terrible happened that no one seems to want to talk about. About an hour later, we end up at Mom's house, and she shows me pictures of young Natalie, and we watch golf, and nearly fall asleep right then and there. No time for sleeping!
One quick stop before we return to Brain and Fran's house at a pet store so Natalie can make her little happy growling noise at the puppies and kitties, and then I need to redeem my weekend with a quick purchase at Home Depot. Replacement plant holders. I mend what I reap, folks.
Finally returning back to the house, Brain has concocted roast beast which the very smell of sets angels singing on clouds far away, and I'm suddenly much less tired. We sit down to eat, and Dad is eyeing me with a somewhat auspicious eye. I aim for conversation with the man, and he's amiable and open. So far, so good.
The rest of the evening passes languidly, mostly conversation and wine sipping until the very end of the evening when Natalie, Fran, Guinevere, Brain and I all have a talk about the Summers women. Seems that they are a lively bunch, fraught with complications and neuroses. I take careful notes, realizing that not only will there be a test later, but I'm actually living it every day. This is good information for me to have, I think. The girls seem to be unerringly self-aware of their particular neediness, and there is no excuses or blame placed. It is what it is, and to be honest.. the upside far outweighs the bad.
Now it is bedtime, and this time I know that I'm getting up in 5 hours. Somehow, as I turn out the lights, I know that it was all worthwhile.
END TRANSMISSION...
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Intermission
I know you are all waiting with bated breath for Day 3, but I have a breaking news flash. (listening to: Massive Happiness in my Brain)
Madjai will be playing Barry Champlain in the Chameleon Theatre Circle production of Talk Radio!!
This is a GREAT show that was written by Eric Bogosian in the early 80's, and just closed on Broadway. Liev Schreiber earned a Tony nomination for his role as Barry, so naturally, he and I are now best-of-friends.
If you can make it, please, please, PLEASE come see this show. I promise you it will be awesome.
Oh, and PS- Day 3 is coming.
END TRANSMISSION...
Madjai will be playing Barry Champlain in the Chameleon Theatre Circle production of Talk Radio!!
This is a GREAT show that was written by Eric Bogosian in the early 80's, and just closed on Broadway. Liev Schreiber earned a Tony nomination for his role as Barry, so naturally, he and I are now best-of-friends.
If you can make it, please, please, PLEASE come see this show. I promise you it will be awesome.
Oh, and PS- Day 3 is coming.
END TRANSMISSION...
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Richfield, Part Deux
Today is ACTUALLY the day I meet Francesca. (listening to: "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot)
--DAY 2--
We're woken up by the sound of high pitched laughter. I'm roused from a pretty kick-ass Sports Night dream in which I'm producing my first show, and things are getting pretty intense. But, that's neither here nor there. Natalie goes upstairs to play with the kids and tells me I can sleep if I want to. I look at the clock- 8:15am. sigh
I clean up a bit so as not to scare the little ones, and I swear I hear a ticking noise as I look at Natalie holding little Jackie in her arms. I'm introduced (yes, for the first time) to Francesca and Harris. We all lounge around for a while watching silent television in which two men in primary-colored shirts bounce around an animated house in an attempt to teach very young children colors, or weather, or some other socially useful concept. Coffee is blissfully made, and as I sip, the very curious Harris comes up to me and asks me a few questions, giggles at my answers and then runs away, only to repeat the process a few minutes later. I'm impressed at his ability to pronounce my name correctly, and I find that all three syllables sound adorable when you lisp on the last one.
Brain takes off to go and get breakfast for us, and while he's gone, Natalie plays with the kids while Fran and I talk about general getting-to-know-you stuff.
Greasy sausage gravy over eggs arrives, and I dig into the meal like it's my job. Jackie gets to eat from her high-chair next to me, and does her best to actually put food in her mouth, a task which is ultimately negligibly successful. Fran is very patient with her, though, and I swear that ticking sound gets louder as I look over at Natalie. Harris punctuates the meal by throwing a piece of sausage at my feet and then demanding orange juice (hopefully unrelated occurances), and after breakfast there's more exaggerated television, and after a while, it's nap time for the kids. At this point, it's made very clear to me that waking the children is very bad. Like Stealing Jobu's rum kind of bad. I nod and file that information for later.
Natalie and Fran dash off to run some errands, leaving Brain and I to set up for the day's festivities: Harris' big 0-3 party. Brain and Fran have bought Harris an inflatable slide for his third birthday, and it comes with its own fan to keep it inflated. This thing is a monster:
[[Picture of the inflatable giant toy]]
Brain and I give it a test run, and we also set up some Cornholing and horseshoes. Things are going smashingly, and I should have taken that as a sign that something bad was about to happen.
The women return with groceries and ice, and Brain goes off to take a shower. The girls need help carrying the 50 lbs of ice they bought down to the coolers, so I go outside. As I turn to close the front door, the doors don't line up right. I try pulling the door shut a little more forcefully with no luck. I give it one last little tug, and the door slams shut with a force never before seen by mankind. It makes a horrible, bassy booming noise and all three of us freeze as I realize what I've done. As I wait for the bat to come flying out of the batter's hands and onto my head, Fran's eyes slowly slide to the baby monitor in her hand.
Silence...
Silence...
Nope. No such luck, Madjai. The baby wails, and my heart sinks into my stomach. I've woken the baby. Pandora's box is opened, and it's my fault. I heft the two heavier bags of ice as penance for my crimes, and Atlas-like, haul them downstairs. Fran, God bless her, comes down to help me, assuring me that it's ok, and that it's not my fault, and that she thinks it's really funny. I begin to feel a bit better, but had I known then that waking the kids was the most benign of offenses I would have commit this day, I would certainly have put myself on ice.
Things are going alright until about 2:30 when Guinevere arrives, Natalie's other sister. It's almost time for the party, and people are arriving and hanging out on the deck. On this deck, they have two ornate plant hangers, which Brain has tied balloons to. I'm standing next to one of them, and as I turn to walk away, my hip hits it, and it snaps off from the deck. I'm standing there holding this hanger with the balloons still floating from it, and people start laughing. Now, I'm told that either Fran or Guin has done this before, and someone points at where the third hanger used to be. Sure enough, there's the base of the hanger still screwed to the deck. Somehow, that fails to make me feel any better.
The rest of the afternoon is lazy, most filled with me being not terrible at cornholing or horseshoeing, getting to know everyone and such regular party activites. I even spend one game of Horseshoes standing next to Dad, who is warming up to me... which is very relieving. I make my way back up the deck to chat with Mom and some of Natalie's cousins, and I'm not up there for five minutes when I proceed to break the OTHER HANGER. I'm not kidding. This could not have been written any worse. In my extreme shame, I don't even bother explaining. I just literally run inside, and close the door to the guest room. It takes about 10 minutes for Natalie to come and find me, and even she can't help from laughing. She cajoles me into rejoining the party, but I'm not ready to go back out there yet. We decide to play a quick game of darts to re-establish my confidence. Naturally, I jump out to an early and decisive lead, and with two quick LUCKY darts, Natalie takes me down. Great. Awesome. Fantastic. Super.
Slowly, the day manages to get less surreal. Natalie catches a delicious bluegill, but had already sent me inside to get her wine, so I missed it. More games, more drinking, and more fun occur. Sooner or later, we're sitting around playing Balderdash, and the drunker we get, the more fun it is. Some highlights from this game:
Finally, only the Die-Hards are left, and we decide to play poker. Yes, please. The game drags on for a while, and in an attempt to get it done with and go to bed (It's 3am)... Folks, you heard it here first: I cheat. I cheat so hard. I'm talking looking through the deck to find the card I want kind of cheating. I feel less bad about it, because no one is paying enough attention to catch me.
Brain gets the mega-sweet idea to start doing shots. He pours a shot, and you have to toast with it. The toasts go around, and we all shoot this.. look.. I'm trying to find the words to describe this liquid. Here's what I got:
It's something like that.
Needless to say, the night takes a downward turn after this, and it's about an hour later that Natalie has passed out fully clothed, and I plug in her cell phone and turn in myself. It's 4AM, and I don't know it, but I'm getting up in four hours...
--DAY 2--
We're woken up by the sound of high pitched laughter. I'm roused from a pretty kick-ass Sports Night dream in which I'm producing my first show, and things are getting pretty intense. But, that's neither here nor there. Natalie goes upstairs to play with the kids and tells me I can sleep if I want to. I look at the clock- 8:15am. sigh
I clean up a bit so as not to scare the little ones, and I swear I hear a ticking noise as I look at Natalie holding little Jackie in her arms. I'm introduced (yes, for the first time) to Francesca and Harris. We all lounge around for a while watching silent television in which two men in primary-colored shirts bounce around an animated house in an attempt to teach very young children colors, or weather, or some other socially useful concept. Coffee is blissfully made, and as I sip, the very curious Harris comes up to me and asks me a few questions, giggles at my answers and then runs away, only to repeat the process a few minutes later. I'm impressed at his ability to pronounce my name correctly, and I find that all three syllables sound adorable when you lisp on the last one.
Brain takes off to go and get breakfast for us, and while he's gone, Natalie plays with the kids while Fran and I talk about general getting-to-know-you stuff.
Greasy sausage gravy over eggs arrives, and I dig into the meal like it's my job. Jackie gets to eat from her high-chair next to me, and does her best to actually put food in her mouth, a task which is ultimately negligibly successful. Fran is very patient with her, though, and I swear that ticking sound gets louder as I look over at Natalie. Harris punctuates the meal by throwing a piece of sausage at my feet and then demanding orange juice (hopefully unrelated occurances), and after breakfast there's more exaggerated television, and after a while, it's nap time for the kids. At this point, it's made very clear to me that waking the children is very bad. Like Stealing Jobu's rum kind of bad. I nod and file that information for later.
Natalie and Fran dash off to run some errands, leaving Brain and I to set up for the day's festivities: Harris' big 0-3 party. Brain and Fran have bought Harris an inflatable slide for his third birthday, and it comes with its own fan to keep it inflated. This thing is a monster:
[[Picture of the inflatable giant toy]]
Brain and I give it a test run, and we also set up some Cornholing and horseshoes. Things are going smashingly, and I should have taken that as a sign that something bad was about to happen.
The women return with groceries and ice, and Brain goes off to take a shower. The girls need help carrying the 50 lbs of ice they bought down to the coolers, so I go outside. As I turn to close the front door, the doors don't line up right. I try pulling the door shut a little more forcefully with no luck. I give it one last little tug, and the door slams shut with a force never before seen by mankind. It makes a horrible, bassy booming noise and all three of us freeze as I realize what I've done. As I wait for the bat to come flying out of the batter's hands and onto my head, Fran's eyes slowly slide to the baby monitor in her hand.
Silence...
Silence...
Nope. No such luck, Madjai. The baby wails, and my heart sinks into my stomach. I've woken the baby. Pandora's box is opened, and it's my fault. I heft the two heavier bags of ice as penance for my crimes, and Atlas-like, haul them downstairs. Fran, God bless her, comes down to help me, assuring me that it's ok, and that it's not my fault, and that she thinks it's really funny. I begin to feel a bit better, but had I known then that waking the kids was the most benign of offenses I would have commit this day, I would certainly have put myself on ice.
Things are going alright until about 2:30 when Guinevere arrives, Natalie's other sister. It's almost time for the party, and people are arriving and hanging out on the deck. On this deck, they have two ornate plant hangers, which Brain has tied balloons to. I'm standing next to one of them, and as I turn to walk away, my hip hits it, and it snaps off from the deck. I'm standing there holding this hanger with the balloons still floating from it, and people start laughing. Now, I'm told that either Fran or Guin has done this before, and someone points at where the third hanger used to be. Sure enough, there's the base of the hanger still screwed to the deck. Somehow, that fails to make me feel any better.
The rest of the afternoon is lazy, most filled with me being not terrible at cornholing or horseshoeing, getting to know everyone and such regular party activites. I even spend one game of Horseshoes standing next to Dad, who is warming up to me... which is very relieving. I make my way back up the deck to chat with Mom and some of Natalie's cousins, and I'm not up there for five minutes when I proceed to break the OTHER HANGER. I'm not kidding. This could not have been written any worse. In my extreme shame, I don't even bother explaining. I just literally run inside, and close the door to the guest room. It takes about 10 minutes for Natalie to come and find me, and even she can't help from laughing. She cajoles me into rejoining the party, but I'm not ready to go back out there yet. We decide to play a quick game of darts to re-establish my confidence. Naturally, I jump out to an early and decisive lead, and with two quick LUCKY darts, Natalie takes me down. Great. Awesome. Fantastic. Super.
Slowly, the day manages to get less surreal. Natalie catches a delicious bluegill, but had already sent me inside to get her wine, so I missed it. More games, more drinking, and more fun occur. Sooner or later, we're sitting around playing Balderdash, and the drunker we get, the more fun it is. Some highlights from this game:
- Tzizit - What your wife does to your tie.
- What can't two people do in South Carolina at the same time? Ride a tandem bike
- Misspelling the name of the person you're trying to lie about isn't very convincing.
- Natalie should NEVER, EVER be trusted to read everyone's sheets with the same amount of composure.
Finally, only the Die-Hards are left, and we decide to play poker. Yes, please. The game drags on for a while, and in an attempt to get it done with and go to bed (It's 3am)... Folks, you heard it here first: I cheat. I cheat so hard. I'm talking looking through the deck to find the card I want kind of cheating. I feel less bad about it, because no one is paying enough attention to catch me.
Brain gets the mega-sweet idea to start doing shots. He pours a shot, and you have to toast with it. The toasts go around, and we all shoot this.. look.. I'm trying to find the words to describe this liquid. Here's what I got:
Imagine taking the blood of a demon and mixing it with the sweat of a maggot, fermenting it in barrels of wormwood while those barrels are smoked in the breath of the whore of Babylon. Then, once this diabolical concoction is prepared, pour it into a dirty sink pipe and serve over razor blades.
It's something like that.
Needless to say, the night takes a downward turn after this, and it's about an hour later that Natalie has passed out fully clothed, and I plug in her cell phone and turn in myself. It's 4AM, and I don't know it, but I'm getting up in four hours...
Monday, July 23, 2007
Cleveland Richfield Rocks!
No, not the one in MN. (listening to: my head pounding)
Ok, so.. I spent last weekend in Ohio with Natalie. Meeting her family. They're wonderful, amazing people, and I'm totally serious when I say there isn't ONE of them I didn't like. Which is interesting, because I met them all. Literally. Every. Last. One. It was like a family reunion, and I was invited. The odds were high for embarrassment, and embarrassment there was. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's give you the play-by-play, shall we? I'll post one day at a time, so you can get the dramatic feel for the trip.
*NOTICE* I have pictures that help me tell this story, but at the moment, I can't get them onto my computer. I will post them as they become available, filling in the holes.
--DAY 1--
Our flight leaves Minneapolis at 7pm local time, so we had to be at the airport at 6. The idea is that I'll pick up Natalie at her house, and then we'll park at the Mall of America (specifically, one of the hotels next door) and then take the light rail to the airport. What I didn't count on was the fact that this is a REALLY good idea, so it's already been thought of. You can't park at the hotels next to the mall. They do nightly sweeps. Damn. So, we drive to the airport to park there. For $16 a day. For three days. Awesome.
When we finally get to the airport, We go through security, and because I didn't bag my liquids, my bag has to be opened and inspected. Apparently, the rule is that any container larger than 3.4oz cannot be carried on. Listen carefully to that... Any CONTAINER. It could be empty, but you still can't carry it on. Madjai loses his hair product, shaving cream and toothpaste. This is an awesome trip, and we're still in Minneapolis.
Now, sans-gels, we're hungry. So, we stop for a burrito at the airport common area. (By the way- two burritos and a coke at the airport common area is $18. Keep that in mind when traveling, folks.) This is Natalie really excited about leaving:
[[Picture of Natalie at Airport]]
And this is her burrito, which is decidedly less exciting:
[[Picture of Natalie flipping off her busted burrito]]
Skipping ahead a few hours, we land in Cleveland, and Natalie's Mom and Dad are there. This is a moment I have much apprehension about. Her Mom is a lovely woman, who reminds me instantly of my theatre professor in college. Uncannily so. Her Dad is a tall and affable fellow, who shakes my hand and welcomes me to Cleveland. (Side note: He calls me by my name as he's loading up our luggage. The first and last time he will get my name right all weekend.)
It's a 35 minute drive to Natalie's sister's house, where we are staying (let's call her Francesca). Francesca, I'm told, lives with a man (who we will call Brain, for two reasons) who is me in 12 years. I'm excited to meet him. Mom is very nice and is pointing out landmarks to me, and asks me questions about my life and my work. Dad is very silent as he drives, talking only twice to Natalie, and answering only direct questions with direct answers. I'm pretty sure I catch him staring at me in the rearview mirror at least twice with eyes of nearly infinite suspicion.
We pull into Francesca and Brain's driveway, and Brain meets us at the door. This guy is my style. He gives us a brief tour of his rambling suburban mansion, complete with a room that could quite easily control either several nuclear missile silos or rogue black ops agents in the remote corners of the world. Two computers, each with dual monitors (one of which is a 30" LCD), and every piece of equipment in this room glows either red or blue or green. I'm in heaven.
Francesca is a taller version of Natalie, with longer, straighter hair. She's lovely, and her and Brain make a cute couple. They have two children, "Harris" and "Jackie," who I will find out very soon are two of the CUTEST kids ever created. They are sleeping at the moment, however, so I won't meet them until Day 2.
We chat for a bit with Brain and Fran, and they make us feel instantly at home. I like these people, they're easy to talk to, and they are very down-to-earth. Also, as a bonus, they don't seem to be interested in quizzing me about my life. Which is nice, because it's late, and I'm very tired. As Brain shows us our guest room, replete with TV and DVD player, I realize that it's only 10pm my time. I'm still Exhausted from our trip though, so we watch 7 minutes of Adventures in Babysitting before passing out. This is the most sleep I'll get all weekend, and so far... I have no idea just how much is about to happen.
Ok, so.. I spent last weekend in Ohio with Natalie. Meeting her family. They're wonderful, amazing people, and I'm totally serious when I say there isn't ONE of them I didn't like. Which is interesting, because I met them all. Literally. Every. Last. One. It was like a family reunion, and I was invited. The odds were high for embarrassment, and embarrassment there was. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's give you the play-by-play, shall we? I'll post one day at a time, so you can get the dramatic feel for the trip.
*NOTICE* I have pictures that help me tell this story, but at the moment, I can't get them onto my computer. I will post them as they become available, filling in the holes.
--DAY 1--
Our flight leaves Minneapolis at 7pm local time, so we had to be at the airport at 6. The idea is that I'll pick up Natalie at her house, and then we'll park at the Mall of America (specifically, one of the hotels next door) and then take the light rail to the airport. What I didn't count on was the fact that this is a REALLY good idea, so it's already been thought of. You can't park at the hotels next to the mall. They do nightly sweeps. Damn. So, we drive to the airport to park there. For $16 a day. For three days. Awesome.
When we finally get to the airport, We go through security, and because I didn't bag my liquids, my bag has to be opened and inspected. Apparently, the rule is that any container larger than 3.4oz cannot be carried on. Listen carefully to that... Any CONTAINER. It could be empty, but you still can't carry it on. Madjai loses his hair product, shaving cream and toothpaste. This is an awesome trip, and we're still in Minneapolis.
Now, sans-gels, we're hungry. So, we stop for a burrito at the airport common area. (By the way- two burritos and a coke at the airport common area is $18. Keep that in mind when traveling, folks.) This is Natalie really excited about leaving:
[[Picture of Natalie at Airport]]
And this is her burrito, which is decidedly less exciting:
[[Picture of Natalie flipping off her busted burrito]]
Skipping ahead a few hours, we land in Cleveland, and Natalie's Mom and Dad are there. This is a moment I have much apprehension about. Her Mom is a lovely woman, who reminds me instantly of my theatre professor in college. Uncannily so. Her Dad is a tall and affable fellow, who shakes my hand and welcomes me to Cleveland. (Side note: He calls me by my name as he's loading up our luggage. The first and last time he will get my name right all weekend.)
It's a 35 minute drive to Natalie's sister's house, where we are staying (let's call her Francesca). Francesca, I'm told, lives with a man (who we will call Brain, for two reasons) who is me in 12 years. I'm excited to meet him. Mom is very nice and is pointing out landmarks to me, and asks me questions about my life and my work. Dad is very silent as he drives, talking only twice to Natalie, and answering only direct questions with direct answers. I'm pretty sure I catch him staring at me in the rearview mirror at least twice with eyes of nearly infinite suspicion.
We pull into Francesca and Brain's driveway, and Brain meets us at the door. This guy is my style. He gives us a brief tour of his rambling suburban mansion, complete with a room that could quite easily control either several nuclear missile silos or rogue black ops agents in the remote corners of the world. Two computers, each with dual monitors (one of which is a 30" LCD), and every piece of equipment in this room glows either red or blue or green. I'm in heaven.
Francesca is a taller version of Natalie, with longer, straighter hair. She's lovely, and her and Brain make a cute couple. They have two children, "Harris" and "Jackie," who I will find out very soon are two of the CUTEST kids ever created. They are sleeping at the moment, however, so I won't meet them until Day 2.
We chat for a bit with Brain and Fran, and they make us feel instantly at home. I like these people, they're easy to talk to, and they are very down-to-earth. Also, as a bonus, they don't seem to be interested in quizzing me about my life. Which is nice, because it's late, and I'm very tired. As Brain shows us our guest room, replete with TV and DVD player, I realize that it's only 10pm my time. I'm still Exhausted from our trip though, so we watch 7 minutes of Adventures in Babysitting before passing out. This is the most sleep I'll get all weekend, and so far... I have no idea just how much is about to happen.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Aw, Nuts
I'm so bloody clever. (listening to: "Untitled I" by Keane)
So, last week I sent out three packets consisting of two headshots, a resume and a cover letter to three of the local talent agencies. Monday, I got a call from Nuts asking if I would come in for an audition. For representation. Today.
This is a stressful enough weekend as it is, and to have this looming over my head today is both wonderful and terrible. There was a story "they" made us read in primary school about this knight who wanted to marry the princess. The king was an evil king, and made all suitors pass a test. He would place the knight in an arena with two doors. Behind one of the doors was the princess. Behind the other, a dragon. If the knight opened the door to the princess, he would be able to marry her. If he opened the door to the dragon... well...
I kinda feel like that. I feel like I've got my hand on the door, and I'm about to open it, knowing that I could just as easily find the dragon behind it. Or, if you prefer a somewhat less medieval analogy: Remember those movies where the bomb is about to go off, and the guy has the pair of scissors, and he's got one of the wires and is about to cut it... yeah. It's like that.
I guess I'm not really sure what I'm nervous about. I mean, I've been acting somewhat successfully in this town for about three years now, and I never had an agent. Now that one is in the possible future, if I falter and don't get an offer, does that really harm me in any way? Specifically, I suppose my thinking is that if an agency sees nothing special in me, my chances of actually making a living doing this in the future are greatly diminished. And that's what I want. I want to be able to just do what I'm good at for the rest of my life. I don't think that's too much to ask.
========UPDATE==========
A summary of my audition.
Went in there with two women, Cindy* and Ruth* (All names have been changed). Talked a bit about whatever, then we went in to the office. It's Myself, two girls, and two other guys, none of whom I know. We chat for a bit about what an agent is, what they do, what to expect and what not. Then, it's time for the on-camera audition. So, there's a stack of copy on the desk, and we're told to pick a commercial and an industrial (usually a training video of some time, but not always). I choose the industrial with some guy talking about how a store displays merchandise, and a commercial about buying auto parts. One of the women goes in ahead of me, and I run over the scripts as I wait my turn.
At the last minute, I change my mind about the commercial choice, and choose a Timber Lodge Steakhouse commercial. I walk into the "studio," and one of the other agents is filming with Cindy there as well. He's watching the Twins game on gamecast. :^)
I stand in front of the camera, we chat a bit about my experience on camera (almost nothing) say my name, and do my first read. The steak commercial. Let's see what I can remember:
Then it wraps up with more name dropping.
Now, as I said, I'm not the first person to go. The girl before me was in there for like 10 minutes, and I could hear her read, and then re-read, and on and on. I finish my read, and the guy says, "Ok. What's your other one."
...I'm not sure how to take this. I do my other one, and it's short. So, when I finish, the guy isn't looking at me. He's reading my resume. He realizes I'm done, and he looks up, stops the camera and says,
Explanation: Ear prompting is big in industrials. There's so much script, and no time to memorize, so you record your lines on a tape, and then you wear an earwig which plays it back. You talk along with your recording.
It's... fucking hard.
So, yeah.. I think that went well.
END TRANSMISSION...
So, last week I sent out three packets consisting of two headshots, a resume and a cover letter to three of the local talent agencies. Monday, I got a call from Nuts asking if I would come in for an audition. For representation. Today.
This is a stressful enough weekend as it is, and to have this looming over my head today is both wonderful and terrible. There was a story "they" made us read in primary school about this knight who wanted to marry the princess. The king was an evil king, and made all suitors pass a test. He would place the knight in an arena with two doors. Behind one of the doors was the princess. Behind the other, a dragon. If the knight opened the door to the princess, he would be able to marry her. If he opened the door to the dragon... well...
I kinda feel like that. I feel like I've got my hand on the door, and I'm about to open it, knowing that I could just as easily find the dragon behind it. Or, if you prefer a somewhat less medieval analogy: Remember those movies where the bomb is about to go off, and the guy has the pair of scissors, and he's got one of the wires and is about to cut it... yeah. It's like that.
I guess I'm not really sure what I'm nervous about. I mean, I've been acting somewhat successfully in this town for about three years now, and I never had an agent. Now that one is in the possible future, if I falter and don't get an offer, does that really harm me in any way? Specifically, I suppose my thinking is that if an agency sees nothing special in me, my chances of actually making a living doing this in the future are greatly diminished. And that's what I want. I want to be able to just do what I'm good at for the rest of my life. I don't think that's too much to ask.
========UPDATE==========
A summary of my audition.
Went in there with two women, Cindy* and Ruth* (All names have been changed). Talked a bit about whatever, then we went in to the office. It's Myself, two girls, and two other guys, none of whom I know. We chat for a bit about what an agent is, what they do, what to expect and what not. Then, it's time for the on-camera audition. So, there's a stack of copy on the desk, and we're told to pick a commercial and an industrial (usually a training video of some time, but not always). I choose the industrial with some guy talking about how a store displays merchandise, and a commercial about buying auto parts. One of the women goes in ahead of me, and I run over the scripts as I wait my turn.
At the last minute, I change my mind about the commercial choice, and choose a Timber Lodge Steakhouse commercial. I walk into the "studio," and one of the other agents is filming with Cindy there as well. He's watching the Twins game on gamecast. :^)
I stand in front of the camera, we chat a bit about my experience on camera (almost nothing) say my name, and do my first read. The steak commercial. Let's see what I can remember:
We here at Timber Lodge Steakhouse know that some of you out there really love our steaks. So much so that you're giving them away as holiday gifts. You come in, order a steak and shrimp platter to go, as if we have gift wrap, and then return home and place it under the tree. We cannot stress enough that this is not a good idea. First of all, the wrapping paper smashes down the sour cream on the baked potato, and the traditional shaking of the package before opening really ruins the artful presentation. Not to mention the problems this might cause in houses with dogs. Might we suggest a simpler solution? Gift cards.
Then it wraps up with more name dropping.
Now, as I said, I'm not the first person to go. The girl before me was in there for like 10 minutes, and I could hear her read, and then re-read, and on and on. I finish my read, and the guy says, "Ok. What's your other one."
...I'm not sure how to take this. I do my other one, and it's short. So, when I finish, the guy isn't looking at me. He's reading my resume. He realizes I'm done, and he looks up, stops the camera and says,
Him:"Madjai. You NEED to get into ear prompting."
Me: "I took a class on it in college."
Him: "You got the equipment?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Buy it. Today. You've got the right look and presence for it, and you'll get a ton of work. Give [prominent twin cities actor] a run for his money."
Me: [ silent, big shit-eating grin ]
Him: "Yeah. You're done. We'll see yo-- you'll get a letter from us."
Explanation: Ear prompting is big in industrials. There's so much script, and no time to memorize, so you record your lines on a tape, and then you wear an earwig which plays it back. You talk along with your recording.
It's... fucking hard.
So, yeah.. I think that went well.
END TRANSMISSION...
Friday, July 13, 2007
What I Do At Work
Seriously, someone please find me a better job. (listening to: someone hammering... like, 100 feet away)
While I don't have this exact conversation every day, here's a good example of what I do in between actual calls.
XXXX: bored
me: cracks knuckles
XXXX: your blog is un-updated
-- 14 minutes go by --
me: True business.
me: What should I blog about?
XXXX: i got nothing
me: Give me a topic
XXXX: hmm
XXXX: blackberry
me: Like, the phone?
-- 3 minutes go by --
XXXX: do your student loans make you ill?
XXXX: how can I make them go away...
XXXX: think I can just ignore them?
XXXX: how can I get a new social security numbeR?
me: I saw it in Coneheads... you just need to go find Adam Sandler. He'll hook you up.
XXXX: done and done
me: You know where to find him?
XXXX: he hangs out at the skylark
XXXX: i will see him tonight
XXXX is busy. You may be interrupting.
-- My Phone rings --
Me: "Thank you for calling xxxxxx Support, This is, How can I help you?"
Caller: "Hi... I have a problem."
Me: "Alright, Can I have your site ID?" (A 5-digit code that each company gets to identify themselves to us.)
Caller: "XXXXX"
Me: "Ok. Who am I speaking with?"
Caller: "Mike."
-- Pause, as I wait for him to say his last name, as I'm sure he's not the only person named "Mike" in the company. Finally... --
Me: "What's your last name, Mike?"
Mike: ""
Me: "Great. How can I help."
Mike: "My order entry program doesn't work."
-- At this point, I can tell this call is either going to be very long, or very short. And it will most definitely be painful. When a caller says something "doesn't work" and then doesn't say anything else, we can usually tell they have no idea what they're doing --
Me: "Alright. Can you clarify what you mean by 'doesn't work'?"
Mike: "I'm getting an error message."
Me: Thinking:"Well, Hallelujah."
-- At this point, there's another pause. You'd think that our friend Mikey would catch on that maybe I need to know what the error message says. Nope. --
Me: "What does the error message say, Mike?"
Mike: "Oh. You need that. Uhhh... It says 'customer is required.'"
-- I know the answer before I ask... --
Me: "Did you enter a customer into the order, Mike?"
Mike: "Oh. I have to do that?"
Me: "Yeah. The error message is telling you that the order needs a customer."
Mike: "Oh. OK."
*click*
Mike has hung up on me. Apparently, he's gotten what he needs from me. I feel so used. I write up the call-
PROBLEM DESCRIPTION:
User called in with an error message: "Customer is required" when entering a new order in order entry.
PROBLEM RESOLUTION:
Let user know that customer was a mandatory field. Customer hung up before solution could be verified.
-- Back to chat --
me: Some customers are idiots.
XXXX: no
me: Seriously. I have a college degree, and my grasp of basic logic is far beyond some of these mouth-breathers. These are IT professionals and System managers at these companies, and they can't decipher a simple error message.
XXXX: haha. I FOUGHT OFF THE CHINESE THIS MORNING. FLEX
XXXX is busy. You may be interrupting.
And so it goes.
END TRANSMISSION...
While I don't have this exact conversation every day, here's a good example of what I do in between actual calls.
XXXX: bored
me: cracks knuckles
XXXX: your blog is un-updated
-- 14 minutes go by --
me: True business.
me: What should I blog about?
XXXX: i got nothing
me: Give me a topic
XXXX: hmm
XXXX: blackberry
me: Like, the phone?
-- 3 minutes go by --
XXXX: do your student loans make you ill?
XXXX: how can I make them go away...
XXXX: think I can just ignore them?
XXXX: how can I get a new social security numbeR?
me: I saw it in Coneheads... you just need to go find Adam Sandler. He'll hook you up.
XXXX: done and done
me: You know where to find him?
XXXX: he hangs out at the skylark
XXXX: i will see him tonight
XXXX is busy. You may be interrupting.
-- My Phone rings --
Me: "Thank you for calling xxxxxx Support, This is
Caller: "Hi... I have a problem."
Me: "Alright, Can I have your site ID?" (A 5-digit code that each company gets to identify themselves to us.)
Caller: "XXXXX"
Me: "Ok. Who am I speaking with?"
Caller: "Mike."
-- Pause, as I wait for him to say his last name, as I'm sure he's not the only person named "Mike" in the company. Finally... --
Me: "What's your last name, Mike?"
Mike: "
Me: "Great. How can I help."
Mike: "My order entry program doesn't work."
-- At this point, I can tell this call is either going to be very long, or very short. And it will most definitely be painful. When a caller says something "doesn't work" and then doesn't say anything else, we can usually tell they have no idea what they're doing --
Me: "Alright. Can you clarify what you mean by 'doesn't work'?"
Mike: "I'm getting an error message."
Me: Thinking:"Well, Hallelujah."
-- At this point, there's another pause. You'd think that our friend Mikey would catch on that maybe I need to know what the error message says. Nope. --
Me: "What does the error message say, Mike?"
Mike: "Oh. You need that. Uhhh... It says 'customer is required.'"
-- I know the answer before I ask... --
Me: "Did you enter a customer into the order, Mike?"
Mike: "Oh. I have to do that?"
Me: "Yeah. The error message is telling you that the order needs a customer."
Mike: "Oh. OK."
*click*
Mike has hung up on me. Apparently, he's gotten what he needs from me. I feel so used. I write up the call-
PROBLEM DESCRIPTION:
User called in with an error message: "Customer is required" when entering a new order in order entry.
PROBLEM RESOLUTION:
Let user know that customer was a mandatory field. Customer hung up before solution could be verified.
-- Back to chat --
me: Some customers are idiots.
XXXX: no
me: Seriously. I have a college degree, and my grasp of basic logic is far beyond some of these mouth-breathers. These are IT professionals and System managers at these companies, and they can't decipher a simple error message.
XXXX: haha. I FOUGHT OFF THE CHINESE THIS MORNING. FLEX
XXXX is busy. You may be interrupting.
And so it goes.
END TRANSMISSION...
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Tonight...
I am sad. (listening to: Ender softly purring on my lap)
It is a hopeful sadness, one that knows it is supposed to be melancholy and yet knows that it will end, giving way to a smile, a laugh, a clearing sigh.
Tonight's sadness is brought on my memory. But not mine. I get like this when I read a well-written book. I strive to make my own thoughts more articulate. More prosaic, more... meaningful. Speaker for the Dead does this to me every time, and I've read that damn thing dozens of times. Tonight, though.. it's a new book- one recommended to me by Natalie. It's her favorite, and whenever someone goes out of their way to tell me what their FAVORITE book is, I make it a point to read it. You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite book.
This one is called The Time Traveler's Wife, and I've had all 540 pages of it for just over a week. I couldn't put it down. It was incredible. I loved it. I just finished it, and it put me into this mood.
I wish I could describe this mood with a better voice than my own. Like Byron or Shelley. I want to describe it using words that make the reader feel it as though they were me. What I really wish is that I could bottle it, and savor it like a dry wine at some point many years from now. I love the way it feels in my head. Like a pretentious poet or philosopher. It makes me feel egotistical and florid, the way a robe and a leather-bound book instantly speaks with a british accent "This guy takes himself way too seriously." This feeling is done away instantly by anyone not completely in tune with it speaking to me, so I am somewhat glad that tonight, I am alone, with only my son on my lap, happily dozing.
I'm not actually even here right now. The open deck door I sit next to shouts at me every time a car drives by with the loud, incessant noise of rubber on asphalt; but that's not the noise I hear. It's a crackling fire, the sound of pine logs popping fast and loud, the sap melting and exploding in little puffs of white smoke. The ticking of my keys as I punch each one in turn is the long slow clucking of a grandfather clock, steadily meteing out each second of the time I have in this place. It's a room I know well, and I love the delicious bullshit that comes out of it. I do my best thinking here, my best self-reflection, and it always, ALWAYS manifests itself in things that would normally make my eyes roll, itself heavy with its own ego.
But to me, it's delicious. A savory fruit or a warm blanket, I can feel it permeate me in heady intellectualism. And what comes of this foray into mental masturbation? Usually, a piece of writing that is itself significant to only me. My favorite result of this place is an old story I wrote about a man and a woman seperated by a river. It never holds the same beauty and elegance to someone else, and I always end up feeling like a heel whenever someone reads anything I've done in this room. But to hell with it. This is me, and this is now, so it's real, and it's a part of me.
Please, join me here?
END TRANSMISSION...
It is a hopeful sadness, one that knows it is supposed to be melancholy and yet knows that it will end, giving way to a smile, a laugh, a clearing sigh.
Tonight's sadness is brought on my memory. But not mine. I get like this when I read a well-written book. I strive to make my own thoughts more articulate. More prosaic, more... meaningful. Speaker for the Dead does this to me every time, and I've read that damn thing dozens of times. Tonight, though.. it's a new book- one recommended to me by Natalie. It's her favorite, and whenever someone goes out of their way to tell me what their FAVORITE book is, I make it a point to read it. You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite book.
This one is called The Time Traveler's Wife, and I've had all 540 pages of it for just over a week. I couldn't put it down. It was incredible. I loved it. I just finished it, and it put me into this mood.
I wish I could describe this mood with a better voice than my own. Like Byron or Shelley. I want to describe it using words that make the reader feel it as though they were me. What I really wish is that I could bottle it, and savor it like a dry wine at some point many years from now. I love the way it feels in my head. Like a pretentious poet or philosopher. It makes me feel egotistical and florid, the way a robe and a leather-bound book instantly speaks with a british accent "This guy takes himself way too seriously." This feeling is done away instantly by anyone not completely in tune with it speaking to me, so I am somewhat glad that tonight, I am alone, with only my son on my lap, happily dozing.
I'm not actually even here right now. The open deck door I sit next to shouts at me every time a car drives by with the loud, incessant noise of rubber on asphalt; but that's not the noise I hear. It's a crackling fire, the sound of pine logs popping fast and loud, the sap melting and exploding in little puffs of white smoke. The ticking of my keys as I punch each one in turn is the long slow clucking of a grandfather clock, steadily meteing out each second of the time I have in this place. It's a room I know well, and I love the delicious bullshit that comes out of it. I do my best thinking here, my best self-reflection, and it always, ALWAYS manifests itself in things that would normally make my eyes roll, itself heavy with its own ego.
But to me, it's delicious. A savory fruit or a warm blanket, I can feel it permeate me in heady intellectualism. And what comes of this foray into mental masturbation? Usually, a piece of writing that is itself significant to only me. My favorite result of this place is an old story I wrote about a man and a woman seperated by a river. It never holds the same beauty and elegance to someone else, and I always end up feeling like a heel whenever someone reads anything I've done in this room. But to hell with it. This is me, and this is now, so it's real, and it's a part of me.
Please, join me here?
END TRANSMISSION...
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Eloi, Eloi
What have I done? (listening to: Energetic Hold Music)
So, I'm sitting here on hold with a customer at work, and realized that I haven't blogged in much too long. Apologize. Mea Culpa. I'll try and blog while I'm solving these people's stoopid problems. (I love my job)
I shot my very first commercial yesterday. For Minnesota School of Business. It was... an interesting experience, and a very lucrative one. 90 minutes of work. Let me tell you something:
And, cut. Things I've learned from this experience:
So, that was a humbling experience. I learned that I didn't like the work, but I like the paycheck. Ain't that always the way? I'll be getting a DVD of the spot in a couple weeks, so look for it here or on my website.
July 4th is rapidly coming up. If you can read this, there's going to be a big pool party at my place. It's going to be awesome. We're grilling (BYOM) and drinking (BYOB) and swimming (BYO... nudity?) and watching the fireworks (provided). Let me know if you're planning on coming so I can prepare. But do come. Everyone's gonna be there.
I've been very busy with Agamemnon opening up last weekend to a GREAT crowd. Thanks to everyone who could make it. We haven't been reviewed yet, but I'm hoping we will this weekend. That would be nice. If you haven't seen it yet, come check it out! I get a sword! And a hot mistress! What else is there?
Quick things I'm thinking about before I sign off.
- I don't care if Paris Hilton goes to jail or not. I quite literally have better things to do with my mental energy.
- Dr. Pepper is possibly the greatest soda ever.
- Though, Mr. Pibb and Red Vines DOES equal crazy-delicious.
- Please, don't let Peyton Manning hang out with your kids.
- If you like licorice, try Twizzlers Rainbow Twists. I promise you won't be disappointed.
- People are losing their verbal skills. If I have to make sense of one more insane customer's babbling, I'm going to go all Jackson Pollock on them.
- I had forgotten what it was like to have someone genuinely caring about your feelings. It's nice. I like it.
- Being inconspicuous about something only works when it's not the ONLY time you're inconspicuous. My co-workers don't understand this.
- The Twins are awesome. How awesome you ask? I'm glad you did. Allow me to leave you with this:
END TRANSMISSION...
So, I'm sitting here on hold with a customer at work, and realized that I haven't blogged in much too long. Apologize. Mea Culpa. I'll try and blog while I'm solving these people's stoopid problems. (I love my job)
I shot my very first commercial yesterday. For Minnesota School of Business. It was... an interesting experience, and a very lucrative one. 90 minutes of work. Let me tell you something:
IT is quickly showing itself in all realms of business as a necessary and powerful language. I teach IT at Minnesota School of Business / Globe University to give students the edge they'll need to succeed in the marketplace. Along with their IT degree, they can become proficient in Database Design, Network Administration and Software Development. Our IT grads are confident, prepared, and in-demand.
And, cut. Things I've learned from this experience:
- I pronounce the word "our" like "are." This is not a good thing. Try it yourself sometime in conversation. I'll bet you do, too.
- Saying the phrase "business as a necessary" is a lot of s-sounds. It doesn't read well on-camera.
- 5 seconds is much faster than you think.
- The director will laugh at the first few times you muck up a line, but after the 10th or so, it's not funny anymore.
So, that was a humbling experience. I learned that I didn't like the work, but I like the paycheck. Ain't that always the way? I'll be getting a DVD of the spot in a couple weeks, so look for it here or on my website.
July 4th is rapidly coming up. If you can read this, there's going to be a big pool party at my place. It's going to be awesome. We're grilling (BYOM) and drinking (BYOB) and swimming (BYO... nudity?) and watching the fireworks (provided). Let me know if you're planning on coming so I can prepare. But do come. Everyone's gonna be there.
I've been very busy with Agamemnon opening up last weekend to a GREAT crowd. Thanks to everyone who could make it. We haven't been reviewed yet, but I'm hoping we will this weekend. That would be nice. If you haven't seen it yet, come check it out! I get a sword! And a hot mistress! What else is there?
Quick things I'm thinking about before I sign off.
- I don't care if Paris Hilton goes to jail or not. I quite literally have better things to do with my mental energy.
- Dr. Pepper is possibly the greatest soda ever.
- Though, Mr. Pibb and Red Vines DOES equal crazy-delicious.
- Please, don't let Peyton Manning hang out with your kids.
- If you like licorice, try Twizzlers Rainbow Twists. I promise you won't be disappointed.
- People are losing their verbal skills. If I have to make sense of one more insane customer's babbling, I'm going to go all Jackson Pollock on them.
- I had forgotten what it was like to have someone genuinely caring about your feelings. It's nice. I like it.
- Being inconspicuous about something only works when it's not the ONLY time you're inconspicuous. My co-workers don't understand this.
- The Twins are awesome. How awesome you ask? I'm glad you did. Allow me to leave you with this:
END TRANSMISSION...
Thursday, May 17, 2007
100 POSTS!! Open the Champagne!
Welcome to my 100th post-iversary party! (listening to "Hail to the Chief")
Wow. 100 posts already. It's been 2 and a half years that we've been together. I guess at a time like this, you look back to the beginning. When I started this blog, I worked at a retail store, didn't work at Comedy Sportz, and didn't really have a theatre life here in the cities.
Today, I'm working full-time at a job with health insurance on top of 10-12 shows a month at CSz, and theatre has been very very good to me in this city. I'd like to thank everyone who's been with me since the beginning, and give a nod to the new faces just joining up. It's been a great ride. Here's to 100 more!
In recent news, Last weekend was Chicago to surprise my Mom for Mother's Day. We spent some time with Orion in Milwacky for a couple days, enjoying every moment of that before moving on to the windy city for brunch and an epic journey across the city with Mom and Dad. We had ice cream by the lake, and even took in a show. (Thank you, Patch and Pickle!) It was one of the single best weekends of my life, and I have Natalie, Orion, Ash, Bombs, and Mom and Dad to thank. Wonderful.
Interesting moments:
IJS.
Then we had to come back here. Which.. isn't bad... it's just... not there. Ah, Truer words were never spoken, Madjai. Well done.
I shoot the pilot episode of CENTER EARTH this weekend. 10 hours of shooting, 5 lines. Awesome, right? I think so. Hopefully I'll be able to take pictures of myself in the uniform. That'd be hot.
PS- Keep your thoughts going for that Cub thing. I haven't heard back yet, but I retain hope. You should too.
100th post... fin.
END TRANSMISSION...
Wow. 100 posts already. It's been 2 and a half years that we've been together. I guess at a time like this, you look back to the beginning. When I started this blog, I worked at a retail store, didn't work at Comedy Sportz, and didn't really have a theatre life here in the cities.
Today, I'm working full-time at a job with health insurance on top of 10-12 shows a month at CSz, and theatre has been very very good to me in this city. I'd like to thank everyone who's been with me since the beginning, and give a nod to the new faces just joining up. It's been a great ride. Here's to 100 more!
In recent news, Last weekend was Chicago to surprise my Mom for Mother's Day. We spent some time with Orion in Milwacky for a couple days, enjoying every moment of that before moving on to the windy city for brunch and an epic journey across the city with Mom and Dad. We had ice cream by the lake, and even took in a show. (Thank you, Patch and Pickle!) It was one of the single best weekends of my life, and I have Natalie, Orion, Ash, Bombs, and Mom and Dad to thank. Wonderful.
Interesting moments:
- An Albino deer. Seriously
- The one-hour break-up
- Orion thinks that the US has 60 states
- He also cannot say the word "cattle," given the first HALF of the word
- Natalie and Ash are quite terrible at Catchphrase... like.. skunked-terrible
- Orion breaks things when he's
drunk"tired" - Patch Adams is a needlessly sad movie
- I now like Guacamole
- Grilling a feast on a hibachi takes 2 hours
- Driving from Milwaukee to Chicago, however, does not
- Mom likes surprises
- The el train line that you most need to be running, will not be
- It's a long walk across Chicago
- You can't "take it back"
- Male ducks are pretty, female ducks are not
- Playing Patch would be awesome. Pickle, not so much
- Both Strongbad and Penny Arcade are awesome, and I'm not alone on this
- The Oasis on I-90 is not vegetarian-friendly
IJS.
Then we had to come back here. Which.. isn't bad... it's just... not there. Ah, Truer words were never spoken, Madjai. Well done.
I shoot the pilot episode of CENTER EARTH this weekend. 10 hours of shooting, 5 lines. Awesome, right? I think so. Hopefully I'll be able to take pictures of myself in the uniform. That'd be hot.
PS- Keep your thoughts going for that Cub thing. I haven't heard back yet, but I retain hope. You should too.
100th post... fin.
END TRANSMISSION...
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
I Sense A Theme...
And I don't so much mind. (listening to: "Tiny Explosions" by The Presidents of the United States of America)
Hee hee!!! Look! It's TC Bear! Go Twins!
Last night's Twins game was amazing, BTW, for those of you who missed it. Justin Morneau is a God among men. This is true. But enough about baseball. It's all I blog about lately. What else...
I had a callback for Cub Foods yesterday that went smashingly. They're looking to hire someone to be their new radio spokesperson, and I managed to get a callback. I riffed with one of the ad agency guys for five minutes about ribs. It was entertaining. Hopefully that will work out. It'd be nice to have people hear me on the radio. :)
There's a topic that's been on my mind lately. I'd like to hear your thoughts. I know more than a few people who are really judgmental towards others who claim to be of a certain religion and yet do not attend services for that religion. Why is this? Does going to a church and being there for an hour every week somehow make you a better Catholic/Christian/Jew/Etc? I don't attend organized services because every time I find a church that I think that I like, they end up having some sort of strange philosophy that I don't agree with. Whereas living spiritually every day, constantly conversing with God (No, he doesn't talk back), I ascribe to a "religion" that perfectly encompasses my relationship with God. Jesus himself said (apologies to those whose religions don't include Yahweh, but I'm quoting for a purpose here)
Kinda puts that whole "Platitudes" thing into sharp relief, don't it? Clearly, I have my own opinions on this topic, and since It's my blog, I'll make them known, and I know for a fact that some who read this blog don't agree with me on this topic. Speak up. I won't judge you. Convince me.
In other news, I owe the IRS about $1,300 in back taxes. How cool am I? Bet you all wish you had helped me buy the Ecto1 now, don't you? Yes, I thought so.
Big weekend ahead. I can't talk about it here though, eyes are watching....
END TRANSMISSION...
Hee hee!!! Look! It's TC Bear! Go Twins!
Last night's Twins game was amazing, BTW, for those of you who missed it. Justin Morneau is a God among men. This is true. But enough about baseball. It's all I blog about lately. What else...
I had a callback for Cub Foods yesterday that went smashingly. They're looking to hire someone to be their new radio spokesperson, and I managed to get a callback. I riffed with one of the ad agency guys for five minutes about ribs. It was entertaining. Hopefully that will work out. It'd be nice to have people hear me on the radio. :)
There's a topic that's been on my mind lately. I'd like to hear your thoughts. I know more than a few people who are really judgmental towards others who claim to be of a certain religion and yet do not attend services for that religion. Why is this? Does going to a church and being there for an hour every week somehow make you a better Catholic/Christian/Jew/Etc? I don't attend organized services because every time I find a church that I think that I like, they end up having some sort of strange philosophy that I don't agree with. Whereas living spiritually every day, constantly conversing with God (No, he doesn't talk back), I ascribe to a "religion" that perfectly encompasses my relationship with God. Jesus himself said (apologies to those whose religions don't include Yahweh, but I'm quoting for a purpose here)
And when you pray, do not pray like the two-faced (closer translation is "hypocrites), for they love to pray standing in the worship centers and on the corners of the streets, so they can be seen by people. Amen! I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, enter into your private room, then after you have shut your door, pray to your Lord in secret. And your Lord who sees all secrets shall reward you in the open. When you pray, do not perform useless repetitions, as the pagans do. They are deceived into thinking they will be heard due to the amount of their speech. In no way act like the pagans, for your Lord knows what you need before you ask Him.
-Matthew 6
Kinda puts that whole "Platitudes" thing into sharp relief, don't it? Clearly, I have my own opinions on this topic, and since It's my blog, I'll make them known, and I know for a fact that some who read this blog don't agree with me on this topic. Speak up. I won't judge you. Convince me.
In other news, I owe the IRS about $1,300 in back taxes. How cool am I? Bet you all wish you had helped me buy the Ecto1 now, don't you? Yes, I thought so.
Big weekend ahead. I can't talk about it here though, eyes are watching....
END TRANSMISSION...
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Take Me Out to the Ballgame
Now batting for the Knights, #15, MADJAI! (listening to: "Cleveland Rocks" by the Presidents of the United States of America.. unfortunately)
What a weekend of sports. Sunday saw the first Callboard Knights game of the Season, as well as the second. (D-league softball plays doubleheaders every day) The Knights are currently 1-0-1 on the year. I had a chance to play first base for the season opener, and it was easily the most fun I've had outside in a very long time. For you statheads out there, Madjai is currently batting .500 (1 for 2) on the season with a double and a run. More updates on that to come.
And, the beloved Twins lost a heartbreaker in extra innings, despite Natalie's prediction to the contrary. Cleveland came out strong with 3 runs in the 5th, and the Twins answered back with 3 solid in the 6th. It took until the 12th, but then Cleveland scored 4 big runs and put the nail in our coffin. However, it wasn't all tears as much ice cream was shared, and oh yeah.. cuteness:
Myself, Natalie, Vince and Alyson were all on the jumbotron for the first time in my baseball-going career as well, so that was damn awesome. A good night, if a late one.
PS- ANYONE who hasn't seen Major League yet... I need to know. We're going to watch it. At my place. Sometime this week. Seriously, people. Seriously.
EDIT: How come nobody told me I have a giant nose?
END TRANSMISSION...
What a weekend of sports. Sunday saw the first Callboard Knights game of the Season, as well as the second. (D-league softball plays doubleheaders every day) The Knights are currently 1-0-1 on the year. I had a chance to play first base for the season opener, and it was easily the most fun I've had outside in a very long time. For you statheads out there, Madjai is currently batting .500 (1 for 2) on the season with a double and a run. More updates on that to come.
And, the beloved Twins lost a heartbreaker in extra innings, despite Natalie's prediction to the contrary. Cleveland came out strong with 3 runs in the 5th, and the Twins answered back with 3 solid in the 6th. It took until the 12th, but then Cleveland scored 4 big runs and put the nail in our coffin. However, it wasn't all tears as much ice cream was shared, and oh yeah.. cuteness:
Myself, Natalie, Vince and Alyson were all on the jumbotron for the first time in my baseball-going career as well, so that was damn awesome. A good night, if a late one.
PS- ANYONE who hasn't seen Major League yet... I need to know. We're going to watch it. At my place. Sometime this week. Seriously, people. Seriously.
EDIT: How come nobody told me I have a giant nose?
END TRANSMISSION...
Monday, April 16, 2007
Lightning Strikes Twice
Coming soon to a theatre near you. (listening to: "Spare Me" on the Lightning Strikes Twice Motion Picture Soudtrack)
He was a man born into priviledge, only to have it taken away by the ruthless cartels of the underground bowling scene.
He was a hustler who grew up on the mean streets of St. Paul. Bowling his only escape, his only means of peace.
Brought together by the death of their bowling mentor, these two hotshots team up to bring down the evil that corrupts their beloved sport.
Madjai is Chip "Strikes" Leiberman.
Vince is "Lightning" Calhoun.
Together, they're going to clean up bowling, or die trying in........
Picture courtesy of KittyCat, Story by Grantregan. COMING SOON.
END TRANSMISSION...
He was a man born into priviledge, only to have it taken away by the ruthless cartels of the underground bowling scene.
He was a hustler who grew up on the mean streets of St. Paul. Bowling his only escape, his only means of peace.
Brought together by the death of their bowling mentor, these two hotshots team up to bring down the evil that corrupts their beloved sport.
Madjai is Chip "Strikes" Leiberman.
Vince is "Lightning" Calhoun.
Together, they're going to clean up bowling, or die trying in........
LIGHTNING STRIKES TWICE
Picture courtesy of KittyCat, Story by Grantregan. COMING SOON.
END TRANSMISSION...
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Web of Lies
"Oh, what a tangled web we weave..." (listening to "Chain of Fools" by Aretha Franklin)
So, Natalie has blogged about an... incident.. that occured at my place a couple of nights ago. I'm going to set the record straight about the goings on of that evening, but first.. her side. Please keep in mind that names have been changed to pseudonyms, and that this is from her point of view.
Ok. Here's what really happened...
Going into the final hand of the game, I did indeed need 8 points to win. I got my hand and had six points. An Ace was turned up, which completed a run in my hand giving me more than enough to win. At which point, I did indeed look up at Natalie and say that I had enough to win, and that since she counted first, she would need to peg a good number and get the rest from her hand. At this point, my memory of the events differs slightly. Natalie looked up at me and her lips formed the words, "It isn't going to happen," but her voice said "You will sleep now..." And her voice sounded strange, as if from a far away distance, but located in the front of my head. The next thing I know, I turn to Spike, and his glasses melt off his face and the walls of my apartment begin to slowly crush in on me. Just before they reach the table we're sitting at, they fall away, outwards, revealing a desert scene at night. The sky was bright purple and I looked over at Natalie who was now wearing a princess Leia slave bikini, and had a chain going from her neck to Spike's arm. Spike grew to the size of a mountain and his voice boomed across the desert sands: "SEEK OUT THE DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH..."
I turned on my heel and ran, but as I ran the sands became loose under my feet and I stumbled across the dunes never gaining ground from the monstrous sight behind me. I remember reaching out for Natalie who only laughed at my misfortune, and as I was swallowed up in the sands beneath me, I heard the same faint voice say, "fifteen-two-four-six, and a pair is eiiiiighhtt...."
I awoke from my hallucination to see Natalie's peg firmly ensconced in the "Finish" hole and Spike looking at me as if he himself didn't know what happened. Natalie was hopping around my apartment like a bunny on speed, and all I could think about was "Where the hell was I while all this was happening??"
Now, for those of you who know Natalie, her psychic powers are not a thing of mystery. She claims to have fallen in league with forces not of this earth, and clearly used them in this situation to curry favor with the cribbage gods. Well, this is a tactic that shall not go unnoticed. I cannot be held accountable for losses while under the effects of some black magick spell. Therefore, I declare her victory null and void until such time as she can be proven to beat me without skills against which I could only prevail if Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy could keep a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from dying or being turned into something unspeakable for longer than a year. Seriously.
END TRANSMISSION...
So, Natalie has blogged about an... incident.. that occured at my place a couple of nights ago. I'm going to set the record straight about the goings on of that evening, but first.. her side. Please keep in mind that names have been changed to pseudonyms, and that this is from her point of view.
"After that, I headed back to [Madjai]'s, and proceeded to BEAT HIM AND [SPIKE] in cribbage. It was the most dramatic ending to a game, ever.
Let me see if I can get it right. (This is going to be really fun to read if you play cribbage, and really, REALLY lame if you don't.)
I had 14 points left to win, and [Madjai] had 8 points left. [Spike] was behind. He was dealing. I was to his left.
I had 4,6,6,9 after discarding.
[Madjai] said to me, 'I have the points, so, you have to peg in to win.'
I said, 'It isn't going to happen.'
He said, 'Well, that was anti-climactic.'
The first counting round, I believe, ended with [Spike] getting 1 or 2 points. The next round started with me playing my 4, [Madjai] playing...I think...like, a 2 or something, and then [Spike] playing a 7, to take it up to 13. I then played a 6 for 19. [Madjai], being the cool guy that he is, played a 6 as well for 25, and took his 2 points. He then looked to [Spike] to play...anything. Anything 6 or lower. [Spike] looked up and said...'Go'.
I looked up, and I suddenly realized that I had...another 6. That's right, folks, 3 6's in a row, and a 31. Which gave me 8 POINTS AT ONCE FROM COUNTING. Which took me within 6 points to win, and I had 3 15's and a pair...so...um...yeah.
It was incredible. [Madjai] couldn't believe it...and it made my heart smile."
Ok. Here's what really happened...
Going into the final hand of the game, I did indeed need 8 points to win. I got my hand and had six points. An Ace was turned up, which completed a run in my hand giving me more than enough to win. At which point, I did indeed look up at Natalie and say that I had enough to win, and that since she counted first, she would need to peg a good number and get the rest from her hand. At this point, my memory of the events differs slightly. Natalie looked up at me and her lips formed the words, "It isn't going to happen," but her voice said "You will sleep now..." And her voice sounded strange, as if from a far away distance, but located in the front of my head. The next thing I know, I turn to Spike, and his glasses melt off his face and the walls of my apartment begin to slowly crush in on me. Just before they reach the table we're sitting at, they fall away, outwards, revealing a desert scene at night. The sky was bright purple and I looked over at Natalie who was now wearing a princess Leia slave bikini, and had a chain going from her neck to Spike's arm. Spike grew to the size of a mountain and his voice boomed across the desert sands: "SEEK OUT THE DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH..."
I turned on my heel and ran, but as I ran the sands became loose under my feet and I stumbled across the dunes never gaining ground from the monstrous sight behind me. I remember reaching out for Natalie who only laughed at my misfortune, and as I was swallowed up in the sands beneath me, I heard the same faint voice say, "fifteen-two-four-six, and a pair is eiiiiighhtt...."
I awoke from my hallucination to see Natalie's peg firmly ensconced in the "Finish" hole and Spike looking at me as if he himself didn't know what happened. Natalie was hopping around my apartment like a bunny on speed, and all I could think about was "Where the hell was I while all this was happening??"
Now, for those of you who know Natalie, her psychic powers are not a thing of mystery. She claims to have fallen in league with forces not of this earth, and clearly used them in this situation to curry favor with the cribbage gods. Well, this is a tactic that shall not go unnoticed. I cannot be held accountable for losses while under the effects of some black magick spell. Therefore, I declare her victory null and void until such time as she can be proven to beat me without skills against which I could only prevail if Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy could keep a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from dying or being turned into something unspeakable for longer than a year. Seriously.
END TRANSMISSION...
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Sha Na Na Na Na Na Na
You get to be happy. (listening to: "The Schmuel Song" by Jason Robert Brown)
You know what's nice? Being ASKED to audition. Last night, a director for a theatre company saw a staged reading of a show I was in and asked Natalie to tell me to audition for her show. That's NICE. That's how things SHOULD be. And when you get to go out to dinner after that... well... icing. (Even if we did nearly get kicked out of the restaurant for destruction of property)
I was reviewed at work today. I won't be getting my promotion until July/August. This was somewhat expected, but... I told myself that if it didn't happen in April, I'd be looking elsewhere for work. Maybe I need to do that. I won't, because I'm a coward, but I think that I should. Maybe it's time. I don't know.
Oh. Here's something I want to talk to you all about. Look, I don't own any grown-up clothes. I don't have a suit, and I own two ties. One of which, I hate. I own lots of clothes, but none of them would work if I wanted to go "somewhere nice." I have ONE outfit that I can wear that's like that, and I wear it all the time. Someone should tell me how to be a grown-up. I'm 25 now. It's time to start acting like it.
So, I have a bone to pick with EA. The PS3 is set up such that when you turn it on, you have to choose a user ID to "log in" with. Each user ID can have its own parental settings and stuff, so this makes it really good for a family or like a dorm. Specifically this is nice because each user ID has its own save game data. Orion or NCSz or Biggy can't jump into my save games and lead my characters into certain demise. Nor can they play through a particularly entertaining part of the game while I'm gone. (Kingdom Hearts, Biggy?) Every user ID is on their own.
However, this becomes problematic when users want to play AGAINST each other. Tiger Woods 2007, for example, earns the Madjai Raspberry award for stupidity. I've set up my own golfer in my user ID. NCSz sets up HIS own golfer under his user ID. We go to play against each other (Or rather, we start a game wherein he will be embarrassed and humiliated for 18 holes), and guess what. We can't see my golfer, 'cause we're logged in under HIS user ID. No problem. We'll just log into mine, copy the data into his, and we're off and running.
Menu, Menu, Menu, Copy.
"Error: File will not be copied. There is already a file with that name in the target folder." ... Thefuckyousay?
EA sports, in their brilliance, has decided to name their user data "User Data." No, I'm not kidding. The title of the data file is "User Data." You dumb shits. No one tested this before you shipped this game, did they? NCSz had to start all over again.
I'd launch into a rant about unique file names right now, but that would make this blog even MORE boring. Seriously, please get your shit together before you ship a game. That's all. Moving on.
EDIT: I just found out that I'm playing a Comedy Sportz show for the Minnesota Timberwolves. The professional basketball team. They've hired CSz to do a show for their fundraiser or some such, and I'm playing it. :) KG and I are going to become BFF, and we're going to have sleepovers and shave each other's heads and talk about boys. It's going to be awesome, and you're all jealous. Ah HA!
What else do I have? Week 1 is over, and I passed the test. But just barely.
Sports Night is awesome.
My cat plays fetch.
I hate my job.
I have a big smile on my face despite all of the above.
END TRANSMISSION...
You know what's nice? Being ASKED to audition. Last night, a director for a theatre company saw a staged reading of a show I was in and asked Natalie to tell me to audition for her show. That's NICE. That's how things SHOULD be. And when you get to go out to dinner after that... well... icing. (Even if we did nearly get kicked out of the restaurant for destruction of property)
I was reviewed at work today. I won't be getting my promotion until July/August. This was somewhat expected, but... I told myself that if it didn't happen in April, I'd be looking elsewhere for work. Maybe I need to do that. I won't, because I'm a coward, but I think that I should. Maybe it's time. I don't know.
Oh. Here's something I want to talk to you all about. Look, I don't own any grown-up clothes. I don't have a suit, and I own two ties. One of which, I hate. I own lots of clothes, but none of them would work if I wanted to go "somewhere nice." I have ONE outfit that I can wear that's like that, and I wear it all the time. Someone should tell me how to be a grown-up. I'm 25 now. It's time to start acting like it.
So, I have a bone to pick with EA. The PS3 is set up such that when you turn it on, you have to choose a user ID to "log in" with. Each user ID can have its own parental settings and stuff, so this makes it really good for a family or like a dorm. Specifically this is nice because each user ID has its own save game data. Orion or NCSz or Biggy can't jump into my save games and lead my characters into certain demise. Nor can they play through a particularly entertaining part of the game while I'm gone. (Kingdom Hearts, Biggy?) Every user ID is on their own.
However, this becomes problematic when users want to play AGAINST each other. Tiger Woods 2007, for example, earns the Madjai Raspberry award for stupidity. I've set up my own golfer in my user ID. NCSz sets up HIS own golfer under his user ID. We go to play against each other (Or rather, we start a game wherein he will be embarrassed and humiliated for 18 holes), and guess what. We can't see my golfer, 'cause we're logged in under HIS user ID. No problem. We'll just log into mine, copy the data into his, and we're off and running.
Menu, Menu, Menu, Copy.
"Error: File will not be copied. There is already a file with that name in the target folder." ... Thefuckyousay?
EA sports, in their brilliance, has decided to name their user data "User Data." No, I'm not kidding. The title of the data file is "User Data." You dumb shits. No one tested this before you shipped this game, did they? NCSz had to start all over again.
I'd launch into a rant about unique file names right now, but that would make this blog even MORE boring. Seriously, please get your shit together before you ship a game. That's all. Moving on.
EDIT: I just found out that I'm playing a Comedy Sportz show for the Minnesota Timberwolves. The professional basketball team. They've hired CSz to do a show for their fundraiser or some such, and I'm playing it. :) KG and I are going to become BFF, and we're going to have sleepovers and shave each other's heads and talk about boys. It's going to be awesome, and you're all jealous. Ah HA!
What else do I have? Week 1 is over, and I passed the test. But just barely.
Sports Night is awesome.
My cat plays fetch.
I hate my job.
I have a big smile on my face despite all of the above.
END TRANSMISSION...
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Madjai : Jerkface :: Weather : Storm
It happens sometimes. (listening to: "One Of My Turns" by Pink Floyd)
So, apparently, I was a jackass on Saturday night. Jabas was supposed to stop me from being Mr. Starfish, but either I missed the signal or he was busy orchestrating some other complex play in the field. (Metaphors.. mixing...) In any event, my apologies to "IM", "JB", JB's roommate K, "Natalie" and "Dana." (as usual, all names changed to protect the innocent) I'm not that guy.
All My Sons is now all done. Thanks to all who came. It turned out to be a really good show, and I have the privilege of working with one of my fellow actors in that show again very soon, so that's only good times.
I was out last night with Natalie, and we were talking about old flame horror stories, and I told her the story of the Vu. When I got home last night, I had an e-mail from that girl. Which is TERRIBLY F-ING ODD, because I haven't talked to her in a few years. And there's an e-mail. Same night I talked about her. She's no longer doing illicit substances I assume, and she's found herself a serious boyfriend. So, chapter closed. Closure is nice. (Though, in this case... very strange.)
This is a rambling post with little information in it, and for that I apologize. I'm at work, which is busy and crappy today, and I'm looking forward to playing Virtua Tennis 3 when I get home tonight. Oh, and I had a fantastic night last night.
END TRANSMISSION...
So, apparently, I was a jackass on Saturday night. Jabas was supposed to stop me from being Mr. Starfish, but either I missed the signal or he was busy orchestrating some other complex play in the field. (Metaphors.. mixing...) In any event, my apologies to "IM", "JB", JB's roommate K, "Natalie" and "Dana." (as usual, all names changed to protect the innocent) I'm not that guy.
All My Sons is now all done. Thanks to all who came. It turned out to be a really good show, and I have the privilege of working with one of my fellow actors in that show again very soon, so that's only good times.
I was out last night with Natalie, and we were talking about old flame horror stories, and I told her the story of the Vu. When I got home last night, I had an e-mail from that girl. Which is TERRIBLY F-ING ODD, because I haven't talked to her in a few years. And there's an e-mail. Same night I talked about her. She's no longer doing illicit substances I assume, and she's found herself a serious boyfriend. So, chapter closed. Closure is nice. (Though, in this case... very strange.)
This is a rambling post with little information in it, and for that I apologize. I'm at work, which is busy and crappy today, and I'm looking forward to playing Virtua Tennis 3 when I get home tonight. Oh, and I had a fantastic night last night.
END TRANSMISSION...
Monday, March 12, 2007
Is Anyone Really Surprised?
I mean, seriously. (listening to: "She Blinded me with Science" by Thomas Dolby)
Recognize.
Other News:
Motorstorm for PS3 is not terrible. Point of fact, It's actually pretty good. I have a few gripes with it, but that's mostly due to me being bad at racing games. The load times are particularly atrocious, but a certain amount of that is to be expected. Loading long tracks in 1080i has got to be an ardurous task. The graphics are so good, in fact, I kinda wonder if the power of the processor is being harnessed to build a small, physical replica of our world somewhere in the 16" depth of my television. I wonder if I lean close enough to the back of my set, will I hear the cheers of the crowd?
Just a short one today, the revolution begins tomorrow.
END TRANSMISSION...
Recognize.
Other News:
Motorstorm for PS3 is not terrible. Point of fact, It's actually pretty good. I have a few gripes with it, but that's mostly due to me being bad at racing games. The load times are particularly atrocious, but a certain amount of that is to be expected. Loading long tracks in 1080i has got to be an ardurous task. The graphics are so good, in fact, I kinda wonder if the power of the processor is being harnessed to build a small, physical replica of our world somewhere in the 16" depth of my television. I wonder if I lean close enough to the back of my set, will I hear the cheers of the crowd?
Just a short one today, the revolution begins tomorrow.
END TRANSMISSION...
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
"Don't mess with the Bull, young man..."
You'll get the horns. (listening to: "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple Minds)
Recognize that movie quote? I know someone who doesn't. In a titanic grudge match last night, the rival of which hasn't been seen since the Monitor and the Merrimac traded blows, My roommate was cast down amongst the mortals while I was lifted from the throes of lesser beings onto Olympus itself. Perhaps you've heard of the game "Scene It?" It's a DVD board game about movie trivia. While I don't own THAT many movies (Halsey), and certainly much fewer than Nate, if you ask certain people, There are two things I'm good at, and movie quotes are the other one.
Still, Nate in his hubris decided to challenge me in this most holy of arenas. Admittedly, he soundly won the first game. However, the second game was mine in a last-second recognition of that stupid little dog from the movie Legally Blonde, and the final (much closer) game was won by knowing who's Oscar acceptance speech contained the oft-mocked phrase, "You like me! You really like me!"
[side note: I actually almost completely impressed my roommate on a prior question, which would have won the game outright. Given the movie, name the siblings in it. The first film was Grosse Pointe Blank. Easy - Cusacks. Next. The Fabulous Baker Boys. Took me a bit longer, but I finally remembered the other Bridges brother. Hit me for the last. Men at Work. Crap. A movie I haven't seen. Stupid Estevez and Sheen.]
Nate, I hereby offer you the comments section for your supplication. Appease the gods and renounce your superiority, and I may offer mercy. Rebuke this offer, and face the wrath of one who is better than you. The choice is yours. We await your decision.
END TRANSMISSION...
Recognize that movie quote? I know someone who doesn't. In a titanic grudge match last night, the rival of which hasn't been seen since the Monitor and the Merrimac traded blows, My roommate was cast down amongst the mortals while I was lifted from the throes of lesser beings onto Olympus itself. Perhaps you've heard of the game "Scene It?" It's a DVD board game about movie trivia. While I don't own THAT many movies (Halsey), and certainly much fewer than Nate, if you ask certain people, There are two things I'm good at, and movie quotes are the other one.
Still, Nate in his hubris decided to challenge me in this most holy of arenas. Admittedly, he soundly won the first game. However, the second game was mine in a last-second recognition of that stupid little dog from the movie Legally Blonde, and the final (much closer) game was won by knowing who's Oscar acceptance speech contained the oft-mocked phrase, "You like me! You really like me!"
[side note: I actually almost completely impressed my roommate on a prior question, which would have won the game outright. Given the movie, name the siblings in it. The first film was Grosse Pointe Blank. Easy - Cusacks. Next. The Fabulous Baker Boys. Took me a bit longer, but I finally remembered the other Bridges brother. Hit me for the last. Men at Work. Crap. A movie I haven't seen. Stupid Estevez and Sheen.]
Nate, I hereby offer you the comments section for your supplication. Appease the gods and renounce your superiority, and I may offer mercy. Rebuke this offer, and face the wrath of one who is better than you. The choice is yours. We await your decision.
END TRANSMISSION...
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Cell Phone Stolen
Hey all.
Today around 5:30pm my cell phone was stolen. It was turned off immediately after they took it, so I doubt they called anyone from it yet, but please be aware that I have no cell phone, nor do I have any of your numbers.
It was completely my fault, and I'm a huge idiot for putting myself in the situation in the first place, a fact made completely apparent to me by the police who took my report, so let's not get into it. It'll just end up with you saying, "Why did you do that?" And me retorting, "Because I'm an idiot." And neither one of us will feel better. In fact, I'll feel a whole lot worse.
I'll update here when I have a new chip and phone. Shouldn't be more than a day or two. In the meantime, please e-mail me your phone numbers. Please don't assume I know it already. I put it in my phone so I wouldn't have to remember it.
Thanks.
UPDATE: Apparently, T-Mobile has a policy wherein any charges incurred on my phone before I reported it stolen to THEM (read: NOT the police) are my responsibility. Even if it is a 142 minute call at $3.99/minute plus a bunch of games and ringtones equaling $700. Awesome.
UPDATE II: I have a new phone, same number. It's currently working, so feel free to call me now.
Today around 5:30pm my cell phone was stolen. It was turned off immediately after they took it, so I doubt they called anyone from it yet, but please be aware that I have no cell phone, nor do I have any of your numbers.
It was completely my fault, and I'm a huge idiot for putting myself in the situation in the first place, a fact made completely apparent to me by the police who took my report, so let's not get into it. It'll just end up with you saying, "Why did you do that?" And me retorting, "Because I'm an idiot." And neither one of us will feel better. In fact, I'll feel a whole lot worse.
I'll update here when I have a new chip and phone. Shouldn't be more than a day or two. In the meantime, please e-mail me your phone numbers. Please don't assume I know it already. I put it in my phone so I wouldn't have to remember it.
Thanks.
UPDATE: Apparently, T-Mobile has a policy wherein any charges incurred on my phone before I reported it stolen to THEM (read: NOT the police) are my responsibility. Even if it is a 142 minute call at $3.99/minute plus a bunch of games and ringtones equaling $700. Awesome.
UPDATE II: I have a new phone, same number. It's currently working, so feel free to call me now.
Monday, February 19, 2007
President's Day Pessimism
Seriously? Not a single dollar. Not one. (listening to: Our prior heads of state weeping in the afterlife because a grassroots organization to make the world a better place couldn't get motivated.)
Alright, so, maybe this blog ain't so great at fundraising. That's fine. I see how it is. No, No.. don't go back to the last post and give me some pity money. It's alright. I'll settle for driving the old and busted around. I didn't want the New Hotness anyway.
So, my show opens this week. This whole experience has been a real lesson in the question: "What is an actor?" Seriously, what is it that we do? From day one in all of our training, we have it drilled into our head that the director is the brains of the operation. All decisions both artistic and technical rest with them. And in the end, it's their show, sink or swim. But what do you do when you're being asked to do something that seems so counter-intuitive to the piece of work you're presenting? I mean, does the average theatergoer have the wherewithall to look at an actor doing something NOT interesting and say, "Wow... the director really screwed up this moment." HELLS no. They're going to say, "Man.. that actor just doesn't get it." And now *I* look bad.
Yes, I realize that this is fairly egocentric. Yes, I realize that the performance isn't about ME. But, dammit, there are certain things that are interesting, and certain things that are not. And I've been doing this for a while now, and I'm pretty sure my instincts are at least leaning towards correct. Basically, my question boils down to this: As an actor, do I give the director what they want, knowing that it will lead to a less-interesting show; or do I pretend that I just don't get what they want me to do, and play the actual arc of the script? Help. Help now.
In other news, I'm avoiding a topic purposefully. It's too soon. The memory still too raw. Anything I'd say wouldn't do it justice. I'm smoking a lot more lately. What kind of sense does that make?
Do me a favor. Tell someone who matters to you that you love them today. Even if it's just one person. Tell them so they know.
FOLLOW YOUR BLISS...
Alright, so, maybe this blog ain't so great at fundraising. That's fine. I see how it is. No, No.. don't go back to the last post and give me some pity money. It's alright. I'll settle for driving the old and busted around. I didn't want the New Hotness anyway.
So, my show opens this week. This whole experience has been a real lesson in the question: "What is an actor?" Seriously, what is it that we do? From day one in all of our training, we have it drilled into our head that the director is the brains of the operation. All decisions both artistic and technical rest with them. And in the end, it's their show, sink or swim. But what do you do when you're being asked to do something that seems so counter-intuitive to the piece of work you're presenting? I mean, does the average theatergoer have the wherewithall to look at an actor doing something NOT interesting and say, "Wow... the director really screwed up this moment." HELLS no. They're going to say, "Man.. that actor just doesn't get it." And now *I* look bad.
Yes, I realize that this is fairly egocentric. Yes, I realize that the performance isn't about ME. But, dammit, there are certain things that are interesting, and certain things that are not. And I've been doing this for a while now, and I'm pretty sure my instincts are at least leaning towards correct. Basically, my question boils down to this: As an actor, do I give the director what they want, knowing that it will lead to a less-interesting show; or do I pretend that I just don't get what they want me to do, and play the actual arc of the script? Help. Help now.
In other news, I'm avoiding a topic purposefully. It's too soon. The memory still too raw. Anything I'd say wouldn't do it justice. I'm smoking a lot more lately. What kind of sense does that make?
Do me a favor. Tell someone who matters to you that you love them today. Even if it's just one person. Tell them so they know.
FOLLOW YOUR BLISS...
Friday, February 09, 2007
Hey, Brother, Can You Spare A Dollar?
It's for a Good cause!! (listening to: Ghostbusters Theme)
So, Check This out.
That's right, folks. For only $150,000, I could be the proud owner of THE Ecto 1. Better than the Batmobile, cooler than KITT, it's THE choice ride for a young suburbanite. Please help me own this piece of Americana! Here's the deal. Below, there's a PayPal donation link. Click it, and help me out! But you don't just get the satisfaction of doing a good deed. Oh, no.. There is a sliding reward scale! Please note that as you ascend the donation ladder, you get all of the previous prizes, as well as the one at your level. Check it out:
$1 - $9 => A Thank You e-mail, personalized from me!
$10 - $99 => A coke (or other canned carbonated Beverage), hand-delivered from me and some lively conversation.
$100 - $999 => Pizza and Movie night. Clearly, we'll be watching Ghostbusters.
$1,000 - $9,999 => A ride around the city in Ecto 1. I'll even let you work the siren.
$10,000 - $99,999 => 1 day ownership of Ecto 1. You can drive it anywhere you like, tell people it's yours, whatever you want. Just as long as it comes back to me 24 hours later with a full tank of gas and no structural damage.
What are you waiting for!?! Hit the link, and let's do this together!
END TRANSMISSION...
So, Check This out.
That's right, folks. For only $150,000, I could be the proud owner of THE Ecto 1. Better than the Batmobile, cooler than KITT, it's THE choice ride for a young suburbanite. Please help me own this piece of Americana! Here's the deal. Below, there's a PayPal donation link. Click it, and help me out! But you don't just get the satisfaction of doing a good deed. Oh, no.. There is a sliding reward scale! Please note that as you ascend the donation ladder, you get all of the previous prizes, as well as the one at your level. Check it out:
$1 - $9 => A Thank You e-mail, personalized from me!
$10 - $99 => A coke (or other canned carbonated Beverage), hand-delivered from me and some lively conversation.
$100 - $999 => Pizza and Movie night. Clearly, we'll be watching Ghostbusters.
$1,000 - $9,999 => A ride around the city in Ecto 1. I'll even let you work the siren.
$10,000 - $99,999 => 1 day ownership of Ecto 1. You can drive it anywhere you like, tell people it's yours, whatever you want. Just as long as it comes back to me 24 hours later with a full tank of gas and no structural damage.
What are you waiting for!?! Hit the link, and let's do this together!
END TRANSMISSION...
Monday, January 29, 2007
Me With Other Guys' Girlfriends: CSz Edition
A photo montage not to be taken seriously. (listening to: The sound of the men of CSz wanting to punch me.)
K, Girlfriend of The Taint
Also named K, girlfriend of Hall-See
And this is JNL, girlfriend of Mustache Ranger #1
All these guys are good people, and each can punch me in the face one time. One thing, though: How come nobody told me that I have three chins when I smile? Seriously? What is wrong with me. Anyway, enjoy. Three beautiful ladies, Just one me. Wait... Make that four.
Oh, and I had to add this. This is Mike, doing BOTH Barbara Streisand AND Neil Diamond singing "You Don't Bring Me Flowers." It was... nothing shy of unbelievable. And check out that sweater...
END TRANSMISSION...
K, Girlfriend of The Taint
Also named K, girlfriend of Hall-See
And this is JNL, girlfriend of Mustache Ranger #1
All these guys are good people, and each can punch me in the face one time. One thing, though: How come nobody told me that I have three chins when I smile? Seriously? What is wrong with me. Anyway, enjoy. Three beautiful ladies, Just one me. Wait... Make that four.
Oh, and I had to add this. This is Mike, doing BOTH Barbara Streisand AND Neil Diamond singing "You Don't Bring Me Flowers." It was... nothing shy of unbelievable. And check out that sweater...
END TRANSMISSION...
Sunday, January 21, 2007
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!
"Well, it's kind of like a mix between hockey and soccer, only less people." (listening to: "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" by Pink Floyd)
So, Friday night was something I've been looking forward to for a little under a year now. A Minnesota Swarm game. Minnesota has a professional Lacrosse team. Yes, it's a professional league. They have uniforms and everything. It's easily one of the most exciting and entertaining sporting events I've ever been to. And I've been to them all. Four 15-minute quarters, 5-on-5 action. The game had everything I could have wanted it to have to turn Jabas and his date into fans. A high-scoring game, a "performance team" (basically cheerleaders with midriff-baring ensembles), and even a fight! If you have the means and the time, please go to one. My favorite part is the announcer- he's catty and openly mocks the other team throughout the entire game over the Xcel loudspeakers. Think Ryan Seacrest, only with a sports jersey and a MUCH better sense of humor.
Some Highlights of the evening:
* (After the Swarm draw first blood 17 seconds into the match) Announcer: "That's right folks, for those of you new to Swarm games, they score every 17 seconds. The final score of this game will be 485 to 0." (Yes, his math was wrong. Actual final score would be 211 - 0)
* A woman behind me: "My husband told me a little bit about this, but I can never remember how many quarters are in a game."
* (The jumbotron shows a member of the aforementioned "performance team" sitting next to a 15-year-old kid, who looks COMPLETELY uninterested in the entire thing) Audrey and I at the same time: "He's gay."
* They had a rock-paper-scissors competition at halftime. The fat guy in the stupid hat did NOT win. And he lost to a girl.
* (Audrey was completely disinterested in the entire game until the fight broke out, leaving one Swarm player with his jersey and pads around his neck, exposing his chest.) Audrey: "Yeah! Yeah! YEAH!! DO IT!! ... Oh My God.. that was the most homoerotic thing I've ever seen! That was AWESOME!"
And the best part of the evening was this guy:
He was completely soused by the middle of the 2nd quarter, and decided to cheer for the other team. This did not sit too well with the 2 DOZEN kids sitting in his section, and after every Swarm goal, they would RUN down to where he was sitting and YELL as loudly as they could whatever they could think of about how awesome the Swarm were. He was drunk and fought with them, and we all loved it. At one point, one of the kids took his hat off and ran away with it. He may or may not have gotten it back.
Final Score: Swarm- 11, Knighthawks- 10, Madjai- Infinity.
END TRANSMISSION
So, Friday night was something I've been looking forward to for a little under a year now. A Minnesota Swarm game. Minnesota has a professional Lacrosse team. Yes, it's a professional league. They have uniforms and everything. It's easily one of the most exciting and entertaining sporting events I've ever been to. And I've been to them all. Four 15-minute quarters, 5-on-5 action. The game had everything I could have wanted it to have to turn Jabas and his date into fans. A high-scoring game, a "performance team" (basically cheerleaders with midriff-baring ensembles), and even a fight! If you have the means and the time, please go to one. My favorite part is the announcer- he's catty and openly mocks the other team throughout the entire game over the Xcel loudspeakers. Think Ryan Seacrest, only with a sports jersey and a MUCH better sense of humor.
Some Highlights of the evening:
* (After the Swarm draw first blood 17 seconds into the match) Announcer: "That's right folks, for those of you new to Swarm games, they score every 17 seconds. The final score of this game will be 485 to 0." (Yes, his math was wrong. Actual final score would be 211 - 0)
* A woman behind me: "My husband told me a little bit about this, but I can never remember how many quarters are in a game."
* (The jumbotron shows a member of the aforementioned "performance team" sitting next to a 15-year-old kid, who looks COMPLETELY uninterested in the entire thing) Audrey and I at the same time: "He's gay."
* They had a rock-paper-scissors competition at halftime. The fat guy in the stupid hat did NOT win. And he lost to a girl.
* (Audrey was completely disinterested in the entire game until the fight broke out, leaving one Swarm player with his jersey and pads around his neck, exposing his chest.) Audrey: "Yeah! Yeah! YEAH!! DO IT!! ... Oh My God.. that was the most homoerotic thing I've ever seen! That was AWESOME!"
And the best part of the evening was this guy:
He was completely soused by the middle of the 2nd quarter, and decided to cheer for the other team. This did not sit too well with the 2 DOZEN kids sitting in his section, and after every Swarm goal, they would RUN down to where he was sitting and YELL as loudly as they could whatever they could think of about how awesome the Swarm were. He was drunk and fought with them, and we all loved it. At one point, one of the kids took his hat off and ran away with it. He may or may not have gotten it back.
Final Score: Swarm- 11, Knighthawks- 10, Madjai- Infinity.
END TRANSMISSION
Monday, January 08, 2007
Worst. Day. Ever.
What a horrible start to my work week. (listening to: Hope rushing out of my life like air into a vacuum)
I'll let this article speak for itself. And I swear I didn't edit that picture in MS Paint at all. (His horns are a little hard to see, but they're there)
House Costars Engaged
FRIDAY JANUARY 05, 2007 09:15 PM EST
By Julie Jordan
Actress Jennifer Morrison and actor Jesse Spencer, who costar on FOX's hit medical drama House, became engaged over the holidays in Paris, PEOPLE has learned.
Morrison, 27, who plays Dr. Allison Cameron, and Spencer, also 27, who portays Dr. Robert Chase, met while filming the pilot for the series, which debuted in 2004.
A rep for the couple says no wedding date has been set.
END TRANSMISSION... (and life)
EDIT: This is how it should be.
I'll let this article speak for itself. And I swear I didn't edit that picture in MS Paint at all. (His horns are a little hard to see, but they're there)
House Costars Engaged
FRIDAY JANUARY 05, 2007 09:15 PM EST
By Julie Jordan
Actress Jennifer Morrison and actor Jesse Spencer, who costar on FOX's hit medical drama House, became engaged over the holidays in Paris, PEOPLE has learned.
Morrison, 27, who plays Dr. Allison Cameron, and Spencer, also 27, who portays Dr. Robert Chase, met while filming the pilot for the series, which debuted in 2004.
A rep for the couple says no wedding date has been set.
END TRANSMISSION... (and life)
EDIT: This is how it should be.
Friday, January 05, 2007
New Show!!
Alright, Alright already!! You want a new post, here it is! (listening to: regret at auditioning for True West)
The Lakeshore Players
present:
All My Sons
Starring:
THE MADJAI as Chris Keller
So, as The Mousetrap ended a little more than two weeks ago, I got bored and went to another audition. This time, way up in White Bear Lake. (Those of you who live more than 20 minutes away from this frigid northland theatre are excused from attending this performance.) The script is FANTASTIC, and I managed to fool the director into thinking I can play a romantic lead! Ha Ha! Skinny character actor, FTW!
Anyway, the show dates are on the website (click above), as well as on My Website, so you have no reason to miss this one, unless you hate the drive. But really, I'm making it 5x a week, so to come once isn't unreasonable, is it? IS IT? No, I thought not.
PS- for those of you keeping score at home, if I can be allowed to ignore the fact that I auditioned for True West and didn't get called back, then this makes the 9th consecutive audition I've been cast in. If you're going to be a stickler for rules like The Rooster, then this is the second show in a new streak.
END TRANSMISSION.
The Lakeshore Players
present:
All My Sons
Starring:
THE MADJAI as Chris Keller
So, as The Mousetrap ended a little more than two weeks ago, I got bored and went to another audition. This time, way up in White Bear Lake. (Those of you who live more than 20 minutes away from this frigid northland theatre are excused from attending this performance.) The script is FANTASTIC, and I managed to fool the director into thinking I can play a romantic lead! Ha Ha! Skinny character actor, FTW!
Anyway, the show dates are on the website (click above), as well as on My Website, so you have no reason to miss this one, unless you hate the drive. But really, I'm making it 5x a week, so to come once isn't unreasonable, is it? IS IT? No, I thought not.
PS- for those of you keeping score at home, if I can be allowed to ignore the fact that I auditioned for True West and didn't get called back, then this makes the 9th consecutive audition I've been cast in. If you're going to be a stickler for rules like The Rooster, then this is the second show in a new streak.
END TRANSMISSION.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
