I think I'm gonna like it here!

Imagine me singing that as butlers dance around me.

I like my new job. Its a lot like my old one. In fact, I started stressing about ass-hat customers again. The real benefit, in short, is the people. Let me put it this way.

The manager addresses the employees, says "It seems the other people in the building think my employees are all weird. I want to encourage this, so I think when anyone uses the elevator, you should press our floor, turn your body, and stare at a wall until you reach your destination"

....I'm in love.


It really hit me how bad the last place was when the trainee told me if I'm having a hard time to ask for input, or advice. At the last place, doing such a thing was regarded as an excuse. Trying to save face instead of producing. bunch of pricks.

I am of course stressed a bit about money, keeping my job, finding an apartment that doesnt suck, having time to audition and rehearse and perform, take classes, etc. But I love this town a little bit. I feel like the grand adventure has begun. All further problems and complications are just new challenges to conquer.

And conquer it, I will.....

...The Rain in Spain stays mainly in the Plain.

You’re gonna meet some creepy people there

So here we are on day 3 of the Great Cali Excursion. While today and yesterday contained far fewer auditions than I would have liked, I learned (from the horses mouth) how a non-union actor should approach an Equity audition. Now I know, and Hasbro toys has something to say about that.

I am less than two days away from registering with an extras casting agency, the work they can give me will allow me to learn my way around a TV/Film shoot. Tomorrow I audition for yet another production of My Fair Lady. The show repulses me, so many problems. But it’d pay. And I’m a kickass singer, and the dancing in the show is light, and my English accent, while still pure unrefined BS, is at least fresh.

My time in the Hostel, while far less painful than the movie may suggest, has reintroduced me to some of the fun and games Dorms once offered.

Men are idiots.

These guys watch ESPN endlessly, making me wonder what schmuck is asleep at the wheel that steers that network. One of the guys is real special though. He is flat out awful. He loudly giggles like a madman at the movies on HBO. He watches this foolish mess of an 80’s beachbum movie, about a beer swilling bum who owns a Bikini shop, and his straitlaced brother who moves in with him, to the chagrin of his spoiled, rich-girl fiancée. During the gratuitous parades of Bikini clad (and unclad) beauties, he touched the TV screen, saying “Baaaaby! Oh Baby!”

“Where are you from” he asks me
“Vegas” I say
“Yeah? Whats it like out there?”
“Ok. Its hot.”
“Lotta women out there?”
“I dunno”

I hope this man dies in his sleep

“How long are you staying here?” he asks
“About a week”
“Oh. I thought you’d be staying here long”

I hope I die in my sleep.

It makes me wonder though. Consider the legitimate genre in film, that of the stoner/sex comedy, the low brow. American pie, National Lampoon, Apatow, etc. often gross, rarely clever. Still, its there. And this miscreant slug is the target audience. I never realized that I may often sell my wares to people I would not like if we met. Their money is as good as anyone’s, right? Who should I please? The critics? The Masses?

Andy Kaufman whispers in my ear, and says “Work to please yourself.” Well said, Mr. Clifton.

I went out to Venice beach, my first major confrontation with LA’s Freeways. I got sand between my toes, walked down the blacktop and looked out to the Pacific, waded out into the water, crashed with the waves, Swam, floated for a while, and let all the built up heat of this summer, of Vegas out into the sea, where it bled into nothing. Through a pair of 10 dollar sunglasses I watched the red sun set on the American continent, on its way out to Japan I guess.

I got hopelessly lost on my way back, and briefly entertained fears that I would stumble into Compton and be summarily executed. I found an onramp leading the right way, and lost my fear in the beauty of the passing skyscrapers, lit against the now darkened sky.

I come “home” and find my bed, Made before my departure, ruffled. The adventure continues!

I moved up the schedule on my trek out to the land of the sun, out to LA. Disney and employment beckons. I need a job, but more so I need some job I can be happy with, proud of.

Feeling woefully unprepared, somehow certain I’ve forgotten something, I set out with a bag of toiletries, my computer, 7 changes of clothes and a swimsuit, as well as a cooler full of food kifed from the fridge and foodstorage. Somehow I feel equipped and well loved by the simple, delicious fruits, bread, and crackers in that case. In it lie the well-wishes of my Dad and Stepmom.

I loaded the audiobook (pirated with glee) of “The Stand” on my Ipod, and piped it through the stereo as I drove. 5 hours of driving. 10 chapters. Stephen King likes the sound of his own voice. Incidentally, I kinda like his voice too. Ah well. As I pull into the outskirts of the massive metropolis, into the belly of the beast that intimidates so on the map, the text turns to focus on Mother Abigail, an ancient, but determined, simple, and faith-driven woman who constantly drops wisdom I can draw strength from. Her faith in God inspires and informs mine.

And though my Car is getting as flimsy and error prone as the 108 year old womans body, I made the journey. Though I had no internet, some basic directions pulled up on my computer with its dying battery, and my phone dying slowly as well, I not only find my intended hostel, but when they denied me admittance until the morning, I found a motel nearby. 3 times the price of the hostel, but a good place to crash until tomorrow’s Disney audition.

God took care of me tonight. I felt his simple, kind care in the providence that surrounds me, the calm quiet neighborhood I have landed in. That an extended, lonely journey to the land of Crips and Bloods has started on a high note, and will end with success, even if it is only to return home with knowledge and experience, and renewed conviction.

Sadly the motel doesn’t seem to have anything worth watching. Just Chinese channels and Evangelicals. Ah well. Goodnight neverland!