The Fear, Out Of Nowhere!

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On Thursday night, something weird finally happened. I finally realized that I was funked. As in stupidly funked, not like someone who has a mortgage, lost their job, and has a family to raise funked. I had been subconsciously ignoring the fact that I did not have an endless pit of money, coupled with the fact I did not work, plus there was no work to be found. I had also been ignoring the fact that in the past week I had spent close to $1700 on rent and a truck. For some reason, probably that the delayed reaction in my bank balance had finally gone through, I realized I was goosed for bobs. I had just wasted about half of my money on a bucket that was broken down and a bed that I couldn’t afford. Plus I realized that I needed to sort out my visa somehow. Which meant I would probably have to go to Mexico for a few days to renew the holiday visa. Which meant I would have to leave LA before the start of the 3rd week of March max to go to Mexico to try and renew my holiday visa. So it also sank in that I had paid all that money in rent for time I wouldn’t be here in LA for. So now I was stuck with a bucket that wouldn’t drive and a bed I wouldn’t be sleeping in. If you’re looking for investment advice, give me a call.

All along I was trying to convince myself that it wasn’t that bad. So what if I end up in LA with the bare minimum left of my money, no job, visa expired, and be an illegal alien. So what? No big deal. Sting managed to work his way out of it! At least Ill have a bed for the next 3 weeks. Plus, I can always go back home to…? Balls.

All of this hit me about 12.30 on Thursday night. Cue dizziness and cold sweats. I did not budget for this, b*****ks. Good God, I’m funked. Seriously. The light was going fast from the end of the tunnel.

At least I had gotten an offer for the Bucket earlier that day from a junkyard – they’d come and tow it away and give me $180 for it. My roommate said don’t do it, I’d get a better deal. I couldn’t see the light, accepted it. The guy was coming at 9 in the morning to pick me up and take it away. I really should’ve asked Robbie first if he would mind but the dizziness made me forget.

So after I have a great night’s sleep (wondering if I would even get a job at this stage back in Dublin or Cork when I had to go home, did I even really want a job related to my degree or masters, then thinking of being broke at home in Ireland) there was, somehow, a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. Firstly, the junkyard guy never showed up (postponed until Monday, the fool!). More importantly, I woke up fully aware I was funked. And it felt great. Not great as in it would feel if something good was to happen. But great as in the fact there was some sort of burden lifted off my shoulders. I think it was the burden of fooling myself.

It is far better to know and accept that you are screwed, rather than hope and think that you are not. At least now I could spend my time doing something to sort it out, rather than spend my time stressing about whether or not I was actually funked.

My internet was still not working so I have to go to the Coffee Bean to use the wireless. Amadeus is coming over singing The Who to me, asking me if my shoelaces are made from hemp, wrecking my head today. Give me a few hundred dollars to listen to you ramble on and we can be friends. He declines. I put two ads up on Craigslist. One laying out in exact details the story with the truck – how I bought it under false pretenses and got screwed, does anyone want to take it off my hands? The other ad is looking for someone to take over my rent for the rest of March.

Straight away I get offers for the Bucket. One guy rings, asking how much. I tell him make me an offer, I’m looking to get rid of it asap. So presuming he was about to say somewhere around the 200 dollar mark, he says something like “5 or 700?”. What the f**k??? I double check to make sure he’s read all the ad, $900 owing on registration etc. He has, karma is playing a role. As it stands I have three offers for 500, one for 400 and another guy with 350. The day before I was barely getting any offers for the Bucket, trying to sell it through rose tinted glasses, “Old but quirky” kind of stuff. I’ve probably cursed it now seeing as it hasn’t been sold yet, but at least it was a step in the right direction.

If I could sell the truck, find someone to take over for half the rent of the room for the last two weeks of March, fly to Mexico for cheap, come back and get another 3 month visa, win the green card lottery, win the normal lottery, be plucked out of the obscurity for a movie role without having to deal with the annoying cruise ship bound aspect of the acting business, and write that bloody episode for the Office thats keeping me awake at night, I’d be sorted. At least I might sleep better tonight knowing Im f**ked. For once, it actually is a good thing to know. Pretty weird.

I feel this has been a pretty crap post to read but its been a sobering old night and day. The only apt song I can think of is Float On by Modest Mouse.

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Not To Boast Or Anything, But I Have a Huge…

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That night I had another free audit of Aaron Speiser, just to see if he was the one I was going to go with, just to make sure, as he was the best so far, I decided I had better audit one more class for free, to make sure before I committed, which I would do next week. It worked, I can go again for free. The class starts about half an hour late, and when Aaron does arrive, he opens with this…”Sorry I’m late, sorry, sorry. The reason being, not to brag, its just the truth, I just saved a multi-million dollar movie from folding. I’m not saying it to impress you but thats the truth, millions of dollars would have been lost if I didn’t make a few calls. Gerard Butler, you know him right, from 300, isn’t he great, isn’t he really! He said he wouldn’t do the movie unless I go out and be on set the whole time and sort out the whole mess. What can I say, I’m a fire fighter, I’m not saying it to brag, but that’s how it is” Leaves out a deep breath and shrugs his shoulders apologetically, with immense modesty and finishes off with”And I have a huge, massive…” Well, maybe he didn’t say the last line but the rest was even a dumbed down version of the great work he’s doing. It was weird to see him physically pat himself on the back with his hand while he spoke but maybe he had the hiccups, who knows.

I thought maybe it was just the other class was a once-off where he spoke about him through all of it, but nay. “Would White Chicks not have been funnier if they did this or that? I told the Wayans to do that but they didn’t listen. They hired me for the whole movie and wouldn’t do it without me” All he needs now is his own blog and he’ll be up their with the rest of those annoying egotistical pricks, ha.

Lucky for me, I also picked a good seat next to a guy who loved to repeat jokes he had seen on a show on t.v the night before. And would forget the joke or situation half way through “Hang on, no, haha, it was so funny, what did he do again? He said, oh no, he actually said, or was it her that said it, haha, it was so funny, haha, wait ’til I tell you what she said, haha”. Shut the funk up and tell me the great joke on the t.v show I’ve never even heard of!!!! 

At least when Aaron Speiser gives tips, or forgets to talk about himself for a few minutes, he gives good advice. All pretty basic but he highlights it in the scene studies well…Don’t anticipate the lines – Sweat the details – Pick a role suited for you – Drop your inhibitions. He obviously develops these more for the specific scene but thats the jist. It was funny as well to hear the guy next to me critique a girl who did a scene putting on a terrible English accent(it was good) and then find out she was English(I knew it was good). It would appear to me as if the actors who are good seem to be sound, and the actors who are bad are the highly annoying, cruise ship all the way, ones. I’m obviously sound, ha.

Aaron Speiser knows a load about a load of small, small details – what happens when a girl wears high heels all day, body language for debating, what girls do when they bring a guy home…sweat the small details, it makes some difference!!!

Here’s a great song which I can no longer play in my house. It was on my first night, drinking with my roommates, playing songs on my iTunes, one of those…”This is a great song who sings it? Oh, I do, me and a few of my friends messing around” moments, I’m sure you know the one. And then they remember the next day and want you to sing it for them. It is savage though. Let it kick in and turn it up, funreal… You! Me! Dancing! by Los Campesinos.

Yes, That Is I, Where Do I Sign?

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Thursday started with a tough choice, deciding whether or not I’ll walk to the acting class an hour away that night or walk to 5-a-side in Rob’s house which was a 2 hour walk away(the texts say “Footie in Robs’?” so I’m in the click and call him Rob now too, ha). So, Aaron or Rob, tough call. I decided to go for a walk to clear my head and decide which walk to walk later that night. I walk to the Coffee Bean near me to see what weird head I would encounter up there today.

On a side note, Coffee Bean is the newer, cooler, more hip version of Starbucks it seems. When I first arrived, thinking I was cool and in the know, asked where the nearest Starbucks was, I was scoffed at, and told “I don’t know, Coffee Bean is way” better. I crumbled and now follow the cool, hip, posing flock of sheep there. So far I’ve had a few chats with an actor who I recognized from an episode of Friends, some chick who was in porn apparently, and good old Amadeus.

Amadeus was this guy from New York, mid 40’s maybe, dressed in purple pajamas, long curly hair, rotting teeth, New York accent, kind of reminded me of Gene Wilder now that I think about it and Googled his name, who I met one day and spoke to me for a good hour about the origins of my chain and the origins of hemp. He got very offended when I asked if he was the inspiration for the song below.

Apparently, he knew the chain I was wearing had been in my family for generations(it hasn’t) and was worth a lot of, lot of money(it’s not). He knew all this though. Then he started rambling and rambling on about hemp, and a book about the emperor wearing no clothes, and Amsterdam, and Jack Herer, and his friend putting up money for hemp, and his mystical Irish friends who outdated the Greek mythology, and when he was young, and put Ab Simpson to shame for rambling. All the time speaking in a mix of a Welsh/Jamaican accent, thinking it was an Irish one. He then starting talking about guys from The Who and Led Zeppelin like they were friends. I just presumed it was all complete horse s**t until he starts lashing out $100 tips to the guy cleaning his table. Usually the old nuts ask for money at the end of the ramblings so maybe this guy is different. Or lashing out fake bills. Who knows.

Anyways (his rambling has caught on), none of my coffee buddies are up there so I throw on the I-Pod. After a while I see two guys next to me looking at me a good bit. Turns out they were a gay couple but this is not another gay story!!! So one of them says something but I’m not sure if its to me as I have my I-Pod on and Im busy looking newer, cooler and more hip in Coffee Bean. So, as he is looking straight at me and saying something, I take off my earphones and hear him finish the sentence…”I just love basketball, so does my boyfriend.” What the funk do you say to that!!! I decide on a swift and easy response “Cool, that’s good”. Then he excitedly asks me if I could get him tickets to a game. Kind of a weird request, but no sorry, I can’t. “No problem, how about an autograph?” An autograph? Why? “Emmm, do you not play with the Lakers?” Cue a bit of awkwardness as I mull over spoofing that I am Kobe Bryant or telling him the truth that I don’t. This actually happened before as well in LAX but I didn’t have my spoofing hat on that time either. I have since checked out the Lakers roster and I presume they think that I’m Sun Yue from China. Or else Kobe Bryant. I kind of have the look of both so who knows, ha. You’ll be glad to know I’ve now bought the entire Lakers kit and wear it up there everyday in case it happens again. That is my cool, new, hip Coffee Bean story where I thought I was cool until I realized it was mistaken identity. At least they didn’t think I was Amadeus!