Monthly Archives: May 2009

Don’t I Know You…?

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Sometimes, it is true, it can pay to be lazy. And here is why it paid for me today. Woke up this morning, washed my face, brushed my teeth, combed my hair and proceeded on with my morning rituals. However, this morning I was too lazy to stand for the final part of the ritual, and instead sat down. This was key! As I sat down, my mind was allowed to wander off, and I ended up coming up with 3 full outlines for 3 episodes of the sitcom I am planning on writing next week. Which is more than my brain has offered in about the last week or two alone, so it was big. Thankfully, I had my notepad and pen handy, so now “Who’s Your Paddy?”, “Seeing Stars” and “Forgive Me Father” have been outlined! A mighty day!!! (If you have been reading the blog, you might be able to piece them together. If not, tut tut, get reading).

In case I have not made it too clear, seeing as every man needs my plan, I have a new plan. That is, go to San Francisco next week, stay with my cousin, get productive, and write my sitcom pilot at least. Then, come back to L.A, pilot in hand, and get at least a scene made to have a visual to accompany the reading material. A mighty plan that only took me about a week or two to finally decide on. I would be moving out of my current abode, but not to worry, I found a place two streets over from here that is good to go, wuu. And, BAFTA have been contacted, my link in there told me I am pending at the moment in my application, they want to see progress on the sitcom first. Which is more mighty motivation to get it down and good to go. 

All of this was sorted before lunch. However, lunch itself took a bit of a dip. As I was making a sandwich, a friend (kind of, LA kind anyways) called over for a while with her dog, to talk about random stuff, as she likes to sporadically do now and again. Perfect timing “Oooo, that looks nice, could you make me one?” I’m on the bread line, but couldn’t really say no to a slice or two of bread and some turkey, sure, no problem, my last two slices, I can’t say no now, you see I have at least two left, balls. “Oooo, put some of that on it. Oooo put a tomato on it too. Oooo and some of that, make it up big just like yours.” Which was fine, my sandwich was appealing looking, I couldn’t blame her. Well, fine until I gave it to her, she took a bite of it, then started rambling on, about God only knows what, and feeding the majority of the sandwich to her dog! I zoned out fully, just watching the dog mock me as he ate my bread and food, licking parts of it and then not eating it, just so no one else could eat it. Her dog could sense I am on the bread line, the way he was toying with my bread to the fullest, then spitting it out to rub it in. They will not be let in from now on, I will tell you that much!

After lunch, I manage to resume back to slowly but surely sorting stuff out. A friend who DJ’s and promotes wants me to make a demo to give to a new club that is opening in Hollywood (although I have already been there?) It would be savage to get that gig. Especially seeing as I am DJ’ing all of 3 weeks. Better make a savage demo! I was also informed that my gig on Thursday would be paid, pending. Pending it goes well. Otherwise, I will just be playing music and given a bar tab of maybe $100 – $150, for food or drink on the night. So, the first DJ stint I got, pays me through free gym membership, and the second one pays me, basically, with free booze. At least that anyways. Balances out well really I suppose. Half thinking of going to the local Trader Joe’s offering to DJ in exchange for food. I will be fully equipped in my bartering ways then – food, drink and gym!

I’ll finish up with a story of why it is sometimes better not to recognize someone out loud. And how it can be strange seeing someone outside of where they work. Earlier on I was in a supermarket near my house, re-stocking up on bread if my memory serves me right. Anyways, there are two queues, side by side. I am in one, dawdling away, swinging around, bored. I notice a girl in the queue next to me, and I recognize her face from somewhere, I know her. However, I have no clue from where, but the feeling I saw her on some night out starts to become apparent in my head. Still no clue where though, so I squint a bit more to dig deep and find the memory.

We’re almost parallel in the queues, I am trying not to gawk at her to remember, when I see she notices me too, and the look of her recognizing me dawns across her face. She turns away slightly, as if embarrassed, I look even more as I feel the swell of drunken flashbacks coming from somewhere but which then die down. We catch each others looks again, so I just ask her, sorry, don’t I know you from somewhere? She tells me “I’m not sure, you do look familiar though, where am you from?” The minute I say Ireland, I can see a look of knowledge sweep across her face, then she pulls back. This triggers me off, I know now! The, eh, dancing club at the top of my street!

Cue a bit of embarrassment by her, maybe she doesn’t know me actually, she now claims, maybe not. You do, I tell her, I met you on Saturday, you work in the club, don’t you? Yes, she does, that was it, what’s your name again, oh yeah, thats it! (Lets call her Jane). At this point Jane introduces me to her friend John, also in the queue (it was a long queue by the way, ha). So, my memories are flooding in, she says she does remember me now, didn’t she serve me a drink, yeah, that was it. My memory is flying at this stage, oh no you didn’t, I gave you a dance, thats how I know you! Your friend, or work mate, was the other girl who tried to drag me away! You do look a bit different now, however I suppose we are in a different climate and surroundings, you’re not in your work clothes this time, true true, and also the fact that I’m not the only one wearing clothes this time around.

My final memory was that she had given me her number, to call her some time. Reasons I didn’t were two fold – forgot she had even given me her number, and it is pointless getting numbers off girls here, as my past experiences have highlighted. However, I feel I should make an excuse for not texting, so I say sorry about that, I was going to text, but eh, I had a busy few days sitting on my toilet writing my sitcom. She gives me an inquisitive look, I didn’t give you my number kind of look, shut up look. I, on the other hand, think she doesn’t remember, remind her that she did give me her digits, telling me to text or call her some time.

At this point she makes it quite clear that she definitely didn’t give me her number, this was her boyfriend John, I must have gotten her mixed up with another girl. I look to the ceiling and quickly re-jog my memories, then cop on what she was telling me. Oh right. Well, no it was definitely you, but, eh, anyways, I’ll be off, nice seeing you again, good meeting you John, ciao ciao.

At least, once again, it proves my point, the point which I have been making from day one, and which we all know rings true every day. And that is… ehh… when you’re on the bread line, don’t literally give away your last two slices of bread.

Song of this fine day is… Woman (MSTRKRFT Remix) by Wolfmother

Decisions, Revelations & Confrontations

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Towards the end of last week, I had been running aimlessly around my head, like a headless chicken. It seems I like to have the storm well before the calm, letting stupid thoughts race senselessly through my head, and end up physically not doing too much, but mentally exhausting myself. And probably still not end up coming to a satisfactory conclusion to whatever conundrum was bothering me. It really is an excellent system I have put together for myself.

My conundrum was related to issues such as rent, what will I do with being so broke, visa issues, what will I do next on my quest, am I really doing enough to get where I want to be, where is it I actually do want to be, and so on and so forth. So I did what I usually do – ask everybody and anybody, who will listen long enough, for their advice, putting off making a decision as long as possible. I like to fool myself by thinking that if I ask everyone for their opinion, it is somehow a way of me being productive? With that in mind, I managed to get about an evenly matched amount of exactly opposite and differing advice. Again, an excellent system I have come up with.

Thankfully, I put the decision making process to the back of my mind and ended up having a great weekend. A few revelations were also, eh, revealed to me over the weekend. Such as, when talking to a girl in a bar, and her friend blatantly does not like you and wants you to leave, bringing up herpes, does not really help your cause “Look, I’m sorry, but for you, I’m like a case of herpes. No matter how much you try to get rid of me, I will keep on coming back.” It got a laugh, at least. Off me, in my head. Did not go down to well with the girl’s friend. Led me to believe she may have herpes, ha, only possible conclusion really for her not laughing.

Another revelation confirmed to me was that I start a new DJ job on Thursday, wuu huu, looks like it will be a paying one too, happy days. Not really the gym mix I am used to, however, it should be an easy remedy. My buddy suggested playing the originals of the remixes I play, and, it fits the bill to a tee, 4 hours is long but the healthy bar tab they are throwing in on top of the offer should help me pass away the time.

My mentor/writer friend also revealed a challenge he had for me. Not only should I go to San Francisco for a week or however long and write my sitcom pilot, I should also develop one 3-5 minute scene which would showcase the pilot. With this, I could come back to L.A, and try to use my connections with people I have met, i.e homeless guys and gay gym buddies, to try and get that one scene made. Then, not only would I have a pilot script in my hand for people to read, I would also have a scene for them to watch. Throw that scene up online, hopefully get feedback off people, with even more hope it might be good feedback, and I could have the ball rolling towards the sitcom. Some funking revelation or plan or whatever you want to call it!

Changing the pace, style and tone of the revelations, another was the fact that my buddy in the club at the top of my street, has not cut me loose on his friend’s list. This was found out last night while getting out of the taxi by my house with two buddies. To celebrate this, Jim suggested we should go inside, again, it took a lot to twist our arms. I decided to hold back on the priest line this time around, instead opting for… Oh, in Ireland, the guys dance for the strippers, so if you like, I’ll dance for you. Oddly, I was taken up on the offer a few times. And, even more oddly, I realized it is a great way to make strippers jealous, ha. “No, he is going to dance for me”… “Get away, he is dancing for me now, back off b**ch”. I stumbled onto something strange, where I ended up having two girls trying to drag me off in different directions, to dance for them? If only I could actually dance, ah, deary me (although in some circles, I am a mighty dancer!).

This weekend I have also being having an on-going confrontation with my toilet. A few more randomers than usually have been using it due to a couple of shindigs going on in my house. Today, it started to growl and gargle at me, like a gargoyle (? brutal, I know). Slowly but surely, it started to rise up like a phoenix, clamoring its way to the surface. Me, being at times a bit too smart it turns dumb, decided to just ignore it, the problem would fix itself. Finally, after I flushed the toilet in hope that that might fix it, then deciding maybe one more flush was all it needed, the toilet won our game of chicken and celebrated in unbridled joy, spilling out over the edges. My weekend was capped off wonderfully with one last dance involving a bin bag, my toilet and I, great fun had by all, knee deep and elbow deep in fun really.

Actually, no, that was not how my weekend finished. It actually ended with one last revelation. That being, when the girl who offered me the DJ’ing job in the bar texted me asking if I wanted to come down to the bar for a few free boozes, it may not be the best idea to have replied with the truth. Which was me telling her I couldn’t, I was too busy doing a dance with my toilet. And how I was up to my elbow in, eh, fun. Which obviously got lost in translation, and which I am still in the process of explaining to her exactly what I meant. And how it was not meant in an insulting way. And yes, I still do want to DJ on Thursday. All misunderstood from my honest text? What a load of… fun!

Three songs of the weekend that kind of sum up my weekend, yet, in another light, don’t really sum it up at all, ha… Get On Your Boots (Justice Remix) by U2

Number 2… Too Many Dicks On The Dance Floor by Flight of The Conchords (I couldn’t find the remix I have but anyways)

And finally, the third song of the weekend… After Laughter Comes Tears by Lykke Li ft El Perro Del Mar

Trainee Priest

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My last blogaruu post was published in an extremely hungover state. Since then, I have stayed in all day, mulling things over. You could say, I stayed in my head all day, but I won’t. A few mighty choices were made and also good guidance was received, I am pumped again! Flashbacks from last night have also been flooding back all day long, some quite funny, however, most of which would be unsuitable for the blog, no one wants to hear those stroies. All I will say though, is that you can get away with murder if you use the line “Sorry, I’m a trainee priest”. Immediately you are looked upon in a different light, and all is forgiven.

The origins of the line came about, I think, when I was trying to be nice to a girl who was not my type, and so to speak, I had to dodge a bullet. Normally, I might be nice and avoid the truth about me playing dumb to any rare advances, by telling the girl, sorry, I’m gay. A good line which has no comeback really in Ireland, no matter if she does or does not believe you. However, this line cannot be used in West Hollywood. If so, a girl will say, ok, no problem, and bring 3 or 4 gay friends over for you, not the desired outcome. So, instead “Sorry, I’m a priest, or a trainee one anyways” is used, sheer brilliance in my opinion. 

Last night I was unfortunate enough to get stuck as a wingman with a girl who had an immense dishwater personality. The conversation was brutal, not only could she not understand me, she wasn’t my type so it wasn’t worth the effort to explain what I said with her, the conversation was flowing, one way! Stuck for a few drinks, me talking to her plain expression, getting nothing in return. Every time I would try to engage a few words out of her by asking a question, all I got in return was her plain gaze looking at me, waiting for the question to come, not understanding my accent to realize I had already shouted at her, five times, “What did you say your name was again?”.

You know a conversation is not going well when a question like “So what way do you drive to work from your house? Do you take that street or this street? Oh yeah, good call, that street is way better” is asked in order to beat a few words out of someone. Just as I was about to ask what her car was like for miles per gallon (how bad is that?!!) I managed to stop myself, and stop the torture. I knew this was the nadir, enough was enough, I’m going for a stroll, this is horrific. Quick walk around the bar, not much going on, back to my buddy and the two girls, the job. 

By the way, I am a brutal wingman, as in horrendous, I can’t imagine anybody actually does like the role, playing second fiddle. Unless the girls are models, which happens 9 times out 10 I suppose. Sure. You end up talking to someone you don’t really want to talk to, and who probably doesn’t really want to talk to you either. It is a match made in heaven, lose-lose situation. Anyways, I get back to the group, and her friend kindly informs me, in front of everyone, that dull as dishwater really wants to make out with me, ha, her exact words. Eh, oh Jesus, no thank you, beep beep, is that my phone, who is texting me at this hour, hang on, I’ll be back. Another stroll to the bathroom and back again, to be told again by her friend the same thing, with dishwater just kind of nodding along solemnly, in a plain, boring, dull fashion, very enticing. 

Sorry, I can’t, I’m a priest, well almost one, just one more semester to go. Still though, I can’t really do it, pity too, it was an appealing proposition you threw out there. “Oh my Gawd, are you reelly?” My buddy chips in with a “Yeah, he is, can’t do it” and backs me up. Thinking about it now, the following reaction is probably why I used the line in the first place, ha, maybe not to turn down, but to turn up, so to speak. They love it, eyes are glistening, a real life priest, oh my Gawd. Balls, should’ve used the gay line. However, it does bring about a bit of humour at least… “So, are priests allowed to have sex?” It depends… “On what?” On what the girl looks like. Ha, she understood that and was not impressed.

To make a long story a few lines longer, it ends with the girl, somehow, suggesting we should hang out again, we should do this more, it was fun talking to you (??!!!) and holds out her phone. I pretend not to see it, so she asks for my number. A battle of wits ensue…”So what’s your number Merrick, I’ll call you” 4… “That is funny, what is it?” Just 4… “You are funny, no seriously”… Ok so, 44 “Seriously? Is that an Irish number? Do you have an American cell?” No, thats it, my Irish number, just call 4 or 44. 

Maybe it was this reaction that reminded me to use the line in the club at the top of my street later on last night. It can be used in numerous ways really, I would highly recommend it. Also quite useful for the next day, ha.

Moving on, I was probably better off staying at home all day. The one time I did go out I ended up insulting somebody. On my way to the shop I had no change for the homeless dude who is entertaining and worth every dollar I give him every few weeks. I’ll get you on the way back boss! Buy the food, looking forward to it, good song comes on my iPod, happy days. Walking home, I see a different homeless guy sitting down by a wall near the shop. He motions towards me, I sing him a few lyrics of the song I am listening to, and kindly give him a dollar. Strange, he doesn’t seem too happy with that, stands up, how ungrateful is he, I’ll stick with the usual homeless guy from now on, and I keep on walking. I can hear him shouting now at me, and walking after me. I gave you a dollar buddy, its all I can afford! I take out my earphones, and realize the mistake I had made. Re de de.

Turns out that the homeless guy was not asking me for money, but instead asking me for a light for his cigarette. And it also turned out that he was not in fact homeless, he was just a normal guy sitting down against a wall waiting for the bus. Oh right. Sorry about that boss, no offence intended, the scruffy look is in! At least I got the dollar back too, wuu huu.

Song of the day… Underdog by Kasabian

I’m So Happy!!! Believe Me!!!

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Yesterday a few big decisions were decided upon and finalized. I think. No, they were. I’m stupidly indecisive so they were probably decided upon. Not fully sure yet. First one involves me moving out of my current abode next week, on Wednesday I think, time to fly the roster and all that. My roommates extended the stay an extra month to hook me up, so I knew it was going to happen. Not to worry, last night I was offered a place near here, short term, perfecto, and not with a nut like some of the other offers. I’m so happy!

However, I think I might head up to San Francisco for a few weeks, save some money (although how do you save nothing?) and get my pilot and stuff written, that is why I came here after all! Still not fully decided though, ha, so I will keep you posted. I’m so happy!

Jim in the gym also rang me yesterday, with some good news. I think, not sure really. He told me that there was good feedback from the last few times I DJ’ed, re de de, and a few guys who owned bars and clubs were interested in giving me a job, did I mind him giving them my number? I enquired if it would be for payment or pro bono like all my other work, and he said there would be payment. Sounds good, work away Jim! Looking back at it now though, I should really have clarified what kind of jobs Jim was on about, and what kind of payment too. Hopefully he meant a DJ job, and cash payment. Not too sure though with Jim and that gym, I’ll have to wait and see. Also remembered the fact that I had decided to head to San Fran next week for a while, perfect timing. I’m so happy!

Last night I was then offered another DJ’ing job, or a trial run at least, in a bar close to my house, Barney’s Beanery. This place gets fairly packed, I’m not the biggest fan of it to be honest, but always full and it could be good. Ironically, on my second day in L.A, I actually traipsed along to this place for an open interview, bar tending I think. Interview took a nose dive when social security number was mentioned and that was the end of that. The manager last night, who offered me the job (after I told her she should hire a DJ because the music was boring, ha) was the girl who interviewed me the first time around and said no thanks. A friend I was in there boozing with knew her, she started to horse booze into us, and a job was put on the table for me, a far better way than the formal interview rejection! I’m so happy!!!

Again, as it was the only place open after 2, we ended up in the “club” at the top of my street with my buddy. Usual line for the girls working… Sorry, I can’t take a dance off you, I’m an Irish priest, we’re not allowed. One girl turned out to be an evangelist, and gave me a rant and a sermon, trying to change my religion, it all got very weird. My buddy then informed me he thought that they were calling my name to go up on stage, wuu, not sure why but I’ll do it, up on stage I go to sit on a chair especially put out. About 10 girls start to pour out the wings to give me a dance. Not really sure what is going on, but I’ll go with the flow, the spotlight is on me after all. Then the announcer tells everyone to give me a clap, the girls are dancing for me because I’m getting married tomorrow! Wuu, am I? I’m too drunk to notice. “C’mon folks, give it up for Mike, his last night as a single man!” Eh, Mike or Mark? Mike or a drunk fool? The way my bouncer buddy (maybe ex-buddy now) big Jim came up on stage and dragged me off, led me to believe that maybe it was a Mike that they were calling up, and not Mark. Oh yeah, sorry Jim, I forgot I’m not actually getting married tomorrow, that bit did throw me off… Won’t be going back there for a while. I’m so happy!!!

If you’re wondering what the whole “I’m so happy” bits are about, it is to do with people in L.A continuously telling me that they are happy. I don’t mind if I ask them, but when they tell me without me asking, or just spring it on me, then convince me to why they are happy, seriously, I am, believe me… I find it odd. Yesterday alone it happened twice. One random girl on the street who I have never met before, and was talking to her about the fires in Santa Barbara, decided to interrupt my terrific story, to tell me how happy she was, “I’m so happy that today is today, aren’t you happy too, I’m so happy I moved to LA, I’m so happy we had this chat today, I’m so happy that I got to meet you, I am happy that you are you!” I still can’t figure out if she thought I was really happy and tried to out-do me, or thought I might be unhappy and wanted to rub her fake happiness in. It was highly strange, I had no response to all the happy words. I’m so happy!

Finally, last night I got a random text from a girl who I have not spoken to in a while. At 2 in the morning, without me texting her first, she texts me asking what am I up to? Normal enough. However the rest of the long text was about how she’s so happy with life at the moment, all this great stuff looks like it will be happening for her soon, happy happy happiness, rar diddy rar. I texted her back that I was so happy too, how fun it is on the bread line, great news that the visa is running out, did I tell you my sitcom has yet to be written, never mind made? I’m so happy!

Obviously, she did not get my brilliant sarcasm or joke, and replied with “I thought you’d be happy for me?” Ha, ape, sweet Lord, I wouldn’t mind if she was a buddy, but I don’t have the will to be happy for people I don’t really know! I better not name her, on the off chance she reads this and gets annoyed. Actually, come to think of it, her name is Carolina. If she does actually read this, happy days, she can’t be happy with that!

Song of the day is Young Adult Friction by The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart

Man Boobs & Double Chins…

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No sign of the nervous breakdown today, thankfully, but instead two funny incidents. On my way to the post office to post a few odd items back to Ireland, I saw two girls struggling to lift suitcases into their car. Being so nice and all, I stopped and asked them if they would like a hand. They were really struggling so offering was the least I could do. Nothing to do with the fact that they were good looking. At a push I would say very. Honestly, they were hot. Anyways, they were delighted I had offered, hopefully I could squeeze them in. The suitcases into the car, obviously, although I can’t think of another meaning for that sentence but seems like it should have an innuendo in there somewhere.

While I am struggling with the beast of a suitcase, I ask where they’re from… “Florida, we’re here visiting” They pick up I have an accent, where am I from, what am I doing here. I’m Irish, here trying some writing and acting plus a bit of stand-up and DJ’ing on the side, just saying it as it was, I was too busy with the suitcase to notice. “Oh my gawd, it was so nice of you to help us, can we get a photo, this is so cool?” I have seen people going nuts before for the Irish factor alone, but usually that is in little towns around California where they don’t usually get people from outside the State. Era shur, I would be delighted to take a photo with ye, cheeeeese. 

A photo is taken with each girl (brutal with names so can’t remember either). As Girl A looks at the photos, Girl B asks me when my next movie is coming out, this is so cooool!!! Eh, my next movie? I’ll let you know when the first one comes out. This is responded with a puzzled look. Girl A doesn’t like the photo with her, she’s deleting it, can I take one more with her? Sure, eh, why not, give me a look. As I take off my sunglasses to look at the photo, Girl B, who inquired about the movie, peers at me. Hang on, wait for it, there we go, a familiar look of disappointment starts to appear on her face. Once again, I would have gotten a better reaction taking off my t-shirt and revealing a set of man boobs, she is that unimpressed.

Girl B asks “Are you not that Irish actor, the one in the movies?” Girl A tells me she has deleted the photo and wants to take another one. I respond to Girl B with which actor are you on about, who do you think I am? Girl A and B are now looking at me in a different light, realizing, seeing as my sunglasses are off, that maybe they no longer think that the recognize me. “I can’t remember your name! Are you not that Irish actor, in the movies, you have a radio show too?” I presume they have not heard my brief appearances on radio shows back in Cork, and I can’t remember being in any movies, so I tell them I think they have the wrong Irish guy. 

They are not impressed, and seem like I have let them down, ruined the last part of their holiday. Should I apologize for stopping and helping them? Should I apologize for being Irish? Girl B tells Girl A to delete her photo too, it doesn’t matter now, and thanks me for helping them with the bags. We have a bit of an awkward silence, I break it by asking them for my tip for helping them with their luggage, they laugh, I jokingly say I wasn’t joking, awkward silence gets louder and I am on my way. Cheers girls, thanks for the burn, send me on those photos. Whures. I am going to grow a pair of man boobs for L.A, to gauge which reaction is worse from now on.

Earlier tonight I headed up to the gym. Strangely I was not feeling too chumpy about going twice in one day, seeing as I had DJ’ed earlier on today. I think it may be because I had gotten good feedback on the spot today, even asked for a few CD’s made. They were extremely puzzled and confused when I told them we still only used tapes back in Ireland, so that was the best I could do. Tonight, while I am at the shop buying a Red Bull, bizarrely, not really for the gym but for me in the gym, a hot girl comes up to me. She was in there earlier today, really liked the Journey remix I had played (it is mighty!).

Mucho gracias, how come you’re back here again tonight if you were here earlier, are you a chump like myself?!!! Her friend had lost her iPod here earlier she thinks, just came back with her to check. She then went on to tell me that her friend was having the worst day ever, lost the iPod, didn’t get a part in a movie she was going for, and her cat was sick. Sounded like a regular old day to me really. Again, me being nice, and as I had used the joke earlier today so was still fresh in my head, told the girl to tell her friend… Not to worry, tell her keep those chins up. Ha, I thought it was funnier earlier when I used it first time around, but I suppose I did know that girl.

However, I had never seen this girl’s friend, what she looked like, or knew who she was, no clue. The girl didn’t recognize this though, and got very offended. “Did you just say chins? As in plural?” Eh, yeah, chins, it was a joke… “What kind of joke is that? My friend is having such a bad day and you make that kind of joke? What an a-hole you are, complete a-hole”. I thought she over-reacted, a lot, until her friend came along saying there was no sign of her iPod. Then I saw why I should not have made the joke, I’ll say no more. How was I to know though, I had never seen her before in my life?!!! I personally thought the girl was quite rude herself for not saying goodbye as she stormed off, I will not be playing Journey for her next time!

(Maybe I will actually, she was pretty good looking).

Unfortunately there’s no Youtube video for the Journey remix I have, so song of the day is this remix instead… Enter Sandman (Herve Remix) by Metallica

Breakdown or Breakthrough?

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I am a tad worried. Today has been my second bad day in a row. Not entirely sure as to why, but usually I might have one, then plough on through it and be fine again. Two in a row leads me to believe that a third one tomorrow, could lead me to having a nervous breakdown, it is unchartered territory that I would be heading into, oh dear Lord.

Being honest, I am not entirely sure why the bugging/fed up/annoyed feeling is coming on all of a sudden. It might have something to do with small things building up, slowly but surely. For example, my iPod froze today out of the blue and has yet to unfreeze. That got my eye twitching and had me counting to ten for a good few bouts of ten seconds. Or the fact that it seems to me that I am the only person in my house who knows where to empty all the bins when they fill up, or that bins even have to be dumped when they are full to the brim. But that is maybe just me being picky. Maybe, for some reason today, the number of blog readers dipped and this annoyed me? Who knows? All trivial. 

However, I don’t think that was it today. Perhaps it has to do with me getting little sleep the past few days. I have it well highlighted and documented within this blog, of how my brain does not seem to work, or want to work for me anyways, during the day. Instead, the past few nights, it has taken up the nightshift, kicking into overdrive the minute I turn off the light and try to go to sleep. A flood of ideas for stand-up, scenes for the sitcom, songs to try out for DJ’ing, and potential websites have being coming to me in the past few nights. Unfortunately, I have taken to writing down every one, just in case one of them could seems good again when I wake up the next morning. In the light of day, meh, perhaps and ehh are my reactions at best, so far. Some sort of compromise will have to be agreed between my brain and I, us working different shifts and seemingly against each other will put an end to the relationship soon.

This morning I got about 10.30, shattered, but determined to be productive throughout the day after the bad day I had (or think I had anyways) yesterday. I made out my daily to-do list, and this is what set me off on the wrong note, I think. This was my actual list for the day…

1. Make out DJ playlist

2. Watch Champions League

3. DJ in the gym (it’s been a while, needed to keep the free buzz tipping over)

4. Do stand-up show

5. Buy birthday card for my Grandad

6. Go to the gym

7. Write the blog

8. Sleep

After re-reading this list, I got highly annoyed. Would you not? To me it was a fine to-do list you might have for a Saturday, or a day-off. However, not really a great one when you’re in L.A on a mission, not a Tuesday-I-must-be-productive to-do list. It is a list of hobbies, the only productive thing really is sending the birthday card home. The rest do not include me working in exchange for money, writing my sitcom pilot, or improving my acting. They are simply a list of things I could do to pass away the day. My view today in my grumpy mood anyways.

Got through the first two things fine, I didn’t really need my brain for them. I then realize I couldn’t squeeze in the actual DJ’ing in the gym part due to a lack of time. Thats ok, it’ll give me more time to get ready for the stand-up. However, my brain takes a nap, and I decide last minute that some toast would be nice before I head off. Already slightly behind schedule somehow, even though I had given myself two extra hours? Then I almost burn my hands on my George Foreman while waiting impatiently for the toast, which I can’t wait for, and end up running down the road with warm bread in my hands. I am sprinting to make the stand-up at this stage, I can’t be late and miss the signing up part.

As I belt across the street to the comedy club, warm bread in hand, shouting and waving the bread at cars to get them to stop and let me cross, it hits me that I have seen people, supposedly crazy, doing this sort of thing around L.A, and particularly in San Francisco. Am I losing my mind? No, no, it’s just an off day, I convince myself. I get to the club, and there is a swarm of people outside, the door is closed, place has yet to open, I made it on time! So I sit down outside the club, and enjoy my warm bread, waiting for the door to open so I can head inside and sign up.

When the door does open, I realize that the person coming out has a sheet of white paper… the list of who has been chosen to go up! The reason everyone was outside was that inside was so packed, it had been open all along, I had just wasted my opportunity by staying outside eating my horrible plain warm bread. Gutted, I head in, decide I’ll try to look for the manager from last week who said he would hook me up with a better time, presuming I would at least have signed up. Found him, gave him my spiel about running late, so sorry, I will be going home to Ireland next week, any hope of getting up one last time? Ok, he said, he’ll put me on first before people notice that I am not on the list, be ready.

I barely had time to get nervous, it was about a minute before I was good to go on. There were a few faces I recognized in the crowd, maybe from their photos being on the wall, but this could be a chance at a breakthrough! Time to focus, whereas last week I was just pumped to go up and in a great mood, today, however, my head was all over the place so needed to get back on track. Name gets called, big enough crowd (as in maybe 50 other comedians? big for my second time) and up I go. Being honest, I get a few cheap, easy laughs to begin – thanks for all coming to see just me, I’m Irish, then more hooting and clapping when I told a white lie and said it was my first time ever doing it (my second time didn’t have the same ring). After that, some jokes were misunderstood and not laughed at, other parts which weren’t meant to be jokes got laughs for some reason, and when I heard one person saying “That’s funny” instead of laughing, I got good mileage out of mocking the comment. 

That was the first two minutes anyways, which flew by, I used up what I had thought would be about 10 minutes of gold, ha, no it was not. I told a joke that turned into more of a rant, and made up a new punch line on the spot when the first one wasn’t recognized, it got a whimper. Finally I finished up with a quick one liner joke, and walked off stage. It was only about half an hour later that I realized the reason nobody had laughed at the joke, or heckled me for it being so bad, was that I had forgotten to give the punch line. I think I said it in my head, then my brain took a quick nap, and it forgot to come out. Mighty work. 

Overall, I could take bits away from the material, and leave the rest of it on stage. When I went up to the manager to thank him for hooking me up, and then to tell him I would see him next week, he cut me off right in the middle of my sentence, right at the “and then” part above. This is when he said “No problem, have a safe trip home, enjoy the next few months back in Ireland.” Balls, my spiel beforehand to ensure I got on had come back to haunt me, so soon! Eh, cheers man, I’ll see you when I’m back, in a few months, just like I said.

At least it’ll give me time to work on material for the next time I come back to this club! After the elation of the stand-up debut, I could tell from my act this week, what parts exactly need a lot more work. Some of the jokes I tried to tell, were ones which needed a lot of background info, situation and location knowledge, or prior reading of the blog to get the laughs which I desire. I shall have to fine tune them, a lot. Still though, the guy I thought was the funniest of the show came up to me afterwards for a high five, wuu.

Numbers 5 and 6 on the list were going to be put off until tomorrow but I managed to get them in tonight. Only number 8 to do now, and I will have had a productive day, list wise at least. Although it is a big holiday here tonight, and the place is rocking! Cinco de Mayo, never really heard of it (my last stand-up joke was related to the name, I’ll save you heckling material, horrendous). I decided I will stay in though, have a quiet one with my brain. We have a few bridges to build. If we don’t, expect a few more bread and traffic stories.

Earlier today I had a break through, mentally at least, I think I know now what I must do next. I’ll see if I still think it tomorrow. Song of the day, not the easy option of a Doors song but… Until We Bleed by Kleerup with Lykke Li