Category Archives: Random Ramblings

Labour

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Last week I started to wonder if I was spreading myself too thin, and not focusing enough on one specific area. Acting, it seems, is on the back burner big time. That’ll come, in my own head at least. This week I have 4 gigs, 3 DJ and 1 stand-up. These take a bit of time to prepare for, so I was wondering if I was taking on too much, trying to do all the re-writes, new stuff, visa issues and all that, at the same time. Plus there was all the usual daily stuff  – sleeping, eating, gyming, blogging etc. I was purely making up excuses for myself though. Not only was this going against my L.A mantra  of “Many fingers in many pies” kind of thing, but it is mostly just me not utilizing my time as efficiently as I should. Today, is a prime example!

I mentioned yesterday that I have started to give birth to the first proper re-write of the sitcom episode which I am working on. Proper re-write since I got feedback from different sources and asked to make changes. However, even though I said I was pushing hard for the creative spark to ignite, and thought I saw the head coming out, it has become apparent that it might be a long labour. A long, arduous labour. That was my mission today, to start on the first scene, make some sort of progress.

Unfortunately, I made the call to get two minor things on my to-do list out of the way first in the morning. These have been on the list for ages, so finally gave in. First, get my camera fixed. Thanks to the highly competitive Irish prices to fix a minor problem in my camera, it turns out it’ll be cheaper to just buy a new one. Second on the list, was something I do twice a year perhaps. No, not that, I should be so lucky to do it twice in one year. Obviously, it was to get a haircut. On paper, should be grand. An hour tops. However, I can make quite a mountain out of a bird’s nest.

Have you ever been to Las Vegas? Two things stand out the most for me about Vegas. Number 1 is the heat. Unbelievable. Number 2 is the fact that a lot of girls there actually chat you up. It is weird. Until you realize that they are in the same profession as Roxanne. So much so, that you end up suspecting that any girl you talk to will just whip out a price list for their services, within 3 minutes of them approaching you. Great fun. They were the top 2 things I remembered about Vegas. A distant third, was how good the mirrors in the hotel room made you look. It was beyond a joke. After a 10 hour drive, with no sleep the night before, the mirrors somehow conned you into thinking you were looking alright, acceptable at least. Vegas wouldn’t know what hit it! Only when you catch your reflection on a slots machine in the casino downstairs, is it that you get the true picture, of how horrific you are actually looking.

There was a point for that tangent. I am convinced that they use the same mirrors in hairdressers. I never have any notion of how bad my haircut is initially, until I get home. The deceiving lights, the friendly small talk, and the well placed smiles, do not show the full extent of how bad your hair actually looks. I am more at ease going into surgery, than I am at getting a haircut in Ireland. With good reason too. After coming out of the hairdresser today, thinking it had went well, I arrived home to look at this in the mirror…

Worzel

Not what I was expecting. Well hair wise anyways, I’m used to the facial imperfections. Thankfully, I did something that I haven’t really done before. Seeing as I had so much fun doing it the first time, I went straight back in to get another haircut. What fun! The girl who cut it the first time was sound, and didn’t mind fixing it for me. I wonder if hairdressers would give a refund? Anyways, this time, I noticed a big difference was in the amount of small talk we had. It got chopped. Again, no real clue what it actually looked like in real life, only the Vegas style mirrors to work with. When I got home the second time, this is what was looking back at me in the mirror…

Ellen

Before you ask, yes, I did lie down like that in front of the mirror when I got home. Could be worse, I’ll take a woman’s haircut over a scarecrow’s one. The whole affair did remind me of what I should always remember before I go to a hairdresser in Ireland… It will grow back, and, bring a hat. As you can see, I managed to waste a good lump of my day, doing something fairly meaningless and pointless. Good to start getting them all out of my system really. Push!

Song for today…

Gigamesh

Etoile Pollaire (Remix) - Philip Glass

Bob Dole!!!

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Wuu huu! I am on the dole!!! Happy, happy days! Not literally. Unfortunately. Especially as any money is good money. Figuratively, however, I am on the Bob Dole. Which is great news. Finally, finally, my simple mind has gotten it’s head around the whole patience issue. About funking time.

Earlier today, I was talking to a buddy of mine, who was telling me about his quest for the dole. I asked him was he lined up to get a big bumper lump sum, seeing as he hadn’t worked in a good while, not since leaving college. Nay, was his answer. Well, more a plain “No”. Why so, I enquired? Because… “the dole office didn’t care about me and all that time I spent bumming around, or trying other things. I only came onto their radar, when I first went into them, for my first meeting. If my application goes through, then I’ll get a lump payment from that first meeting only, not a huge lump sum stretching back any further. Until then though, I’ll try to find something else while I am waiting to hear about it.”

If it is not jumping out off the screen at you, I will explain why those words made the internal struggle in my head gently float away. To an extent. Swap the dole office with television stations I have been courting/having meetings with. Application, with t.v show proposals. And a lump sum payment, with a green light to get the project made. See, all makes tremendous sense now. If I was to burst into the dole office, work some charm, and have the initial meeting go well, they would not simply say “Good work, you convinced me, here’s a bag of money, off with ya. Good boy.” Why would the t.v station be any different? Obviously that is not how things work. My brain likes to keep this kind of sense out at times, for as long as it possibly can.

My buddy told me that the dole process alone takes about 12 weeks. To get the dole! And I am trying to get a t.v show made?! Why was I frying my brain, thinking I should be told a.s.a.p. The t.v stations have no obligation to give a flying funk, or should they even, about my lack of patience or immediate desire to get the green light. Or to find out otherwise. They don’t really care that I have been struggling away at this for a while. Why would they be bothered with the ups and downs I’ve gone through in the past however long, since the adventure started. As far as they are concerned, with regards to these proposals, I am now only just after applying, and just now on their radar!

Hopefully I’m not giving off the impression either that I thought initially – Do they not know who I am? Do they not realize the struggles I went through? They should be knocking on my door. Nay, what I am trying to say, is that I couldn’t find the patience or self awareness to realize that I just have to wait. Simple as that. My buddy isn’t tearing his hair out, or frying his head, wondering about all these outsides factors that may or may not go his way. Nothing he can do, but he wasn’t really complaining about it. Obviously he would prefer to hear that he’s getting the lump sum sooner rather than later, but, tough. Just have to wait and see.

Same goes for me. “Patience is a virtue” and all that. Virtue on! Plenty to keep me occupied while I await the verdicts. Re-writes, proposals, spec scripts, and other stuff has filled up the to-do list.

Thankfully, I realized something last night while watching the show about Graham Linehan. (Again, not comparing myself to his genius. Just that I saw similarities. Which put my mind at ease. That I was not going nuts). That is, it is not just as easy as sitting down and the episode, for example, just flows out. I need to get my head back into that creative frame of mind. However, like a pregnant woman, I am pushing hard, and can see its head popping out. A delightful visual to end on. And, in case you were wondering which friend I was on about, it is… not me. 

Song of the day, two actually…

Little Joy

Don't Watch Me Dancing - Little Joy

Interpol

Untitled - Interpol

Water Works

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All in all, it has been a tough week. And I don’t mean tough as in I have been down a coal mine for the week, slaving away, hard labour. Tough, in the mental way. Looking to my corner, wondering should I wave for the towel to be thrown in, kind of thing. Luckily, in the past few days, I have been reinvigorated. and the dream lives on! However, that can wait until the next blogaruu. Seeing as it is Sunday, a day of chilling, I’d like to talk about another gibber-issue which cropped up again this week. 

The first issue is not a recent problem. It has followed me around all my life. The past few months have highlighted it considerably, wherever it may be that I have been. Up and down California, Mexico a couple of times, in and around Ireland. No matter where it is I arrive to, whatever new place it is, usually, within about 30 minutes of arrival, the problem occurs. And I end up naked, cold, frustrated and confused. For at least 5 minutes. Hazarding a guess, I would say I’m not the only one with this problem. Then again, maybe I am. Anyways, I think its time for a change. Surely, in this day and age, showers should be made into a universal form. Like taps are, more or less. Or toilets. 

However, they are not, and they continuously confuse me. I always forget as well, so strip down and get into the shower without even thinking about it. Then stand there, with a feeling of confusion growing inside of me, while I look blankly at the knob in front of me. Not that one, obviously, the shower knob. Again, this week, in my hotel in Galway, the same thing happened. As it did in the place where I stayed in Dublin. In Galway, when I turned the knob one way, the light in the bathroom switched off. Turned it back, the toilet flushed. Whenever I enquire how the shower actually does work, the answer is usually the same “Did you pull the knob out? Yeah, pull it down first, then out, then to the right, and back in. It should work then”. It doesn’t. Unless I am actually shown, it never does work. The best I can ever hope for, and most I can ever manage to get, is a cold trickle of water, preferably coming out of the shower head. At times though, showering with the water from the tap in the sink is the easiest option. Which is awkward enough when washing a mop of hair. 

It wasn’t that the hotel was a cheap, run down, old place either. It supposedly is a 4 star but I’d say 3 max. Nice though. And they oddly gave me almost a half price discount. Seeing as they somehow presumed I was from the Aran Islands? Which I obviously was, when the lady asked, so I got a chunky discount. Another weird thing about the hotel, and I have noticed this in other places too, is the way they still supply shower hats, but not toothpaste. I presume a lot more people would use toothpaste over the shower cap. Then again, seeing as it was there, I decided to make use of it. Just in case any water from the sink splashed up unexpectedly, while I had my sink shower.

When traveling around place to place on my own, trying to keep the dream alive, I have far too much time to ponder about all this vital stuff. Such as, the fact that I am not the fan of public bathrooms. Then again, who is, really? Not saying I have agoraphobia or anything. I just doubt that if someone was to be asked, where their favourite place in the world might be, they would actually reply “The bathroom down the local bus station”. This week, issues with moving bathrooms have cropped up. At least with stationary public bathrooms, you can walk away, eventually, from the problem e.g getting locked into one. Moving bathrooms, however, tend to be moving with you for a while, so the problem stays longer.

This stems from a few incidents this week. One was on the bus to Galway. Seated half way down the bus, I realized I was in fact next to the bathroom. Happy days. Made no difference really, until one special guy went in, about an hour into the journey. Not really sure what he was doing, but it sounded like he was given birth to a monkey in there. Honestly, the loudness of his grunting et al, was audible to most of the bus. When he eventually came out of there, after a lengthy birth, he was greeted with a few laughs and claps from randomers (I presume) on the bus. Which he managed to laugh at. And, he also had the last laugh. Particularly on myself and the guy next to me. Who got lumped with the odor for the final 2 hours of the trip. Happy days.

A similar incident occurred on the train up to Dublin. A quite unfortunate incident. A quite good looking Spanish girl was sitting next to me on the train. And she was wearing what I think are called groin high boots. That was not the unfortunate part. Or the bit that our small talk here and there went well. The unfortunate part was that after I woke up from a kip, I went to the bathroom. Which was occupied. Unfortunately, the same Spanish girl emerged from the bathroom. Where, it appeared, she had given birth to a rhino. It was horrendous. Obviously cant be fully sure it was her, but as no one else was around, and it was so immediate, she was guilty by association. When I sat back down, those boots, and her smile, just no longer had the same charm. Then again, me unknowingly leaving my zip undone, was probably equally as charming for her. Win win. 

End of my gibber-issues. Tomorrow shall be back on track to pursuing the dream. Time to re-focus, starting with the blog! Two songs to well and truly chill one out.

If you didn’t download it from the link the other day…

Boy 1904

Boy 1904 - Jonsi & Alex

And a song from a supposedly class song writer, never heard of him until recently… You Saved My Life – Cass McCombs

Touring

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If I thought my traipsing all over L.A was tough enough, it is far harder back here in Ireland. At least in L.A, I found myself a hub (WeHooooo) where I could walk to most places. Even if it was an hour’s walk away. On Google’s map paper, it is well do-able. The problem is that while being back in Ireland, I am based out of Cork. Where not too much happens, in the world I am just to bust into. So, meetings are usually held in Dublin. Weekly trips to Dublin are actually a good laugh, don’t mind them. Sometimes though, conveniently, meetings are held in Galway too it seems. The day after a meeting in Dublin perhaps. Handy, handy. Tours of Ireland are always fun.

Best part of all, is the way one gets from Galway to Cork… bus on! Train to Dubla from Cork. Bus to Galway, wifi on-board, from Dublin. Then a bus back down to Cork from Galway, as there seems to be no other way. 

I have realized that the problem I am developing in Cork is slipping back into my old routines too easily. The rut is calling me! More and more programs of mine are now being recorded on Sky Plus. My sleeping patterns and daily activities are heading back the way I was before I headed to L.A. I have also noticed that I am not seeing hot, new women while out in Cork. Same as before so! Era shur, I’m only joking! There are plenty of hot women from Cork. Just no new hot women in Cork.

Getting the train up to Dublin, I started to wonder was it really worth it. Going up to Dublin, to drop in a 5 minute DVD, that really the postman could’ve done. But, just to be sure it got there on time, and to try and make another good impression when I met the person, I thought it would be best to head up and hand it in, in person. Great call. Fleeced by a company in Dublin to burn one DVD. €25 for a 5 minute DVD (not even fully 5 minutes) of my stand-up “highlights”, ha, so far back in Ireland. At the time I was in such a rush that it never clicked. Now though, all those helpful smiles and best of luck comments, and then charge me that much. Some joke. You can buy 6 copies of Superbad in Golden Discs for 24 bones. And, more importantly, that DVD is actually funny.

This morning I headed off to give Rita my DVD. Pumped, yet shattered from lack of sleep and being up so early. It was a highly strange combo. Anyways, I get to the place nice and early, unlike me. My good intentions did not quite go to plan. I was asked to have it in before a meeting that was going ahead on Thursday morning. As it turns out, I was far too early for the lady who wanted the DVD, before she went to the meeting to show it to others. I’ll wait around. Yeah, she should be in, in about 2 hours time maybe. Not too sure. Good stuff. Just wait around. In the end, I just met a girl who works with her, and gave her the DVD instead. I am an efficient postman if nothing else. All the way up to Dublin, for nothing. Some waste of time. 

Next port of call was onto Galway. Meeting with Tina on Friday, plus an informal meeting with a director/producer. Network on at the Film Festival and all that! I arrive into Galway at about 5.30 from Dublin, go straight to my hotel, and check my emails. The job, received an email at almost exactly at the time I arrived into Galway, telling me that my meeting with Tina, scheduled for the next day, was cancelled for some reason. The funking berries. I was giving the person’s phone number instead, and could do it over the phone if I like. Wuu. A phone call. Can’t they be made from Cork too?

Touring Ireland for absolutely no reason. Reading that email made me feel like a complete idiot. Being honest, I was pretty close to a nervous breakdown. I could feel my mind frying. Instead of letting that happen, I ended up just trashing my hotel room. T.V out the window, messed the sheets around a bit, and left the toilet sit up. It was a mess. Well I did all but one of those things. 

However, luckily, I can be a clever idiot at times. For some reason, my brain kicked in. Sent an email to the lady in charge of the festival. One thing led to another. Ended up being invited  for drinks, a meet and greet, before a big dinner that was going on in a hotel near mine. And, conveniently, the person I came up to Galway to meet, would be at the drinks shindig. I could now meet him there instead. Wuu huu. Time to bring out the charm!

Thankfully, the informal meeting, in the quiet corner of the packed room, went very well. More information has been asked for, interest shown, up to me to deliver, blah baa baa. That 20 minute meeting made the two days of traipsing around the country well worth it. Celebrate the small victories kind of thing. Did a bit more networking for myself while at the drinks shindig. Directors, producers, and even a gay couple, who looked a lot like the couple from Mexico, were all giving me their business cards. Speaking of which, I still need to get my own made up. It is below buying a new pen on the to-do list. I just gave them my blog address in return. A mighty calling card!

Something else kind of made the 2 days of touring all seem worthwhile. Night ended normal enough. Kind of. Some guy I recognized from t.v, real country guy, no clue of his name though, started singing Dirty Old Town with me at the bar in a rowing club (random enough?). Apparently I was singing it to myself (again… ? Maybe a defense mechanism for knowing no one at these things) So, he decided, in between asking me questions in Irish, that we should both horse into a full on song. Good laugh, arm in arm with him at the bar. Me sober. Him paralytic. Me departing. Him falling off the stool. Me coming back to write my business card address on his hand. All about the networking, making my mark.

There was a better point in there that would’ve wrapped it all up nicely. However, due to being tired beyond belief, it eludes me at this moment. So, a song will have to do…

Best Coast

Sun Was High (So Was I) - Best Coast

Treat ‘Em Mean!

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I have two ways to describe my morning so far. One is to say I am just, just over an hour early for the train to Dublin. The other route would be to say I literally missed the original train I planned to get by 5 seconds. Not even, really, I managed to get through the gate but couldn’t stop the automatic doors from closing on me. I could have made it if I dumped by bags while I ran, but that would just have been dumb. Almost, as dumb, as someone missing their train. Especially when that someone was up 2 & 1/2 hours before the train was due to leave.

After barely making my last four trains to and from Dublin by the skin of my teeth, it was inevitable that I would miss one soon. No one to blame, except myself really. Although, I could push the boat out and say that if my friend, who I had to call to, en route to the station, was able to throw keys like a normal person, it might have been a different story. Instead, the keys did not make it over a waist-high gate. This led to me jumping over the gate, having to pick them out of a bush, hop back over the gate and then whiz off in my car. A highly valuable 30 seconds, at least, was wasted there.

I also managed to neatly place my hand in the same place twice while jumping over the gate and back. At the time I thought the stuff was moss. Squishy, white moss. Now though, I see that it is something else entirely. Whereas I was picking something up from my friend’s house, it seems the birds were dropping stuff off. Omens of good luck never hurt anyone I suppose. Anyways, I wont blame him. Or the birds. My fault all the way.

The wise old saying “treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen” is familiar to most. I am beginning to realize that it should be used in a lot of different walks of life. Not just one. For example, nobody is really a fan of over the top, full-on, bombardment when they first meet a girl. Well, maybe you are, but I wouldn’t be a fan myself. However, now and again I forget this, and end up doing the same myself. Well, maybe not so much in that area, but definitely others.

About a week or so ago, lets just say I met a girl in Dublin. We’ll call her Rita. First meeting we clicked big time, started brightly. We got on well, all the right boxes were ticked, the timing was right, could this be fate?! After the initial date, a few phone calls and emails were sent, bit of texting went on. Forward and back, Roddick to Federer, this was looking good. Then, I heard nothing from Rita for a few days. So I sent another text. Still nothing. This led to my imagination running off a tad. I started to think how could Rita just cut me loose like that. What did I do to ruin the groundwork that had gone before? I thought we would fly through the initial phase of our blossoming relationship, and plough on from there. Why won’t Rita ring and confirm that we are an item! At least let me get to 2nd base!!!!

Yesterday, Rita did call me. All was fine, things were still normal, regular conversation. She likes to take things slowly it seems. Things take time and all that. Oh right, my bad, I was getting ahead of myself a bit. Clingy, Id say Rita was probably thinking. We had just met. I wanted to jump straight into a relationship. Should’ve held back, played hard to get. Instead, I did the worst thing possible, and ended up just sitting around over thinking things. Ape.

Not to worry, I have my wits back with me again. Now, I am off to do what I should’ve done earlier… hook up with Rita’s friend. Tina, we’ll call her, was onto me recently. Being honest, I wasn’t sure if I’d do it to Rita and all that, me being a gentleman and all. However, Tina just wants to meet up for a coffee or something. Just a friendly meeting, nothing too serious or anything. See how it goes. I have a plan. Might see if Tina is up for doing something with Rita. More the merrier. 3-some on! Speaking of which, I forgot they’ve a 3rd friend.

First song of the day…

Brendan Benson

Poised and Ready - Brendan Benson

And one final song for yesterday…

Will You Be There - Michael Jackson

My Left Hand

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I don’t know if you even have one, but my to-do list – or two duu as I like to cleverly call it – is fairly chunky. Which, can be looked at in two ways. One way, would be to say I am fairly busy, lots of things to do. The other, more in touch with reality way, might be to say, I am a busy fool. I’ll go with option A. This morning, however, I noticed that out of last week’s two duu list, I got about 20 of the 25 things on the list, out of the way. Magnificent.

And, the other 5? Probably the most important things on it. But, you know, I got 20 of them done, I was keeping busy. I do really need to sort out number 2 on the list – Buy a small pen. The blogaruus are suffering due to my lack of notes! Last week ended with me feeling pretty weary, from knocking on so many doors. Thankfully, today I remembered I have two hands. My left hand has started promisingly, so far at least.

Well, besides this morning. First port of call was a place where, lets just say, one might try to be innocuous. I shall say no more of where it was. Instead I shall tell you of what happened when I sat down at the reception and fielded a few questions… I happened to notice a copy of the Corkonian magazine on the table behind the guy. The edition that I recently so gracefully graced. Graceful in a camel kind of way. Odds are the guy I was talking to probably never read the magazine, or even looked through it. At the time though, I was convinced that he just closed together the pages that I was on, and looked up to see me. Threw me off on my quest for Bob. A heavily coded paragraph, but if you can get it, it was funny enough. Not this paragraph. Obviously. The incident and my dumbness for connecting the two.

Now that I think of it, my next port of call doesn’t really prove my point either. Have you ever went food shopping, and made the mistake of taking a basket, instead of a trolley? Then, within an isle or two, you’ve well and truly filled up the basket? It is too late now to go all the way back outside and get a trolley. So, you have to dumbly soldier on. It’ll be easy to carry the big things on top of each other with one hand, while maneuvering the packed basket with the other hand. And using your foot to take stuff off the shelves. Almost too easy. Crushing sliced pans, squashing boxes of Cornflakes, and smashing my own eggs. Some laugh. All jokes aside, I would not recommend holding individual eggs in your hands, and allowing yourself to be annoyed at the same time. There is only one loser. The egg. Oh Jesus.

All that was before lunch though. After the hour of one, my left hand kicked in. Tap here, rat a tat there, and I was back on the road. All of those things I mentioned over the weekend might still be in limbo, or the give it time stage. However, if they tip in my favour, then at least I will have things good to go. Slowly but surely crews are being formulated, and arcs are being developed. C’mon the left hand! Instead of letting the chance that I might lose out, like I did on Saturday, due to an error in my DJ gig being double booked, I now have double booked myself, provisionally at least, for this Saturday night. Dumb, yet in a clever kind of way. C’mon the left hand!

One last thing, which I also found a bit odd today. Until today, I never encountered a guy using the term “Hee hee” to another guy. Followed by the term “Lol”. Followed by me enquiring were the messages meant for a girl? Or had he stepped out of a closet? They weren’t, he hadn’t, he saw nothing wrong with them. Maybe I am out of West Hollywood too long, but I laughed. In a ha, kind of way. He said good one, put that in your blog. I said, due to the lack of a small pen for notes, I would if I was stuck. Which, I just did. Hee hee. 

Free song as well, by the by, if anyone is interested. Stumbled on it today, if you like Sigur Ros you’ll probably like this too. Seeing as it is the main dude from Sugar Rose. All they want in return is your a-mail. Just click here

And my song of the day, belongs to a rake…

The Decemberists

The Rake's Song - The Decemberists