Running Up That Hill (Louis La Roche Remix) – Kate Bush
Some things in L.A appear will never change. Not unless I do, anyway. Such as, people calling me by the wrong name over and over. Ever growing list at this stage. The usuals still apply. Merrick. Eric. Omar. Moved on a lot to Merk. Murk. Maaaaarrrk. Sometimes when I say my full name I get mistaken for a Mexican guy named Marquez. And then at one point someone working at Coffee Bean thought my name was America. Combination of being asked a question by two people at the same time: ‘Your name… Merrick?’ ‘So a large coffee?’ Eh, Mark – Yeah… ‘Coffee for America!’ Although another time I asked for coffee recently I got the reply: ‘Cathy? I’m not too sure. Let me check – Hey guys, does a Cathy work here? Sorry man, no Cathy.’
So that was fun.
Considering all of the name confusion that has already occurred due to my accent and mumbles (along with everyone in L.A having lazy ears, tut), I was still a bit surprised about my name morphing earlier on today: Continue Reading »
Something happened yesterday that still has me baffled. I don’t really know how it happened. Or if it was my fault or not. I just know that it happened. Don’t really understand it though. This has led to a flood of other things cropping up in my head which have occurred recently where even though I do understand parts of what happened, I completely don’t understand other sections. For example, I don’t really get why people rush on to a plane, particularly when seats have already been allotted. Continue Reading »
You have somewhere you need to be, an important meeting lets say, but it could be anywhere. Being the smart person you are, you get up early that morning, get ready, plenty of time to spare, and you’re good to go. Say the meeting is at 11, lets say that is about 10.43, and the meeting venue is about a 6 minute walk from where you live (according to Google maps). It would be dumb to be too early for the meeting. Obviously. Tops, you only want to be a minute or two early. So, you decide to have a quick cup of tea before you leave. The smart thing to do. You cant beat a cup of tea!
Roughly around 10.45 you fill the kettle up, but seeing as it is not an electric one, you have to sit and wait for it to boil on the cooker. Pots and kettles are quite similar when watched. You get impatient, but continue to wait. You’ll chug it back quickly over the sink, it’ll be fine. Cup and tea bag ready, at 10.48 you pour the boiling water in, can’t have it too weak, so you wait a bit longer for it to be the right blend that you like. It is now about 10.50, drain the tea bag, and realize you have only a drop of milk left. It’ll have to do, no time to waste, just chug it back and you can still make the meeting on time. Take a big mouthful, and burn your tongue nicely. Spit half the mouthful into the sink and curse the cup of tea, for being so stupid and hot, what was it thinking?!!! The cup of tea is then poured down the sink, as punishment for burning your tongue. For some reason (maybe have OCD, or else just be a clean freak, not really sure), you decide to wash the cup before you leave, realize it is now 10.53, and the race is on!
Anyone else? No? Me neither.
On a side note, last Friday I had a meeting with the head of the Irish Film Board here in L.A. It was on in Starbucks around the corner from my house, about 5 minutes away. Well that’s not taking into account my steep hill and the dodgy street of traffic on Sunset Boulevard you must run across to get there. But if you run/sprint all the way, in the sweltering heat, you’ll be fine, you can make it on time. Just.
An Irish girl in BAFTA had set the meeting up for me, good chance to network etc. There was also another Irish actress coming along as well, the more connections the better! Due to a plethora of reasons – sheer heat that day, issues with my tongue, and not being a fan of hot beverages at that time – I was hoping to stay away from getting a coffee. However, as one was then bought for me, I thought I could at least get away with just holding it, and pretending to take sips. Not to look rude or anything. Obviously, I was then asked if my coffee also tasted a bit peculiar, take another drink and tell me if yours tastes odd too, kind of thing occurred. Yeah, tastes weird alright, is there any milk in it, no? Cheers. Tastes like burnt tongue, or maybe the inside of my cheek is now scalded, not sure really which one I am tasting. My mouth has yet to recover or forgive me. The sacrifices I am going through in hope of a break!
Overall, the meeting went well. I was not entirely sure what I wanted to gain out of the encounter, mainly just to make contacts and tell people what I am trying to do here, I suppose. Told them a few blog related stories, the girl talked about her acting activities and the likes, and that was it mostly. The guy from the Irish Film Board was younger than I expected, sound too, and the girl was pretty cool on top. However, when the meeting was wrapped up, there was an air of, ok, cool, cheers for meeting up, au revoir, I will see you whenever. We all went outside, shook hands goodbye, gave the girl I just met a hug goodbye, almost bopped her in the head, and started to walk back home, fairly pleased. Fairly.
As it turned out, the guy was walking in the same direction as me, seeing as his office was across the road from the top of my street. The conversation turned a bit less informal (not that the coffee meeting was formal or anything) and things took a turn for the better. Being an Everton supporter has rarely been of use to me. Meeting other Everton supporters is very infrequent. Lo and behold, I was walking alongside a fellow Everton supporter. Banter on “What was your sitcom about again? We should meet up for the Everton match”. Sounds good. He also drinks in the bar that I now DJ at, more banter on! “I’m going there tomorrow with some friends if you want to come.” I’m heading off to write the pilot and sitcom outline, when I get back though, sounds good. “When you get that scene of the sitcom made, I’d be interested in looking at it, could show it to a few others too. Did I tell you about the film festival I’m organising?” You mentioned it in passing, tell me more, it sounded good!
The walk home took the level of the meeting’s success up a notch or two. All in all, well worth a burnt tongue (tea) and scalded cheek (coffee). I shall be sticking with the water from now on. Until the next meeting anyways.
Here’s a mighty song that I always sang along to with “You look a bit like coffee and you taste a bit like tea”. Then found out it was “… coffee … me”. Tea would’ve been far better… The Skin Of My Yellow Country Teeth by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah