Harking back to my college days, oh what a lark, one thing that sticks out in my mind is texting girls on behalf of my friends. Not all the time, just some times, if they got stuck trying to woo a girl. Sometimes I still actually do it which might be a bit harsh on the unlucky girl – making her think my wit (or lack there of) is his wit and all that. I’ll get over it, I hope. Anyway, I was usually asked for help when a friend might want the girl to come out and meet him but she was leaning more towards staying in. Through my own means, I found one trick that almost always worked. The texting conversation might go as follows: Continue Reading »
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On the upside… I think I’m in love! Funk me pink… I am! I’m in love. Monday truly was a mighty day! On the downside… Currently waging a war against an army of ailments. Pretty sure I might be allergic to the flu. Keep sneezing when I’m around my sick roommate. Unwittingly flew back from San Fran straight into a flu-den. Tut. Dose. Can’t remember the last time I was sick. Besides mentally, says you. And hungoverly, say I. (Actually I do know exactly when. First week of January 2009. The week before I moved to L-Hey. Left my ailments in Ireland!). Not happy. Very stuffy. All that gibber. However. No time to be ill. Which is why it shall be positive on. All that gibber. Sick?! Tut. Nay! I’m in love! Positive on! Me shall see. So back to me falling in love… Continue Reading »
Tut. Sigh. Batman has his cave. Superman has that ice place. Ape boy man has San Fran. At least wuu to the huu for that certain ape boy man. Thankfully we all have a place to go when we need to write. And perhaps when we need to chill. Mighty for a mental break. Which in turn is mighty way to avoid a mental breakdown. I joke. Still a few years off that. Plan is to make various kinds of art. Not fall apart. Anyways, San Fran has been dancing. Start to finish. Which is tomorrow. Tut. Sad to leave. Came up for my cousin’s wedding. Congrats again. Ate. Drank. Was merry. Even more so when I saw an 82 year old Gran dominate the dance-floor at the afters. And I mean dominate. Knees up. Elbows out. Grooving on! Dance on Granny! Fun and soothing times in San Fran. Although perhaps coming up here is more of a symbol. See I’m not right in the middle of downtown San Fran. More a metaphorical hut in the hills. Cabin in the mountains. Zero distraction. Perfect getaway from the nutter-ness of L-Hey. Tut. Continue Reading »
Tea. Quite the Magic potion. Like any Irish man, woman, child, ape, leprechaun, dancer, I enjoy a cup of tea. About ten times a day. Can’t beat a cup. Or spreading the word about the magical qualities of it. However, as an Irish bape/man boy in America, I am fully aware that tea bags are not as readily available as back home. Proper ones, at least. Which is why bags of tea bags are constantly smuggled over the border by little green men on a daily basis. Irish gold. All of which makes offering tea to folk in my vicinity when I go to make a cup, an entirely polite gesture. Willing, hoping, prompting them to say no. As I know what will happen. 9 times out of 10. American folk like to try new things. Mostly. So, being asked by an Irish ape if they want an Irish cup of tea, means that they will, more often than not, say yes. As if it is a little treat. If crystal meth was seen as a jovial Irish thing, I am pretty sure people would say yes just as easily. Seriously. Try it. 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
Enough Talk, More Writing! 
