I Could Really Use a Blog Right Now...

Suggested Listening: Airplanes (Parts 1 and 2) by B.o.B. feat. Hayley Williams off his new album B.o.B. Presents: The Adventures of Bobby Ray.

A month later…

San Francisco, yet again, for pride weekend. I don’t live there, why? I’d keep going but it would be more of the same San Francisco is the best place evaaarrr talk. I went this time with Frannie up in her car, Petunia, and…well more on Petunia later. My friend Cori now lives in San Francisco…so though Frannie now goes to med school in town, I still have a place to crash when I visit SF (which will be frequently, if I have my way with the world), even if it means sleeping on the carpet next to her inflatable mattress (bit snug of an apartment) (love ya, Cori)

I found myself house sitting for friends of ours while they were away on an anniversary cruise.

Their house has 3 stories, with a pool house, HD TV’s, jacuzzi tub, nestled up in the hills…

And a weird ass place to be alone in at night. (Sorry, guys) It’s a big place to have very dark and very quiet. When you live in someone else’s house for that long (two weeks) it’s strange to be surrounded by their stuff and pictures. They’re lovely people, but…in a house that’s not yours are a bit odd.

But living somewhere else than home is pretty awesome.

I slept in the room belong to their youngest son (18) because his bed was immensely plushy. ImmENSELY plushy. I don’t know if he’d be willing to call it plushy since he plays Hockey (now for your University of Alabama Frozen Tide) but it was very…very cushy. The room is very dark as well which helps with sleeping. I feel like I’m writing a 5th grade book report. “I slept in Scott’s bed. It was comfy. I thought his covers were colorful. There is a poster of Luc Robitaille next to his bed. He was a famous Hockey player.”

It wasn’t all fun and games at the house, of course. I mostly watched over their cats, Shammy and Smokey, making sure they didn’t plot to take over the world. Shammy was incredibly affectionate but mostly followed me around wondering where his family was. This was settled by one cat treat or two then he’d just cozy up somewhere while I did some work. Smokey, though, just watched me. They have a weight set in the house, which I used, and there he was…watching. TV? Watching. Breakfast? Watching.

And judging. You know its true.

Petunia is a pastel green Toyota Prius that my friend Frannie drives. Frannie went to Africa for a week to save the world, like she usually does, by working in a clinic. She left me in charge of her stuff, as she didn’t want it just sitting there for a month in a dodgy part of town with no one in the apartment. I hid her gadgets and things in our house and got to bound around in … well… a Prius I come from the Top Gear school of thought which holds that cars like the Prius are not cars at all, but, as professor Jeremy Clarkson points out, are essentially as fun to drive as a microwave oven…or a toaster. Driving Petunia was, for me, pretty enjoyable. It has fun little gadgets and is almost too convenient in terms of amenities. I taught petunia to answer my calls for me on my iPhone. And the fact that I only filled it up –once- while Frannie was gone for a whole month did strengthen its case in the automotive mind of…me. Get it going uphill and it doesn’t want to work, and it’s a bit pissy at how you start the engine, but over all it’s a fun car.

I’ll get one for someone else one day. What, did you think I changed on you? I took ONE quick spin to the store in Izzy, our IS-300 from Lexus, and got a 300 horsepower slap in the face for sleeping with another car who clearly can’t hold her road as well as other gals.

Haven't changed a bit.

Staying at the house gave me a first big gulp of freedom that I found very addicting. Of course, when freedom entails of HD televisions and bathtubs the size of small countries your vision gets a little distorted from the truth, but addicting nonetheless.

I’m at home right now, and from the looks of it will be for a bit longer. 1) the economy. 2) …


Twooooo…


It might not be such a bad idea for what I want to do. That being acting. While living on my own I got a great jump on what I hope to be my future profession. I interviewed actors that our family knows on how to get started, what to expect, what comes first, etc, and I went out and did them.

Except headshots. I don’t know why, but that just hasn’t happened yet. What has happened is an agent workshop, getting signed up for two student films (more on the way) and getting myself into an acting class and workshop out here, all in a weeks time.

What if I took a year, just one year, and sacrificed my dignity to be the guy who “lives with his parents” (I love them to pieces, don't get the wrong idea. They're awesome people) and just worked on performing. Workshops, auditions, work somehow, somewhere, singing, theatre, commericals... After a year I’ll have experience coming out of every crack of my start-up empire while gaining a reputation as being hard working. Every actor friend has said this about LA: most people are lazy in trying to get work, experience is key, and the more effort I can devote to being an actor, the better.

As long as I keep positive, and hard working…

I’m a Sarah Lawrence alum, and I feel like taking over the world.

Narf.