Hey, Costco? What if I was Jewish, and therefore not celebrating Easter, huh? Or what if I was vaguely Christian and nonaffiliated and just wanted to use my day off to visit your establishment and buy some goddamn Luna bars?
Lunch with Carrie now, though. And yay to that!
There's an old Twilight Zone episode on, just finishing up -- it was only a dream... Or was it?
That's the way this week has felt for me, so far. Only a dream, sort of kind of. Dad and Eric were just here, and that was surreal -- dinner at Canter's and lots of talkin' and a joy, of course. But that doesn't make me less sleepy.
Maybe it's because I'm so tired.
I don't even know why I'm so tired -- I guess I'm just worn out by the weight of work to do. And the load isn't too heavy! I'm just tired.
Tonight's Buffy had serious HSQ, and the preview for tomorrow's Angel had me goin' Whaaaaaa?. So much good TV, so little time.
Haven't started the ten minute play that's due Thursday, or the coverage that's due tomorrow. I just wanna sleep...
If I went to bed now and got up at nine, I'd have four hours to write seven pieces of coverage. Could work.
And I'm very tired...
This is just amazing.
These are the things I need to write over the next few weeks:
- The "final" draft of my thesis screenplay
- The story for an interactive narrative project
- At least two songs
- A short script for Alison
- A ten minute play
- Two synopses for features, as well as a full outline for one of them.
And what's strange is that it's all kind of exhilarating. No papers, no exams, just me and characters and dialogue and story.
We'll see if I'm still singing this tune in a week, but right now -- pretty damn cool.
I really suck.
I got very little work done, and I've got much more that needed to be done, and I'm really going to be screwed.
Well, not really. I'll be okay. I just really wish that I'd gotten more done.
But oooh! The Critic! And then bed.
The Entertainment Round-Up
So, there's this strange category of songs that can be best described as Those 80s Songs That Transcends 80s-ness. Generally, this involves the song being:
a) extremely good
b) not necessarily immediately recognizable as being of the 80s
c) listenable beyond its decade
"Man In Motion (St. Elmo's Fire)" is not any of these things. I love it still.
In every generation, there is a chosen one. He alone will stand against the art house thespians, the wacky character actors, and the moping pretty boys. He is the new Clint Eastwood.
I finally saw Pitch Black recently, and I don't wanna marry Vin Diesel or anything, but I get the Vin Diesel thing a lot more. It's just kinda fun, to watch him kick ass, take names, and smirk about it.
Plus, his bald head is shiny and round. And he's got an element of scruff to him.
All that said, Guys and Dolls? A romantic comedy?
Vin. Please. Think about Every Which Way But Loose. Think about Oscar.
Edward Furlong ("Terminator 2") is pumping iron and bird watching in preparation for the role of play James O'Barr's tortured avenger in "The Crow: Wicked Prayer" according to SCI FI Wire.
"I'm on this special diet, I'm working out and I'm looking at crows all the time," Furlong told SCI FI.
That makes me smile. It's kinda Zen in a way.
Kinda ridiculous, too. But that's its charm.
So apparently Happenin' Video Store (let's just start calling it HVS) is big on catering to the Famous Person. Including people who might have initials that might be recognizable.
I have not waited on any yet (Famous People tend not to come in on weekends) but I am told that some (SOME, not all) have The 'Tude, and it will be a bad idea to approach or attempt small talk or, well, speak to them. Not because they will be deliberately mean, but because they don't have much interest in jabbering with video store clerks.
As banter is normally a big part of my customer service style (it's like stand up, but with a captive audience), I've been practicing a toned-down, minimal-conversation selling approach. Das Roomie suggests that the Famous People just haven't met me yet, and will be so charmed by the wonder that is moi that they'll want to do nothing but chat over the counter and buy my screenplays.
I raise a skeptical eyebrow, and think about ways to minimize receipt-signing time.
By the way, in case you were wondering? Angel is the best show on television. Possibly EVER.
And not just because next week's episode is called "Shiny Happy People."
But that does help.
I checked, though, and "Shiny Happy People" is not One of Those 80s Songs.
You know what is, though? "In the Air Tonight." This website is Pro-Phil Collins, no matter what direction his career might take.
You go, Phil. You go.
There is so much work to be done this weekend, including (hopefully) revising the second draft of Old Screenplay and writing up some ideas for New Screenplays. Not to mention attempting to write a song and not flunking my other classes.
I'm so ready to graduate.
I'm up early this morning, so I think I'll read a screenplay for Happenin' Screenplay Competition (HSC) and buy my ticket for Coachella (Mom and Dad, HVS has paid me money and I'll just take care of it myself).
And then, back to the store. The only place I ever seem to be.
What a week what a week what a week...
Forget skydiving. You want a rush? Try pitching an original series idea to a classroom half-full of strangers and two rather well-known industry guys.
It was kind of a bogus class assignment, in the long run -- but I'm relieved I did it, and it went fairly well, despite how nervous I was. Mom was surprised, recently, when I told her of my new-found fear of public speaking -- she pointed to copious evidence from my childhood that suggests that I love being the center of attention, love performing.
I'll admit that halfway through, about one moment after I got my first laugh, it felt great and I was good to go. Didn't make up for the solid twelve hours of panicking I did beforehand, but that's a minor detail.
It's something that came with college, with this new person I started becoming. This new person is fun to hang out with, hygenically superb, a good writer, and a decent pitcher. She just hates taking risks with all of that. She hates standing on the ledge.
But when she does -- what a rush.
No more third person in this entry. Promise.
That's because this entry is really really short. I'll write more later. But right now, I gotta get ready for work and any other adventures that follow.
Still kinda sick. But the coughing and sore throat and so forth seem to go away mid-day. Which isn't much relief, but it is something.