Detour

Ok. This shouldn't feel sad but it does. It's not giving up, it's growing up. It's not quitting, it's moving forward. I am switching blogs. After much debate, I feel like this is a solid choice. I have thought about uploading all of my past entries to the new space, but in turn just decided to leave this up as is. Hopefully this will inspire me to fulfill my internet duties by posting even more useless information that will inevitably cause a giant traffic jam on the information superhighway.

Introducing the new condition d

4th Meal Is A Callin

I don't think I have ever wanted Taco Bell so bad. My mouth is actually kind of watering. I don't even know if it's worth not having simply because I'm trying to eat better. Could it be a reward? I can't believe I looked up their nutritional menu. Must...resist...running....for border. Must think inside the pan and cook something myself. Kinda getting tired of making pasta every night.

All in a days work

Wow.  It really feels good to accomplish something.  Even if it's not a huge accomplishment, anything helps the unemployed.  Here's a run down.

Woke up at noon (I gotta work on that)

Went for a nice run around the lake

Called the bank and lowered my APR

Cancelled internet on my phone

Called rug people for more work

Cleaned the kitchen

Thought about cleaning the bathroom

Cleaned myself up

Took some self portraits

Played around with them in Photoshop

Played some Wii with Dan

Received and installed another gig of ram

Cooked a nice quiet dinner

And now possibly going to shoot free pool

It's all about the little things

And the laughter stops

Really?  At 28?  Recently starring in one of the most anticipated hero movies.  Breakthrough work in a gay cowboy movie.  Yet couldn't overcome the urge to pop a bunch of sleeping pills.  What a shock.  

You will be missed.

Studio Sweet Studio

Thought you may want to see the wonderful space I spend my time photographing rugs.  Well.  This is it.  A nice, oh, let's say 30x30 room in the back of a warehouse.  Nothing fancy.  Desk, chair, fan, lights.  The strobes are pretty nice with digital dials.  Floor is either hardwood or stone, depending on what type of covering I am shooting.  Basically I spend four to eight hours in this room each job photographing and touching up anywhere from three to ten rugs at a time.  I take the clients the final photos up front in the office.  They review and I leave.  Nothing too complicated.  It's only a matter of time before I ask to use the studio for personal use.  Always helps having a couple extra lights and a nice dedicated space.

Shortstop Situations

Ok.  It's 2:17 in the morning of Sunday.  I don't know if I want to make these late night blogs a common occurrence but here goes.

Just got back from Shortstop.  This isn't the first time it has nearly come to blows with Nathan, I, and other pool players.  This group of five vs. us.  They all couldn't have been above sixteen, which begs the question how they got in.  I acknowledge the absurdity of blogging about billiard discrepancies but this feels necessary.  We get down to the nitty gritty of the game.  One ball each and the eight.  Nathan and I have played near five safeties not touching the eight ball.  No one wants to go near the eight ball.  It has been avoided all game as it should be.   God this sounds ridiculous.  All of a sudden, the cue lines up with the eight and their last ball.  He (the opponent) calls a combo off the eight ball into there own, setting them up to win the game.  We explain that you can't play off the eight ball, which is official billiards rule.  He tells us ok, but it is his table as we challenged him, and that's the way he plays, so that is how it is.  He makes the combo and then the eight.

Now things get rough.  Nathan steps up in his face calling bullshit.  You can't all of the sudden disclose this secret rule by which you play by when it benefits you.  I stand on guard.  The opponent tries to explain himself with his friends coming to his aid, standing tall behind him.  I stare down all of the background while Nathan calmly explains the error at which the opponent just played.  When it comes down to it, we are off the table and they continue on.  Shouldn't have been , but is, and let's face it, it's a game of pool and this sentence has far too many commas in it.

So we wait.  Then we put another dollar on the table to play again (since they have decided not to abide by the regular chalkboard rules).  By the time the ammeters are done with there next game, the bar is closing.  Revenge is cut short.  Of course as we walk home, that very same group is in front of us.  I keep telling Nathan to keep it cool because it is not worth it.  We end up passing the group, but not without catching them proclaiming "We won the game of pool."  Livid comes to mind.  Both Nathan and I are now making fists.  Him ready to turn and fight.  Me realizing the odds of four (be it them not equipped) vs. two. Somehow they continue to follow us up the street, which angers me that they live that close and could possibly be seen at our bar again.  We get to the corner and Nathan wants to stop and see if they say anything else.  Luckily they take the other fork in the road.

All in all.  No.  Not worth it at all to mess with anyone, even a bunch of irresponsible young-ins that probably need to be taught a lesson.  Which is why it never would've come to it.  Still.  It's that type of people that are ruining our wonderful Shortstop.  I refuse to get into any type of trouble in there because I honestly respect it and the employees too much, as well as I really don't want to get into any type of fight in the first place.  I would much rather avoid confrontation at all cost so there is nothing to worry about.  It's just those type of people that make you think what if.

Hollywood but she really shouldn't

It is 1:27 in the morning this wonderful Thursday.  I just got home from a birthday party for my roommate's girlfriend.  We celebrated at The Green Door in Hollywood.  I really don't get it.  Every place in Hollywood has been overpriced and usually way overcrowded.  This place was different in the realm that they didn't let it get super packed, which is a huge bonus.  Still, paying ten dollars for a drink is not my idea of a good time.  Do people just forget about all of their bills while they are there?  Or are they so fortunate that nights out like this don't phase them?

It is truly amazing watching these people.  I spent my fair share standing there alone watching others.  It may sound stereotypical, but nearly everyone there was an actor.  Watching the aspiring actresses clutch on and flirt with the agents in the room was the most disgusting and hilarious sight.  It's all about bettering one's self.  I can't handle that kind of behavior.  The whole point of being out should be to have a good time and relax, yet everyone is so worried about themselves I feel that it is lost.

So many people.  In and out.  Met and forgotten.  Really reminds me that this city has little meaning behind it other than self preservation.  If you don't have anything to offer these people, sit down.

The shit has hit the fan

What a great way to meet the neighbors.  Last night, after retiring to my room for the evening, sounds of tires squealing right outside my window fill the air.  I quickly make my way to the living room to ask Nathan if he heard it because it sounded like a crash after the squeal.  He said yes and I returned to my room.  No more than ten seconds after sitting back down at my computer BAM BAM BAM.  Natural reaction, duck.  Hit the floor.  Kiss the hardwood.  However you want to put it, do it.  I run back out to the living room where Nathan is on the balls of his feet, both of us wondering what we should do.  Do we call the cops?  Would they even care or just welcome us to Los Angeles?  My phone rings.  It's Dan from next door.  Yeah Dan, we heard it too.  Nathan and I are immediately and carefully looking out the window for any sign of activity, fleeing, bleeding, etc.

For whatever reason, we decide to walk out on our balcony to get a better view or to get shot I'm not sure which one.  Within three minutes a spotlight from a police helicopter is directly on our building.  A few minutes later brings a cop car and we are down on the street answering questions.  Soon we are surrounded by several cop cars and a dozen officers combing the street for shell casings.  This was no little 9mm.  This was at least a .45.  After a good forty-five minutes later and the whole thing is over.  The police gathered that the house behind us was shot at.  Eyewitness accounts report that a car left their driveway and was shot at by another car.  Apparently a lot of people that use to live in our building before us were part of a gang that is in a tag war with another near by gang, thus explaining all the spray paint that has been adorning our building lately.  Great news to hear after signing a lease.

I have never slept closer to my mattress.  It was very uncomfortable laying that flat and tense.  I woke up at the slightest noise.  My window is about eight feet away from their driveway.  I heard a car return at some point very late and about pissed myself.  I don't think we are in any danger.  I just hope there isn't a backlash and things just keep cool.

Oh, and don't tell mom.  I don't want her to worry.

Cause of Death

Seems pretty clear. James and I honestly found it this way. Art or foreshadowing?

This past weekend was very reminiscent of film school. I operated on a short in which the script originally called for forty-six pages to be shot within two days. That's two thirds of an indie feature in two days. Giddy up. It was a nonstop shoot fest. The only breaks we had were our 30 min first meal and 15 min second meal. Towards the middle end of the second day, the idea of block, light, shoot finally caught on. I can't remember the last time I worked on a project where second meal was actually planned. Talk about some overtime. The project felt very "video-y" but I suppose that was the goal since it will be a featured video on youtube the first or second week of February.  Just another lesson not to get too excited too early.

Nothing on the horizon now except a couple of photo shoots.  Hopefully will have some new images soon.

Bored and Broke

What does one with no money do between the hours of 5pm till sleep? I feel like once it gets dark, accomplishing anything becomes very rare. There is such a limited amount of things to pass the time. I've cleaned my room (sorta), did laundry (more like shrank laundry), cooked and ate dinner (rice burrito with chip crumbs) and now I have nothing to do. Reading could potentially work but I think I would be telling myself I'm still bored. Television is such a waste. Looks like another night of sitting here staring at my roommate's dog, Auggie.