Help Wanted

It's the start of FY 2010 for much of the corporate world. In honor of that, I've decided to post some job listings for those of you out of work. Merely trying to help.

Position: Cleaning Lady
Description: My house is kinda messy and I'm moving out on the 30th of this month. So come clean it. Previous experience isn't necessary... just show up looking gorgeous. Hiring will be done based upon how you look in a sweaty maid's outfit.
Compensation: Free shower after you're done mopping my floors.

Position: Lawnmower
Description: It's been raining a lot here, and the grass grows remarkably fast as a result. Since I'm a lazy bastard, I don't want to do it myself. You can use my lawnmower. Hiring will be done based upon how you look in Daisy Dukes, since I will no doubt be watching from the living room window.
Compensation: The hose will be connected to the spigot, so you can stay hydrated.

Position: Masseuse
Description: Massage my scalp, my back, and everywhere else. Also, "draw" on my back, kiss my back, and find the sensitive spot just above the right side of my pelvis. Hiring will be done based upon how soft your hands and lips are.
Compensation: The air conditioner will be on to keep the house from getting too humid, and I'll let you watch whatever you want on TV.

Position: Chauffeur
Description: Drive me around. Stunt, combat, and race driving experience preferred, but not required. Knowledge of standard transmissions is a must, unless you're superbly gorgeous... then we can negotiate.
Compensation: If you can convince me, I'll teach you how to parallel park. If you already know how, consider yourself pre-compensated.

Position: Bather
Description: Get me wet, lather me up, and rinse me off.
Compensation: Getting me wet, lathering me up, and rinsing me off.

Position: To-Sleep-Singer
Description: Sing me to sleep. I like lullabies. And Dido... but don't tell anyone that.
Compensation: You can crash in the bed.

 The above listed positions will remain open until filled. We are not an equal opportunity employer.

Sitting Down

My ass hurts. My legs hurt. My lower back hurts. Hell, even my elbows hurt. And, no, it's not from every guy's dream of too much sex.

It's from sitting down all fucking day, every day, for the last two weeks.

You see, while I'm home I either watch TV or fiddle around on this piece-of-junk computer. While I'm work I'm either sitting in my truck, driving around, or sitting in a sound booth doing crap. Sure, there are those occasional breaks of standing Foley work and the PA run-around-all-day jobs, but it's been a while since I've had a PA position.

Okay, so I can play with my dogs, right? Well, given their slow decline back into being feral, that becomes a health-risk unto itself, and never lasts long. Combined with the fact that I no longer live near open desert or out-of-the-way canyons, I can't even hike with them anymore.

So what do I do? Well, like I said, TV and computer. Which means I do absolutely nothing productive. Oh, sure, I write, but I haven't been able to type anything significant as of late, and the imagination has been reeling... probably due to a combination of sitting all day, bad diet, complete lack of exercise, and smoking a pack of cigarettes every day. By the way, the previous blog was an attempt at "character-building" for a story that clearly went awry. But, hey, at least now I'm trying.

I'm just sick of sitting down.

And the Winds are Blowing... ?

Okay, so here I am in Wilmington. No job, no dogs (well, one... but I should have three), no social life, no nothing. Seriously, I literally have nothing material, save for this laptop and an old Army cot. Not that I mind, of course... I'm a little attracted to the idea of being able to leave at a moment's notice.

Anyway, so here I am in Wilmington. Coming to Wilmington was a bit of a stretch. I knew it was an overrated film town to begin with, but I had my reasons for coming, and most of them have or are coming to fruition. All that said, I have once again discovered my love for being on the go.

So, here I am in Wilmington, wondering where the Hell I'm going to go next. I have several options: return West, either back to Los Angeles or to Las Vegas; go to Texas and try to latch onto the next season of Prison Break; go to Vancouver and try to latch onto the next season of Battlestar Galactica (difficult, as Canadian film regulations make it hard for non-Canadian's to get below-the-line work); rejoin the active Army and go to Iraq or Afghanistan with my friends; sign up for Halliburton (gasp) or KBR and get overpaid to go to Iraq or Afghanistan; go to Japan and work with an old friend in the Japanese film industry, or just drive until I get sick of driving and stop somewhere random (I particularly like this choice... don't know why).

But, here I am in Wilmington. Wondering and waiting as the itch to wander grows slowly but surely. Should I stay? Or should I go?

Hmm... guess I'll keep wondering and waiting.

The Whirlwind

Reap the whirlwind... whoa...

GM (yes, that GM) offered me a job... don't really want to take it, but it's good money and might allow me to transfer to Los Angeles.

My little independent film script is generating some interest... crazy. Seems too good to be true, which means it probably is.

One of my scripts, Theorem, was just labeled as "blockbuster material" by a Hollywood reader. Does this bode well for my screenwriting future? Is it a fluke/flash-in-the-pan? Spin me around and... well, never mind...

Just applied to graduate school at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. The first of two intended Masters degrees... the second I want to get from the University of California, Los Angeles. What can I say? I'm vain and I think the MFA, MFA on my business card would look cool.

More reality TV show jobs are coming my way... maybe... and it's another maybe if I can take them or not... double maybes? Probably not good... as in double not good. Fuck me.

If I move to Vegas, I've got a place to live, but I have to ditch my dogs... that's going to seriously suck. I get to keep my cats, though... provided they don't run away before then.

Have a court date on the 30th. Wish me luck in staying out of jail. No, really... wish me luck in staying out of jail.

Have a physical on the 29th. Wish me luck in increasing my VA disability. I like free money. Don't lie, you do, too. You just won't like my free money as much as I will.

Trying to join an Army Reserve unit in Bell, California. It's in spitting distance from LA (literally... you can spit to Bell from Los Angeles) and involves a $15k bonus. I should probably bite my tongue and sign the fucking contract, shouldn't I?

Got a new cell phone plan (finally). If you have Sprint PCS, call me... it's free now.

About 20 pages from finishing another script. CIA thriller... I like it. I think it's better than Theorem, which means it probably sucks.

The Departed is the best movie I've seen all year and the second Scorsese movie in a row to really and truly affect me.

Somebody save me (and by somebody, I mean a beautiful, intelligent, talented, and sexy woman who will buy me Chargers season tickets next year... provided she's employed and not in grad school, in which case I'll buy the tickets myself and bring her with me).

Life is a whirlwind... and what a fun ride it's been so far...

Leaving

For the second time this year, I left a job in the film industry. Yeah, this time was just a little PA work, but it was still on a set, was still an awesome time, and is still what I want to do on a permanent basis. But, I left. Not because I wanted to, mind you, but because I couldn't stay on the production for whatever reasons.

Anyway, as I was driving back to the drudgery of the so-called real world, I was hit with sort of an epiphany... leaving, and by that I mean leaving anything, really sucks. Even when where you're at is a really bad spot or who you're with is a really shitty person, leaving still sucks... well, fundamentally anyway. Why? Shit, I don't know... maybe it has something to do with a subliminal recognition of "touch and go." Maybe it's something more, something less... I don't fucking know. I just know that leaving sucks.

It's a good thing that arriving really kicks ass, or we'd be one pathetic species.

But leaving still sucks.

The Great American Reluctant Job Search

Not sure how much back story is needed here, but most of you know that my budding film career has been reluctantly put on hold. As I try to recover $14,000 from a certain spiteful person (and that's just what's actually owed, never mind the peripheral costs of not having that money), I've been forced to forgo Southern California and attempt to rebuild my bank accounts by, ugh, working.

Funny thing, though... call it an epiphany of sorts... as I began perusing Monster.com, CareerBuilder.com, and the local newspapers for job openings, I started to realize that I don't qualify for anything. I mean, since high school I've done nothing but the military and college. That might sound like a basis for something, but as I'm a firm believer in doing something in the Army that you can't do anywhere else, I've cornered myself in a job market that has little use for a demolitions expert that jumps out of airplanes. And, quite naturally, my college career was rather meticulously designed to support a career in filmmaking. And, quite unfortunately, the filmmaking industry is rather hard to break in to if not in Los Angeles or a few other select locations in the United States.

So, here I am, a guy with two bachelor degrees, an unrelated associate degree, and nine years military experience applying to be an "admin assistant" or a stockboy at a grocery store. And, so far, to no avail. I guess my resume sucks.

The moral of this story? Get qualified in a real job (like accounting or information technology) before trying to follow your dream. And when you do finally decide to give your dream a whirl, make sure insane self-absorbed pieces of shit don't have access to your assets.

And don't give up. Ever.