I've Seen What I'd Have To Blog To Stop Men Like Him

3...2...1... -nah, just kidding. Too early.

Happy holidays from Hancock International Airport in Syracuse, New York. My stinkin' puddle jumper seems to have spurred its last spaw, because my flight's been delayed. Hopefully not too late, or I'll miss my connection in Philadelphia, arrive late in Los Angeles, hang up my transportation, not pick up the dog I'm sitting, etc. etc. So it's a little bit imperative that somebody figures something out and we all get where we're trying to go.

Given that it's very nearly 2010, I think it's time to take a look back through the year and see what went right and what went wrong. So here goes.

JANUARY: I moved to Los Angeles, though still a student, and began studying with ICLA. I took up an internship with Open Road Films, and wound up with a boom mike and a really solid crew credit on their upcoming feature film, Bold Native.

FEBRUARY: Lived at Oakwoods and loved the sun and 80 degrees. Also enjoyed my first In-n-Out Burger and Bob's Big Boy (perhaps a little *too* much). Also sorted out the bus system swiftly.

MARCH: March is the first-ever International Nicolas Cage Day, which me and my colleagues enjoyed. I lost my phone, but gained Guitar Hero. It completed me. I also almost got thrown out of my apartment for lighting an alien ship on fire in the yard. Apparently they take open flames extremely seriously in California.

APRIL: I met Cory Edwards in person for lunch, and we had a good talk. Also shot my last Rootclip, which performed pathetically (despite being made overnight in a matter of hours). I also performed my Nicolas Cage impression for the writer of his film, Face/Off, but accidentally busted out Hayden Christiansen instead and made a total fool of myself. Fail.

MAY: I came back to New York and graduated. My degree is fairly worthless, but I miss Ithaca College, anyway. I also got word that Kelly Services had more (high-paying) transcription for me, that would last all summer, but it turns out it didn't.

JUNE: An unsuccessful month of trying to get work. Nate scored a job that kept him quite busy, ruining my hopes and dreams of shooting a solid indie feature. I wrap up The Fungus-Ridden Collection Volume 3.

JULY: Another depressing month of no work. Though I apply for basic positions, my ability to be hired deteriorates with the oncoming departure date for California.

AUGUST: The wildest month of my life, possibly. I moved to California. I gave away my parrot in an unexpected twist. I lived with Allen DiBenedetto for two weeks. I documented it all.

SEPTEMBER: My first month in LA. My housemates and I settled on a home, which was immediately burgled the night after moving in. My computer and some other electronics were taken. I began a job hunt, which (I didn't realize at the time) would continue for the remainder of the year. Also, my car dies.

OCTOBER: I got hired onto 'The Lie' as a professional production assistant, which was much different from what I had expected. I got very little sleep, lost a lot of weight, and discovered a new appreciation for everything in my life that had nothing to do with filmmaking. I also attended the wrap party with the rest of the cast and crew, and suddenly felt like it was all worth it. I also got my first-ever speeding ticket, for about $400.

NOVEMBER: Twentieth Century Fox TV hired me as a production assistant for their upcoming pilot, 'Keep Hope Alive.' I went in to fill out paperwork and lend a hand around the office for a couple days. I also received a copy of Flash, which I immediately started animating with.

DECEMBER: Dad fell out of a tree and fractured his hip, and Keep Hope Alive informed me that I would not PA on their show after all. The Falcon Punchathon raised record amounts of money, and I scored interviews and prospective positions with movie trailer companies. I visited home for the holidays, caught up mildly with friends, and came back to LA on New Year's Eve to ring in 2010.

Swell recap, right? A little boring maybe, but it's old news anyway. People on Facebook have read far more detailed accounts from my original LA journal entries. And besides, we all know I'm really just killing time waiting for an airplane to arrive.

My, What A Wonderful Blog You've Discovered!

Not only am I ready for 2009 to end, I think I'm ready to go back to California again. Not sure about all of you, but the holidays this year really beat the tar out of me. I'm normally a pretty festive guy, but I think all the excitement and joy of playing Christmas ran out early, and I'm instead playing "feed freezing chickens" and "sweep out chimneys."

I love my family -- I do -- but I prefer life in the suburbs booking appointments and chatting scripts, and will probably never understand the driving need to vanish into the countryside, out of cell service and forty minutes from the nearest Starbucks. And this 5-degrees-and-freezingly-windy needs to stop. I'll take my 50 degrees and slight breezes rippling the palm trees over clouds of face-melting acid snow gusting down from the treetops like some sort of attacking elemental hawk.

I seriously ran out of time much quicker than I thought I would. I had been hoping to stop by and see people, to maybe do some writing, finish a few videos, perhaps shoot a new one, play video games with my brother, watch Die Hard for Christmas (or at least Home Alone, or even Jim Carrey dressed as the Grinch), etc. When the holidays only come once a year -- and you love them more than any other day or season -- it can cause a blow to your emotions to come back and feel like they cheated right around you and left you picking up the wrapping paper.

I saw Watchmen again last night. It wasn't nearly as good as I remembered.

This Is One Doodle That Can't Be Unblogged, Home-Skillet.

Gotta love how I make up for lost blogging time over the last week of 2009, huh?

So tonight, I've put the finishing touches on a new, animated holiday short (link here!) My hopes to have it live by Christmas were sadly dashed amidst the chaos of hospital visits, making rent, taking interviews, and shopping for presents. But as I always like to say, better late than never, eh? And besides, with 2009 coming to a close, the net could use one last Fungus-Ridden hoorah before shifting pages to start accumulating films for our 2010 catalogue. 'Tis the season for last-minute surprise additions.

This short, like several other of my animations, features characters I first designed in high school (and who have made a few appearances ever since, in other clips, websites, and even a computer game!) The two I've used in this film are MR. BUSHHOG and MR. WIZARD. Mr. Bushhog is an adorable little ball of fur; he's got no arms and no mouth, but he's astonishingly capable considering. He originated as a side-kick, but came to the forefront when I discovered his undeniable cuteness made him an instant crowd-favorite. Mr. Wizard, even more sparsely-faced than Mr. Bushhog, was designed as an unlucky-but-lovable little hazard zone. Though he was once the sole subject of every unnatural fate, torment, and act of God, he's since taken up the spot of Supporting Character, and has instead become something of an oblivious bad luck charm for his furry, pig-nosed friend.

The initial animation file for this short had been tentatively called "Hog for the Holidays," but I couldn't come to grips with how idiotic that sounded. Plus, I suffer this massive, unjustified fear that Mr. Bushhog will keep the 'Hog nickname forever and turn into some sort of punk icon. On a related note, I'm interested in renaming him, but having difficulty doing it. He is, for certain, a bushhog... but he is not the *only* bushhog. In fact, there are reportedly scores of them, living in villages and running shops and riding buses... But he's the only one represented in my cartoons thus far. If I add new 'Hogs to the party, you'll have no trouble telling them apart. In the meanwhile, if you think of a good name for our little bushhog friend, be sure to pass it along for consideration! Nothing dumb like Muffins or Harry, though.

Speaking of which, this is my third cartoon short starring Mr. Bushhog and I'm looking to expand the universe. The cast of characters is actually much more expansive than just Mr. Wizard and Mr. Bushhog. I'm essentially at a crossroads as to which direction the next cartoon goes in. A set of storyboards in my desk suggests that the bushhog's next appearance will be at a barber shop, and that a new side character named Mr. Pirate will make a brief appearance. On the other hand, I'm very interested in pursuing an alternate episode taking place at the carnival, which would highlight another major character yet to be seen in any of my animations: Chainsaw the Clown, who's about as helpful and safe as his name implies. I'd like to tackle both shorts eventually, but for now, I'll be testing and considering the production of both.

Happy holidays!

My Boy, We're Pilgrims In An Unholy Blog!

Merry Christmas, everybody!

Just some pinches of current news: no job offer yet from Ignition Creative, but I'm remaining hopeful and determined. Whether a position awaits me there or not, I have the drive and commitment to continue dropping in on radars all over Los Angeles, and with 2010 comes the promise of renewed work. It's all a waiting game, and maybe also a surviving game.

I saw that another terrorist attempted an attack flying into Detroit today, and it really made my blood boil. I can't imagine boarding a plane with the intent of killing two-hundred Americans on board, for no purpose but to maim and destroy and upset others. How can any human be so wretched? Such an abominable act of barbaric hatred and baseless malice. As much as I like to support mercy and "taking the high road," I can't help but feel a scumbag like this deserves to be taken off this planet. An individual who will attempt the mass murder of two-hundred civilian strangers is not an individual earning his right to utilize our limited resources and procreate offspring. He's an individual who has proven incapable of even obeying the most simple and understood laws of nature and morality. I don't consider this a matter of education; I consider this a matter of evil.

It certainly tempts me to build myself a solid Iron Man suit and go pummel some thugs hiding in caves on the other side of the world. Starting with the flea-bitten jackals holding our soldier hostage in Afghanistan. Though my vengeful heart should strive to be caring, I can't deny a certain bloodlust for seeing those buttholes smeared all over their cave walls. It may not be justice, but I'd say killers violate their right to it once they clearly fail to honor it.

Wow, what a pissed off post for Christmas. I blame corporate media, because it seems to be the hip and trendy thing to do at the moment.

I'm counting down the last week (or so) before my plane back to Los Angeles. As of now, I'm torn between wanting to get back to my house (and work, and Flash, and a certain tub full of unhealthy snacks that prove poor for my waistline), and wanting to stay here in New York longer. Or at least, long enough to find my old friends, visit some old haunts, and pretend some broken fragment of my high school life still exists. It's funny; I don't understand the common hatred so many people have for their "high school years." I look back on my school -- and my town, really -- quite fondly. There's always some bad mixed with the good, but in general, I have a huge appreciation for the people of my town, whether I lived with them, worked with them, studied with them, or learned from them. I may be a little extra sentimental or biased right now, since the holiday decorations look soooooooo nice downtown (as they do every year).

I reaffirmed to myself the other day that I definitely -- definitely -- want to contribute funds to the Peck Memorial Library at some point, once I have a bit more wealth than one single guy needs. That library holds no special place in my heart... but its ancient, abandoned opera house upstairs is a historical monument and town novelty that I, for one, would love to see renovated and reopened. How many towns can boast a real-life opera house from the 1800's? The library owners were generous enough to allow me to shoot there largely unsupervised on one picture, so I feel an extra sense of both connection and debt to the place. It truly is a remarkable landmark, and one that I feel responsible for saving.

May 2010 prove to be the year in which I can begin my undying crusade to revive the Peck Memorial Opera House to its former, magnificent condition.

A Poweful Blogger, You Will Become!

In the strained and barely-performed words of Hayden Christiansen, "What have I DONE?"

When I boarded my plane at Los Angeles International yesterday, the temperature was floating in the balmy rafters of 60 degrees. And when I exited to change flights in Chicago, it was a frosty 28 degrees. Who knew it was only getting worse from there?

I'm now home in Marathon (now officially "Cincinnatus," as a sign post has since been erected right in front of my house proclaiming the town boundary), and the barometer is reading 21 degrees. Weather.com helpfully suggests that it "feels like 5."

SANTA, THIS IS *YOUR* FAULT! >:O

In other news, I grossly underestimated how many pairs of clothes I left here when I moved. Turns out, I'm stuck wearing size XL t-shirts with giant, obnoxious designs on them, and the same pair of underwear four days in a row.

The good news is, we have dogs here, and my AWROOO screeches are in overdrive. That's substantially refreshing. And lest they be forgotten from this blog, my family's here, too. Other than my dad, who's still in the hospital. But that's close enough.

Blogging Is For Droids!

I had a realization that if I don't keep updating my blog, the month will pass with only one post, and that is something I cannot abide in.

The holidays are fast approaching and my lack of wallet contents is making coming up with presents particularly tricky this year. I fortunately had the fore-knowledge (cough, not really) to stock up on horrifically bad movies throughout the year, so my Giftables collection is satisfactorily plump. However, bad horror flicks are not appropriate gifts for all.

This circumstance has made me especially cognitive of and thankful for my God-given blessing of unyielding creativity, matched with talent I can't credit myself with generating. As I think of my situation, I realize that I am a particularly well-suited individual (so far as humans go) for the challenge of designing meaningful and enjoyable gifts from scratch. All the necessary elements -- clever ideas, ample time, professional knack, and technical resources -- are completely accessible to me, which means I can not only give out presents that still matter, but that they can also be produced for virtually nothing but a little work and a lot of time.

And here you thought Thanksgiving ended three weeks ago...

Before I launch into any extraneous lectures (the limit's one per blog), I need to do a quick Picture Preview. Up In The Air looks banal, Alvin's Squeakquel looks horrendous, Avatar looks mediocre, It's Complicated looks tedious, and Sherlock Holmes makes me furious. Look at those smug smirks on the faces of Robert Downy and Jude Law, pasted all over Hollywood on billboards and posters. Yuck. They had so much fun making that movie. Without me. "Your day will come," sneers Robert Downy's grinning chin from the Highland billboards. "In about NINE THOUSAND YEARS!"

Hey, before I sign off, I watched Ninja Assassin last week. What a complete and dismal use of a movie title, and three hundred stunt men dressed as ninjas. It seems like it'd be impossible to screw up a movie called Ninja Assassin, and I don't know how to say this, but... they definitely screwed it up. Not the enjoyable train wreck of cheesy wire work, bad dialog, and ninja fights that I was expecting.

Okay, now bye.

You Don't Need A Blog To Drive A Sandwich

Amidst a lot of things, I've found a chance to update my blog. Granted, at 2 o'clock in the morning, but still a chance to update my blog.

Today came with news that dear old Pops fell out of a tree while doing some yard work and endured some significant damage to his hips. Two fractures, I believe, as last reported. The medics want him off his feet for potentially six weeks, but he's the kind of guy that really doesn't take doctors' orders very well. At this moment, though, it would appear he doesn't have a lot of choice. Thankfully, it's smack at the start of winter, and aside from hunting and cutting firewood, he's not got a lot of exciting stuff to be taking care of out of the house, anyway. He's got the makings of a grizzled old warrior anyhow. Ah, the benefits of having an adventurous father...

Here on the homefront, I'm developing some paranoia about this Fox comedy pilot I'm supposedly starting this coming week. My primary concern is in that I haven't yet been contacted regarding schedules or sides or set up or anything of the sort. My start paperwork is all in, so it's just about waiting for the word 'Go.' But then, there's always that shadow of doubt that, in Hollywood, you *can* be forgotten, and you *can* be replaced, and you *will* end up on street corners begging for money. So getting a bit of confirmation about this pilot would definitely clinch a bit brighter spirits here... but no word so far.

The Falcon Punchathon was two nights ago, and we again hosted a successful spread of events in cities on both American coasts. Our funding improved, too; on Friday night alone, we accumulated over $200 to donate to children's hospitals, which was a substantial hop from our previous record (made possible by the addition of our friends at RIT and their contributions).

Today, while waiting for an appointment, I decided to stop at Salvation Army and check furniture. What I ended up with instead were seasons 1 and 4 of The Simpsons on DVD. Call it impulse, but the fact that they were there -- and tax-free, and no shipping -- made me spring. And I've also been doing a lot of animation lately, so pulling in extra role model material (particularly the pioneers of family comedy) didn't seem such a bad idea, either. And after all, let's just be honest: I really, really love The Simpsons. Who doesn't? It's a good, solid show with good, solid characters. They maintain that certain childhood nostalgia that everyone somehow relates to.

As much as I prefer movies over television, that's a show I'd be more than satisfied working on the rest of my life. Assuming it's on that long.

Shoot Him Again! His Blog Is Still Dancing!

Ughghghghghgh.

I seem to have come down with something nasty, and it's making me feel like crap today. Coupled with the fact that I'm "caught between jobs" and also a major holiday, it's going to be a complicated few weeks.

I also got news from Nintendo last week that they will NOT support our children's charity, which was kind of devastating. Like they couldn't afford to pitch us a couple hundred bucks for hospitals. Fssssh. Whatever, we'll keep raising it ourselves anyway.

I've been really struggling to write lately, and part of it is because I have a perfectionist attitude. I've heard time and again, "Just skip the hard parts and keep going. Come back to them later -- don't let them freeze you up." But the thing is, I'm recalling the last major screenplay I was at work on and how I hit a major snag early in and tried exactly that. "Let's just power through with whatever comes out and keep moving." But here's what happened: I ended up writing story events that I don't think are probably effective, and a full scene of the most painful dialog I've ever written. Seriously, it makes me cringe every time I glance at it, because I can't believe what a capacity I have to write bad work when I'm in an "off" mood. How can I move on with the rest of the screenplay when there's an absolute groaner of a scene back toward the beginning, and certain events may later hinge on it?

So that's my dilemma. My guess is that I should "keep writing" anyway... but, like I said, I don't even want to open that notebook knowing some of what's inside right now. It's shameful and awful and would be better off not existing, and that's a risk I'm too scared to take: making work that not only doesn't live up to my expectations, but also makes people DISpleased. It's an awkward psychological phobia that I'm kind of still working on. -_-; I think I need to lose it to be a successful writer.

On the flip side, my editing seems to be faring fine right now, and I just recorded a new song the other day for a DVD menu. It's about the goofiest song I've worked on, so I'm excited to discover how it turns out once my post prod partner gets done with it. This one plays with something new I've not tried before: a capella/barber shop music where all instruments are replaced with human voices.

I find that music incredibly irritating, which is precisely why I thought it'd fit this DVD so well. I'll try to make the song public once it's done.

I'm A Blogger, Not A Scientist!

Butternuts.

After two days of office work for Fox's new comedy, "Keep Hope Alive," I'm on relative hiatus until the shoot starts in December. And that, of course, means free time... which, unfortunately, does not at all translate to "rest" or "relax."

I've recently undergone a surge of renewed interest in video games, which is absolutely terrible given the point of life I'm in and what I'm trying to do. Video games have become an absolute Time- and Soul-Sucker. They eat up time like candy, because they're so gosh-darn addicting... and they suck up souls because, well, how else can I write well when I'm distractedly wishing I was playing Mario right now?

Wow. I really wish I was playing Mario right now...

Of course, I'm somewhat happy to embrace my return to nerdship again, too. I really didn't like myself when I backed off games as long as I did; it just didn't feel right, to not get antsy looking over box art or flipping through strategy guides. AJ Pinkerton was not meant to be immune to their charms; he was made to love games and play them, and after going fairly cold for many moons, it's been a welcome refresher to emotionally open up to them again.

Of course, now there's eight months backlogged on store shelves, and no budget for fun and games around this pad. That sounds pretty close to the glory days, actually. Tradition lives forever.

Prepare Blog For Ludacris Speed!

I've been recently watching several of my lower-budget indie movies, as a way of looking for both inspiration and advice on making my break as a director. Tonight, the inevitable happened: I turned to Sam Raimi's Evil Dead II.

I find myself presently unsure still whether it's shockingly stellar or horribly awful. I think part of my confusion comes from watching the behind-the-scenes footage and discovering things like puppeteering wires, goofy dummy corpses, and rotten fat suits with major revealing holes in the butt. And yet, for all these obvious imperfections, I'm still pretty mesmerized with most everything else -- the camera work, the performances, the make up and prosthetics, Raimi's own clever solutions to filming the impossible. And he was so young, too! I'm either in complete awe and respect of him, or terribly jealous.

So now I'm here with notebook open, pondering over new "simple" movie ideas I can pull off with minimal equipment, minimal budget, and minimal help. Coming up with a simple story -- no effects, no stunts, few people -- is certainly not in my genetic make-up.

It's time to be extra special.

Your Blogs Are The Cancer Of This Planet, And We Are The Cure

Today was the first time in a very, very long time -- possibly ever -- where the day started out so hideously that I decided to go back to bed for several more hours.

It turns out that my recently-obtained traffic ticket -- the first of my life -- is commanding a $290 fee. Add to that a $60 fee to take online traffic school and a third fee to update my (valid) drivers license to CA standards, and you've got one irritable AJ with not enough money to invest in Adobe Flash any longer. And I've been very eager to get my hands on that and resume my animation work for quite a while now.

There have been no calls from either Insomniac Games or Square Enix today, either, which also has me a bit sour. Being in their offices yesterday was incredible -- definitely a workplace to end all workplaces. It was half like being at a fresh, lemon-scented GameStop, and half like going to Heaven. Not a bad mix at all.

Tomorrow's looking like a trip to the DMV. "You won't find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy," in the wise words of Obi-Wan.

Life Here Ain't Worth A Blog Of Beans, Elsa

Wow. What an unhappy Halloween.

So on top of a miserable Jack o Lantern fail (picture soon, hopefully), and a pathetic costume fail, and a lack of trick-or-treating and partying, I topped off the night with an unsuccessful hunt for missing video footage and the lame discovery that, of the two major projects I'm still devoting editor's attention to, one is missing key audio and the other probably needs to a full editing overhaul in order to achieve the effect I need.

And to think, I gave up a night of bad horror movies and video games to make these discoveries.

Once again, Macintosh proves to be a total anus about cooperating with my lust for file types, and without hunting down old freeware and trialware that I'd armed my last lappy with, I can rest assured that nothing will work properly. I'd whine and ask why life feels the need to be so darn difficult... but had I put in a DVD four hours ago, I'd have found that sometimes, it isn't. Sigh.

Church tomorrow -- a place I haven't been at in two weeks, which I feel bad about. Go figure, I'm already drained from just facing the day (and missing all expectations) and trying to find corners to cut in enjoying my day tomorrow. Probably what I need most right now is sleep, but I hate giving up on the day and going to bed without achieving some form of victory. Like running away to bed is actually solving anything. But I think tonight, I don't want to deal with .asf and .ogg and .idon'tloveyou and .thiscan'tbeopened.

Bibbity Bloggity Boo!

It's not that I don't want to blog. Honestly, I do. It's that I don't got time.

So I've recently been on the production of The Lie, an independent feature based on short story by T.C. Boyle and starring Joshua Leonard (The Blair Witch Project, Hump Day). LOOOOOONG hours, LOOOOOOW pay, but otherwise rewarding in its own right. There's some great people on crew and we've already hit some legendary locations (including an overnight shoot at the REAL Camp Crystal Lake from Friday the 13th, Part 3). And the best part is my short animation ("The Nosy Spider") is featured in one scene. Now THAT'S exposure! That all said, though, part of me isn't sure what to think anymore about movies.

This is a lot of trouble for a mostly-improvised movie, with no explosions or car chases or gun fights. How much more daunting can one of those movies be?

Enter animation. The golden format. No actors; no cameras; no lights. No laws of physics. No safety precautions. No location permits. Just cute characters, family fare, silly scripts, and fast-track 3D. And at a third of the cost of Spider-Man. Now that's what I call movie-making.

Gad, I need to get Flash back...

Do You Understand The Words That Are Coming Out Of My Blog?

Greetings from the NEW MAC!

Awwww yeah. OS X 10.6.1 now, and looking SHARP in black keys and trim. Also boosted processing power and hard disk space, which makes a man extra happy. And updated copies of Final Cut, Compressor, Motion, Color, DVD Studio, and even Garage Band? Looks like Santa's been down MY chimney...

(No perverse comments to that)

And of course, with great power comes great blogs. I mean, responsibility. Now that I've got an upgraded Mac and some software to run, it's time to get back into the video vaults and edit new material. Nothing's gotten started yet, but once my music library is back up and running, I'll take on a few new projects (and a lot of old ones).

Also, I've been on set this week -- or rather, building what will become the set -- and it's looking optimistic for continued future work. Making lots of contacts who are busy with their own films and looking for help, so I may finally have a mobile web to bounce from one picture to the next. Let's hope this business doesn't slow down any further, or I could go senior citizen before I make it to the director's chair...

Harry! You're A Blogger!

So what's the score now?

Word won't let me update my resume.

Yahoo won't let me update my website.

Final Draft won't let me update my screenplay.

MacDrive won't let me update my license.

Blogger won't let me update my blog. Maybe.


Forget you guys. I'm going to Disneyland tomorrow.

I've Got My Blog On You!

I'll be honest about this:

Now that my Mac is gone, I have absolutely no idea what movie quotes I've already used as Blog Titles and which ones I haven't. Cause without my Mac's special ability to save the old text I've entered in that box, and without the energy to look through my old posts, I'm completely screwed.

Beyond that bit, nothing new or impressive in the world. Still jobless; still unloved. I met with an alum today for drinks (NON-ALCOHOLIC-) and we chitter-chattered about the industry more. It's coming to my attention more and more that I should be writing (a screenplay, not my blog), but I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. The energy and utter fail waiting in the wings just stalls me out each time.

My current situation is this plague of a screenplay idea, where the main character ends up joining this insane sports league that no human being should ever be part of. And the trick is, I have to determine a NEED. WHY would this guy get involved with a sport like this? I've made a list of reasons why, and so far, they're all total crap. Because the true answer is, HE WOULDN'T. HE'D GO HOME, SIT ON THE COUCH, AND WATCH LENO AT 10.

But wow, that's a terrible twist for the screenplay. So in order to give the audience what it wants, this guy's gotta decide to join the league. And that means *I* gotta figure out why.

You guys should stop being so demanding.

Batman Has No Blogs...

Wow. I love how incredibly optimistic and enthusiastic all my Facebook statuses have recently become.

Observe the trend:



August 18th: AJ Pinkerton was stopped at the California border today. Yoshi is apparently a non-native invasive species in the state of California and therefore may not enter the state. He moves to an adoption center for parrots in Phoenix tomorrow morning. Happy frickin birthday.

August 26th: AJ Pinkerton FAILS AT IRONING! >:O This is why God made girls

August 29th: AJ Pinkerton sans house, job, pet, and patience: miserable curmudgeon extraordinaire.

September 2nd: AJ Pinkerton is SICK OF GETTING HONKED AT / HIGH-BEAMED. IF YOU HATE MY LOS ANGELES DRIVING, GET OUT OF YOUR CAR TO TELL ME SO I CAN AT LEAST RUN YOU OVER. >:#

September 8th: AJ Pinkerton was welcomed to the neighborhood by someone who broke into his house and stole his Mac, iPod, and digital camera. It's the thought that counts.

September 11th: AJ Pinkerton is impressed. Only one murder and four rapes in his neighborhood this week. Crime apparently *does* call in sick...

September 16th: AJ Pinkerton 's college mail has finally -- officially -- bitten the dust.

September 20th: AJ Pinkerton just found more old photos of his parrot and ignited his vengeance against California once again. How about keeping fricken robbers out of my house instead of beloved pets?

September 21st: AJ Pinkerton thinks that if life's gotta be a roller coaster, then he'd rather it be a kiddy one. The kind that looks like a big caterpillar and goes in circles, and just has little bumps in it.

September 23rd: AJ Pinkerton thinks California should've just handed him a "We Hate You; Go Away" packet when he first arrived, so at least he could keep track of all the documentation.


On the plus side, I don't quite qualify as Emo. On the downside, I'm pissed off all the time. It's an awkward trade.

While I'm blogging, how about this little story: to make up for my iPod being snatched, I picked up a (GET THIS!) portable CD player for my car instead, and a bunch of blank CDs to make mixes out of. I went home and got right to work on the first one: BADASS MUSIC FOR THE FAINT OF HEART, so I can at least feel dark and scary and brood in honking traffic to something angry and sinister playing. BUT...

The CDs don't work. I don't mean, they don't sound right, or they bend too easily, or they don't fly well when you throw them. I mean, plain and simply, that you can't do anything with them. Neither the computer nor the CD player will touch them.

Blank CDs. CD-Rs, more technically. You know, the kind that have been around since the 90's.

I found it funny that I was even buying them, as I've grown far more accustomed to picking up hard drives, or packs of DVDs at least, than writable CD media. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and I needed music. But who would have thought that here, in 2009, at a Los Angeles Staples, I could lay down $8 on a pack of CD-Rs that get less response from my computer than when I jam a piece of buttered toast in the disc drive.

(Maybe I should try saving my playlist onto some buttered toast...)

Just to verify that the discs, and not my drive, were the problem, I borrowed a disc from a roommate and it worked like a charm. So the story has a happy ending -- I have BADASS MUSIC FOR THE FAINT OF HEART for my drive to get a smog test tomorrow -- but I also have 50 blank CDs to do absolutely nothing with. Hot.

And then, while drowning my sorrows at Burger King, they screwed up every element of my three-item order. I didn't even bring any of it back.

We Are What We Choose To Blog

Today is the first day that I update my blog from my home. So greetings from the red shanty on 11th Avenue.

To mark my first (triumphant) blog post from home, I'm recapping the miserable list of mishappenings since I arrived in this state. Read closely; these events may very well end up in a pitiful Ben Stiller movie someday.

:::

Week 1: State of California issues a rejection notice upon my (attempted) entrance. Yoshi the parrot turns out to be an invasive non-native species.

Yoshi the parrot is put up for adoption in a Phoenix animal shelter, after ten years of commraderie. State of Jackassafornia inspects vehicle and allows my entrance.

:::

Week 2: Danny Gomez receives a copy of my resume on the CBS lot and immediately passes me on to the higher-ups. He asks for an email copy of my resume to share around.

I accidentally send Danny the wrong file. Instead of attaching my resume for him to share, I send a nasty letter to Ithaca College about the lack of industry training I received from them.

:::

Week 3: I spend my first night sleeping on the floor in the red house. In the morning, I go to breakfast with my housemates.

Red house gets broken into while I'm gone. Burglar steals my laptop, camera, and iPod. "Unknown suspect fled in unknown direction," writes a helpful police report.

:::

Week 4: My internship company invites me to attend an animal rights fund raiser at the Riviera Country Club on Sunset Boulevard. It's a black tie affair.

As I get dressed to leave, I discover that my tuxedo has a hole burned through it from the car ride across the country. I wear a nice shirt and tie instead.

:::

Week 5: I discover, in the midst of applying for auto insurance, that I have been giving out the wrong house address for weeks.

I make some desperate calls to reroute a paycheck being mailed to the wrong house.

:::

Week 6: ... (in progress) ...

Blog Like A Butterfly, Sting Like A Bee!

So, I have a house. I did not tell you that last, but I do. It's small and red, Spanish and cute, and it's very cozy and has a beautiful color scheme between its red walls and green lawn. The neighborhood is generally relaxed and friendly, about fifteen minutes south of Hollywood and five from Beverly Hills. I have a private back entrance, an effective ceiling-mounted fan, a flat roof accessible from indoors, and (I assume) a grand view of the Hollywood sign from there. Not bad, LA. Not bad.

So the housing hunt is over and our rent has begun, but that doesn't say much for the job search yet. Nobody's been calling, although I have numbers for upcoming productions shooting locally. Cory Edwards (yesterday) wrote that major financiers are now interested in backing Fraggle Rock, which means the budget may finally be together and production can green-light! That's good for me, as I'm looking for a big project to get hired onto and, having already met Cory, it'd be a much easier film to get a jump onto than most.

By the same token, Beard Srinivasan tells me that Spider-Man 4 is shooting at Columbia this winter -- which is ideal for me, as I live about ten minutes from Columbia's studios now. Besides, someone online once claimed I reminded him stylistically of Sam Raimi. We were meant for each other, obviously, and Spider-Man 4 would also be a great "starting" project to work on.

Pictures of my house coming soon. Yayyayay.

But Why Is The Blog Gone?

Haha. I love a good Fail. Especially the kind that usually end up on the FML boards.

Remarkably enough, Danny Gomez contacted me by phone this morning to say he wanted a copy of my resume on email; he had friends on other productions who were looking for someone, and apparently my name had stuck with him. Go figure! Mr. Hustle himself pulled through for me after all!

So I eagerly got on my email and shuttled him my resume, along with a brief message about having just started watching Tracey Ullman's State of The Union and enjoying its comedy.

Twenty minutes later, it dawned on me that I didn't attach my resume. I attached my complaint letter to Ithaca College about having not received a competitive education from them and being ill-equipped to launch a successful career in the entertainment industry.

omr. Danny, don't open that. Please don't forward it to everyone you know who needed a production assistant, either. It's the wrong file. I'm an idiot, I know.

Life's little ironies. It likes to pee on your leg from time to time and run away snickering.

Read This Blog Lightly, The Council Does Not

I was at CBS handing out resumes a day or two ago, and because most of the production offices aren't labeled (and because I don't watch any TV shows anyway), I made a questionably poor decision to blindly walk into buildings and feign competency by saying, "Are you guys accepting resumes for PAs on the show?"

I have no idea what shows I've applied to now, but if I get a phone call from Wayne on "Hickory Maud's Hussie Women Diaries," I'll know how it happened.

After I had handed many out and was stumbling around lost on the lot, some guy (from the office for "Greek," I think) found me on the lot later and got really excited and said, "Andy? Right, Andrew! Do you know Tom Pistol? No? Okay, well, go to that building there, go to room 360, and ask for Tom Pistol. And you tell him that Danny Goldman sent you and he says you're The Hustle!"

I got really excited, cause I had no idea what any of that meant, except he told me Tom Pistol was Executive Producer of something or whatever. So I ran away and immediately forgot everything he had just said, and proceeded to mess up every name AND the message:

"Is Tom Pistol here?"

"Right here."

"Hi, Mr. Pistol! My name is Andrew Pinkerton! Danny Goldman sent me up here-"

"Gomez."

"Yeah, Danny Gomez. Sure. And he sent me up here to your office. I, uh... I think he said I was The Hustle..."

A really long, really awkward pause. Then Tom says:

"I don't know what that means."

"Oh... Really?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know what it means, either. I was, uh, hoping you'd get it."

"I don't."

"...well, I gave him a resume. So maybe I'm just supposed to give one to you."

"We're fully staffed right now."

"Uh huh. I figured. Here you go."

And then I smiled prettily, choked out a nervous laugh, and thanked him for his time before I scampered out of the room with the rest of my resumes.

And then I sulked sheepishly in the elevator the whole way down, and darted past the desk lady in the lobby to the CBS Take 5 Cafe, where I begrudgingly paid $1.89 for a 20 oz. bottle of Coca-Cola to drown my humiliation and sorrows in.

I Want To Read A Little Blog With You...

*DEJECTION!*

;_;

(you know a blog post is going to be good when it starts like that)

I just got back from checking out my first house in LA, after a long day of scheduling appointments and trying to jive industry professionals into giving me a job. One landlord told me she didn't want "a bunch of college boys" living in the house, even though I tried to explain we had graduated from a university in New York and were pursuing professional careers. Sigh.

And is it just me, or is this town really into the practice of, um, kicking people's shins out and then running over them with a car (generally something that costs $50,000 or above)? I'm getting this trippy vibe -- and correct me if you're not feeling it -- that everybody here *gasp* already hates you and hopes you either leave or die. Anyone? Just me? Yeah, maybe I'm bringing it on myself (I got that even in New York, from friends), but I get the distinct impression that Hollywood is built upon the bones of everyone the successful have cannibalized over eighty years of two-faced viciousness and heart-breaking. The good die young here... and the bad go work at Warner Brothers.

I kid, sort of. I'm not really mad at anyone in particular for anything in particular; just mostly miserable. This housing thing is fast becoming a fiasco. "I NEED PROOF OF INCOME TO LIVE SOMEWHERE? SERIOUSLY?" I just moved here from New York. Where the $*&%@ am I supposed to be getting income from? Oh, get a job? I see, yes, that's easy, considering California's unemployment rate is 10% or higher right now, and I only pulled into town last Thursday. And lest we forget, employers would prefer to know you're living somewhere solid before hiring you, lest you be a tramp on the street or hiding out in a parked car every night.

I guess I'm also twitched tonight because I sit on another dilemma regarding employment conditions: a source I thought may provide work for me has instead presented the interesting situation of doing some free promotion for his pet project, in exchange for a potentially rewarding meeting with a studio higher-up. Great, right? Well, not bad, except some of the underlying details involve hanging out some old IC faculty to dry.

Now, everybody knows how incredibly heartless I am (cough) and how much I loathe an awful lot of curriculum at Ithaca College, especially in the way of how film is taught. Entering the crossroads now (also) is how mildly abandoned I'm feeling after graduating and basically getting a Goodbye Boot from the school, without any sort of directive on how to USE my 40 zillion dollar degree to get work. Kinda like their work was finished after they handed it to me and finished taking my money. After talking up their alumni and networking, though, I came to expect a little more name-dropping and phone-linking than that.

So here lies my pickle (a grosser statement has never been uttered by me). Much as I hate a lot of what IC tells me, I also gosh darn love the place for all the other reasons, and I naturally prefer to discuss the good and omit the bad, when given the option to. In this instance, mentioning the bad and omitting the good is the point in order, and while Ithaca College hasn't done an awful lot to merit either my money OR my presence, I can't help but have developed a minute loyalty to it. So criticizing it exclusively is not only less than pleasant, but also shades my night with some sensations of guilt. Fry my alma mater like an egg, huh? Yeaaaaaaaah, we'll see...

"Oh Ithaca, my Ithaca..."

I Could Squash You Like A Blog Right Now!

Congratulations. You're now reading blog posts from three hours in the future, as long as you're reading in New York (or Pennsylvania, or Delaware, or Maryland, or Connecticut, or Vermont, or New Hampshire, or Mississippi, but maybe not that one...)

My first day of career hunting went a little sour. Let's be blog. I mean, blunt. Getting hired for money is hard when hordes of students are looking to do the same job for free (or school credit). I don't know what I expected... "Oh, you say you want to work on Spider-Man 4? Why, you can just give us your name and we'll pass that right along to the right Magical People You Don't Know and they'll call you when they're ready to start shooting!"

Instead, it looks like -- as of now -- I'm on my own. I can "start" handing out resumes to production companies, if only I knew which ones were making movies and how to contact them. My internship company recommends "working for free for a few months" to build networks. Building a network is great, but living in a house and eating food sounds even better... I'm still saving my trump card -- a man named Mike Kehoe -- for possible big studio work, and if all else fails, I have my ultimate secret weapon: Cory Edwards and his upcoming Fraggle Rock movie, which I hope to have secured my position on if and when it ever reaches its production phase.

I've got some house hunting to do in the meanwhile, so I'm afraid the job search will have to wait a week or so. :<

We Just Keep Running Into Each Other, Don't We, Blog Rat?

You know what I hate?

People who don't realize that the left lane is only for passing other cars, or who don't care. Really, I thought it was universal knowledge, but I'm beginning to question how many states actually practice changing lanes to pass. I think I've passed as many drivers today on the inside lane as I have on the outside, because PEOPLE _ DON'T _ GET IT.

If you like to chug along in the passing lane at 65 or 70, blind to the world of 80 mph cars and vehicles piling up behind you, please wake up and change lanes to let others pass. Because you're making me really, really hate you.

Also, I really hate Oklahoma! That's an exclamation, not the play.

And Blogging Is Half The Battle!

Sorry, the blog has gotten the cold shoulder since I reached the one-week-away mark for leaving. I'm arriving in Los Angeles in about five days, which is seriously spooking me out. Somehow, it's a lot scarier when you're not going there for one semester, as a student, with the college structuring your experience. Now it's like, "I could die out there..."

My mom just came upstairs with four packets of homeless shelter information for me to store away, in case I "ever need it." That's super freakin comforting.

Otherwise, I'm wrapping up the last transcription assignments I've got for Cornell business professor Tony Simons, who's last book I worked on ("The Integrity Dividend") is still garnering attention out on the market. His next book (and these interviews) will focus more on behavioral integrity in the context of this economic downturn and how the recession may affect the morality of business leaders trying to get ahead. No word on when he plans to complete it or get it out on shelves.

I also woke up distraught three mornings in a row now, and I don't think it's because I'm moving to LA (although maybe that's affecting my dreams...) Three mornings ago, I snapped awake convinced that not only was I working for a volunteer global warming activist group, but that an old beastly woman working there had tried to molest me. Yesterday morning, I woke up believing I had caused a traffic pile-up and was trapped in a seedy apartment building (probably the kind I'll be living in when I get to California). And this morning, I was awoken by my alarm in the middle of a twisted dream where I was competing with a faceless figure for who could take more abuse to the groin. Yeah, seriously, that's what my dreams have come to: getting hit in the crotch over and over.

I gotta get out of here.

Never Start With The Blog! The Victim Gets All Fuzzy!

Whoo doggy. So I just discovered that -- really -- I'm about down to my last week. One week before time runs out and I gotta leave New York to find my fortune abroad (meaning, LA). I thought I'd be more excited, but really, I'm mostly just scared now. Scared that I have too much left to do here, that I can't do out there, and scared that I have too much to do out there, that I don't even know how to do here! Things like getting an apartment -- I have no experience doing that! What do all these hard words mean? Can't I just walk into a place with a sign on it, say "How much you want?", and hand some guy some money at a desk and start moving my things in? IS NOTHING THAT SIMPLE???

*Sigh*. One week. Just enough time to wrap out Batman and Spider-Man Save Christmas, maybe. I dunno what to do about the voices. Nobody's available enough to dub them all in. Nobody but me (and the one-voice-fits-all only applies to cartoons, by the way, and Eddie Murphy movies). Another bridge to cross when I arrive at it, I guess. I'm gonna set myself a goal and try to insert all the music -- all of it -- into the movie by tonight. Force some action, see where it heads.

I got a call today about new transcription jobs that have come in from the agency. Hallelujia. That means a little more money, and possibly even a trickle of income, for moving to Los Angeles. But that also means spending my time listening to recordings about proper business etiquette and not about Batman and Spider-Man escaping a toxic phone booth. You win some, you lose some, I suppose.

I've also been going over my new "industry" resume, because I was informed that companies would rather see volume of work, rather than descriptions. "Good for me," I thought, "I've got a ton of films to list." Except the more thought I've given this new resume, the more paranoid I am to include titles like "Batman and Spider-Man Save Christmas" on it. Seriously, will anyone at Warner Brothers take me seriously once I have a movie with a name like that listed on my resume? And what really ticks me off -- this is the best part -- is that if they only knew what the film looks like, they WOULD take me seriously! MUCH more seriously! Because as dumb and phony as it sounds, that film took WORK and AMBITION -- a lot more than you see in the average "Cigars and Suicide" or "Ryan's Last Rights" or "The Sneakers That Grandma Wore." Cause a film like Batman and Spider-Man isn't just a couple goofy kids giggling and running around in red and black t-shirts; this is tights and capes and cars and explosions and choreography and rotoscoping- Dismissing something like this is dismissing a piece of work that took a LOT more genius and creativity than the run-of-the-mill depressing student film so many resumes are full of. So it pains me to be omitting pieces like that, just because of the name.

Maybe I'll "tentatively rename" it to something simple, like 'Saving Christmas,' and include it anyway.

Now to think up names for "Revenge of the Banana" and "Saw Zer0."

Bill, It's Your Blog-

Whoosh. One week by, without an entry. In my defense, I at one point attempted an entry, but found myself unable to coax forth any better blogging than a childish essay about Final Fantasy.

Speaking of which, my little brother and I have finally met our crystal caravan's match: the limits of time. While we spent many a late evening and early morning marching our virtual party toward conquering the planet, we found ourself stymied by the secrets of a place called Mag Mell (a weirder city has never existed) and were ultimately unable to complete our mission and finish off the entire game before he left for summer camp -- an event that will last two weeks, up until the very day I leave the state. Sadly, the game will never see our knock-off Justice League emerge victorious.

On top of the geekdom, I'm still wrapping up a bunch of films before I head out of state (for good), one of which is the long-anticipated Batman and Spider-Man Save Christmas. Yahoo tells me they're taking down my Fungus-Ridden site in October, so a priority now is to update and backup each page before I leave, so (with the help of an LA Prog Beard) I can set up a new server Apache-style in LA and keep the site online. And of course, I'm still revisiting my Thesis, and trying to undo the things that were done... Goodness knows that the grade's in and it's time to forget it, get professional, and move on to a career in Hollywood... but keeping an entry in my cinematic library that feels as unfinished and impersonal as it is almost more than I can stomach. Only two other movies are omitted from my collection: one, my first group project in Cinema Production II (which the producer never released copies of), and an action figure movie for which the only movie file went south and became corrupted.

But in the words of Batman, "Sherwood Forest's not beyond saving."

Here's proof.

New Country ProtoIntro from AJ Pinkerton on Vimeo.

I'm Gonna Write You A Blog You Can't Refuse

I just watched an animated movie trailer for a Japanese film based on the Professor Layton video game series. I didn't understand a word of it, because I don't speak Japanese and there weren't any subtitles, but that didn't stop me from just soaking in the exotic-sounding chatter, adorable giant eyes, and charming storybook animation. About the only thing that made me cringe was the over-enthusiastic narrator, who would forcefully shriek something insane-sounding in Japanese every few seconds, accompanied by a large title ending in at least one exclamation mark. Our voice-over artists are much, much better. But otherwise, it was a lovely trailer that reminded me again how in love I am with Japanese culture.

Just thought I'd make that a public proclamation. Nobody do a Zelda movie, or I will rip out your soul and feed it through a log chipper, because I'm making it first.

Three Times It Blogs

I always have the strangest of dilemmas (and corresponding blog posts) at 3 AM.

I'm currently dividing costumes based on whether or not they could be potentially useful to have in Los Angeles. Of course, Hollywood is the land of prop houses, sound stages, and wardrobe departments, but having an instant-access (and *FREE*) source of outfits at all times is clearly a strong convenience on many a front.

Due to the massive volume of clothing I've collected over the years, however, the boxes are quickly over-flowing. And here I stand at the brink of disaster: that fatal decision of taking something out and leaving it behind for the sake of space, only to find in two months that I "really, really should have brought that, because now I need it."

Most immediately, while checking over the piles I'd made, I had the bizarre and sudden concern that I have not packed a single dress to bring to LA. This is upsetting in that not only is a good dress a life saver for any movie low on estrogen, but also that I'm moving to the other side of the country and considering which dresses, and how many, I should have with me.

I can nearly justify leaving the dresses behind in that Los Angeles is positively full of women (often attractive ones) (often actresses) (often out of work) and that getting a real, live one -- or at least her dress, for a couple hours -- should not be a challenge at all. But I suppose having a dress on hand has become almost a security blanket to me now. Just knowing I have one tucked away somewhere means that should the unthinkable happen -- can't find a girl, can't meet the deadline, can't come up with an intelligent sight gag -- there's always a last-ditch fallback, and all it takes is to go pull it out and zip it up. Voila, boy in a dress. Instant laughs ensue (albeit cheap ones).

I haven't made up my mind still, and I don't think I will tonight. Picking out capes has already sapped most of my decision-making powers.

Your Mother Was A Blogger And Your Father Smelt Of Elderberries!

Over the course of the past two days, I've collectively pilfered 13 working television sets from the Park School's loading bay and dumpster area. I'm not positive why this mass genocide of CRT screens is occurring, but am making a guess that the college is putting some money into upgrades and cleaning out old offices and classrooms.

Driving home, I hoped desperately that I would not be pulled over by police, who would find my car loaded with television sets clearly not mine.

I also saw Transformers 2 the other night (Beard Srinivasan came all the way from Florida to watch it) and found myself awake for its entirety -- a new feat for the Autobots. Good and exciting, but reeking of cheesy absurdities and characters who should have expired within the first act and not returned. Ironically, Shia LeBeouf was the least obnoxious person in the film. That's probably a first for him.

Regardless, the Optimus fight in the woods was perhaps the first time that I've been invigorated watching giant robots fighting. I'm not sure why they've never satisfied my wild action-sequence bloodlust before, but that scene finally "worked" and won me over to robot mano a robot mano. A terrific moment indeed.

But how about all that smutty stuff? Did I miss it, or was the first film majorly less-sexed than this one? I was watching with Casey and Eric and Beard and I still blushed at moments -- a little heavy for a family film? Don't get me wrong, both Megan Fox and Isabel Lucas are gorgeous... but maybe working them and their underwear into a romantic comedy would be a better suit than into a film about giant fighting robots. Seems to me that Transformers, as a brand, is above that.

You Are One Sad, Strange Little Blog

I caught some sort of spark today and have been doing some feverish opening-sequence work on my past Thesis film -- probably a side-effect of watching another clever Fiction short from classmates and feeling envious that nothing I've shot has turned out festival-worthy. So while returning to my Thesis to further repair it, I was reminded of this list I compiled once on a group project.

For obvious reasons, I scribbled them on paper and stuffed them away instead of voicing them to the team. But they're pretty good, so maybe if I get some nerve, I'll bust one of these out next time I find an appropriate situation.

1) Your work makes me want to commit ritualistic suicide to spare my family the shame in knowing that I had the power to stop you and didn't.

2) Choosing something for you to work on is like selecting which way to be mauled by a rhinoceros.

3) I keep considering sacrificing you to the gods to appease their wrath. Ghana could have water right now, if only I had burned you alive already.

4) Are the planets aligned, or do you just suck this badly all the time?

Wow, I'm a really nasty person when my grades (and pride, and creative investment) are on the line. "Does not play well with other children." But in truth, it was probably a really good (and really vital) lesson to learn about dealing with people who aren't going to agree with the plan and inevitably get their way. Probably half of the movie business is about playing give-and-take with not just studios, but talent and critics and audiences. Being able to wrap up a movie with a professional attitude, regardless of how it stacked up to your expectations, means a quicker and smoother transition into the next opportunity to make a masterpiece.

I'm not sure I'm quite there yet, but I'm a heck of a lot closer than I was four years ago.

Blog What You Can And Give Nothing Back!

Looks like I've been letting this collect some dust as of late, although my recent computer troubles have been partly to blame. No massive projects to whine about at the moment, anyway.

Today marks the one-month-away point for moving to Los Angeles, and I'm feeling a bit spooked by it. I guess I've been writing off the transition as being "sometime later this summer." It was always many weeks away -- too many to actually take the time and count -- so I lost track of how close I was to leaving until hitting a major mile-marker like this. I'm not exactly thrilled how my decision to come back to New York has played out, either; employment has been sparse, money's been tight, and with only one significant project put on the shelf, I've started questioning whether remaining in Los Angeles immediately after graduation would have been more beneficial.

Is this bad? That I'm already complaining about life and I haven't even gotten out to Hollywood?

I'm still searching short-term jobs, but with less than a month to work, it's basically an impossibility. Tomorrow I'm interviewing for an activism job about global warming. They can accommodate my timeline and I can accommodate their obnoxious hours and a long drive (in my state of desperation, at least). I'm not crazy about the situation, but I'm uneasy about my financial state and my parents are in an absolute tizzy.

As I drove through the extreme construction tearing apart my town earlier today, I got this severe feeling of economic depression and a post-apocalyptic civilization living off bartering stones and livestock. Hopefully that's my wild imagination and not a premonition.

Are You Blogging Closely?

I'm afraid my computer's come a bit under wear recently, enough that the mouse button has gone haywire. Since on the fritz, it's been clicking rather strangely at things I'm not trying to open or edit, which makes working on films particularly challenging, as well as navigating the web. I'm still addressing the problem, but I'm likely out of warranty, which means costly repairs and miserable phone calls. I'll keep you all informed, since you're undoubtedly on the edges of your seats on this issue.

Without a stable computer to edit on, I've been actually attending to some real life chores. My room looks a little disastrous right now... but it's actually a heck of a lot cleaner, and I've organized a lot of unneeded and unwanted items to be sold off in a garage sale. Maybe I can make a few bucks to help fund my trip to LA?

I'm pretty nervous still about LA. Not so much living as working, because I don't know what to expect when I get there, but I know exactly what I want to come of it. That's not a great combination at all. I'm hoping to get right into a studio film the moment I get out there -- tap on some of my internship supervisors, finagle my way onto a lot, hook into a really dedicated team, and get sucked into every major project they work on. That's Phase One.

Phase Two has me writing something incredible, which I then take back to the people in Phase One, and they help me sell it (with the stipulation that we also get to make it). And that leads into Phase Three: Big Bucks and living rich and famous.

But probably the real plan goes more along lines like this:

Phase One: Cry to internship supervisors; they let me use their copier. Send applications to studios everywhere, get no responses back. Ultimately throw cover letters and resumes out to the population of management companies, score a few painful interviews, and maybe turn up an aggravating desk job to pay the bills.

Phase Two: Either get fired within a year, or promoted to a better desk and more money. Get no closer to making a movie, but get old enough that I will veritably never get the chance to.

Phase Three: Own a nice house, but remain a nobody in an office while the rest of the world finds stardom. Pay off loans and die.

I really hate that plan. It's solid, but only if you're living to live, and not living to make movies. And I'm not a weekends guy. I'm a Monday-through-Friday guy.

I guess if I find myself stuck in this track, I could make wild decisions and switch it all up at some point (go back to school, move elsewhere, try out the game industry), but then, I've also heard that the only people who don't succeed in Hollywood are the ones who don't stick it out long enough...

Only time will tell where I fall on this speculative grid, I guess. But if there's another thing I've always been guilty of, it's not having particularly good patience...

A Blog On One Is A Blog On All Of Us

Any other man on earth would be visiting FML for this, but given my sophisticated and classy demeanor, I'll offer this polite alternative: FAOM, or "Fart all over me..."

My beloved MacBook Pro has always been a source of secret pride.  Ever since getting it, I've snidely pointed out to my Windows-loving friends that "My Mac never gets viruses," "My Mac never crashes," and "My Mac never needs repairs."

Yeah, well, tonight, my three-year extended warranty is two nights past expiration, and my friggin Mac needs a repair.  Screw you and your fat, saggy, jingly pockets, Apple.

The mouse button (remember, Macs only have one!) has gone all rogue and hyper sensitive, and thinks that any shift of weight over it implies that I'm desperately trying to click something.  And so anytime my finger rests over it lightly, it begins madly double- and triple-clicking all over, opening and minimizing and renaming everything it can find until I jerk my hand away.  At first, it was only misbehaving occasionally, lightly, with tricks like highlighting lines of text.  But once I started trying to edit, it began interfering much more deliberately, by changing my timeline and and goofing around with precision clip-placement.  And when I went out on the net looking for troubleshooting information to solve it, it only got worse from there.

At this point, I've stolen the USB mouse from my desktop PC and am now using it (on my bed) for my frustrating little Macbook.  Now that I've been told that my warranty's fresh out and the Applecare plan ran out on Sunday, I'm feeling pretty much screwed about how to solve this problem.  And goodness knows that a guy trying to move to LA with no money and no solid career (and college loans to pay, and a single working parent with four children, two still furthering their educations) hasn't got the funds to play Apple's stupid game and dabble around with insane repair fees for a wacked-out mouse button.

Only now do I realize how many batteries have died, how many programs haven't run, how many pages won't load, how many files won't open, how many keys have fallen off, and how much patience this Macbook has secretly been costing all these years.

Read Some Blogs, Pam; You Look Tired

Today I did some cleaning downstairs (and that's about all I did, judging by my unmarked To-Do list).  As many of you know, my family is notoriously obsessed with keeping old treasures from years past and "filing them away" in places that will preserve such relics for centuries unnoticed.

Being a parttime computer junkie, I decided to dig through our computer drawers and see what I could find in them.

I can't recite everything that each contained, but rest assured that once I was finished, the drawers were quite empty and the garbage was quite full.

Observe some of the amusements I found (and promptly discarded):

-A printed list of every email address my family has ever received mail from or written to (or simply exchanged on paper with someone)

-The user guide to our previous computer, and two printers previous

-Unopened install discs for Windows 98 gift card-making software.

-Three packs of various photo papers

-The Walmart price tag from our first computer

-Instructions on how to set up Dial-Up

-Print copies of various Explorer windows, with penciled-in folders and some items crossed out

-An external Zip Drive (with a zip disk inside still)

-Limited Warranty fine print for 512 MB RAM we bought and installed two years ago

-A Frontier "We Installed Your Internet While You Were Out" door handle card

-"Barbie Salsa" audio CD (contains one (1) song)  (which I admit, I listened to)  (and copied into my iTunes library)

-50 floppy disk labels (and about 5 Zip Disk labels)

-This After-Thanksgiving-Day-Sale clipping:

(The Super Nintendo went out of production in 1997.  Just for anyone crunching the numbers on this stuff.)

So what's my point with all this stuff?  No point.  Just Sharing Time, or maybe Show and Tell.  And a firm resolution that you will never pick this stuff out of my cabinets and computer desks (except maybe that Barbie Salsa CD, since it offers mildly redeeming value)

I Hate Blogs, Doc! I Hate 'Em!

In honor of our nation's greatest personal holiday, I thought it was a good day to throw out a blog about patriotism and honor, instead of my usual self-indulgent mush.

Throughout the year, I make a lot of comments about The United States of America.  Unfortunately, most of the comments are generally criticism.  I think a lot of us tend to do that.  We complain about our weather, our economy, our society, our obesity, our pollution, our government, our military, our laws, our media -- EVERYTHING!  No matter what it is, chances are, we have something bad to say about it.

But what about all the good things?  Like most elements in our world, we tend to spend a lot more time pointing out flaws than voicing support for strengths.  A heckofalot more time.

So on this day -- 24 hours of the year -- I'd like to throw all that in the garbage and say, "America is an incredible place to live, and I'm extremely proud of my country."  Because the truth is, it doesn't always make us happy, and we may see things we want from other nations.  But this is our home, and it's a darn fine home at that.  I feel small and pitiful thinking about all the bold men who fought and died for this country's freedom hundreds of years ago, while I scorn it and belittle it almost every day from my Lazy Boy.

So here's to You, America.  You put up with a ton of crap from your very residents, and take public abuses in front of the world audience each and every day.  Nobody ever properly thanks you, so today, I'd like to.  No matter what we say about you, don't ever change.

America, you freaking rock.

No, Mister Bond, I Expect You To Blog!

Time for another whiny post, I suppose.

I've been spending this summer doing a lot of editing -- compiling and authoring, but also editing -- and it's finally starting to wear me down.  Not that I dislike editing my own material -- quite the contrary, I get rather defensive when others handle the process.  But more than sitting at a computer and manipulating footage, I'd love to get out in the "field" with a cast and camera and make something new.

I guess that's why most of my projects never get finished once they enter the editing stage.

But call me what you like, the fact is, I haven't shot a single stitch of movie all summer... and for me, that's a really, *really* long time to go.  After all, I didn't get into this business to connect and shine up the dots; I got into it to plot them out.

So I'm starting to think about shooting films again tonight.  Short ones, long ones, feature ones- anything.  And I know already that it'd be naive of me to say I'm just interested in holding a camera.  I have a tremendous drive to act, too, and I think I'm still improving.  I can't walk into the bathroom and close the door without stopping to perform a scene of some kind, just to verify to myself that yes, I indeed deserve an Academy Award for such a tasteful mastery of art.

I've got a lot of projects at this point that I'd like to take time to develop further, write a draft out of, put it up on screen, see how it balances and flows.  One's a Memento-esque bomb-and-cops mystery.  One's a noir about a masked hitman.  Another's about brothers who are assassins.  There's a parody of The Fog, a rogue Grim Reaper story, a Red Riding Hood-zombie remash, and I still think doing a Beard vs. Garbage Man action-horror movie would be a brilliant and exciting challenge.  And now Peter (Srinivasan) says he thinks I should try out a drama, and test my versatility in a genre such as that.  Huh.  Now he's probably right that a little non-action/comedy wouldn't hurt me, but I can hardly imagine finding a good drama script that I could ever like.  And writing one seems like writing a report on beans; what's to excite an audience when your characters aren't taking extra measures and major actions to progress the plot?

Maybe they are, emotionally, but I need to see knives and explosions and jumping off buildings before I'm convinced that it's not going to put people to sleep.

Regardless, I do want to test my range as a writer and director, and I do value the challenge of something completely out of my fish bowl.  They say Mel Brooks directed The Elephant Man under a different name, because he feared audiences would view it lightly if shot by a man made famous for his sense of humor.

The least I can do is try something without a single bullet.

Megatron Wants What's In My Blog

Today I had no new assignments, so it was basically a day off.  And given that the FR3 DVD is finished (other than printing some box art and mailing copies), it was a good chance to catch up on things.

So after messing a little more with the Eating Disorders: The Musical trailer, I opened Batman and Spider-Man Save Christmas to do some new editing on it.  Today's challenge: start laying in a soundtrack, beginning with the production logos and opening pre-title sequence.

I started hunting through the Spider-Man 2 score, because I only have a couple track from Spider-Man 1, and the early Batman scores are a little less sophisticated (I'm unsold as of this moment on whether I'll be incorporating the Hans Zimmer/James Newton Howard scores from Batman Begins and The Dark Knight).  I found a piece that was mildly suitable, but after a hundred and fifty movies and eight years, what I've learned is that music is never a throwaway element, and something "mildly suitable" is never good enough.  If that piece of music doesn't stand the hairs on your neck up when matched with the picture, then it isn't the right piece of music and you're not getting the mileage out of your movie.

Now, I'd been briefly entertaining the idea of testing a track from Michael Giacchino's Star Trek score.  To satisfy my curiosity, I placed it in and took a look.  The effect I was looking for was there, but only briefly.  Then, the picture began to develop a separate pace from the music, and I thought, "Rrrrr!  The titles need to go there!"

But Uh-oh.  An impasse.  I'd already decided to put the titles, over footage, later in the film.  Now what?

I thought this was an interesting example of the challenge of deciding what serves what in the film.  On the one hand, I can resort of a weaker score piece, or make uneasy decision like fading out driving music, to better support the image.  Or I can alter the image to better match the score -- a severe and classic No-No, especially because real films are scored TO the picture by a composer.

But then, that's not really an option to be undertaking, now is it?

Besides, I've a long and dense history of editing picture to fit sound, and not visa versa.  Maybe it's a cheater's way out -- the score is conducted by a professional's pacing; why not copycat along?  But I was just told only last night that human beings are an aural audience; we're more influenced by what we're hearing than what we're seeing, and when a movie sounds excellent, we'll believe it's excellent... even if the visual testifies contrarily.

So which will I do?  Well, I haven't quite decided yet, so it's still up in the air.  Regardless, I found it an interesting dilemma and an issue worth mentioning.  Hopefully, when you see the finished product, you'll find that both sound and picture speak quite clearly for themselves, while matching quite neatly.

Get Out Of My Blog, Charles!

I found a single white glove behind some old toy boxes today.

Michael Jackson is alive, and he's hiding somewhere in my house.

Come With Me If You Want To Blog!

Beh.  Why must I be some sort of lazy swine?  (No offense to the swine who read this blog)

I've secured another transcription job through Cornell -- taking phone interview recordings from a business professor and typing them into a "script" document -- and conditions for it are excellent.  $17 an hour, work-from-home, no real deadlines, and projected job continuance of two interviews a week for the remainder of the summer.  Yesterday, I set to work in an undershirt.  Today, I was in my pajamas.  That's a classy summer job if ever there was one.

So can somebody explain why I've only managed about four hours today and four hours yesterday?  Why am I updating my blog instead of making $17 an hour updating a Word document?

I fell asleep earlier and woke up drenched in sweat and feeling awful.  Partly from the heat and partly out of guilt that instead of working feverishly at the recording on my laptop, I was laying on my bed snoozing.  Even though they told me the position was highly flexible, I still feel terribly wasteful taking a nap an a hour after taking a lunch break.  The good news is, that never happened when I went to the agency office to do this stuff.

I'm hoping that it's just the heat.  The heat and hours of Quicktime playback about behavioral integrity.  But at this point, even when I take a break or "finish" for the night, the last thing I want to do at this point is pick my laptop up and edit video or work on scripts.  I feel almost physically ATTACHED to this machine nowadays.  I can't get more than twenty yards away from it at any time.  Everything I do, all day long, is directly connected to sitting somewhere with this infernal contraption on my lap and tippity-tappity-typing for hours on end.  And hey, I don't wanna be casting out judgments on anybody here, but... sitting on the computer all day long makes me feel like a completely horrible, wasteful pile of human being.

I should really get back to work some more on it.  My progress has been substantially slower than I thought it'd be, and the only justification I've managed to find in my nap is that I'm missing out on seeing Transformers 2 with my friends a second night in a row.  That seems like an adequate punishment and discipline to rectify my lousy work habits.

Besides, listening and relaying conversations about business ethics is almost as exciting as giant robots battling to save the earth.  Well... it's more lucrative... 

Life Here Ain't Worth A Hill Of Blogs

Sorry about the delay in DVD release; I had a last-minute dilemma with buttons and all the *SUPER SECRET* Easter Egg content stopped playing. ;<  I personally found this unsatisfactory, and so rather than preparing a slew of faulty discs with no extra-extra content, I took the extra day or so to iron out the problem and recraft the menus to offer these secret clips.

I have my questions how many of you will even find the material, but I think it was still worth it just to add the potential for treasure hunting and finding something cool.

On another note--

I just counted out the weeks tonight until I move to LA.  It was 8.  Eight weeks until New York is no longer my legal home.  It kind of feels impossible that I'm already at that point in life where you, um, stop being a kid and start being an adult.  And this college-in-three-years thing is still throwing me off, too.  I'm totally in the mindset of going back to school and being obnoxiously carefree and infantile for another nine months.  Fortunately, I've made the realization that I'm definitely not getting more "mature"  -- people are just trusting my responsibility more.  I'd say that's a fair trade.

I keep thinking about these kids from college that I'll never see again.  The good news is, a lot of graduates in the film program end up moving to LA, so there's a wonderful chance that I'll re-encounter (if not work professionally with) a lot of Ithaca College kids and ex-Parkies (I'm living with a bunch of them).  And then, odds are high that I'll run into old classmates coming out for a semester of study-abroad, as early as one week after I move there myself.  But then, what about the kids who already went to Los Angeles (maybe with me, even?)  What about the ones who are skipping LA to study elsewhere instead?  What if they don't want to move to California when they finish school?  I sort of feel bad, thinking about how unseriously I took saying goodbyes and tying up loose ends.

Probably a defense mechanism.  Easier to pretend I'll run into anybody anytime I want than to imagine I may be saying bye for the last time.  Easier, but not as realistic...

I Will Find You... And I Will Blog About You

So the DVD was "supposed" to come out yesterday... but who's really keeping track, right?  Besides, it was in everyone's best interest that I let it slip an extra day or so.  I was at my computer at midnight (I claim to operate on Pacific Standard Time still, so no prob) and ready to burn the first disc, but then I got thinking.  The data quota bar said I had crammed 4.1 gigs onto the DVD -- quite full, and substantially more than I customarily put on any DVD.  But then, a DVD's capacity is 4.7 gigabytes...  and with over half a gigabyte to spare, why export quite yet when I could search for some extra clips to fill the extra space with?

There began a frantic, late-night hunt for bonus content and easter eggs -- little video treasures that are essentially pointless, but give you DVD hounds a tad bit extra to search your disc for, and hopefully get some mild enjoyment out of.

Unfortunately, it came to my immediate attention that we have very little extra to offer in the way of additional content.  I searched my drive, repeatedly, and came to this startling and unpleasant conclusion: we need to make more movies.

Unbelievably, just about everything I have has either been used on a previous disc, was put onto this disc, or is due to be placed onto a future disc.  After much fruitless scouring, I could find very little to offer in the way of bonus clips and easter eggs.  I was up until 5 AM re-editing an old, unfinished clip from last summer, then begged a side-short off pal Nathan Morse to also add.  I've got maybe one or two other small things to dub or re-edit and throw on, but the point is clear: we're scraping the bottom of the barrel here to fill up that last half a gig, and it's probably going to show.

Thankfully, the solution is simple: time to get out there with a camera and make more movies.  But with summer work and a move to LA in the quite-near future, making new films may have to go on hold for a bit.

Don't expect The Fungus-Ridden Collection Volume 4 anytime in the near future.

With Great Blogs Comes Great Responsibility

What's this?  Did I... MISS a day???

Could be.  Things have been busy here; hopefully you won't hold it against me if I don't keep you up-to-date every single day.  After all, I never claimed this would be one of THOSE kinds of blogs...

I worked on DVD menus and special features straight through yesterday and had a miserable night when my parrot expressed a keen interest in climbing the curtains of his adjacent window and hanging from them like a bat.

I decided for his better interest to take him upstairs for the night with me to his "vacation cage," where he can get away to when he needs attention and isn't finding it in his own room.  Unfortunately, he really hates his vacation cage.  I can't figure it out, but something about the room makes him incredibly uneasy.  He won't stand anywhere but in the very corner, all night, and if -- heaven forbid -- I should turn off the lights, then he'll make a jump for it and fly straight for the stairs.

I thought maybe the claustrophobic corner was making him jumpy, so I moved his cage last night to the floor, and then set it next to my bed.  Unfortunately, I seem to have been wrong about the corner; he remained skittish and paranoid unless I held him.  And the thing about birds is, you can't let them sleep in your bed with you, or you might roll over and squash them.

So I zonked out "early" at 2AM, still in my clothes, and left the stairway lamp on.  And he stood on the corner of his cage wide-awake, I think, and waited all night for me to wake back up and return him to his room.  Poor little bird.

On a side-but-related note, I dreamed I took a group of children camping, and someone lit a fire in the forest and burned some trees down.  At least one kid died in the fire.

Twice The Blog, Double The Fall

I almost removed an entire menu from the DVD today simply because it was too dense.  In truth, it makes a better short film than a menu -- some of these are really, really elaborate -- but I hate to water it down any, or make a new, emptier one.  I'm wrapping up all the buttons tonight and by tomorrow, I'll be able to just open the project and perform the voice work.  Dah! <3 

On another note, in between rendering, I've been easing back into my obsession of fan-made Flash videos tonight.  The best are a collaborative series of short clips based on the Sonic the Hedgehog games.  I believe the fifth collection just hit Newgrounds -- no small feet, given how many animators contribute and how many shorts they stuff into these ten-minute videos.  It makes you realize what an awful lot of talent there is lurking around the corners of the web...

It also makes you feel a little sad not to be contributing.  I'd love to be part of the team producing these shorts, and the content is not unlike the style of my earlier work.  I guess we all make our choices and set our priorities, and I've ended up putting emphasis on DVDs and superhero movies over Flash video game parodies... but it's got me thinking about how nice it'd be, for a change of pace, to dabble back into gaming satire again...

Maybe once these summer DVDs are done and Batman and Spider-Man is completely wrapped, I can afford a brief hiatus this fall for some game-culture loving...

You Think That's Blog You're Reading?

A couple quick updates on the production-side of life, while I kill the time it takes my computer to render out more video changes.

Last night, I got hit by a minor setback and lost some unsaved progress on the special features menu.  No biggie, since it's just labor and keyframing -- not creative work or art -- that was lost.  But it wiped out a solid thirty minutes of computer work that was looking pretty sharp.  This event is also one of the first major instances in three years that my Mac has inexplicably crashed.  I guess it's been wired to my Windows too long...

The bright news is that I also paid a visit last night to friend and filmmaker Nathaniel J. and helped rework his premiere Kill Booth teaser.  The clip is F-R ground-breaking in that it's been constructed almost months ahead of the film's production.  We actually shot new material specifically for the teaser, but ultimately didn't incorporate it in.  DVD material, perhaps?  Regardless, you'll be able to see the first glimpse of Nate's revolutionary upcoming film, Kill Booth, on either the FR3 DVD or on his Kill Booth production log.

Looks like my rendering is finished.  Back to the grind.  Stay tuned for more updates, though!

I Can't Let You Blog That, Dave

http://students.ithaca.edu/~apinker1/BankRobbingPotato.swf

I made this video about a year ago for my Flash Animation course. It was the last straight-forward video project we were assigned. After that, all our projects revolved around programming and code, and the whole class went down from there.

The culinary anomole of The Bouncing Potato began back in high school, and I launched multiple attempts on a pirated learning edition of Flash (back when Macromedia was developing it, before Adobe). Though I never accomplished a successful Bouncing Potato video in high school, the concept kept lingering around. Years later, when faced with Flash projects at the collegiate level, it seemed time to dig back into those folders for a great big WTF semester-long gag. My Flash Animation class never saw me turn in anything but new bouncing potato videos for the entirety of the course.

The reason I'm posting it is because I'm searching for a means to convert it from Flash (.swf) into a usable format for DVD release. If I'm able to convert it to an extension allowed by my disc authoring software, then it will join the other legendary content on the Fungus-Ridden 3 DVD. I've all but expired every option my Mac can offer me, but now it's time to test Windows.

C'mon, PC. Here's your chance to shine.

You Smell Like Old People And Blogs... I Like It...

I'm considering renaming this blog "Render Words," because I seem to use it most while rendering video for editing.

Progress on menus is good, so I'm going to waste words tonight on one of the recent movies I've been quite inspired by instead.  And for once in my life, I'm not referring to Wall-E.

Let's talk about BOLT.  It came out in November of 2008; I watched it in theaters immediately following Keanu Reeve's "memorable" performance in The Day The Earth Stood Still.  Despite following one of the worst movies of the year -- if not all time -- Bolt proved absolutely inspirational.

There were a few problems plaguing it: Disney's last strand of computer-animated offerings had been lackluster at best, horrible at worst.  The company reputation was sagging around the edges.  Disney Princesses were fast becoming the only palpable property worth the company's funding.  If you're like me -- grouchy, balding, and frequently unshaven -- you probably sat down preparing for the worst.

As it turns out, I sat spellbound for two hours and soaked in a level of CG genius previously unknown at the gates of Disney.  Each time I've watched it again, I've revisited my state of amazement.  Industry in-jokes, movie references, genuine WTF comedy, lines about snapping necks...  Surely this can't be from the land of Goof Troops and Winnie the Pooh.

I'm not writing all this just to offer some sort of movie review (although it's amazing, go watch it).  My point is, Bolt altered my entire perspective on the Walt Disney company, and for the first time, I began considering what it would take to go to work on that lot every day.

If you find me shooting Disney films twenty years from now, you can trace that back here and chalk it up to Bolt.

So This Is How Blogs Die... With Thunderous Applause...

I feel like I just ran a marathon, but less ready to puke and more ready to cry.

Our family hosted an "afternoon" picnic at our camp for the church youth group, and I of course took part in said activity.  Unfortunately, today, I've been feeling really emo about everything.  Just one of those moody, lonely, pathetic-feeling days, I guess.  Nothing really helps bring out the feelings of pitifulness, though, like being the weird 22-year old with no friends standing around in creepy places or looking for small teenage groups to insert yourself awkwardly into.

That's tough to endure for ten hours on a normal day.  It's super tough when you're feeling miserable about your life and seem to be the only one not having an extra-freaking-terrific day.

Yeah, I know.  Crummy old troll kid, raining on everyone's parade, downing everybody's fun.  But I don't mind that everybody's having fun; I'm really glad to see friendships and relationships blossoming, good times all around...  I'm just bitter and jealous that I'm the wretch lurking in the shadows, contemplating my sucky state of being and searching for discarded paper cups.

I guess I'm taking this into the ultra-emo territory.  All ye who are easily disgusted, time to ditch the blog for greener websites.

I play like my career (filmmaking) is the most important element of my life, and that I sacrifice other things to put it first.  And that's not a cover-up; I'm sincerely -- fiercely -- devoted to making movies with the passion of a thousand burning fire-ghouls from the sun (as no doubt you're aware).  But, as my troubled mind wandered in the car tonight, I came upon this notion: there's a puzzle piece missing in my life, and it's got life-altering impact.  I'm talking the girlfriend thing.

It may not be the same for everyone, but for me, a significant other immediately attaches to the center of the universe.  Even with things that have nothing to do with her -- stuff that doesn't even keep her on your mind -- there's just a soul-cuddling warmth in knowing SOMEBODY gives a darn about you.  And when you don't have that...  well, the aforementioned hole in your universe, which shallows out everything else you do.

That's sort of the place I'm at now.  All the merit of whatever I do feels like it's fat-free, or at least 1%.  Yeah, hooray, whoo-hoo, you did it, but there's nobody standing at your sideline to really be proud of you, to claim you as her own.  And without that, you're out there busting your butt and fighting for... the world?  No one?  Feels kinda the same.

Feels kinda like tonight.