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April
2, 2003
10:34pm Wednesday
MISGUIDED
BY THE 405 CAUSE IT LED ME TO AN ALCOHOLIC SUMMER
Yes,
fools, this is my life.
Suffer
suffer suffer. I am loser with big L.
(If
you can't see, it says "From Justin to Kelly". In quotes.)
Today
after I wiled away the hours typing someone else's (bad) dialogue,
the new guy at work asked me what I "do." As in, this
can't be what you really do, so what do you do? I told him
I write, and he gave back one of my top three favorite replies,
which is, "What have I seen of yours?" Nowadays instead
of completely squirming, I throw out the Nicholl thing, which is
total small potatoes but is at least better than saying "nothing"
and melting down through the floorboards. So he said he knows some
producers and would I give him a script so he could pass it along?
I said sure. I always wonder about offers like this, especially
after having just met someone for a quarter of a workday, but whatever.
Take every opportunity, man. Even if it comes in the form of a down
on his luck sound engineer.
===
Yours
truly started a yoga class this week hosted by Burbank Parks and
Rec, and this is a miracle because a) I hate exercising in front
of people, and b) trying to relax while sitting in a knot on a cold
linoleum floor that smells like children's feet is not my idea of
a good time. I am, however, trying to relax and get flexible, and
I guess this is a good way to do it.
The
funnest part was emerging from class to find that the entire RenFaire
membership of greater Los Angeles had convened in the park next
to the yoga class and was swordfighting in medieval garb. The scene
was replete with maidens in distress. Total authenticity. Although
I think in ye olde tymes the boys might've been a bit more fit and
wouldn't have had long ponytails, but I can't be sure.
===
Today
while Gray's car was getting its repair bill written up for $940,
I sat in a chair and read a very interesting LA Times article about
the new Linkin Park CD and the efforts the record company went to
to deter electronic leakage before its official release.
Damn.
They turned the recording studio into Fort Knox. They unmounted
the hard drives every night after recording, didn't burn any copies
during the recording period, had guards log every single visitor
to the facility, had one guy fly one CD around the world to let
prospective radio programmers hear the single, made record execs
in charge of picking the first single break up their CD copies into
little pieces and deliver them back to the manager within a period
of hours... just crazy lengths. And it worked. It never leaked and
the album sold 800,000 copies in its first week. Perhaps Dave Gahan
of Depeche Mode should've taken a page from their book since I'm
downloading his entire new CD due end of June right now from a server
in France. Should I say that? Don't arrest me.
Speaking
of car repairs, my advice of the day is to rotate your tires, kids.
I didn't do mine for like 20,000 miles (don't tell my dad) and yesterday
paid $200 for some worn out fronties. And the back two, they say,
are cupped due to my non-rotation, which means they'll have to be
replaced in 6,000 more miles. Cars are the bane of my existence.
===
I
leave you with three thoughts: Personal Velocity on DVD is very
good; I'm going to steal samples from Noel Coward's song "Mrs.
Worthington" and turn it into a techno song; and why in the
world does America keep trying to vote off Kimberly Locke on American
Idol? She's the best one, stupids!
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