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[11/03/2007]
I'm actually quite concerned about my S. I'm really worried that the ground will be covered in snow before I can drive up here. If that happens, I won't be able to drive it up at all.

Poor planning has always plagued me. I'm a fan of flying by the seat of my pants. Most times, I squeak by, but when the poo hits the fan, it go big splat.

....I so don't feel like getting out of bed right now.

[11/02/2007]
Geeky, but my roof retracting.


....Ignore my stupid gushing and Cankles waving at the end.


Well another one off my checklist of things to do before I pass on.

Apparently, in the future, no one spikes their hair!

I was this close to Forest Whitaker and Jude Law yesterday as a background movie extra on the set of Repossesion Mambo

On a whim, I had signed up to become an extra for movies. They called me up Tuesday evening and asked if I could be in the role of "tough Asian guy".

While I'm not, I figure it's all about acting, so I agreed; fueled by of course the promise of being in the same "scene" as the two actors mentioned above and also to be surrounded by beautiful ladies in lingerie in a nightclub setting - not necessarily in that order.

Anyway, I arrived Wednesday morning and signed in. After verifying my name on a clipboard, I waited with about 40 to 50 other people. I looked around, there were quite a few "big" guys in the crowd, and by that I mean most of them looked like juice kings. One dude was an ex-football player (never turned pro, but close) weighing 392 lbs.

So there I was, all of 150 lb wet, and I was a "tough guy". When the call to wardrobe came, I with my 20 other tough men lined up to be inspected and critiqued.

If you don't know, extras rarely get clothed by the makeup/clothing department. Most if not all normal extras bring their own change of clothing and then it is the arts department's job to say which articles of clothing would most suit the scene. I guess that if you don't bring something they like, you're out.

Anyway, I was near the front, with the bigger guys still behind me. Without exaggerating, I was literally the second smallest/scrawniest male there.

I stepped to the wardrobe table, and laid out my clothes. I was wearing a tight yellow t-shirt and my leather jacket, clothing which I thought made me look at least a bit more tough - as suggested by my "agent" - or her assistant, who calls me for bookings.

Anyway I digress. The lady looks at me, checks out my t-shirt and then goes, "Can you please take off your shirt and just have your jacket on?"

I look at her, rather stunned. I'm like, "Errr, you don't want me to wear a shirt?"

"No. Shirt off. Jacket on, please."

"Right here??" My eyes plead to her without having to say the words.

She pursed her lips and said, "Right now."

I sigh inwardly, and begin to suck in and puff out what I am hoping are in the right places. I remove my jacket, and pull off my shirt. A chorus of snickers and chuckles wafts in from behind. I turn bright red, I'm sure.

I put my jacket back on, somewhat relieved that my back is at least covered. The lady gives me the ol' up-down, turns to her co-worker and asks, "What do you think?"

I have never sucked in so hard nor flexed so much in my life. Okay, I have, but that's usually in the privacy of my own bathroom mirror. Never mind, I've said too much!

The second woman looks at me, like a piece of spoiled, rotten meat, and states, "Put the shirt back on and let me see again?"

I dutifully and thankfully comply. She stops. Looks at me again. "Okay, try on the other two t-shirts you brought."

I do.

"Too red, go with the blue and put your jacket back on."

I do - but it's the least tight of the t-shirts, so now I look a little goofy, and definitely don't feel tough.

I slink back to my spot where I was sitting before, and wait some more.

Another lady comes by, looks at me and says, "Have you had makeup?"

"No." I manage to squeak.

"Come with me."

I do.

She sits me down, and asks, "What type of product do you use in your hair, gel?"

"No," I correct her. "Clay."

"Sebastian clay?" she asks, knowing pretty much right away she was right.

I confirm her guess, but before I was even done talking, she starts spraying my hair with a water bottle.

"We're just going to reactivate that clay."

She pulls out a comb and starts to part my hair sideways, removing all my spikes. I'm a little freaked here, the last time I parted my hair was like Gr. 11 - and that was because I was a nerd and didn't realize it at the time.

I now basically look like a 40 year old fob. Not only do I look my age, I've got the hairstyle to go along. My mojo is gone, and I'm feeling rather glum.

She pulls out a pair of scissors and starts to trim my hair too. I'm ready to just quit and walk out, but at least all she did was clean up around my ears.

I'm very unhappy and feeling like a total idiot. Worse, I look it.

For the whole day, each time I meet anyone, I'm like, "Wardrobe made me do it. In the future, no one spikes their hair."

I later find out that some people thought that our scene was a flashback of the 60s, which it wasn't so that's why my hair was combed down. I so do not look tough.

Anyway, I spent the rest of the time either waiting in the holding area with the rest of the extras, or waiting in the "club" with my date, an extremely attractive girl that I'm seriously in love with, but because of my hair and looks, I totally lost my game and couldn't even strike a decent conversation. Not only do I look like a loser, feel like a loser, but I even acted like a loser.

She was hot though, and those lingerie models? Wow. At least the girls sympathized with my stupid hair.



Oh yes, my scene? I'm to sit there and stare into the girl's eyes as she puts on one red glove and touches my face. I have no dialog, but I can look at her and drink in her beauty. Dude, there's no acting there. She was hawt.

....The bags under my eyes are from lack of sleep, I swear!


[10/29/2007]
I'm actually now super excited at the prospect of owning an S2000 - most affectionately just referred to as the "S" around some forums.

I'm not sure how exactly I'm paying for it yet, that was something I didn't bother to plan out before hand.

I guess it's rice and beans for the next four years, again.

....But then I guess it's better than not eating, eh?

[10/28/2007]
I've been prescribed some sort of asthma medication that should only be taken at night. I didn't connect the two, but tonight my Mom did for me.

That's why I'm so sleepy at night now.

....Don't have the energy to post....................



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