11:37 am - Tues 3/16/04
Mon 3/15/04 (3:05 a.m.)
About as tired as I get while still being conscious...
I keep having the urge to write, then not writing. Why?
I think it's part "subject matter", and part not being enough of a writer to get what's in my head onto the page in anything resembling a coherent manner.
So here goes nothing...
My teeth are fucked up. I've kind of went from knowing that (And being angry that I had no one who cared enough about me as a kid to get it taken care of), to dismissing it ("Well, they're not really that bad..."), to knowing it again ("It's too bad Jim doesn't have the money to get his teeth fixed..."). I watch tv, commercials in particular, and I notice straight white teeth are very "in".
Large, straight white teeth.
I have small, crooked, slightly yellow teeth. They aren't "in", and never were, that I know of (Maybe in the dark ages, when it was probably "cool" to have any teeth, crooked or otherwise). And I'm thinking about how I could "seal the deal" more often, commercially, if I had better teeth, but that I won't be able to pay for better teeth until I can "seal the deal" more often, commercially.
That's not good, is it...?
I've been obsessing over commercials, living for pages and callbacks and on-avails and gigs. Trying not to, but "trying not to obsess" has never actually worked out for me.
Thinking I need to "get a life", but I don't know what that means, what that would entail, and I'm pretty sure I can't afford it; I go to Subway one too many times, and suddenly I'm having to borrow $100 from Cary to make the rent. So how am I going to socialize, or date, when I can't even afford to take myself out for a hamburger and a movie?
I've got something like $1600 coming my way, but by the time it fucking gets here, I'll pretty much be giving it all away–I owe Cary, I owe Mark and Jane, and I owe the credit card companies (When you don't have any money, you end up having to put things on credit when you don't want to. Then you have that much less money, because you've mortaged your future to pay for your present). Maybe I'll be able to take myself out to Jack-In-The-Box...if I'm lucky.
Walked down to the bank earlier this morning, to get quarters for laundry, and realized, when I got my receipt from the atm, that my tight money situation continues to be tight.
I'm pretty unhappy about the position I'm in--scraping by with nothing, while three things I'm in air on television (And is Boxer ever going to pay me for the Hyundai thing? It's been a month-and-a-half now)--but beyond some fairly minor "adjustments" I can make, I don't see much to do but "grin and bear it", while I look forward to booking the big "national" that's going to, at the very least, "alter the terrain" a bit.
A couple days ago, another couple in the building recognized me from tv; the woman said she'd seen the Incubus video, and joked about getting my autograph.
I was thinking about it--Being recognized is fun (Though so far out here, it's been confined to my apartment building), not because it's a big ego-boost (None of the things on tv right now are anything to brag about, really), but because it makes the world seem a smaller and friendlier place. I like having that "calling card", the ice breaker that lets people approach. And it's fun that people get a kick out of just seeing me; without breaking a sweat, I get to be a fun part of people's day.
I know "fame" can get oppressive at a certain level, but hard to imagine that's going to be a big "issue" with me. Hard to imagine my ever being mobbed on the street (But not so hard to imagine someone approaching me at the video store to say they liked my latest movie).
But anyway, back to reality...
Looks like nothing's going to come of those recent commercial "on avails", so time to put that round of close-but-no-cigar behind me, and look forward to grabbing that brass ring the next time out.
Â1 comments so far