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1:21 am - Mon 8/29/05
My New \"Roomie\"

My New "Roomie"

Sun 8/28/05 (3:51 p.m.)

I have my new cat.

Got back to the apartment around 11:00, and “Kipper” has been hiding out in a series of different locations ever since–from a spot behind my bike, to under the chair by my “work table”, to my closet, to the shower, etc.–making me realize that the whole thing about “not wanting to drop the cat off at my apartment, then ‘abandon’ him for eight hours” (While I went to work) shows how little I understand “the workings of the feline mind”.

(Chatting with Jane recently, she suggested I could be a bit “off in my thinking” on this–Kipper might actually prefer I weren’t here, so he could have his run of the new place without the big scary stranger lurking about–and as is often the case, it turns out Jane was right. But I’d already put in to have the day off at that point, so here we are.)

And since he just hissed at me when I found his latest “hiding place” (On the chair by the vanity table, amidst a pile of clothes), I’m guessing he’d prefer I stop “checking on him”, and just let him be “freaked out”, for however long it takes.

Knowing what I know now, I was thinking about going to a JS-initiated karaoke send-off for Cynthia St. John tonight, an actress at the agency who’s moving to Denver to be closer to her family (I know it’s certainly not a case of “running away with her tail between her legs”, as so many people do; In the weekly email newsletter, JS lists everyone who booked a job in the previous week, and her name is on that list more often than not).

But I just got another email from JS–The party is cancelled, because the place we go to in Little Tokyo–Oiwake-- is hosting a private party.

(Just as well, really-- I don’t have any money anyway.)

____________________

Well, there’s good news and bad news on the Signing Agent front...

The good news?

On Friday, I got my very first call–from The Bottom Line–about a last-minute job.

The bad news?

I got the message about a half hour too late.

Two things I’ve learned from this experience:

1. I need to have my cell phone on whenever I’m not at work. With JS, it’s been good enough simply to check my voice-mail throughout the day, but with these things, if they call and you don’t answer, they’re probably just going to move on to the next person on their list (Anita says if they do leave a message on your voice-mail, you have ten or fifteen minutes, tops, to get back to them).

2. I’ve been waiting for people to contact me after I apply to these places (I’ve applied to four at this point, and “inquired” with nine others). You know, to let me know “I got the job”. But that’s not the way this works–You don’t “get the job” with these places; it’s a “registry”, so once you’ve registered, they’ll call if and when they need you (Might sound obvious to most of you, but what can I say? I’m not nearly as bright as you might think). So anyway, I kind of wasn’t expecting anyone to call me.

But now I do. So hopefully they will.

____________________

I’ve been edging up on it for awhile, but I finally “made my move”, such as it was, on Cristy, a woman I like at the bookstore.

I don’t know if I have the time or inclination to get into this at length right now, but basically, Cristy is a 30 year old, attractive, slightly overweight brunette, who’s worked at the bookstore for a couple months now, with a sense of humor that dovetails quite nicely with my own.

I like her a lot. Enough to actually consider asking her out (Even when, other than the humor thing, there doesn’t really seem to be much working in my favor).

Anyway, a couple weeks ago, we were talking about movies–I think I was debating whether to see Broken Flowers or The Aristocrats on my next day off, and she mentioned she was kind of interested in seeing The Aristocrats herself (Both of which were playing at my cheap places in Los Feliz).

Okay, The Aristocrats would be a pretty strange “first date” movie, but what the heck–From a previous conversation, I knew that she normally had Wednesdays off (One of my days off), so I “casually” asked if she wanted to see it that Wednesday. You know, like it didn’t really matter to me, one way or the other.

(She works part-time at the bookstore, and part time at The House of Blues, where she counts concert receipts.)

She said she had to work that Wednesday, because she had taken a couple days off the previous week (Which I knew to be the case).

I ended up seeing The Aristocrats that week by myself (I enjoyed it, but I wouldn’t suggest seeing it yourself unless you enjoy outrageously obscene language. It is, after all, a documentary about comedians telling “The World’s Dirtiest Joke”).

Now, I might have considered “I have to work this week” the end of things–“Well, I took my shot...”-- but after a recent trip to South Carolina, Cristy was back at the bookstore yesterday, and after a few minutes of greetings, she told me that when she got back in town, she had went to the Los Feliz to see The Aristocrats, but it was gone, so she saw March Of The Penguins instead, which she enjoyed.

Then she told me what other movies were playing at the theater–Broken Flowers (The Bill Murray movie, that had apparently moved from the Vista to the Los Feliz 3) and The Constant Gardener.

And that confused me: While I noticed, when I asked her to see The Aristocrats and she couldn’t, that she didn’t propose an alternate day, or tell me “If it’s still playing when I get back from my vacation...”, or anything like that, telling me all the movies that were playing there now made it seem like she was maybe opening the door for me to ask her to see one of those.

(What can I say? I have a tiny little flame of hope in my heart when it comes to love, a flame that sputters and flickers constantly, but never quite goes out, in spite of that gale-force wind commonly known as “reality”.)

But she was on the way to the register for the start of her shift, and I was supposed to be at the info counter, and between having to do our jobs, and my natural hesitancy about these things, it wasn’t until shortly before the end of her shift that I worked my way over to the registers and asked her if she would care to see one of the movies in question (“This Wednesday, if that’s still your day off...”).

She didn’t say “yes”. Instead, she said, “I don’t know which one I’d rather see...”. So I said “I’d lean towards Broken Flowers–I’m interested in how little Bill Murray can do and still have it be called ‘acting’--but reviews for The Constant Gardener have been pretty great so far, so I could go either way...”.

At the time, I thought we were actually “discussing” which movie to see, but turns out she was just stalling–Before any decision was made, she had to go up to the restroom, then she asked a manager if she could check out a book in the back, then her shift was over, and she was heading out the door (A register person had called out, so I was on the register for the final shift of the night).

As she left, she said “Goodbye Jim”, and I said “Hey, I’m not working tomorrow night...” (Meaning, “I need an answer here, and I don’t have your number”).

She said “Do you work Thursday?”, which didn’t seem relevant, since I’d asked her out for this coming Wednesday--so I hesitated, since it seemed inappropriate to say either “What does that matter?”, or to ask for her phone number in front of Kate and Niki, the two supervisors who were within earshot at that moment–and she said “We’ll talk” or “I’ll see you later” or some such thing.

It doesn’t really matter what she said, because all she’d really needed to say was “That sounds like fun, Jim. Here’s my number...”.

She’s not interested.

Big shocker–I can’t remember the last time I asked someone out who was remotely interested in going out with me.

What’s it like to be attracted to someone, and have them actually return that attraction?
I remember it happening to me once, but now I think I might have just dreamed it.

____________________

Post Script (Mon 8/29/05 1:09 a.m.)

I almost called him “Leo” just now, but Kipper has finally ventured from his last hiding place, long enough to discover his litter-box, check out his dining area, and accept some petting from his new owner.

He’s also started to claim ownership--of the computer table, my backpack, and my right foot, amongst other things in the vicinity–which I know is a good thing.

Well, this entry has gone on way past “long enough”, so I’m going to shut down operations here, and see if I can continue bonding with my new “roomie”...

 

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