10:56 pm - Weds 1/24/07
Just got off the phone with Garrett P., who left a voicemail on my cell yesterday, having recently seen the "Bahamavention" commercial.
(I worked with Garrett back in Lansing, at Schuler Books. We've had some contact out here in LA--He's on the tech side of "The Biz", while you already know what I do--but it's been quite awhile, and it was really nice talking to him; in addition to our obvious overlapping interests in tv and film, he's also a big action figure geek, so it was fun to talk with someone about that stuff without shame or embarrassment.)
He's going away for the weekend with his girlfriend, but suggested we do something when he gets back.
A.J. (From Borders) also called me recently, prompted by another "Bahamavention" sighting (That's a nice side-benefit of this tv/commercial stuff; I like when people I know see it, and are motivated to re-connect with me).
Have a commercial audition tomorrow, for a promo--Or maybe a series of promos, I'm not sure--for The Learning Channel (I'm not the "hero" guy, I'm one of the hero-guy's friends; the "hero" has a serious case of middle-aged "arrested development", and his friends are, if anything, even more juvenile than he is. Which sounds like fun).
Haven't been doing very well the past couple days--really tired, not in good spirits, just...not happy.
And last night didn't help; After a fairly shitty night at work, I got home around 3:00 a.m., and when I went into the kitchen to refill Kipper's water-bowl, the cold-water faucet--which had just been "fixed"--came off in my hand.
This time, instead of the sink overflowing and flooding the apartment, the water was a geyser, splattering the ceiling and walls, along with the personal effects I'd just moved into the kitchen (to clear the floor in the living room so they could rip out the carpet , which had been soaked from the previous episode of "Water Gone Wild").
The apartment manager is right across the hall from me, so I ran out and rather forcefully knocked on his door (Both because I was pissed and because it was a genuine emergency).
After all but kicking the door in, George answered, then got dressed and came into my apartment.
As he struggled to turn the water off, I moved things to higher, dryer ground--which is getting harder and harder to come by these days--all the while strongly suggesting, in fairly colorful language, that the handyman they use is not, in fact, very "handy" at all.
(I'd responded to the first incident in a pretty "Oh well. Shit happens" kind-of-way. But now I was feeling something more along the lines of "This is fucking bullshit".)
This morning, Yvette-George's wife--knocked on my door, offering, in addition to replacing the living room floor, to have the apartment re-painted.
George and the guy who's going to do the work came in this afternoon to size up the job, which is going to be happening over tomorrow and Friday.
Such is the life of a big-time star...
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