Fake Baggy is almost as obnoxious as Real Baggy (almost)

Maybe two internships wasn't smart? I mean...45 hours a week of not getting paid? Okay, that's not true. Offspring doesn't pay but I do get 30 bucks a week from Weinstein. So....if I spend 30 bucks a week of my own money, and the 30 bucks from Weinstein, I can sustain a living for at least a month. Then I go home, graduate college, hopefully get money from family, and that will sustain me for a little bit longer. Maybe I'll find some sort of flexible weekend job, too. We'll see.

I should be at Universal right now for my last shift. But I skipped it. I want to go running and be productive. I don't want to spend a nice day wearing a straw hat and stamping hands. Most of the people I work(ed) with are either much older than me or obnoxious high school kids, which probably added to my already legitimate reasons for quitting. As for the two internships and quitting my job business...I came out here to work in the industry. Not to work at Unviersal Studios Hollywood. Sure things aren't all that lucrative at the moment but two internships doubles my chances of getting a job, plus doubles my contacts, which doubles my chances of getting my scripts read, which doubles my chances of getting an agent in the future.

I auditioned for Groundlings and passed, so I got into the school. All that means is I don't suck, so I don't have to take the intro workshops. I'm really excited to start next week. Who knows, if I decide I love improv more than writing, I may be back in Chicago sooner than planned. But for now, my plan is to stay in Cali, live with Mike for a year, then next June I'll reevaluate my life and see where I want to be and what I want to do.

Yesterday was the last day of Semester in LA, so if you don't count my online Bio class (which I wouldn't, since I put more effort into making a turkey sandwich than I put into studying), I am officially done with college! Sure, I'm interning, which means I'm still a college student and getting credit and what not. But, as of today I am officially on the "done with class, time to get a real job" train. It's very overwhelming. I already miss SLA. In 24 hours I've gone from going to a bungalow at the CBS Studio Center and hanging out making jokes all day, to being at the absolute bottom of the latter. Luckily, starting Tuesday I get to feel important again when I start at The Weinstein Company and get to work in the Variety building in LA. And even more exciting on Thursday when I go into Offspring Entertainment for the first time, which is on the Walt Disney Studios lot.

Since I skipped work, I'm making up for it by being ultra-productive. Meaning...

1. Finally send out the Thank You cards that I have had for 2 months.
2. Go running.
3. Final revisions of my Earl spec.
4. Laundry.
5. Clean room.
6. Call my grandma.

As of now, I haven't done any of it. I swear, I'll start soon.

Sorry Dani

I promised a chapter eleven, but it turns out the version I wrote a few months ago is gone, so I'm going to have to start over. Disney is a hard one to write about because there's just so much to cover, and I feel overwhelmed just thinking about it. It's like scaling Mount Everest, only without the lack of oxygen and high chance of impending death.

Anyway...Disney. Chapter 11. Some day. I promise.

I just can't be funny and creative in this blog right now. My spec for My Name is Earl basically drained all that out of me. But hot damn I am so proud of how that script turned out. The class really seemed to like it, and even the teachers had a lot of good things to say. Good to know that the tireless nights I stayed up until 4am revising were worth it. I just need to revise it one more time based on the notes from todays table (only four scripts were chosen to be tabled. Mine was chosen by a guest speaker who used to work on Freaks and Geeks and Roseanne. Yeah. Kinda cool.) and I'm officially done with it. Then it will sit around while I intern at The Weinstein Company and Offspring Entertainment, and as I try to find a way to get an agent to read it. I'll probably submit it in my application for the Warner Brothers Writers Workshop, but that program is so competitive and the odds are not in my favor so I'm not going to get my hopes up. Although it would be incredible beyond words.

Today was also my auditon at Groundlings. If all went well, which I'm confident it did, I'll be placed out of the intro workshops and into the actual school.

Then I came back and had to take an online Bio test. Now, I failed the last test, never studied, never read the chapters, don't even own the book, and have no idea what hemoglobin is, but I still managed to get a semi-solid 31/39. Internet classes really should be banned, since Wikipedia pretty much helps those of us who don't care about learning overcome any challenge.

Last night was another 4am night, and I'm starting to pass out. You know when you have those crazy little mini-dreamlike thoughts right before you're about to fall asleep? I think I've been in one all day.

I was wrong

I said I was going to intern at Underground, but I'm not anymore. I just got an internship here

Have I really not blogged in a week???

The parents got mad at me today because I overdrew on my checking and they found out that I'm out of money. They're not mad I'm out of money. They're mad that I didn't call and ask for help. I dunno, I just try to be as self-reliant as possible. They pay for my college and let me do the semester in LA, so asking for anything extra would make me feel guilty. Everything's taken care of, now. And tomorrow I'm setting up a bank account at the Universal credit union for my paychecks. It will be nice to have ATM usage again, since there are no National City Banks out here and it's getting annoying that I have to run inside target and by some Bubble Tape just to get cash back to go to City Walk.

Class is great. I'm bummed it's almost over. We've had some amazing speakers come in and talk to us. Actual successful people, too, not like the halfway-there teachers at Columbia who never seemed to make it. One of the big producers for Malcolm In The Middle came in, and the showrunner for Bernie Mac, and a ton of people that wrote for different shows. Did I ever mention that my teacher was a producer on Full House? I meant to.

I got an internship, but it's not my top choice. I'd love to get something more exciting that's on a lot and has some big names, but none of those people seem to be returning my phone calls or emails, and I think that I better just take what I can get. So, as of now, I will probably be interning at Underground Films (www.undergroundfilms.net). The people there are really cool, and since it's small it's a great opportunity to make contacts with important people. Plus, there's a dog.

I don't feel like writing anymore.

1. I'm going to take more pictures. Well, seeing as how I haven't really taken a single one, I could take a picture of my pinky toe and I've officially lived up to my promise of taking more pictures.

2. Don't expect cheesy pictures of me with random celebrities. Unless I happen across someone that I am a huge fan of, I don't really intend to approach them for a picture or autograph. I just find it incredibly tacky. They're just people.

3. I have no cell phone. Sorry. Stop texting me because I ain't gettin' it.

4. Work started. It's okay. From March 25th - April 15th I am going to be really damn busy. There's a chance I won't have a single day off at all, but I really need money so I'm not complaining.

5. I miss my Chicago friends more and more each day. I love everything out here but I'm not clicking with anyone like I did with everyone at Columbia. I'm sure with work and my upcoming internship and improv class things will pick up, but I'd give anything for some familiar faces. Can't wait for Flavin to get out here.

6. Tatty

sickly

I'm home sick from school but that doesn't mean I have time to rest, unfortunately. I still have errands to run, outlines to write, a FILTHY room to clean, etc. I remember when staying home from school meant laying on the couch drinking Vernors in a cup shaped like a crayon while watching Eureka's Castle. My, how the times have changed. My attitude is changing. Possibly due to the fact that I can never enjoy anything for too long before I start to miss complaining, but mostly I'm just starting to miss Chicago and Michigan. My grandparents are all getting old and I feel like I'm ditching out on the family as their health declines. Not to sound too glib, though. I'm having a great time. Celebrity Watch is up to five sightings now, including Nikki Cox, Harold Parrineau (Michael from Lost), Bob Barker in the cafeteria (sorry Ashley you would bt SO disappointed if you saw him sans make-up), Marisa Jaret Winokur, and Mark McGrath.

Although I am sick today, I still got to go to the Jericho panel last night. The next paragraph is for those people who posted asking for me to write about Paley Fest. If you have no interest in Jericho, just skip this paragraph and go onto the next one.
1. Two deaths are coming up. Pamela Reed says that these were very difficult to deal with because the cast becomes a family.
2. Episode 18 has a HUGE reveal about Hawkins. BIG BIG BIG.
3. By the end of the season we'll know more about the state of the rest of the world. Season 2 (god willing) will go even deeper into that.
4. Skeet Ulrich is just as cool in person as Jake Green.
5. Heather is coming back.
That's about all I can remember right now. The cast was really fun and seems to get along well. We watched the episode that is airing tonight and it's pretty good. A good Hawkins Family episode.

Annnyway, back to the real world, where nuclear attacks have yet to destroy us all. I have an internship interview tomorrow at Booya Studios which is cool because I'm meeting with the owner. They did MTV's Fear, by the way.

I'm also excited for my interview at Offspring Entertainment on Monday because they have an even more extensive list of productions, including the Hairspray movie starring...AMANDA BYNES.

Now I must go to the post office and come back to watch The Riches.

LA cool

I'm keeping quite busy these days. Aside from school and work I'm trying to go out and do as much as I can. Case in point, last night I went to go see two plays that my teacher produced. It was opening night and we got in free, and it was an excellent opportunity to brown nose. Seriously, me? Brown nosing? Has LA changed me that much in such a small period of time? The plays were pretty good. One was about a court room drama and the other was about a couple in a fertility clinic. All of my college education must be paying off because I was able to analyze the themes and characters and figure out why two plays that were so completely different shared the same bill.

Tonight I'm staying in. I have another day of orientation at Universal tomorrow and I'm already tired and with daylight savings time...I'm just not up to going out. That's right, anyone who hasn't seen my updated facebook info may not know this. I have officially accepted a job at Universal Studios Hollywood. I knew the Disney College Program would come back to help me out later on in life. I have enough money for April's rent but not much else, so this is a good way for me to make spending money. I'm actually really excited to be back in a theme park. When we first walked backstage (yes, Universal calls it "backstage" also), I remembered how exciting it was and how important I felt when I first got to go behind the scenes at Disney World. It will be a good job. It will be flexible around my internship, which is what's most important.

Tuesday I'm going to Hollywood for the Museum of Television and Radio's Paley Festival Panel with the cast and crew of Jericho. Yes, ladies, even Skeet Ulrich will be there. I'm really excited for this. I've started watching episodes of the show online to catch up and be prepared. It's actually pretty good. I recommend it to anyone with similar tastes as me. Baggy will be disappointed to know that the panel with the entire cast and crew of Heroes was tonight and I did not attend. That one sold out fast and was by far the biggest night of the festival. I went to try to get standby tickets, but it didn't seem promising so I left.

Wednesday I'm seeing a show at Groundlings. I dropped my pointless improv class because of work, and because I realized that I'm a bit more advanced than Basic Level Workshop A. I have an audition for a higher on the 19th.

Friday I'm going to a taping of Two and a Half Men. I really don't like this show. At all. But it's a good experience and should be fun. Plus, when you watch live shows being taped, everything is always HILARIOUS. Like Leno. When you're in the studio and he gives his monologue, he's the funniest man in the world. Then you watch that episode at night and barely crack a smile. The magic of television, I suppose.

This was boring. I didn't even try to be clever and insightful. But look how much fun stuff I'm doing!!!!

I get two free tickets to Universal. First two people who come out here get them. It's a new competition.

a cautionary tale. presented to you by your local produce section

I was going to die. I was sure of it. This was the moment. My twenty-two years on earth had all led up to this, my final breath. I guess my fear of plane crashes was unwarrented. Who would of known that something so small, so every day, was going to be the death of me. Not even those with the wildest of imaginations could have predicted that tomato salad would be the catalyst of my untimely demise. Would a psychic have known? Would a palm reader look at my hand as be able to tell me, "You are going to die when you try to choke down a grotesque tomato salad, because you want to be polite and clean your plate?"

Luckily, I survived to tell the tale. Tomato salad did not do me in. It came awfully close, but I shall live on, perhaps a little wiser for the wear. But if I had died, I would have accepted full responsiblity. I am the soul person who is liabal for very event, every small moment, and every decision that led me up to the tomato salad of doom.

I needed a place to live in LA. As a full time college student with a decent but by no means spectacularly high-paying job as an office assistant, my piggy bank wasn't exactly overflowing. My lack of funds meant that I would never be able to afford the prestiguous Oakwood apartments. I had to resort to more economical opportunities. If I wanted to find a place, I would need to do something a little bit unconventional.

Which led me to Andy and Pam. A friend of mine had told me that their neighbors were looking to sublet a bedroom in their house, and the rent was reasonable. Actually, it was beyond reasonable. It was a steal beyond compare. I seized the opportunity, thinking only of the cheap rent and my sunny and fabulous life in Los Angeles. I did not, however, think about the fact that I would be sharing a house with completely strangers. Three, to be exact. There was Andy and Pam, the married couple, and Steve, the detective who lived in the basement but was never there. At first I thought that Steve was made up, and that Andy and Pam were insane and planned on killing me. The evidence started piling up for this theory. On my first day in the house, they put a plastic cover on my mattress. I was, of course, certain that this was to protect the mattress from stains when they snuck in my room in the middle of the night to chop me to bits with a hacksaw. I did, however, finally meet Steve. He was, in fact, a detective. I instantly felt better about living in the house with strangers. They couldn't kill someone under their own roof with a detective in the basement, could they? Well, I suppose if the detective was corrupt and in on the whole plot, they could. But I tried not to think about that.

The days went by and I still woke up every morning, all of my limbs in tact, in a squeaky bed. There were awkward moments, since these were complete strangers, even something as every day as packing a lunch can be a tad uncomfortable when you're doing it in someone else's kitchen. Someone who you have known for less than a fortnight. I kept to myself as much as possible. I'd try to eat big lunches so that I didn't have to leave my room for food in the evenings. Don't get me wrong, they were nice people, it was just an incredibly weird situation. You'd handle it the same way, I'm sure.

One day I got home from school early, and Andy was home for his lunch break. He had a colleauge from the office over and planned on grilling some bratwursts. Now, I hate bratwurst, so when Andy asked me if I'd like to join them for lunch, a polite decline would have been the best response. But I had barely taken the time to get to know these people and I felt if I was going to be staying in their home for three months, I couldn't rely on being a recluse at every moment of the day. Having brats with these business men was just a small step towards making this house a home.

I'm not a fan of tomatoes. I hate them. Sometimes, when I'm feeling lazy, I won't bother to take them off of my taco or hamburger, but for the most part I could definitely live in a world sans tomatoes. Andy apparently loves tomatoes. So much, in fact, that his idea of a salad is to cut up tomatoes and douse them in some sort of horrid vinegar dressing that I can only describe as the urine of death. I had gotten through the bratwurst just fine, but these pile of soggy, oozing tomatoes was staring at me relentlessly the entire time. Finally, I knew I had to knuckle down and get through this. I had to be polite, right? I couldn't just leave a whole serving of tomato salad on my plate. Not when he had made it from scratch just moments before. Had I been so opposed to the consumption of tomatoes, the moment he started cutting them up for salad would have been the most opportune moment to declare my distate for them. Alas, that moment had passed, and I had no other options.

A trick I learned from eating disgusting food when I was younger: swallow and don't chew. Chewing leads the food spending even more time on your taste buds, which, obviously, leads to tasting. What you want to do is get the food as far back in your mouth as possible and swallow it whole. This worked for a few bites of the salad. The problem was that the tomatoes were cut rather large, and so I was swallowing fairly substantial sizes. Each bite got worse and worse. My gag reflex began to kick in. But I had to keep going. I had to prove to these two people, one whom I live with and have to see every day, the other a man I've never met before in my life but still seemed rather judgmental (and that intimidated me), that I could clean my plate. I'm an adult and I can eat a plate of tomatoes, see?

It was the last tomato that did me in. My esophagus couldn't take anymore. It contracted and refused to let the chunk of tomato budge. I couldn't swallow it, I couldn't cough it up, and I sure as hell couldn't panic and let the others know I was choking. So I sat there politely, choking to death, tears beginning to well in my eyes, wondering how Andy was going to explain this to my parents.

"Well, we were sitting there eating tomato salad, which he seemed to really enjoy since he ate all of it, and then he just dropped dead into his plate."

Then I thought about my funeral, and how they'd probably serve tomato salad on account of the fact that I enjoyed it so much that I allowed it to take my life.

Somehow, let's just chalk it up to Deus Ex Machina, the chunk of tomato, which in retrospect was roughly the size of Jupiter, passed through my throat and I could breath again. Andy and the stranger never knew how close I was to death, and I learned a valuable lesson about eating vegetables.

Kidz Bop: Horrifyingly True Tales!

Tonight we went to karaoke at the Oakwood. The Oakwood is pretty notorious for being the number one haven for child actors and their disturbingly over-dedicated parents. This means that this is not the kind of karaoke night that you or I may be used to. It's not really karaoke night at all. It's an excuse for the parents to get their kids up on stage and exploit them one last time before the day is through. It's a mixture of hilarious ("OH MY GOD DID SHE JUST THROUGH HER COWBOY HAT INTO THE CROWD???), heartbreaking ("these kids are getting set up for failure, their parents should take them home and let them be kids.), and just plain fucking adorable ("awww she knows all the words to that High School Musical song and she's only four!).

You're not really sure what to make of the whole thing. There's a large woman who walks around and passes out candy to everyone, but she gives dirty looks to anyone over the age of fifteen, claiming that she "may not be a mother, but she's a great-aunt forty-five times over, and she knows how rude teenagers can be." There's also Karaoke man. You never see him, but you hear his ominous voice throughout the entire show. Much like the Wizard of Oz, you feel both threatened and in awe of his power, even though he is really nothing more than a man with a microphone and a few instrumental CDs. Also, when he says things like "Hannah and Marie are singing 'So Yesterday.' Is it me, or is that song so yesterday???" the level of awe, as well as the level of being threatened, plummet drastically.

The kids are surprisingly supportive of each other. They all sit in the front and cheer for each other and talk excitedly in between songs. I guess I figured there would be more backstabbing and complaining but it seems that the parents do most of that.

Seriously though, I couldn't get enough of it. The choreography. The pretensiousness. The clothes. Oh God, the clothes. Should eleven year olds be wearing tanktops with mini-skirts? Should they have highlights? Should they be wearing make-up? No. They should be pissing their pants and watching Nickelodeon. It's crazy.

One boy sang "Livin' La Vida Loca" and he took his shirt off in the beginning. He was wearing a wifebeater underneath. And wanna know what's really twisted? People CHEERED when he took his shirt off. A little boy is stripping and parents are cheering. How disturbing is that? It was almost as bad as the oversexed trio of eleven-year-old-girls channeling their inner Britney and singing "I Love Rock & Roll." "Channeling their inner Britney," of course, is a euphamism for "gyrating provacatively on each other, groaning and moaning as if participating in coital activities on stage, and doing everything that a good parent would raise their kids to do better than."

sing...until your lungs give out

I hate the new Fall Out Boy song. I swear, I do. But for some reason that defies all laws of science, I find myself turning it up and singing along when I'm driving to Studio City with my windows down every morning. It's a terrible, terrible song, though. I do realize that. But...I just can't help it. This ain't a sceeeeeeeene.

I'm really enjoying myself out here. A lot. I know that a lot of that has to do with the fact that it's barely been a week and I'm still in the honeymoon phase, and that soon the novelty of going to class at CBS Studios will wear off and I'll start to miss Chicago and everyone back there. And I'll of course find ways to make myself miserable like always. I have friends out here, which is good. I saw Rob last night, and I'm friends with the neighbors and with a bunch of people from class, but I just don't see myself meeting another group like the gang back in Chicago. Don't cry for me, though. I'm having the time of my life.

Through some sort of combination of my desire to always be busy and my paranoia that I am spending too much money, I have started the process of getting a job. Disney is too far from where I live in Burbank, but Universal Studios is right down the street, and so I have a second interview there on Monday. I could have gotten a job working a ride, but my availability didn't work out with that because of school. So instead I'm interviewing to work the front gate. I would do this until SLA is over, and then either transfer to one of the attractions or audition to be a studio tour guide. I'll most likely pursue the tour guide option. Since I have to have an internship to graduate, and most internships don't pay, it's probably wise for me to get a job. I loved working the turnstiles at Disney so I think I might enjoy this.

I still don't have an internship lined up, but I still have a month. I'm not all that concerned about finding one, since I've already been in contact with several people, and the only reason that nothing has worked out is because I'm not available until the end of March and they all need people now.

I think I'm finally coming to the realization that I am indeed laying the foundation to build a life out here. Maybe not forever, but for a while. Not much of a surprise, though. We all knew deep down that I wasn't coming back to Chicago.

The married couple is super nice, if not slightly awkward still. They offer me dinner a lot, which is nice, and the guy showed me around while the girl showed me how to work the TiVo in case I wanted to watch every episode of American Idol ever aired (I HAVE always wanted to see Fantasia Barrino take home the gold...). I've only seen the detective twice, which is a bummer because they say he has really good stories to tell and I'm interested in hearing them, but he is home for about fifteen minutes twice a week and that's it. No Dani, he doesn't wear a detective coat. But he does wear suspenders. I think it's a rule that detectives wear suspenders. I think it's so that their pants don't fall down and interfere with a crime scene.

In a few weeks I'm going to a big Museum of Radio & Television Panel with the cast and crew of Jericho. So now I'm catching up on every episode so far so that I have at least a slight idea of what's going on. Jericho wasn't my first choice, but The Office, Heroes, Dexter, Nip/Tuck, and The Simpsons were sold out already. I may show up for the Heroes one next week and see if I can get a standby ticket, if only to see how plastic Hayden Panitierre looks in real life.

I'm also going to the taping of a pilot. I read the script of it and I can tell you with a fairly decent amount of certainty that you will never see this show on the air because it's not funny at all. Molly Shannon is in it, though. But does that really mean anything anymore?