Jess Dangles, Brokedown Palace, Double Feature, and Roadside Assistance

It's funny. I know of nobody else in the world who complains more than Jess Dangles and me. Nobody. "It's too hot. It's too cold. This food is too salty. I don't want to hang out with people. I don't want to eat there. That's too expensive. It's going to be boring. It's going to be loud."

Yet, for being so hyper-critical of absolutely EVERYTHING, we always find a way to take the most mundane, some might even say boring, situations and have a blast with them. Case in point, we never went out when she was here last weekend. We stayed in both nights and still had a wonderful time playing games and drinking by the pool. Sure, there was the small mishap of everyone going to see Demon Baby and me neglecting to inform them that the theatre had no air conditioning, but all was forgiven once Jess got back into down to normal body temperature. We also had good times at the beach despite the nightmare of parking, and even on Sunday night all it took was a cheap restaurant with decent beer and pizza (and a bug on the plate [according to the bus boy it was a piece of bread. Shut the fuck up, bus boy]) for Zach, Jess and me to have an amazing, hilarious, LOLing good time. The reason for this is simple, I think. We hate complications and inconvenience. We love easy and accessible. We like being loud and saying inappropriate things and relishing in the fact that we have absolutely horrible social demeanor. If it's ridiculous...say it. If it's offensive...say it louder. If it makes absolutely no sense even to you and you are the one forming the words...(i.e. "Bay you see that ChitownBurbank native at Vawns by way of LAX go get some Starbucks and a frapp because he's by way of LAX and needs a soft serve even though its totes brr?")...perfect.

In other news -oh, and I apologize now. This is a long post- I am going to China in April of 2009. I am very, very close to being able to afford a ticket, and then I have 9 more months to save up spending money. I've always wanted to go to Shanghai and if I don't do it while one of my best friends is living there, I doubt I ever will. This has been in the works for a while, but a combination of my desire to expand my horizons for the sake of my writing and that Where The Hell is Matt video that everyone is posting (but I won't post it here in a transparent and blatant but ultimately inconsequential attempt to appear non-conformist) made me think that now is the time in my life where I need to be exploring and learning and creating and having fun and making memories. (See: I'm just nervous that my desk job and 40+ hour work weeks are going to suck the soul out of me). What's funny about the impending China trip is how AGAINST the entire idea my mother is. She isn't just frowning upon it. She is hopping mad. She does NOT want me going to China. Why? Brokedown Palace. The movie with Claire Danes. She saw it on Lifetime. Nevermind the fact that Claire and Kate get busted in THAILAND. Nevermind that it's a MOVIE. Nevermind she saw it on LIFETIME. If I go to China I will be set up by foreign druglords and doomed to spend the rest of my life in an unruly third world prison. It's inevitable.

Unfortunately, Demon Baby was not voted on last week. I am not sad, nor do I dwell on it because I know that the audience enjoyed it and we did really well, so I will conclude that I am proud of myself and leave it at that. Plus, I was asked to come back and be in someone else's piece. It wasn't a big part, but it's cool to get noticed and meet new people and perform in something that someone else has created...as opposed to improv which you make up as you go, and a piece that you write and direct yourself. On top of that, my Improv class has our graduation show on Saturday...so I got to be on stage twice. Good thing Jess wasn't here this weekend because I wouldn't have seen her at all on that day. She would have murdered me. That's not even hyperbole. She would have. Triple digit temperatures get her acting all shades of crazy.

I got twenty bucks last Thursday. When I was getting off the 101 in Studio City, the car in front of me came to a stop and put on their hazards. Out hopped a tiny little red-haired lady, waving her hands and shouting out "No gas! Go around!" So I obliged and pulled into the next lane. My windows were down and she asked for a ride to the gas station. Now...yes. I know. Picking up a stranger on the side of the freeway is a terrible, terrible thing to do. It is also EXACTLY the sort of thing I would do with no hesitation or consideration. In my defense, she was petite, well-dressed, and drove a nice car. She wasn't a crazy. She could have been a high-powered Hollywood executive! Well, she wasn't...but she did work in casting and she was very nice and appreciative. I took her to the Chevron, let her fill up one of those red plastic things, then took her back to her car. She gave me twenty bucks, which I politely refused, but only because that is what is customary when offered money, even when you know you the person offering will not except your refusal and you still want said money very badly. It was my good deed for the day. And a good story to tell. Too bad she didn't rape me. That would have been an even better story.