An American Bystander

Greetings Blog-o-sphere:

I have had the week off, and can honestly say that I've accomplished almost nothing. I'm not specifically complaining, but I am almost ready for this vacation and holiday season to come to an end.

I got a new camera a couple of months ago, and now know how to work it, get pictures to my computer, etc. The camera itself is wildly crappy (like $80 crappy), but it's fine for my needs.

I've taken a few pictures of Tessie, and I'll paste those below now.






Playing poker tonight, then brunch with my friend Gib in the a.m., then Tuesday off, then back to work on Wednesday. Happy New Year!

Another four months without a single post. And much to report (the vast majority of which I'm sure I'll forget).

First off, I've officially gotten my own IMDB page. Yes, I've arrived in Los Angeles. Look out, world. Granted, it was for something that I'd rather die than ever do again (extras casting for a feature film), but it nevertheless has sparked in me the tiniest desire to see a few more credits added in the future. Go to http://www.imdb.com, and search for Daniel Kells. I know, the excitement must be palpable.

The work was part of my assisting C. Jay on his directorial project, "Kiss the Bride," starring Tori Spelling. I never had an opinion of Tori one way or the other prior to the movie, but I can say now with commanding certainty, she's a pretty fantastic woman. Smart, funny, down-to-earth, lovely, pregnant, and married to one of the nicest guys you could hope to meet (Dean McDermott). It was my first time being able to chat with Hollywood celebrity-types, and I'm thrilled to report they were great ambassadors for the rest of the lot.

The film was a tiring and difficult project for me, as I ended up doing three jobs: I was C. Jay's personal assistant, did the background casting, and was also a production assistant for the last two weeks of filming. While it wasn't the most enjoyable experience of my life (5:00 a.m. calltimes? are you freeeeking kidding me?), I did learn a bit about what I do and don't want to do in the film business.

On that subject, I haven't written a damn thing towards finishing a screenplay. Hopefully soon... I'm taking some time to myself over the holidays, and with any luck I'll get back into the swing.

In other news... I've moved. Into a one-bedroom place in Hollywood (in the building I used to live in... long story). But the place is fabulous, and I couldn't be happier.

As for the four vices: two are out of control, two in control (isn't that always the way?). No sex and no gambling these days, but lordy I am eating like Sally Struthers at a Sizzler, and smoking pot like a fiend. Grrr.

For whatever it's worth, I've posted a few very small videos on youtube. You can search for videos posted by "anamericanbystander" to see them. Two are wildly boring (tours of my old and new places), one is cute (my good friend Alex dancing with her father at her wedding), and the other is truly lovely (Alex sharing her fisrt dance with David, her husband). Check them out! They were shot with a wildly inexpensive camera bought on the walk to Alex and David's wedding (at St. Patrick's Cathedral!) for $89. You get what you pay for, I guess.

So I think that's about it for now. I'd say I promise to write more soon, but that will only lead to crushing disappointment.

All in the blog-osphere, fear not! I have not disappeared from the face of the earth, just from the face of the internet. It has been a busy four (!!!) months since my last posting, and I am sorry for those of you waiting with bated breath for information on the life of Daniel.

I only have a few moments to spare right now, but here is a very quick update on my life and vices...

1. I quit my job with Menopause the Musical. While certainly things got a bit nutty with my bosses (and I totally turned into an e-bitch as a result, sending lots of e-mails in ALL CAPS), the truth is things will be getting so busy for me in other ways that jumping ship from Menopause made the most sense.

2. C. Jay Cox, the screenwriter and director that I assist, is about to go into pre-production for an indie flick that he'll be directing. As a result my hours with him will get ratcheted up post-Labor Day. Should be exciting. I'll be doing whatever he needs on-set, plus try and keep his life in order at home while the movie is doing 14-hour days.

3. Puppetry of the Penis: Nothing much going on there, but...

4. The fine folks who brought you Puppetry are producing a show called Club KidzBop, touring Six Flags amusement parks all summer. I have signed on as a road producer of sorts, doing my best to help the tour along, keeping the performers and staff happy, etc., etc. It has required quite a bit of traveling, which is just beginning to wear me down. So far, I've been to Louisville, Atlanta, southern New Jersey, western Massachusetts, Buffalo, and yet to come is Lake George (upstate NY), Denver, Chicago, and finally Valencia, CA. Great pay, really sweet people, and lots of bad bad food...


So that's the work view for now. As for vices, well... let's just say when things get busy, vice-control goes out the window. Eating like a machine and smoking pot like a fiend. The gambling's not been bad at all, thanks mostly to a great Saturday night poker game that has very low stakes while stroking my desire to risk a few bucks... And as for sex, well, nobody's a knockin', so I can proudly say that one is well under control. (Okay, well not totally proudly, but whatever...)


My great friend Brian (and former assistant, I taught him everything he knows...) will be visiting later this month, as his web-obsession Snakes on a Plane (and his out of control weblog www.snakesonablog.com) have led him to a trip to L.A. for the premiere. It will be great to visit with him.

And I'll be seeing my mom and step-dad in Vegas on the 21st of Augsut for a fabulously overpriced dinner. We'll be dining at Michael Mina Bellagio, a top-rated seafood restaurant at the Bellagio Casino. Stay tuned for a review...

And that's about it for now. More soon, I (sort of) promise.

I haven't posted in a couple of weeks... But never fear! I'm back.

Some rambling thoughts on me and the world, in no particular order.

Working for Menopause the Musical has been great. A bit nutty, but great. The actresses with whom I'm working are a blast, the show isn't that difficult at all, and the commute (knock wood) hasn't been that bad yet.

Things with C. Jay are going very well. He's working on a horror re-write called Zoe August. He's got about 30 pages to bang out to finish the first draft, but so far it's shaping up to be a killer (pun intended) script.


I used to like Lou Dobbs. He's the slightly chubby host of a news show on CNN. He went from a mostly impartial anchor to an all-out biased commentator, all over the immigration debate. And there was this little PR push to try and tell the rest of the world that he's the authority on immigration. He's not. And he's wrong. He is fixated on the fact that protesters carry flags from their home countries. Please. Talk about ignoring any real issues simply because your panties are in a bunch is pointless news coverage. Here's my opinion on immigration; let me know what you think. (Also, let me know if I used my semicolon correct in that last sentence.) Build a huge wall. Secure the border. Cut off illegal immigration. But, at the same time, provide amnesty (yes, amnesty) of some sort to the men, women and children already here for the crime of being here. Then, provide a penalty for the crime of crossing our border illegally. Back taxes, a probationary period, something.

John McCain is a putz. It's been sad to see him go from straight-talker (though I honestly never totally trusted him) to ass-kisser of the right.

So that's about it for this moment. More soon, I (sort of) promise.

That's right friends! I'm in San Francisco.

And you'd think a big ole 'mo like me would be in his glory. But, I hate gay bars... So given the choice of a hundred or so gay bars in this city, I still chooose to vegetate in my hotel room. Ah it's a glamorous life I lead...

So I'm up here training to be the stage manager for Menopause the Musical. Here for two more nights, then back to L.A. to begin rehearsals. Should be miserable. But, at the tail end is a decent paying job for not a lot of work...

Not much else is going on other than that. I will do my best to wake up at a resonable hour tomorrow and take the ferry over to Sausilito (sp?). It's a beautiful ride right past Alkatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge. There's a little cafe over there that I'm particularly fond of. From there, back to the city. It'll probably be the only touristy thing I get to do, but I'm not complaining.

So vices... Pot: I've failed. I've smoked. At first it was OPP (other people's pot), but now... Sex: Still none (though still none being offered). I haven't had a drink (but didn't really drink before Lent began so that really doesn't count), and I still haven't gambled. Good for me...

Never fear blog-o-maniacs! I'm back.

Much has happened since last I blogged. The Oscars came and went, Project Runway crowned a winner, the Gay Porn Awards were handed out, and... and... I haven't smoked pot since Saturday!

Okay, so I missed Lent by a few days with the whole giving up the green, but better late than never. As always, absolutely no guarantees that this time will last forever, but a good detox every now and then certainly has done me well in the past... We'll see how this one goes.

On the Lenten scorecard, the pot's been kicked (late), gambling's been shelved (thanks to a Fat Tuesday visit to Las Vegas), and no sex for me (not that I was getting any before Lent, but whatever). As for food, well, I'm hoping the lack of midnight munchies will help with that...

So the Oscars. Some thoughts. As I blogged last week, I thought "Crash" was the better film. That said, it was still pretty shocking that "Brokeback Mountain" lost. Also, as predicted, there was plenty of articles on-line about why "Brokeback" lost, including lots of speculation that it was a backlash against the gays. Who knows if it's true or not that Academy voters didn't watch the movie and that's why they didn't vote for it. I guess only the members themselves know one way or the other, but I can't help but doubt it a little as it still took down Best Screenplay and Best Director.

As for the rest of the Oscars: I thought the telecast itself was a total mess. Cameras visible in a couple of shots, bad transitions into and out of commercials, the music playing underneath entire speeches was a total disaster, and "Crash" pulls off one of the biggest Oscar upsets in recent memory and they don't even let both producers give speeches. Tacky. Reece's speech was lovely; P.S. Hoffman was great; George Clooney was fantastic (though slightly undeserved); Matt Dillon was beyond hot; Naomi Watts' dress was a mess; Jennifer Garner looks beautiful; Nicole Kidman is tall; Kathleen "Bird" York's song from "Crash" was mesmerizing; the interpretive dance behind her song and the "Pimp" song was absurd and whoever came up with that idea should be shot; Dolly Parton and Joan Rivers were a hoot when they talked before the show (Dolly: "You knew me when I was a B cup." Joan: "Actually I wasn't allowed in the delivery room."); and Jon Stewart was good but not great, too safe for my money.

Okay, enough about the Oscars.

Project Runway ended wonderfully. I was rooting for Daniel V. to pull it out, and was nervous that he would crash and burn after Part 1 last week. But, happily, his collection came out beautifully. But, it was Chloe's night, and her collection was an absolute stunner. The judges kept saying that it was a tough choice... Hopefully that was grandstanding for the cameras.

And tonight was the Gay Porn Awards. For those of you that don't know this little tidbit about me... I'm a judge. I only stayed for the first two hours or so (open bar and buffet time), then bailed. It's a strange affair the whole awards thing. Think of porn stars like actors in a McDonalds commercial. Actors with small hands make the burgers look bigger. Likewise, porn stars who are 5'6" and under make the... well, you get the idea. On the one hand, it makes me feel tall being surrounded by all these petite men, but on the other hand it sort of spoils all the fantasies... Ah well. One thing's for sure: this is one giftbag my mom won't be nagging me to send her...

So that's about it. Oh, this is the final weekend of Menopause the Musical at the Coronet in Los Angeles. The show has been very good to me this past year. I don't think I would have survived in L.A. without ushering and running the follow-spot there. It's going to be very odd to not be going there after Sunday.

I heard an interview with this man's mother on NPR this morning. It brought me to tears.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11331922/

She talked about supporting her son through the triumph of eighteen nominations, and eighteen losses. She said that whenever somebody else's name is read instead of her son's, that that is another mother's day to see her son or daughter honored. She, though, doesn't need any Oscar to affirm what she already knows about her son. That, and she met George Clooney at the Nominee's Luncheon, so who really cares what happens anymore? Very sweet and funny.

I looked at a few studios this morning. One was nice, with a huge deck and a killer view. Another had the same view, a slightly smaller deck, but the actual studio space was way small. The third was quirky and old, and had a nice patio and private garden. I wasn't really sold on any of them. Oh, and none of them included parking, which isn't necessarily a huge problem for the neighborhood where they were located, but the whole point of moving is parking, so I think I'm going to pass on them.

I will meet with my landlord on Tuesday to see what other apartments he has in the area. He seems willing to give me a deal on rent, so I'm hopeful we'll find something.

Okay, here are my Oscar predictions (and who I'd rather see win in parenthesis):

Best Picture: Brokeback Mountain (Crash)
Best Director: Ang Lee (Ang Lee)
Best Actress: Reece Whitherspoon (Reece Whitherspoon)
Best Actor: P.S. Hoffman (Joicaim Phoenix)
Best Supporting Actress: Rachel Weitz (Frances McDormand)
Best Supporting Actor: George Clooney (Matt Dillon)

More later!

So this is it: two days until the Oscars and you can feel the excitement in the air.

Well, actually, no. I can't really feel anything in the air. But you can feel something on the roads, as Hollywood Blvd. is closed, making my entire neighborhood a godawful mess to drive around... Luckily, I barely leave my house so I don't have to worry about it too much.

I did go to Vegas this week, but left on Monday rather than Sunday as originally planned. No shows for me, but did have a fabulous dinner at Elise, at the top of the Palms Hotel.

The view: Breathtaking.

The service: Pretty good, though when you're paying those types of prices you expect things to lower from the left and raise from the right... This they did not do.

The madras: Too much vodka. Almost every bartender makes this mistake. Even though you're charging me $16 for this cocktail (okay, you're charging my stepfather's company $16), don't think I will only appreciate the drink if there's a whole bunch of liquor it in.

The sparkling water: Perrier. Couldn't they find another brand that seems less "three bottles for $1.99" at the local Ralph's Supermarket?

The appetizers in general: A very long list of lots of things that I love, but it seemed that every dish had at least one thing I don't like... Sort of frustrating.

My appetizer: Prawns in some sort of sauce with mini sausage and mushrooms and some other vegetable. The prawns were fabulous and the sauce to die for (all happily soaked up onto wedges of bread from the breadbasket), but the veges were odd.

The dinners in general: Only about 1/3 the number of choices of appetizers. Two steaks, two seafood dishes, the requisite chicken dish, a duck dish, and a vegetarian dish (for the hippies).

My dinner: I had the filet mignon crusted in pepper with asparagus and a potato thing. Steak was great (though not as fabulous as Boston's Grill 23 peppercrusted steak), the veges okay, and the potato thing to die for.

The desserts in general: Myehh... Nothing jumped out at me, so I snacked on some butter cookies that were put on the table to accompany my mother's souffle (which, for the record, was also myehhh...).


Anyway, not much else to report at this moment. I've got to get back to work (I'm at C. Jay's, typing away while eating my lunch). I'm ushering tonight at Menopause, then running follow-spot tomorrow night. Sunday ushering both shows then watching the Oscars over at Alex's (don't be jealous Courtney!).

Oh, and in the good news department: Looks like I'm officially the stage manager for Menopause when it moves to Upland. Hooray!

The Oscars are fast approaching.

Courtney saw Brokeback Mountain today, and is in agreement: Crash is a better movie. And while I'd probably vote for Crash if I were an Adademy member, I hope Brokeback Mountain wins, mostly because I don't want to hear about a "gay backlash."

Tessie is giving me the evil eye. It's almost time for her to be walked. I can always tell when she wants a walk because she jumps off the sofa (where she is generally entangled in my feet) and crosses to the loveseat and sits there and just sort of looks at me. I assume she's sending "let's get outta here and wander the neighborhood aimlessly sniffing dog piss" signals to me. But, there's a documentary on the tsunami on the History Channel right now, and I'm sort of glued to it.

So while I finish this documentary, ignore my dog's subliminal messages, I figured I would put out into the world some impressions of the Olympics.

1. They suck.

2. While I have no particular sporting abilities, I still laugh when ice dancers fall.

3. I enjoyed watching Lindsey Jacobelis fall. I'm sorry, it's probably wrong to get pleasure out of it. But she totally tried showboating, and paid the price. After they showed her coach and parents realizing that she had wiped out, I sort of wanted to see the representative from Visa ripping up a contract.

4. Dick Button, who calls the figure skating, is a putz. I suspect they've been spoken to about toning down their comments during routines because they were much quieter during the ice dancing. I wish I could read that memo.

5. NBC sucks. Spoilers, people, spoilers. During the first-run of the primetime Olympics, don't suggest I check out your website, where you feature front-and-center the results of the event I'm breathlessly watching. (Okay, I haven't watched anything breathlessly, but it sounded good.) Anyway, I wish I was a Nielson family so that NBC could see me changing the channel and watching the Daily Show instead.

6. Bryant Gumbel expressed his opinion. Why does everybody have to jump down his throat about it?


So enough about the Olympics.

I'm going to Vegas on Sunday for two nights. My mom will be there, so I'll get to visit with her. I'm thinking about trying to get a ticket to Avenue Q.

It's looking like I'm going to be stage managing Menopause the Musical in Upland, CA. It'll be a bitch of a commute, but the $$ is pretty good.

Okay, the documentary has gone downhill, so I'm going to take Tessie for a spin.

It's after 2:00 a.m. and I'm still awake. And it's not like there's anything good on TV to keep me up, and it's not like I'm writing so much I just can't go to sleep for fear of losing my mojo... So no good reason I guess.

Things are decent at this moment, though there is still a lingering question about whether Menopause the Musical will ask me to work the Upland production. If they don't, I might have to scrounge around for another part-time job to round out my work with C. Jay. I will probably try and call somebody tomorrow in the hopes of getting a status on my application.

I got my OutFest submission in, but just barely. I have to complete the full script by March 1, and have barely scratched the surface. It'll be a nail-biter, but I guess I like it that way.

I finally downloaded pics from my shitty digital camera, and will attempt to post a couple of those pics here.

The first couple will be of my dog Tessie taken down on Huntington Beach, where dogs can play off-leash. The other is a pic of me and my friend Esra taken at my friend Lincoln's Australian meat pie shop in Manhattan.

I thought this would be an out-of-control week, but it looks like I'll skate through.

I did a stand-up comedy routine last night, as Uncle Clyde's Comedy Contest at the Ice House in Pasadena. I invited a bunch of people, but one by one they canceled because of the distance. In reality, the drive wasn't that bad, but oh well. Rey, Jan and Alex were there.

This was Rey's first time seeing me perform, and he seemed relieved that I didn't suck. Jan has seen me a few times, and was encouraging. Alex had only seen me once, in a strange basement club with an audience of four, so this was a good chance for her to see if I could make more than four people laugh.

I went faster than I should have. I haven't watched the tape yet, but I'm pretty sure I didn't drop anything that I had planned on saying... I think I just breezed right through. I'll watch the tape tonight or tomorrow and see what I might've dropped.

I didn't win, which was fine. When all of the comedians were huddled up prior to the start of the show, Dave the MC advised us all to not focus on the contest aspect of the show. I remember him saying that the last time I did this show, but I think I actually heard it this time. Also, the guy who I thought was the funniest, got the most laughs, had (what seemed to me) the strongest skills, didn't place in the top three. So, I didn't mind being in the bottom four.

In other (and rather piss-poor) news my car was towed this morning. I was parked on Gardner, and there was a sign saying "No Parking" further up the block, but I didn't see one near where I was. This morning, though, sure enough there was a sign in the general area where my car was (though not on the light post directly in front of where I was parked). Also, the sign wasn't that high up on the post, meaning any SUV could have blocked it. The tow company needs $177 (!!!) for me to get the car out of hock, and I'm sure there's a ticket on the windshield as well. We'll see if I can successfully argue it.

Anyway, I'm going to walk to the tow company (about a 20 min. walk, not too bad), grab some lunch, and polish my submission for the OutFest Filmwriting Lab submission (due tomorrow).

So it's 3:20 a.m. and I'm awake. Not wide awake, but awake nevertheless.

I played poker tonight, at a guy named Dommy's apartment. He lives only a two blocks away, so I don't have to drive. Which means, I am able to be high as a kite. The crowd was all men, eight of us total. At least two straight guys, at lease three gay guys, and a couple of question marks. All very nice. $40 buy-in, and the play is dealers choice. It's fun and fast-paced. I won, which is always fun, a whopping $28. But I'm not complaining.

I have a zit on my left earlobe. I hate it.

Any trace of a diet is completely lost on me. I need to stop eating whatever I want and start caring for myself. Ugh.

Well, Blog-heads, here is my re-cap of the Golden Globes.

Reece won, and was lovely (though I think Ryan was drunk).

Diana Ossana and Larry McMurtry won for Best Screenplay. They were very cute. She was flustered and gracious, he was in an ill-fitting tux and thanked his typewriter.

Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams looked like kids sitting at the grown-ups table for the first time.

Mary-Louise Parker beat the four Desperate Housewives for Best Actress in a Comedy for Weeds. I was high while watching the show, so I felt like I was a part of the action.

All of the press today is about how the gays are taking over, as Brokeback won four (Pic, Director, Screenplay, and Original Song), Hoffman won for Capote (a 'mo), and Huffman won for Transamerica (a pre-op).

Drew Barrymore looked like complete total unadulterated shit. No joke. Her boobs were out of control, hanging to somewhere near her bellybutton and flopping out a bit. Her dress was oversized, her face had blemishes, and her hair looked like crap. Everybody is speculating that she must be pregnant because why would her boobs look like that?

Rachel Weitz won for Best Supporting Actress. She was lovely. She thanked Darren Aronofsky. I didn't realize they were a couple.

Hilary Swank looked beautiful. Her and Chad Lowe are divorcing. I will miss him crying from somewhere in the front few rows of award shows.

Sandra Oh won for Grey's Anatomy. She was very funny.

Jonathan Rhys-Meyers won for Actor in a Mini-Series. He's the guy who stars in Match Point. He's not totally my type but I'd do him in a London minute.

Lost won best Drama. Walk the Line won best comedy/musical, and Joaquin Phoenix won best Actor. He's so fuckin weird.

Of the 24 categories, I guessed 15 correct, and since Tessie lacked the motor skills to fill out a ballot, I automatically won the pool. And for the record, I was wearing Calvin (Klein underwear) and Eddie (Bauer t-shirt and socks). It was glamour the likes of which Hollywood has never seen.

Greetings Blog-O-Sphere. I've been gone for a couple of months, and how I know you have all suffered. The snarky little la-ties from CNN have had nothing to cover since I've been gone. But fear not!!! I am back.

And just think, in the past two months we missed a searing Death-watch, carried, as is the tradition in all Death-watch cases, on all three cable news networks. I had the fabulous pleasure of actually witnessing Life-watch (though only momentarily) as the miners went from dead (duh) to alive (hooray! says big gay Anderson Cooper! miracles do happen in West Virginia! exclaims the gov'ner!) to dead (again, duh).

And now? We are treated to useless coverage of all sorts of other on-the-job accidents carried mid-day on the Big Three. There was the hapless man who fell into a water tower (empty, unfortunately), the two men who fell into a ditch (no kidding, a fucking ditch, and for that they interrupted the Alito hearings...), and at least a dozen shots of the woman fighting off a man trying to gaff tape her eyes shut at the check cashing place where she worked. (First of all, a check cashing place without bulletproof glass, neigh, any glass, deserves to be broken into, and second of all, what's a white woman doing working the counter at a check cashing place anyway? Does GWB know about this?)

Oh well.

In movie news...

Variety published a list of 26 movies it thinks could garner two or more Oscar nods. Below, my list, in order of best to worst (of the ones I've seen), and alphabetical (of the ones I haven't seen).

I've seen these (so they're in favorite to least favorite order):

Crash
Brokeback Mountain
Walk the Line
Mrs. Henderson Presents
Capote
North Country
Cinderella Man
Rent
Jarhead
The Producers
Good Night, and Good Luck
Memoirs of a Geisha (or, as Alex McHale calls it, "Japanese Women are Cunts")
The Family Stone


The ones I haven't seen (* to those that I really do want to see):

The Constant Gardner *
A History of Violence *
In Her Shoes
King Kong
The Libertine
Match Point *
Munich *
The New World
Pride and Prejudice
Proof
The Squid and the Whale
Syriana *
The Three Burials of Melquaides Estrada


So there you have my movie coverage. Crash is currently winning...

As far as the old vices go... Well, they're going. The Slim Fast debacle is over, and I'm back to a steady diet of Wendy's, Denny's, and cheese glorious cheese. And pot. And lots of it.

I have my little brother coming for a visit tomorrow, which should be fun. I'm going to take him to Jumbo's Clown Room, the only strip club in the world where you can see (if you want to see) a stripper lactate on stage. Yummm... Rey will ahve to sit far away, as he's alergic to milk products.

More soon (or not, knowing my track record)...

I'm in Denver with Puppetry of the Penis. Arrived yesterday afternoon for what was supposed to be the show's load-out. But, sales have been good so they've extended the show for Fridays and Saturdays for the next three weekends. It wasn't a total wasted trip, though, as I subbed for the stage manager for last night's performance.

Other than calling the show last night, I have basically hung out in my hotel room. We're at a Ramada, and the room's not that bad. I've actually succeeded in getting some writing done in the room, which makes me happy.

In other news... My little brother moved away from home today. He's 22 and didn't go to college, so this is sort of tough on my mom, as it's her final kid leaving home. He's living about 2 hours away from home, in a place called Werthersville (a suburb of Reading). (Yes, Reading has suburbs.)

So that's about it for now. Back to L.A. tomorrow...

...I don't like Mondays.

Yawn. Have to be to C. Jay's in approx. 30 min., but thought I'd bang out a quick post on the blog.

My good friend Cuong is in Los Angeles this week, from Boston, for a conference. He took me out to dinner last night, and we went way upscale, dining at Spago. (No, not Sbarro, the food court staple.) I was on the lookout for celebrities, but didn't see any. The crowd seemed more bridge and tunnel out for a fancy dinner than the rich and beautiful grabbing an overpriced bite to eat. The meal was good, but not earth-shattering. I had a risotto appetizer (good, though the rice had a little too much bite), and a rib eye steak that was just a smidge tough. The potatoes were too creamy. Dessert was decent, but the focus was too much on presentation, not enough on flavor. (Speaking of desserts, Alex and I went to Grand Luxe Cafe on Saturday, where we had the beignets for dessert, a truly amazing experience.)

A direct quote from MSNBC: There was an abandoned red knapsack on an outdoor subway platform north of Los Angeles, so the news helicopters were swarming and the news anchor seemed to be praying for an explosion while she was on the air. So here's the quote: "I don't want to speculate on the contents of the backpack, but if it were a homemade bomb, what kind of damage could it cause?" she asked a homemade bomb expert. The thing that I don't get is this: If you don't want to speculate about the contents, THEN DON'T SPECULATE. Pretty simple, you'd think?

Anyway, now I've really got to hit the road. It should be a pretty easy day, though.

Haven't posted in some time, so here goes...

I've started up with a favorite vice of mine, pot. Yummy, mood-altering, munchie-inducing pot. For the first time in quite a long time, I actually did work towards some jokes for stand-up comedy, a clear indication that pot must be good for you.

In all honesty, though, I have felt that since going back on the green that my creative juices have been flowing more freely.

Okay, now some random observations about what's beeng going on in my world, and the world at large.

First, and certainly not most importantly... Do you think Tina Fey sat at home all pregnant about herself and thought, "God, Saturday Night Live really does suck." Maybe her being out of the studio will give her some perspective and allow her to come back from maternity leave and deliver a quality 90 minutes of entertainment. My most important suggestion: Beginning, middle and end. If your skit doesn't have it, don't do it. It would be so wonderful if they could end a skit properly, but alas...

Other television observations:

Commander in Chief. While I thought the first episode (for the most part) sucked, I am willing to give it the benefit of the doubt. What I thought lacked from the first outing was "sweep." I wanted grand, I wanted regal. I wanted the swearing in, even at the residence, to be bold and moving, I wanted her first moment in the Oval Office as POTUS to not include a bitch-off with the former president's secretary, and I thought they could have shelved the humorous "First Man" tour and the odd snipes at Hillary to come in a later episode. And finally, I don't care what you think of your mother's politics, if your mom is going to address a joint session of the Congress, you get your cranky-ass twat off the sofa and you put a ballgown on and you fuckin smile.

Desperate Housewives: I watched my first full episode of the show last night, and it wasn't bad. I don't think I'm hooked, but a friends advice to "keep in mind it's supposed to be a comedy" throughout the episode helped. It does seem awfully cartoon-y, but I suppose that's what they're going for.

News-watching has been boring. I wonder if the newsmedia would prefer if things like earthquakes had names, just like hurricanes. That might make for better storytelling and provide better pre-segment graphics. Then, maybe they could name earthquakes and tsunamis after well-known terrorists, thereby providing a cross-pollination with the War on Terror.

Personally, things have been good. I took Puppetry of the Penis to Denver last week and got that show up and running. They're there for a four week run. I'll go back for the final weekend to load the show out.

Work with C. Jay is good, as always. And Menopause the Musical continues to plod along. There were rumors circulating that they'd be posting a 6-week closing notice, but it hasn't actually happened yet. Regardless, I suspect that even with a 6-week notice, the show will continue into the New Year.

My writing has slowed to a crawl. I had some great ideas regarding the "After Life" project, but have failed to get them fleshed out in a script. Courtney gave me the advice to "just start writing," which I think I will try tonight... Just start slamming on the keyboard and see where I go.

Other shit to worry about:

I've got to lose weight. Not sure when it will start, but it's gotta be soon.
I'm paying for a gym membership... Gotta use it.
I have money in my account for the first time in years... Need to not blow it, but instead retire some debt.
I've got to finish a spec script.
I've got to take Tessie up Runyon more often.

Other than that, nothing else is going on right now...

Here comes Hurricane Rita, blowing towards the Gulf Coast.

The newsmedia, to date, has been salivating over this storm. Almost relishing it's coming. And now that it's been downgraded, there's almost a disappointment. Ugh.

Wolf Blitzer just got caught in a bit of a pickle with Jack Cafferty on CNN. Wolf was complaining that many of the TSA workers at Houston Int'l Airport had not reported to work. But, Jack pointed out, if you're a TSA worker and you need to evacuate your family, what would you do? Stay and help the entitled airline passengers clear the (pointless, really) security checks, or go help your family flee the hurricane. Well, rather than saying the he stands corrected, Wolf instead said "Well, shouldn't the government then get other TSA workers down there?" Thank you, Wolf. Another expectation put upon the goernment that can barely sustain its current operations...

The story about the elderly on the bus is just horrifying. What a retched way to die.

I don't think I'm going to make it to the gym today. But, I will succeed in going to Sport Chalet to buy a yoga mat. And I think I will definitely make it to the DMV to get my car re-registered.

I booked travel to Denver for me and Aaron Staubach for Puppetry. Should be fun having Aaron along.

Okay, so things are just sort of plodding along. Nothing too exciting, nothing too dramatic. Which means, I should have plenty of time to write. But, for the most part, it's not happening as I'd like it to.

I haven't smoked pot for about five weeks now, maybe longer. I don't necessarily miss it, except in that if I were smoking, I could at least use it to justify my eating habits. (Well, not justify, persay, but at least I could lay blame, correctly or not.) (Not, as the case is quickly becoming evident.)

I'm going to Denver in a week or so, to open up a production of Puppetry. That's good, because I get paid. It's also looking like Puppetry will do three weeks in Milwaukee in December, also making me a very happy camper.

Denver should be fun. Denver, of course, is home of the "Great Denver Ecstacy Debacle." Flag that if you want a good and nasty story about the Life of Daniel.

Tessie is wonderful as ever. She's crazy mad for a Jack Russell terrier that lives upstairs, and even went to the extraordinary lengths of putting her head through a glass window in the hopes of getting closer to the dog. (Yes, my dog would be on Jerry Springer if they had an episode on Love Crazed Mutts and the Pure-bred Terriers They Crave.)

Here is a picture of the old girl. This was taken from atop Runyon Canyon.

Okay, so that's what's going on with me. More soon!

P.S. I'm going to go to the gym tomorrow. I'm going to go to the gym tomorrow. I'm going to go to the gym tomorrow. I'm going to go to the gym tomorrow. I'm going to go to the gym tomorrow. I'm going to go to the gym tomorrow. I'm going to go to the gym tomorrow.

It's Tuesday, and I have the day off. I fear that my beach-going days with Tessie have come to a close... It's way too chilly for sitting on the beach, and (taking President Bush's advice), I don't want to buy gas that I don't need (except for the small vase of gas that I like to keep on my desk, as it's so pretty). The drive to and from Huntington Beach uses a half-tank of gas, which is running about $25. Not that I'm super-poor, but $25 to sit on a chilly beach when Tessie can get as much running exercise up at Runyon seems wasteful.

The Roberts hearings have been interesting. He's not answered a single question (that I've seen) directly, and yet I still like him. I'm not sure why, but I think he could be a fair justice. Don't ask for proof, but nothing melts my cold heart like a pair of baby blues and a baseball analogy or two.

I'm going to go to the movies. First, I'll see "The Exorcism of Emily Rose," which got good marks, and will probably then do a double-feature and see "The Constant Gardner," which got outstanding reviews.

Tonight, no plans. Myabe I'll write?? Who knows.

Still not smoking pot, but still eating like a fiend. Ugh. My mother sent me info on Weight Watchers. Not sure that I'm on-board for it, and keep thinking I'll do the Slimfast Shake thing for a week or so, at least to get me to break the current trent of over-eating.

Nothing else going on. I'm watching Alo tomorrow from after school utnil the following morning. Maybe I'll take him to the movies. Not sure what he's allowed to see, but will check out Fandango.com to see...

Okay, off to the movies.

I've not blogged in ages... Over a month. Well, here we go. I'll give it a go and try and get some updates out into Cyberspace (so hopefully some day the snarky girls from CNN can cover my blog... Ah, a blogger can dream, right?)

Vice update: I've stopped smoking pot. I wouldn't call it a permanent change, but for the moment I at least feel like my brain is a bit clearer. While the desired outcome, to eat less and write more, hasn't necessarily come to fruition, I am at least hopeful that one of these days something will click (and hopefully it'll click before I go out and buy another bag of dope).

I have been doing some writing, but not nearly as much as I'd like. I took a respectable stab at getting my script "After Life" into the second act. While I'm not thrilled with how the second act is going, I am at least happy to be there. Other than that, I've thrown together a short film script, titleless at this moment, about a guy who posts an ad on Craigslist reading, "31 y.o. GWM, son of God, seeks 12 friends." I enjoyed writing scenes where the son of God interviews potential apostles. "Any history of betrayal in your past?"

On a more global note, the hurricane in the Gulf coast has been absolutely devastating to witness. As with 9/11, it is images of dogs that gets me welled up. Other than that, I remain analytical, comparing Fox to CNN to MSNBC, all the while checking drudgereport.com, huffingtonpost.com, and buzzflash.com, while also monitoring cnn.com and msnbc.com.

It has, on several occasions, gotten too overwhelming. Wednesday and Thursday of this week, I didn't allow myself to tune the TV to any news programs, rather getting updates from the web. It was a welcome exile from the televised horrors that have become commonplace.

Today, I did tune in. The first thing I saw was a mother lambasting the government all the while waiting for her son to be released from a line he was standing in after having traveled countless hours on his trip home from Iraq. The journo talking to her, I think, wasn't expecting her attack on the government. At one point, he said to her, "Look over there, at your son. Aren't you happy to have him home?" And she turned back to the interviewer and said, "I think he'd be safer over in Iraq at this moment." Chilling, I thought.

The disaster has promped my own hand-wringing about the potential for an earthquake here in L.A. I have my "survival kit," but think it would be woefully lacking if there were anything near the scale of Hurricane Katrina. There's a locksmith near the supermarket that sells stun guns out of a van. I actually thought about buying one. Not that I have much to defend, but it did cross my mind, and I guess I needed to get that out there...

Now, I'm home. I was going to take Tessie to the beach today, but it remained slightly chilly and overcast for the day, so we instead did a hike up Runyon Canyon. Spoke with my girlfriend Nadette from NYC on the walk. She's one of those friends, that, despite living far away and speaking infrequently, remains close to my heart. She has a new puppy pug, Olive, and can be seen at nadettestasa.blogspot.com.

Tonight, I have no plans. I was thinking about calling my friend Gib and seeing if he wanted to prowl the gay bars, but I doubt I'll work up the energy or courage to do that. In the meantime, I will sit on the sofa, watch (for the ba-zillionth time) "Love Actually," flip back and forth to the Red Sox/Yankees game, and think about writing. Will I actually write?? Stay tuned.

Instead of being a good productive writer and staying home and getting some work done, I instead went to Commerce Casino (maybe the win on Saturday night proved less-than-satisfactory in keeping the gambling vice at bay).

It's about a 20 minute drive, and I determined to play poker (something I have never done at a casino before, only on-line and in home games). It's mildly imtimidating, and the vast majority of people working at this particular casino don't speak English as a first language. It was slightly difficult figuring out where to go, and am pretty certain now that I didn't get to the right place exactly. I had wanted to play $2/$4 limit hold'em, but only found the $3/$6 tables. With $100 to burn through, I just resolved to play at the $3/$6 table, and see what might happen.

Also, I was high as a kite at the time, so communicating probably wasn't my strongest suit either, in defense of the casino staff.

I played at a table with eight other people, and it was sort of exhilirating and boring at the same time. The game moved much slower than Allen's home game and on-line gambling, but felt more palpable because of the stakes.

I bought in for $100, and left with just under that ($89 to be specific). I was pretty pleased with how I did considering I had never been before.

Now (of course) like any good drug, I want to go back. I spoke with the poker desk at the casino today and they told me specifically where to find the $2/$4 tables, so I can play longer and risk less money... Stay tuned for word on if I go there tonight.

Now, I've got to get back to work on projects for C. Jay.

Cable TV news is most interesting when the person conducting the interview does not know the answer to the question they're asking. They can certainly know about the different answers, they can certainly have an idea of what the answer might be, but to ask a question simply because they assume their audience does not know the answer irrates me.

The Air France flight in Toronto has been declared "a miracle" by MSNBC.

mir·a·cle
( P ) Pronunciation Key (mr-kl)
n.
An event that appears inexplicable by the laws of nature and so is held to be supernatural in origin or an act of God

In case you wondered what exactly a miracle is...

I went to the movies, to see "Wedding Crashers." I thought it sucked so badly that I left. I tried and tried and tried to endure the movie, but couldn't get into it. Most prevelently, Owen Wilson's hair and skin and squinty eyes were just freaking me out. That, and I can't stand Vince Vaughan. The overacting was obviously a choice, but one that grated my nerves. The one line that got a laugh out of me ("I am your starboard and your port") didn't get a laugh from anyone else in the movie (approx. 20 people). And I really wanted to like it.

Back home now, and watching coverage of the plane crash in Toronto. Countdown with Keith Olberman is sort of stupid. They have created a show that is supposed to go from the fifth most important story to the most important, but because that's such a stupid idea they have no choice to make the top story "Our fifth biggest story of the day."

Oh, and another thing that's pissed me off recently about the news. CNN, after John Bolton was appointed to the ambassadorship of the UN, ran a feature that used the phrase, "Just who is the man behind the mustache?"

Now I'm home, eating swiss cheese and salami on french bread, and thinking about taking a nap before doing some writing tonight.

And I'm high. At 5:00 p.m. But I did do some grocery shopping and made a deposit at the bank.

President Bush said that "intelligent design" should be taught in schools alongside evolution. Wht the f**k is "intelligent design?" I'm assuming that's a buzzword for creationism, but I sort of hate it. I guess I hate the re-mincing of words to make them more palatable to, I'm assuming, stupid people.

On NPR a couple of weeks ago, a middle school-based police officer (yes, they need actual gun-toting police officers in the middle schools in L.A.) said that he tried to talk with the children during nutrition. "Nutrition." Did you know that lunch is no longer served in L.A. public schools? They serve nutrition. Like, "Do you want to meet for nutrition?" "We had a power nutrition with the agent from WMA." "I skipped nutrition and grabbed a candy bar mid-afternoon."

I took Tessie for a walk this morning, and there was a beautiful golden retriever running across streets and through intersections. I was able to grab the dog when he was sniffing Tessie's ass and get Tessie's leash on him. We walked up and down the streets until we found the pup's owner. It felt great to get the dog back to his owner.

Not sure about the rest of the day... I'm on the fence about the beach, but am thinking I'm not going to do the trip down to Huntington. I might try and see Wedding Crashers again; hopefully the theater won't have another fire.

An American Bystander. I'm not 100% sure what the name means, but in my head it seems like a comfortable moniker to describe the way I feel when I watch cable TV news.

Missing people, missing people, missing people.

I want to see if I can get the logic that was just presented on the O'Reilly Factor straight.

There has been considerable criticism of the newsmedia and its liberal coverage of the Natalee Holloway case. At the same time, they media has been criticized for not covering the disappearance of the black girl from Philly and the hottie groom. The reason the press isn't covering the black girl and the hottie is... their families aren't putting themselves in front of the camera the way the Holloway family is. Now please don't get me wrong, I don't blame the Holloway family for what they're doing; God knows if my child went missing I would do everything in my power to bring them back. But who decides what's news? Greta Van What's-her-name was O'Reilly's guest (don't get me started on the press interviewing the press), and that was her logic, we cover the missing person because the family puts themselves out there. How is that news?

I'm not exactly sure if that made sense... I'll re-read it tomorrow and make edits. Or not.

Especially the b/w photos of the ferris wheel.

The Thing of the Moment

My stepfather Keith is in Los Angeles for a couple of days for work, and met me in Hollywood for dinner. We went to Yamashiro up in the Hollywood Hills, a CalAsian restaurant with a killer view.

Prior to dinner, I was able to get in a walk up Runyon with Tessie, and have perfected the 8-minute "strip shower and dress."

Dinner was interesting. We talked for a while about what I'm up to in Los Angeles, and why I moved out here. From there, we talked at length about my older brother Michael and his and his wife's horrible treatment of my mother. It was eye-opening to see him so incensed by their actions, and made me feel that my mother is well-protected by him. They might have one of the quirkier relationships I've encountered, but best as I can tell it's going to go the distance.

We also talked about my younger brother and what's in store for him. It's looking like he'll land a job at JVC, working in sales. I think it'll be good for him to get into the business, make some solid money, marry that girl of his, etc.

I keep expecting Stephen to call me from Las Vegas, saying that I've got six hours to be at his wedding... Ah, an older brother with a Vegas addiction can dream, right?

Caught up with my friend Mary from Seattle today, which was great, and shared a couple of laughs with Courtney. (She saw "Must Love Dogs," said it sucked, and I shared with her the fact that Hillary Duff has a greatest hits album. Can anything be more disburbing??)

Going to bed. I'm not sure what I'll do tomorrow, but will hopefully make a drive t the beach wtih Tessie. I've got to spend some time cleaning up my desk and doing deposits, etc. Yeah, that'll happen...

A completely uneventful day, though I did have a long and fun conversation with my friend Nadette Stasa. She read through a list of goals she'd like to accomplish by November 17 (an arbitrary date), and the thought of her list is sort of kicking my ass.

There is so much I need to accomplish, from the ridiculously mundane to the rather important.

A sample:

Control the vices
Clean my apartment
Clip Tessie's nails
Get my gas turned back on
Balance my checkbook
Complete a spec script (any spec script!)
Organize show and project ideas neatly
Buy a new desk for the apartment
Lose weight (ugh)
Find a boyfriend
Get a haircut
Deposit my paychecks
Organize my to-do list
Do my laundry
File file file
Sign with an agency


And lots of other things I'd like to accomplish:

Skydive
Throw a housewarming party (maybe a Christmas party??)
Shoot a short film
Produce Streetcar
Befriend a celebrity (silly, I know...)
Run a marathon (far-fetched, but ya never know)


But it all starts with my logging off of here, cleaning up C. Jay's office, and heading home to take Tessie for a walk. Hopefully we can pull down a Runyon Canyon walk before dinner with Keith (whose flight is supposedly 2 hours late).

That's not a great title, but oh well. As I try and see if this blog thing is going to work, I'm nervous that the pressure of a new title every time I post is going to overwhelm me. So forgive me if the titles are either a. bland or b. pointless. They might even be c. factual (Monday at 11:00 a.m., for example).

Two shows today, uneventful. Lunch at Sbarro (baked ziti), and then a hike up Runyon Canyon with Tessie. She growled at a couple of different dogs today, sort of out of character.

It was awfully hot on the walk up, but once we started the decent, the path was completely shaded, which was very nice.

Nothing else exciting going on... Pizza Hut for dinner, did some work on a spec script (the Dean of Students project), and have been watching T.V. Lots of Law and Order, with a shot of the new Entourage (good episode, better than last weeks).

Working with C. Jay tomorrow, then dinner with my step-father at Yamashiro (fancy Japanese restaurant in the Hollywood Hills).

And now, bed...

Just waking up, and have to be at the theater in about an hour to usher another fun-filled day of Menopause.

Played poker last night up in Burbank. I bought in for $20, and basically kept losing blinds, on occasion winning a small pot here and there. But then around midnight, I started to hit some decent hands. It culminated when I was sitting on about $60 and went head-to-head with my friend Allen (and the host of the game). He was sitting on more than me, and pulled me all-in. Since I was already committed to losing my starting $20, I decided to call and see if I couldn't make some real money. Sure enough, my two pairs (Kings and Queens) bested his two pairs (Queens and Jacks), and I hit a big freeeeking jackpot. I cashed out around 1:30 a.m. with $110. A $90 profit made me very happy.

Absolutely nothing else exciting is going on. I will head to Menopause momentarily, grab lunch at the Beverly Center between shows (ahh, food court food), do the second show, come home and take Tessie up Runyon Canyon, then do some writing this evening. Another glamorous evening in Hollywood...

Oh, vices. Sure enough, the game last night will satisfy my gambling urges for some time (a win can do that), I was high for the first half of the game (maybe I was getting good cards but was too smoky to notice), and ate a steady diet of Kit Kat Popables and Milano cookies. Yum (and ugh).

Ushered the 5:00 p.m. performance of Menopause. Nothing too exciting, though I did have a foot in the mouth moment...

I stand at the door into the theater, and ask each patron for her (or, in very rare instances, his) ticket, then tell them which row and seat to sit in. To make sure everybody goes to the right place (the audience veers elderly), you sort of have to speak loud, and deliberate. I say things like "YOU'RE IN ROW B, LIKE BOY. CENTER ORCHESTRA, THIRD SEAT FROM THE AISLE." They usually nod like the understand, then stumble towards their seats.

When it gets rushed, you try and get through the people as quickly as possible. "YOU'RE IN ROW D, LIKE DAVID...," "YOU'RE IN ROW H, LIKE HARRY..."

"YOU'RE IN ROW J... ROW J, LIKE... JEW." It was the only "J" word I could come up with, and I look up, and the woman standing before me looked like Linda Richmond of SNL fame... She just looked at me oddly, took the ticket, and walked towards Row J. Oiy.

Fox News just did a preview for their show "The Big Story." The big story today at Fox News is, MISSING PEOPLE. I struggle with whether or not missing people is actual news, but they seem to think so. Natalee in Aruba, the African American pregnant woman in Philly, and the hot guy from the cruise.

I have to head back to the theater in a few minutes, then head to Burbank for a Saturday night edition of my Monday night poker game (where I will most likely combine Vices 1, 2 and 3). Ugh.

On the one hand, I can't really imagine who would want to read an online journal written by me. But I can just as quickly close my eyes and fantasize about making a living as a writer, a profession, not surprisingly, that hinges on people wanting to read what I write. So, here goes. If anybody ends up tuning in, great... I hope you enjoy the view. If nobody reads this, well then, maybe it doesn't even exist. Ohh, deep.

My name is Daniel Kells, I am 31 years old, and I live in Los Angeles. I live in a studio apartment (a decent size, thankfully), in Hollywood, with my dog Tessie.

My computer is a Dell Inspiron laptop, purchased used from a guy on Craigslist.

My car is a 1989 Volvo 740 GL. Her name is Gina Louise. She's off-black, and has a smashed-in back-seat passenger side door. That's partially why it was so cheap. Once again, thanks Craigslist.

I have several jobs.

I am personal assistant a screenwriter, named C. Jay Cox. He wrote "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Latter Days." I've seen "Latter Days," and was impressed. I haven't seen "Sweet Home Alabama," and hope that fact doesn't offend C. Jay. One of these days I will bring the DVD home and watch it.

I also work for "Puppetry of the Penis," the stage show. I general manage its U.S. tour dates, dealing with all production logistics. The show will do four weeks in Denver in the fall.

I also work at the Coronet Theatre, home of the long-running "Menopause, The Musical." The show is all-schmaltz, but lordy does it sell well. I substitute for the follow-spot operator, and also usher.

My move to L.A. was pretty easy, aided immensely because of several friends already living here. Reynaldo Pena, one of my oldest friends (we met at a summer camp in Washington, D.C. between my sophomore and junior years of high school), is pursuing an acting career out here. Gib Wallis, who I met at a youth group towards the end of my senior year of high school, is pursuing a writing career out here. Jan Davidson, a hilarious comedienne from Boston, lives here with her husband, two children, two dogs and two cats. We were acquaintances in Boston, but have become friends since my moving out here. Victoria Campbell, an acquaintance from my brief time in Provincetown, lives out here as well, and is pursuing a career in acting. And finally Alex McHale, the comedian who opened for Puppetry of the Penis during its November L.A. run, has become a great friend.

Even with such a great circle of friends, I still tend to be pretty reclusive. I like staying at home, engulfed by my sofa, dog flopped across my feet, watching T.V., always with my laptop propped on my knees.

I have four vices. I will elaborate more on all of them in time, but it's important to throw their existence onto this page now.


1. Food. I'm overweight, and struggle every day with the mental and physical constraints of being approximately 50 lbs. heavier than I should be.

2. Drugs. Okay, just one drug. Pot. I smoke too much of it.

3. Gambling. I love poker. And blackjack. And roulette. And slot machines. And those other stupid table games that exist to dupe fools like me out of my money.

4. Sex. I'll keep sextalk to a bare minimum on here, but it nevertheless is a vice.


That's a snapshot. It's almost 3:30 p.m. on Saturday, and I have to be at the Coronet at 4:00 p.m. for the matinee of Menopause. I'll come home between shows for an hour or so, and will try and write more then.