Sunday, July 31, 2005
It's late, and my eyes are dry
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...
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...
Sluggish morning
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).
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).
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Between shows
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.
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.
So this is me...
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.
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.
