I think I'm going to take a break on my story for a bit.
I'm sitting at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf in Studio City, escaping the oven which is my apartment. I keep checking my emails to see if a reply pops into my inbox with some information as to what the schedule for this week will be. It's been a long time since I've been on a shoot and a long time since I've talked with Kurt, so I'm kind of out of the loop at the moment.
I'm getting restless. I don't know when I'll actually have a steady flow of work or income. If the steady flow doesn't come from one source, I'll have to put myself out there with different people I guess.
Well, there are lots of other things going on right now that I would rather not have to deal with. I swear, my hair is going to start getting gray or I'm gonna die young simply because of the stress I've put myself through. Not just recent stress, but stress beginning the day I chose Biology as a major. Don't have much else to say...guess that's all for the moment.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Chapter 2
Sept. 9th 9:30am Metro Transit en route to work ugh! Sherman Oaks-Echo Park:
Phone call at bus stop in downtown Burbank.
"Hey B, it's Kurt....just want to let you know, I'm leaving for France today and will be staying there until the Brad shoot...won't be able to bring you due to 'budget cuts'...". Apparently Wes A is directing the commercial for the Japanese phone co. and wants to take the stills too in order to do what he wants to do. Okay, bummer, now what? A little relief, I mean, I do have to get my DL, and I have to go to Court in OC to take care of the citations I mentioned before. Alright, cool, I'll just go to France some other time. Well, I’m here in Burbank already, I mean, it took me about an hour to get here; I might as well head over to Silver Lake and see if the Pool’s open on Locksley. I’m in luck and at 11 I have myself a little Pool party. I’m sick of running around town and I seriously need a break with a pal. A chat here, a chat there, lots of work, some cleanup and we’re out and off to a thrift store. For a moment life slowed down and I was able to relax, no runaround, no stress…thanks to the Pool party. After a dog at the Red Lion, and a few calls to some pals in NY I decided to venture out once again on the metro and see how long it’d take me to get home. It was dark by the time I made it up the entryway stairs. I hadn’t talked with C about the car problem yet, only briefly when she was falling asleep. So I call her.
Me: "...So, look, I had some car issues to deal with the other day, that’s why I didn’t call. Sorry I didn't call sooner, but it’s been kind of crazy lately. I understand if you've got a problem with it, it's just something I've got to deal with right now."
C: “…well, the important thing is you’re okay.”
Sept. 11th OC Court, Irvine CA 8:30am:
Sister drove me to Irvine, ain't she sweet? Here she is again.
We’re both sitting in the courtroom being briefed by a bailiff, who thinks he’s Steve Martin, on how to communicate with the Judge. I’m thumbing through papers, documents, proof of Insurance forms etc. wondering what I’m supposed to plea. Do I plead guilty or no contest…it’s the same thing isn’t it? Names are called, and I’m just another loser in the crowd, in the system. I haven’t been to court since 16 years old when I was fined for doing doughnuts in a church parking lot on New Year’s Eve. It turned out to be pretty painless actually. All fines exceeding $2K reduced to $300. Whew. Alright, now we’re off to the Culver City DMV to pass my written test and get my CA DL. Two hours pass as I study the manual once again when…*”now servicing A904 at counter 10”* is called. I walk with confidence to the counter and place my application, passport and charm at the mercy of the DMV clerk, praying all things are in order.
Clerk: “Looks good, good luck”
33 out of a possible 36 makes passing with a 92%. Sweet, so now all I have to do is cruise to the Auto Detectives in Van Nuys and slam down my CA DL on the counter and peace out to get my car. I called ahead, just to make sure we’d make it before they closed.
Detective: “if you don’t make it, it’s okay, the guys at the front desk can give you a release if we’re closed.”
Me: “are you sure, if I come right now, I can still get it released?”
Detective: “yes”
Me: “are you SURE?”
Detective: “yes”
So, me and sis head out to the valley during rush hour. Wilco’s Passenger Side echoes in my ear like an anthem as we traverse the Sepulveda Pass toward the Van Nuys Police Station…"I got a court date coming this June, I'll be driving soon..." I slam my CA DL on the front desk when I hear this.
Officer: "Sorry pal, Detectives went home, and we don't have you papers, come back tomorrow." Me: "but someone told me you would have my papers if they’ve closed"
Officer: "Sorry pal, come back tomorrow...next."
Phone call at bus stop in downtown Burbank.
"Hey B, it's Kurt....just want to let you know, I'm leaving for France today and will be staying there until the Brad shoot...won't be able to bring you due to 'budget cuts'...". Apparently Wes A is directing the commercial for the Japanese phone co. and wants to take the stills too in order to do what he wants to do. Okay, bummer, now what? A little relief, I mean, I do have to get my DL, and I have to go to Court in OC to take care of the citations I mentioned before. Alright, cool, I'll just go to France some other time. Well, I’m here in Burbank already, I mean, it took me about an hour to get here; I might as well head over to Silver Lake and see if the Pool’s open on Locksley. I’m in luck and at 11 I have myself a little Pool party. I’m sick of running around town and I seriously need a break with a pal. A chat here, a chat there, lots of work, some cleanup and we’re out and off to a thrift store. For a moment life slowed down and I was able to relax, no runaround, no stress…thanks to the Pool party. After a dog at the Red Lion, and a few calls to some pals in NY I decided to venture out once again on the metro and see how long it’d take me to get home. It was dark by the time I made it up the entryway stairs. I hadn’t talked with C about the car problem yet, only briefly when she was falling asleep. So I call her.
Me: "...So, look, I had some car issues to deal with the other day, that’s why I didn’t call. Sorry I didn't call sooner, but it’s been kind of crazy lately. I understand if you've got a problem with it, it's just something I've got to deal with right now."
C: “…well, the important thing is you’re okay.”
Sept. 11th OC Court, Irvine CA 8:30am:
Sister drove me to Irvine, ain't she sweet? Here she is again.
We’re both sitting in the courtroom being briefed by a bailiff, who thinks he’s Steve Martin, on how to communicate with the Judge. I’m thumbing through papers, documents, proof of Insurance forms etc. wondering what I’m supposed to plea. Do I plead guilty or no contest…it’s the same thing isn’t it? Names are called, and I’m just another loser in the crowd, in the system. I haven’t been to court since 16 years old when I was fined for doing doughnuts in a church parking lot on New Year’s Eve. It turned out to be pretty painless actually. All fines exceeding $2K reduced to $300. Whew. Alright, now we’re off to the Culver City DMV to pass my written test and get my CA DL. Two hours pass as I study the manual once again when…*”now servicing A904 at counter 10”* is called. I walk with confidence to the counter and place my application, passport and charm at the mercy of the DMV clerk, praying all things are in order.
Clerk: “Looks good, good luck”
33 out of a possible 36 makes passing with a 92%. Sweet, so now all I have to do is cruise to the Auto Detectives in Van Nuys and slam down my CA DL on the counter and peace out to get my car. I called ahead, just to make sure we’d make it before they closed.
Detective: “if you don’t make it, it’s okay, the guys at the front desk can give you a release if we’re closed.”
Me: “are you sure, if I come right now, I can still get it released?”
Detective: “yes”
Me: “are you SURE?”
Detective: “yes”
So, me and sis head out to the valley during rush hour. Wilco’s Passenger Side echoes in my ear like an anthem as we traverse the Sepulveda Pass toward the Van Nuys Police Station…"I got a court date coming this June, I'll be driving soon..." I slam my CA DL on the front desk when I hear this.
Officer: "Sorry pal, Detectives went home, and we don't have you papers, come back tomorrow." Me: "but someone told me you would have my papers if they’ve closed"
Officer: "Sorry pal, come back tomorrow...next."
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Chapter 1
So I've had a few eventful weeks in a row this month. Amazingly enough, I've come out alive with minor scratches. This began as a single post, but I quickly realized it was turning into a novel...so, if you care to read, cool. It's mostly for my own sanity right now. It'll be in chapters now.
At first glance, September seemed to be a promising month...I mean, I had plans to visit Brad in France, hang out with Shannen, watch NFL on Sundays and see a 1 date friendship potentially turn into "dating". So, with a glimmer of optimism in the mind, we enter August. I had spent the later days of August in Chicago to be apart of this guys wedding and spend time with good friends. I returned to CA just in time for a series of photo shoots which I would describe as both "fashionable" and "celebritory". I was asked to consider a position as full time Studio Manager, which I've been considering and ultimately want. I met someone I liked...dated...had fun, went to Thai food, Bowled, Movie-d etc. y'know, the dating thing without being in a relationship? That was August.
What happens next is simply a look...no more...no less...I'm in the process of selling the story to a few screenwriters so some details are omitted. My sister says I could write a book about the first two weeks alone. And so we begin...
Sunday Sept 7th. First week of NFL:
I'm pumped cause I get to watch the Vikings lose (not a surprise). I'm enjoying my time at B.J.'s in Burbank sipping on a Stout and chewing on a Great White mini pizza while watching 5 games at one time. It's pretty amazing actually. 10AM-4:40PM pure NFL amazement. The afternoon games finish and I'm making my way home when car trouble comes my way and kept coming and eventually she clipped me two blocks from my apartment. Fast forward: Two hours later I'm car-less, key-less and...well...briefly homeless.
*The character which follows is loosely based on my before mentioned sister's dog Musky (who was lost and running scared on Venice Blvd. for a good 2-4 hours)*
Sept 8th:
and I'm running back and fourth from Sherman Oaks to Van Nuys, almost exclusively on foot (public trans is horrible). Off to "jailbreak" my car in Van Nuys.
Impound Clerk: "It looks like there's a 30 day hold, you're gonna have to get a signed release from the Police."
Me: "Um...why is there a 30 day hold?"
Impound Clerk: "Not sure pal, could be your out of state DL, just head over there and they'll tell ya what to do..."
Me: "Well, can I at least get my apartment keys?"
Clerk: "Sorry pal...not without a release...next."
So, I head over to the Van Nuys police department to discuss the situation with the Police, who actually turn out to be "Auto Detectives"? After a brief discussion with the Detectives, I was told my car was on a 30 hold because I had been driving with an out of state DL. Apparently California requires a residence of the state to have a valid CA drivers license in order to operate a motorized vehicle, who knew. I guess it makes sense but I'm starting to become a champion of Federal drivers licenses, or bar codes on the wrist, that makes more sense. So I head off to the DMV, on foot, about 4 miles. To my total lack of surprise, the DMV was packed already at 7AM. I speak with a clerk and tell them I need to apply for a CA DL.
Clerk: "...a passport or birth certificate..."
Me: "...but a valid out of state DL won't work?"
Clerk: "...sorry pal, just bring a passport of birth certificate and that should do...next."
So, I walk out of the Van Nuys DMV, look around with dismay as I try to piece together where I am, how I got here and where my apartment is. I find myself boarding a metro transit bus, paying the $1.25 fare and asking the driver where the heck he's...well, I'm headed. Without keys to my apartment, I stumble up the entryway stairs to the door. Apartment's locked! phone's dead, keys gone, nobody can hear me knocking and it's almost 10am, who would be home anyway? I'm stuck. Where to go? Of course, where does everyone go when all else seems lost and need communication? The mall. Apple Store, email Kurt
Me: "dude, have to deal with some DMV stuff today, hope that's cool. My phone's dead, otherwise I'd call...I'll be checking my email".
Kiosk, phone charger...excellent! Call roommate who was home the entire time I was running around...figures. I get myself back to the apartment and shower, shave, change clothes and tell a couple stories to my roommate E. With a glint in my eye and a skip in my step, I grab my passport and cruise back to the DMV via public transportation. An hour later, I'm strolling into the DMV in Van Nuys ready to slam my passport on the counter, fill out a CA DL application and finally curb stomp the teeth outta the written test. I'm a little nervous at this point, I mean, I've always had my MN DL. It's helped me get out of "sticky situations" many times in the past and I was sad to see it go. I grab an application, get a number (B073), and wait for it to be called. I wait for my number to be called...*"now servicing A074 at counter number 3"*. wait for my number to be called...*"now servicing F809 at counter number 14"*. And wait for my number to be called. An hour passes and I am now a genius in the studies of California traffic laws, I all but sprint to *"now servicing B073 at counter 20*" to hand over my application, passport and knowledge of the California roadways to the DMV clerk (and ultimately, the Governator of CA).
Clerk: "...just read this and sign both copies please."
Me: "...wait, what is this? Are these citations?"
Clerk: "...yup, and you can see there are a couple of them, one in 2005 and the other in June...see, right there."
Me: "...what!? 2005?! So this is going to keep me from taking the written test then?"
Clerk: "...that's right, sorry pal, just sign this and call the number at the top and they'll tell you what you need to do, okay?...*"now servicing B074 at counter number 20*".
After fighting my way through cross town traffic on metro bus 183 (I began to call them by name), I was once again at my apartment. The number I called happened to be for the OC courthouse in Irvine. The before mentioned tickets were understandable; I mean, once I looked at the dates that is. *flashback 2005* "I mean, it's not often an ex-girlfriend leaves her Silver Mustang available while she leaves you for an ex in Australia now is it? naw...go 95mph on the 5 passed the exit she used to live off, go ahead, it's a good idea."* That ticket was $650. The $1520 citation wasn't as dramatic, it was basically a routine stop for my right headlight being out. Apparently this time my MN DL didn't help. In fact, that was the reason it was so expensive. That and not having proof of insurance or registration in the car at the time. Believe me, in the 10 years I've lived in CA, I've been pulled over before and never got cited for those three things before. Which encouraged the laziness I suppose.
I received a late night phone call from C, the girl I had been taking to movies and dinner. She was worried something had happened, cause I didn't call her Sunday night like I had said I would.
C: "...I was just worried something happened and I couldn't sleep, I'm glad you're okay. I'll talk with you tomorrow okay? I'm sooo sleepy."
Me: "...yeah...I'm fine, thanks for the call, g'night."
At first glance, September seemed to be a promising month...I mean, I had plans to visit Brad in France, hang out with Shannen, watch NFL on Sundays and see a 1 date friendship potentially turn into "dating". So, with a glimmer of optimism in the mind, we enter August. I had spent the later days of August in Chicago to be apart of this guys wedding and spend time with good friends. I returned to CA just in time for a series of photo shoots which I would describe as both "fashionable" and "celebritory". I was asked to consider a position as full time Studio Manager, which I've been considering and ultimately want. I met someone I liked...dated...had fun, went to Thai food, Bowled, Movie-d etc. y'know, the dating thing without being in a relationship? That was August.
What happens next is simply a look...no more...no less...I'm in the process of selling the story to a few screenwriters so some details are omitted. My sister says I could write a book about the first two weeks alone. And so we begin...
Sunday Sept 7th. First week of NFL:
I'm pumped cause I get to watch the Vikings lose (not a surprise). I'm enjoying my time at B.J.'s in Burbank sipping on a Stout and chewing on a Great White mini pizza while watching 5 games at one time. It's pretty amazing actually. 10AM-4:40PM pure NFL amazement. The afternoon games finish and I'm making my way home when car trouble comes my way and kept coming and eventually she clipped me two blocks from my apartment. Fast forward: Two hours later I'm car-less, key-less and...well...briefly homeless.
*The character which follows is loosely based on my before mentioned sister's dog Musky (who was lost and running scared on Venice Blvd. for a good 2-4 hours)*
Sept 8th:
and I'm running back and fourth from Sherman Oaks to Van Nuys, almost exclusively on foot (public trans is horrible). Off to "jailbreak" my car in Van Nuys.
Impound Clerk: "It looks like there's a 30 day hold, you're gonna have to get a signed release from the Police."
Me: "Um...why is there a 30 day hold?"
Impound Clerk: "Not sure pal, could be your out of state DL, just head over there and they'll tell ya what to do..."
Me: "Well, can I at least get my apartment keys?"
Clerk: "Sorry pal...not without a release...next."
So, I head over to the Van Nuys police department to discuss the situation with the Police, who actually turn out to be "Auto Detectives"? After a brief discussion with the Detectives, I was told my car was on a 30 hold because I had been driving with an out of state DL. Apparently California requires a residence of the state to have a valid CA drivers license in order to operate a motorized vehicle, who knew. I guess it makes sense but I'm starting to become a champion of Federal drivers licenses, or bar codes on the wrist, that makes more sense. So I head off to the DMV, on foot, about 4 miles. To my total lack of surprise, the DMV was packed already at 7AM. I speak with a clerk and tell them I need to apply for a CA DL.
Clerk: "...a passport or birth certificate..."
Me: "...but a valid out of state DL won't work?"
Clerk: "...sorry pal, just bring a passport of birth certificate and that should do...next."
So, I walk out of the Van Nuys DMV, look around with dismay as I try to piece together where I am, how I got here and where my apartment is. I find myself boarding a metro transit bus, paying the $1.25 fare and asking the driver where the heck he's...well, I'm headed. Without keys to my apartment, I stumble up the entryway stairs to the door. Apartment's locked! phone's dead, keys gone, nobody can hear me knocking and it's almost 10am, who would be home anyway? I'm stuck. Where to go? Of course, where does everyone go when all else seems lost and need communication? The mall. Apple Store, email Kurt
Me: "dude, have to deal with some DMV stuff today, hope that's cool. My phone's dead, otherwise I'd call...I'll be checking my email".
Kiosk, phone charger...excellent! Call roommate who was home the entire time I was running around...figures. I get myself back to the apartment and shower, shave, change clothes and tell a couple stories to my roommate E. With a glint in my eye and a skip in my step, I grab my passport and cruise back to the DMV via public transportation. An hour later, I'm strolling into the DMV in Van Nuys ready to slam my passport on the counter, fill out a CA DL application and finally curb stomp the teeth outta the written test. I'm a little nervous at this point, I mean, I've always had my MN DL. It's helped me get out of "sticky situations" many times in the past and I was sad to see it go. I grab an application, get a number (B073), and wait for it to be called. I wait for my number to be called...*"now servicing A074 at counter number 3"*. wait for my number to be called...*"now servicing F809 at counter number 14"*. And wait for my number to be called. An hour passes and I am now a genius in the studies of California traffic laws, I all but sprint to *"now servicing B073 at counter 20*" to hand over my application, passport and knowledge of the California roadways to the DMV clerk (and ultimately, the Governator of CA).
Clerk: "...just read this and sign both copies please."
Me: "...wait, what is this? Are these citations?"
Clerk: "...yup, and you can see there are a couple of them, one in 2005 and the other in June...see, right there."
Me: "...what!? 2005?! So this is going to keep me from taking the written test then?"
Clerk: "...that's right, sorry pal, just sign this and call the number at the top and they'll tell you what you need to do, okay?...*"now servicing B074 at counter number 20*".
After fighting my way through cross town traffic on metro bus 183 (I began to call them by name), I was once again at my apartment. The number I called happened to be for the OC courthouse in Irvine. The before mentioned tickets were understandable; I mean, once I looked at the dates that is. *flashback 2005* "I mean, it's not often an ex-girlfriend leaves her Silver Mustang available while she leaves you for an ex in Australia now is it? naw...go 95mph on the 5 passed the exit she used to live off, go ahead, it's a good idea."* That ticket was $650. The $1520 citation wasn't as dramatic, it was basically a routine stop for my right headlight being out. Apparently this time my MN DL didn't help. In fact, that was the reason it was so expensive. That and not having proof of insurance or registration in the car at the time. Believe me, in the 10 years I've lived in CA, I've been pulled over before and never got cited for those three things before. Which encouraged the laziness I suppose.
I received a late night phone call from C, the girl I had been taking to movies and dinner. She was worried something had happened, cause I didn't call her Sunday night like I had said I would.
C: "...I was just worried something happened and I couldn't sleep, I'm glad you're okay. I'll talk with you tomorrow okay? I'm sooo sleepy."
Me: "...yeah...I'm fine, thanks for the call, g'night."
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