My Bad

Sorry I haven't posted anything in the last couple of days. I was trying to get this script done ASAP so I could have someone important read it.

I wish I had a ton of stuff to write today but I'm just BLAH. I don't know why, I had a good weekend and everything.

This writers block is killing me inside right now. I'm trying something new to combat it, hopefully it works.

Tons of love to all my friends and family.

A heart warming story

I’m in desperate need of a heart warming story. You know the type, one of those stories that make you cry with tears of joy, thankful that you get to live in this crazy world.

Stories like Forrest Gump, Finding Neverland or Amelie; stories that are so close to reality but just outside the realm of the average negative day. Something that just sticks to your insides and won’t let you forget about it.

I want to write that type of movie!

But alas, I have no ideas like that at all. I feel like everything I come up with is a bunch of negative clichés strung together to shock and awe the audience. I don’t want to do that, at least not for this script. I want to show my grandma a movie and have her enjoy it.

I know if you’re reading this, you must be sick of these writer’s block posts. Imagine me, I’m sick of writing about not being able to write!

The Whistles

When you’re 8, there’s nothing more exciting than a road trip. Maybe my favorite thing to do during the summer besides visit my father was to drive to California with my brother and my mom, and her best friend Candy and her daughter Monica.

A trip to California always meant visiting Disneyland, Newport Beach, or Sea World; the hollowed shrines of kid fun. It also meant eating out for every meal, at most likely a fast food place. This creates a kid’s dream scenario- tons of fatty sugary foods and hours of running around driving your parents crazy.

One trip, we stopped off at McDonald’s to get happy meals. As you may or may not know, Happy Meals always contain one toy, usually a small hunk of plastic that kids play with in earnest for a half hour only to lose by the end of the day.

This particular time, that toy happened to be whistles. These weren’t normal whistles however. A referee whistle? No no no. This is a whistle that sounded like an air raid alarm, a shrill high pitch that drove directly into your brain stem and made you want to tear out any connective tissue that reached your ears.

My mom was driving when the first whistle came out of the little house shaped box that Happy Meals come in. Soon, a cacophony of screeches echoed throughout the Cutless Sierra...

Take that noise, multiple it times three whistles, add the factor of sugary soda and McDonald’s fries, and jam that into a car ride through the desert.

Needless to say, my mother and Candy were more than a little pissed about the whistles. They told us to stop.

But there was an upwelling of rebellion in our young hearts. The more that they told us stop, they louder we played. This was our stand, a chance for defiance against the women who held us in check. We weren’t going to go quietly into the night. We would whistle!

Never cross my mother, especially with a loud whistle.

My mother slammed on the breaks and pulled over the car, like we just had a tire blow out or hit something. She grabbed the three whistles, and threw them as hard as she could into the desert.

As we drove away, I remember wondering if anyone would discover those whistles years from now and wonder how they got there; like an anthropologist searching through ruins of our once great civilization. They may conclude that the whistles were used in a family ritual of crossing from the desert towards the ocean during the summer.

Weekend thoughts- the ‘Don’t fear the Reaper’ Edition

Another Friday, another weekend coming, another edition of weekend thoughts...

-I won tickets to see the Liars tonight at the El Rey in LA! I submitted to this website, thinking I wouldn’t win and boooooooom! I won! I never win anything! I’m so pumped as the Liars are my new favorite noisy band! Hooray!

-I told everyone that I would have another Rock Band party this weekend but I don’t have the Rock Band video game. I told everyone I would just go and buy it, but that was before I knew I don’t have any money. Lame. Do I charge it to my credit card, knowing that I want to pay that massive balance off? Do I say screw that, I’m going to be responsible? Decisions, decisions...

-I’m still pretty locked into dead on writers block. Man, my brain hurts from thinking about thinking about writing. Ouch. Maybe a little Liars and Rock Band will help all of that. I’ll take any suggestions if you guys have any.

-I went for an interview today with for this Tim Allen movie. I thought I was going in for an interview for either an assistant position or an office manager but the guy told me when I was there it was for another PA. What do I have to do get out of being thought as only PA material? I work for the fucking president of production for Warner Bros people?!?!?!? Why would I want to go back to being PA? Although it would be set PA, which would be fun but fuck that. When am I going to find what’s the next step?

-The Oscars are this Sunday. Should be good times as usual but the thing is, none of these movies got me all that excited when I saw them, so this should be a pretty wide open race. I really hope that ‘There will be Blood’ wins some stuff, that was only movie I saw where I was truly blown away.

-You know what’s a very underrated song? Don’t fear the reaper. Man, it’s a pretty forward thinking song, and I’m impressed that people embraced it when it came out. Why am I telling you this? Cause I’m listening to it now.

Anyway, that’s the weekend notes for me. More blogs on Monday!

A movie moment

Last night was the screening of Tag on the Warner Bros. lot. Man, was I nervous. I was more nervous before my screening of Jungle, my other short, in film school because that was really my first movie but this one was different. This was my first professional screening, in front of people who get paid to do movies.

I had a ton of my friends, family, cast, crew, co workers and bosses there. I had to get up there and say a few words of gratitude to everyone. I nearly broke down and cried when I thanked my parents and Steve, my boss and mentor. Man, what a baby I am.

When the lights went down and it started, I didn’t know how to feel at first. Then it hit me...

With everyone’s eyes on the screen, I felt like I was naked on the screen, not Paul the actor who has take off his clothes in a scene. Why? I guess it was my soul on the screen, my baby, something I had put the entire last year into and now it was in front of everyone, warts and all, for everyone to make judgment on.

But at the same time, it was cathartic. The process is essentially over, all except the promotion of it and the putting it out in film festivals.

That’s when the sinking dread of this week came flying to me, as I sat in the dark staring at the screen. Now its time to move onto to something else. But what? I’m not sure.

Writers block happens to everyone, but when it happens to me I break down inside. I feel like nothing I do is right, that everything I have set out to do is for shit. I feel like a poser, a wannabe, someone with no real ideas, no real artistic voice, no chance to succeed. I feel like everything I do has been done before, but better by other people who are more educated and better connected.

I know its crazy, but that’s the thoughts that run through my head when I don’t have a million dollar idea right away.

But after the credits ran, everyone clapped and seemed to enjoy the movie (or so they told me to my face). It felt good to have such a response to the film, to be surrounded by friends and family who just wanted to let me know that they appreciate the effort.

That means more to me than any film festival award.

After a few drinks at the Smokehouse with everyone, the feelings of dread, insecurity and nervousness went away. I was more nervous about the Suns losing to the Lakers. The lack of new ideas didn’t bother me, at least not during that time.

I scanned the bar, seeing my cast, crew, family and friends laughing, drinking and having a good time. It was a moment where time stood still and everything was right in the world. It was a moment I’ll never forget; a movie moment.

HORSE and how it’s hard to get back to work

Man, its hard getting back into work today. Whenever you take 5 days off of work, its like work doesn’t exist. Then you get back and its like you were never gone in the first place. But it’s been tougher this time than others to get back into the swing of things.

I have a ton of stuff to take care of before my screening tomorrow. I feel a little nervous about the whole thing, I guess I won’t feel good about it until it’s all done and everyone has come and gone.

Plus, I had such a great time the last five days it’s hard to give that up to sit this office all day.

I went to Phoenix to visit my sister Moo, my brother and his new baby and my mom and pop as you may know. It was a good time had by most, even though there were some arguments, disagreements, unnecessary pressure from my sister to drive her around and entertain her. Amongst all that, a special thing happened.

We had one of those family bonding moments that you will look back on for decades after. My whole family played HORSE out front of my parent’s house on the little basketball hoop that my parents have.

It was one of those completely unplanned things that just randomly happen but feel so organic. My sister and I picked up the ball and started shooting around. Soon, one by one, everyone else was out front, taking jump shots or trying to bounce one of the ground into hoop.

My sister couldn’t miss for some reason. I lost to her numerous times. I have plenty of excuses though. We were playing on an 8 foot tall hoop, I’m used to regulation of course.

My brother and dad were as good as usual. My brother’s wife was able to make jump shots with my baby nephew strapped to her chest. We took a bunch of photos of my nephew looking like he was about to dunk the ball. My friend Kyle was there to win a couple games. Even my mom and girlfriend were shooting pretty well.

Everyone was laughing and having a good time. At one point I looked at everyone smiling and thought, this is what life is all about. Family, fun, laughter, smiles. I figured right then and there that will be one of the best times of my life. I better enjoy it now before it is gone, and all of the people there are long dead. (morbid I know, but that’s what I thought about).

Years from now, I will remember this moment fondly like I am right now, as I sit at my work desk wishing that I could be there again, trying to shoot a hook shot from behind the mailbox.

A girl named Moo

This is going to be the last post until Tuesday next week unless I feel like doing one tomorrow morning.

Why? Tomorrow, I’m going to see my sister, brother and nephew in Phoenix. My sister is flying out from Michigan to visit my brother and his new baby. I’m pretty damn excited about it, but not nearly as much as she is. She calls me everyday to bug me about it.

My sister’s name is Moo. Well, her real name is Meaghan or Megan or Meagan, I’m not really sure actually. I’ve only addressed her as Moo her whole life.

She got her nickname from Moo Goo Gai Pan. My father and step mom ordered Chinese Food when she was a baby and nicknamed her after that order. Over time, the Gai Pan was dropped, so it was just Moo Goo. Then the goo left, bringing us to just plain Moo.

Moo doesn’t like when anyone besides her immediate family and her best friends to call her Moo. Some guy who’s mom used to baby sit Moo saw her and started calling her Moo in front of everyone, she kind of got pissed.

I guess I can see why. Most girls wouldn’t like to be named Moo, I guess cause if has certain cow connotations. I supposed cows mean fat. Stupid girls.

Moo is like the best name a girl can have. It makes a girl seem very accessible, fun loving and easy to get along with, which my sister is for the most part (except the easy to get along with part, most of her boyfriends would tell you otherwise.)

Older men love Moo, probably because of all the things listed above; plus her big boobs, cherub face and fuck you attitude. Unfortunately, very much older men also like Moo, she gets hit on by 50 year olds all the time (Moo’s just graduated college, not exactly old guy material unless they have a ton of money).

I can’t wait to see Moo. Enjoy the break from imightbewrong, and I’ll be back with bigger and better blogs next week, including blogs about my movie screening and a top ten list of favorite toys. PEACE!