Killing Time a Little After Midnight

It’s early fall in LA, typically my favorite time of the year and I’m restless. I’m waiting on an episode of “Entourage” to finish downloading, not that I have any particular desire to watch it, but I fear, like skipping an issue of Variety I’ll somehow be out of the loop if I don’t watch 25 minutes of Vince fucking toothy starlets while Ari confirms every belief middle America has about Jews while the show loft softballs at easy industry targets. I guess that’s why they equate TV with comfort food. Speaking of which I’m eating Doritos because I skipped dinner. I must remind myself that I’m an adult from time to time.

Feel like my life is in transition at the moment. Just extricated myself from a sticky personal situation (being vague because God knows who reads this thing) which suffered from diminished returns as the months went on. Just another lesson on the road of life. Work continues to disappoint me, both financially and spiritually. I fear I’ve been at the same place for so long and have picked up so many bad habits along the way that I’m ill equipped to go anywhere else. Or perhaps I’m just scared to venture outside of the nest (as precariously perched as it may be). I find that, like in relationships, I tend to stay at jobs way too long out of fear of prematurely ending it. Just not good at cutting the cord.

Speaking of relationships, I found out tonight (albeit unconfirmed) that the woman I was in love with in college, someone I seriously considered proposing to at one point is engaged to the guy she started seeing after me (I’m being charitable in this classification, as there was a little overlap at the end there). And I feel… strangely ambivalent. Not quite happy for her but in years past this might be enough to send me on a full-tilt anxiety spiral of panic attacks and pie-eyed nostalgia. I never really doubted that I’d long ago moved on and I suppose this confirms it. Still, always a bit stunning when she who once were “the one” is officially betrothed to another. All the same, I made myself a drink (killing off the last nip of Jack Daniels I kept tucked away in a drawer for just such an occasion).

Tomorrow is sure to be fraught with worry as it’s the first day of a terrifyingly short window of time where I can plead my case against a bogus tax levy the bankrupt (both morally and financially) city of LA has brought against me. It seems because of an iffy tax filing a few years back they believe I own and operate a business requiring some form of business license (not to mention years worth of interest and penalties). This is truly too absurd for words and an insult considering how little I pull in from work. I have my accountant working on the situation but right now I feel like an anvil is hanging over my head. My accountant and parents have told me to remain calm but why shouldn’t they? That’s like the surgeon who tells you not to panic about the dark spot on your lungs. After all, it’s not their body.

A few months back I alluded to some big announcement in this space. Still nothing to report officially. I can offer a little bit of info without getting into specifics. My company has been in talks to produce a couple of low-budget films this fall with yours truly ear-marked for some form of a producer credit on one or both. Of course I’ve been down this path before and when push comes to shove there’s still no money in the bank for either of them. I continue to do work on both and have been paid by neither. Story of my life. I wish I could tell you I felt passionate about both of them but this is strictly a money grab situation and should that money not be forthcoming there’s really no reason to bother with either project or for that matter the company itself. I need a victory here or I need to move the fuck on.

Those who used to come here for movie reviews are advised to continue reading my Twitter regularly as I just lack the focus to write about films at length anymore (sorry). I like the limitations of Twitter and the instant gratification that comes from knowing I’ve got a readership who will have my ever tweet sent to their home page. I will say this though: Rachel Getting Married is the most unexpectedly wonderful film of the fall. I didn’t have any expectations for the film prior to its strong showing at Toronto but it’s no fluke that nearly everyone who saw the film at the festival has fallen in love with it (even my boss, who has questionable taste, raved about it). It’s not some cookie cutter romantic comedy nor is it a dreary drama in the Dogme vein (although the influences are there and easily identifiable). It’s the sort of film you just want to embrace while at the same time is too painfully observed to bear at times. Everyone knows a person like Anne Hathaway’s Kym. Some of us have them in their families, and the film has the bravery to acknowledge that while we may love these people, that doesn’t make them any less of a burden to carry. No film has made me feel more alive this year and for that I am truly grateful.

Quick TV obsession to report: whilst watching the first four episodes of “Chuck” on DVD this weekend I fell head over heals in lust with co-star Yvonne Strahovski who is easily one of the five sexiest women I’ve ever seen. And I’m not even a fan of blondes. No idea how this show managed to be on the air for a year without me cluing into her. Truly stunning and, in a wicked joke I’m eternally grateful for, the show has placed her in a situation where she spends a large part of *every* episode in pigtails and a Bavarian beer wench outfit. The show itself is sort of shrug-worthy. It has an engaging lead and Animal Mother himself Adam Baldwin. It looks nice and looks like it costs a fortune but it’s surprisingly draggy for a super-spy show. Still, Strahovski is perhaps the greatest incentive in the world to watch and until I get tired of gawking I will be adding the show to my DVR rotation (as if there isn’t enough on Monday nights these days.

And with that, my download of Entourage has completed. This was fun. I missed this. Maybe I’ll get back into this. No promises.