4 posts tagged “matt”
I ended up getting out of the Hannah Montana shoot at only 2:30, so after running to craft service and snagging a salad (mixed greens, avocado, carrots, chicken, tomatoes....I will say this for the pre-teen show, they got damn yummy crafty) for later and a sandwich for much later (ham and swiss, which I just finished eating), I headed back home to clean out my car and get it some much needed attention in the form of a wash and a trip to Discount Tires for their proffered sale price of $14.99 for an oil change.
All that left me just enough time to run home, hit the gym (yay!), shower and get ready to head out with Matt to the Hotel Cafe to see his friend Greg Laswell. The music is best described as gorgeously depressing; it's the type of music you'd hear in the background of the old WB shows when the main character had just had a massive fight with his/her significant other, yet still managed to have gorgeous hair. Still, the music is better than that. His song, Do What I Can, was written for his mom, who he cutely refers to as "The Lady". She was in the audience last night as well, which just added to the living-room feel of the performance. It was obvious quite a few friends and family members had turned out for the performance, but the rest of us were just as enthusiastic. All in all, the audience was great and the music was beautiful. I highly recommend you check out the myspace page.
Matt and I caught up with Greg about an hour and a half after the performance (we'd stayed to listen to the following act, Brian Wright and the Waco Tragedies. Brian's voice reminded me of the lead singer of Sister Hazel, but the band was decidedly more country. Very fun, and I didn't even want to stab my eyes out as is usually the case with country music. In fact, the song Falls County is quite beautiful.
Greg had quite obviously been steadily drinking since the end of the show, and took great delight in embarrassing the hell out of Matt. He made all sorts of inquiries as to us being there together, asking repeatedly if we'd 'french kissed' yet, a term which I haven't heard since I graduated the 8th grade. Ah drunk guys: the intellectual equivalent of sheep.
Yet I won't be hard on the guy, he seemed like he'd be great to talk to while sober. And like I said, the music was gorgeous.
Today is a clean-up day as my room looks like a nuclear holocaust took place. With clothes instead of people littered about. Wee!
Wow.
Well, that last post was certainly depressing, ne?
Don't worry kids, it's really not that bad. I think it was a combination of week-long sleep deprivation (which I am very much looking forward to alleviating tomorrow morning) and just plain being up til 2am. Add in the new discovery of my roommate's continued poverty and you have a slight recipe for tossing handfuls of Prozac down your throat. However, despite waking up at 8am this morning (which may not SOUND early, but trust me, I'm draggin my heels this week), it's been such gorgeous weather here that I couldn't help but feel all happy and light on my way to the fitting this morning. Add the Vertical Horizion soundtrack from my college days blasting on repeat from my six-disc changer and I do feel TONS better. I promise :)
Still never made it to the gym yesterday, but depending on when I get out of Hannah Montana (snicker) today, I may make it. On the other hand, I may have a date with Matt, who invited me out to a music show. We just never know.
And thanks for the info about Chris Lowell, Jen! I feel a little less dirty. ;)
The hell? I go from not talking to ANYONE new of the opposite sex since I got back from the London/Paris trip, to having three dates with three guys in the space of four days?
whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?
Two of them, well, lets just say they're not worth mentioning. The third was today with the Drama-Boy-From-High-School Matt. Despite the rain outside (rain! hooray! I'd forgotten what it looked like!), the place was good for lunch. I sensed him walking over (because really, how do you ignore a boy who's 6'9 and must only weigh about 190lbs?), but I was cool, I was with it, I was hep to that jive.
He was as adorable as I remember him being in high school, better now that he's kind of filled into himself. Unfortunately, high school, for me, represents all that was evil and wrong and insecure in my life. I've talked about this before in regards to the Mountain Boys, but this here was a living breathing specimen of that very high school life. Not to mention more specifically, a specimen of the drama-club aspect that was nothing if not constant rejection.
Issues? Me?
The conversation was never horrible, although i'm pretty sure I talked far more than actually necessary due to my nervousness. There were only a few mildly awkward pauses, and only a few references to the actual high school of our origin (although apparently he does still live with two of the other main drama-club boys from his year, but in a non-creepy kind of way. I don't think it's quite on par with the stereotypical jock still partying with jungle juice and Natty Ice with the rest of his letterman varsity team eight years after graduation). We exchanged hugs at the end and a couple witty texts. I truly don't know if this will go anywhere, but I do feel less awkward around him now.
I have to admit I was a bit surprised at the original invitation to lunch. We barely knew each other in high school, and if anything, I knew him more than he knew me, only because I was basically required to attend any and all drama club performances, even if I wasn't in them. It was like, "but we already covered where we live now and the fact that yes, we attended the same pit of despair.....there's something else to talk about?"
Yet, a relatively painless lunch date.
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I also, in the spirit of nostalgia, called up the Youngling from last year's encounters. I was feeling friendly (not THAT way) and in all the times I'd gone up to the mountain, I'd yet to run into him. And despite his over enthusiastic pursuit of yours truly, he'd been a genuinely nice guy. And liked Eddie Izzard. I can't hate you if you like Eddie Izzard, it's a law unto my life.
He was surprised (rightfully so) and pleased (I'll refrain from the ego boosting disclaimer) to hear from me. He did still have my number stored in his phone, so take that as you may. I mentioned I was coming up and staying with Trouble Boy, he offered his place yet again, I somewhat tactfully demurred again (although I got the distinct impression that he too thought I was sleeping with Trouble Boy. Why does EVERYONE think this? And why the hell hasn't it happened yet, if that's what everyone's going to think anyway!? I'm looking after the general interest here by trying not making liars out of everyone. I'm selfless like that).
I keep getting this weekend and next weekend mixed up with each other due to March having FIVE weekends this year and not the generally recognized four. This meant that I've been promising people (including Youngling) all week that I would be up snowboarding on Friday if not the whole weekend, when in actuality, the radio station promo ski trip is NEXT Friday. This does not necessarily mean I won't be up this weekend as well, but it does put a little strain on my limited financial resources. Grrrr.
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Auditioning has been maddening lately. You range everywhere from the bullshit Underdog Promo yesterday where everyone waited TWO AND A HALF HOURS or more before being seen, to the lovely quick in-and-out of an indie film called Cup-A-Joe today for Brad Gilmore Casting. He not only was delightful, but auditioned me within the first five minutes of me sitting down and let me know he was having me back for a callback later that day. And at the callback, I did my reading and went out, and the (I adore when this happens) casting assistant RAN AFTER ME to see if I would be interested in reading for another (larger) role. Yay me.
Auditions for tomorrow? Why yes, of course: Tampax commercial at Digital Dogs Casting (this is the same office that had me in last Friday for the David LaChapelle commercial) and another for a non-union feature film called Bled.
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I suck, I was going to put a decent length book post on here about the lovely book The Life of Pi that I just read, and possibly even something about For Your Consideration, the newest Christopher Guest film with Eugene Levy and Parker Posey among other brilliant performers (Ricky Gervais!), or EVEN something about the latest The Riches episode (although in all fairness, I need to watch that again. It's a lot like a more in depth novel or film; you seem to get more out of it the second time around). But. I suck. Because it's 11:10pm, I have an audition at 10:28am tomorrow ( I kid you not, for some auditions, they do give you that specific of an audition time. The idea that they keep to it, however, is beyond laughable) which means that I must be up at around 730am tomorrow to hit the gym before anything else.
Oh and my very first college roommate Bri is coming into town tomorrow! And staying with me! Bri is famous in my mind for writing quite a long letter about why she wasn't getting along with me or our other roommate at the time. While most of the letter escapes me, one quote will stay with me forever. She wrote, "My main problem with [MAW] is that she always thinks of herself before other people."
To be honest, one of more true things I think I've ever read about myself. At the time, and I still hold to this, my opinion of that was, "Yes? And?"
I do think of myself before I consider other people. Always. And I don't think it's a particularly bad or harmful thing. Because to me, everyone will put their survival (although here I'm speaking more of emotional health than physical) before someone else's. Who else is going to, if not you? Of course there are times, many times, where I will put other people's comfort or well being above mine, naturally. But trust me, my initial thoughts were of me. First.
Occasionally I may try to curb the selfishness, but most of the time I go around stealing cupcakes from babies and parking in handicapped spaces at the mall.
so remember when I posted about running into Matt from high school at the AT&T audition and that I wasn't really surprised he didn't ask for my number because really, what else are we going to talk about?
Not 20 minutes after I got back from the audition, there was a new friend request and a message on my myspace page from the boy. Myspace ninja!
Should I be worried about how easily findable I am?
Yeah, apparently we're going to have lunch or some sort of caffeinated beverage next week. That and I have a tenuous date with a guy who I met on the set of Bones on Thursday. Not really a date. I mean, maybe it's a date.
Crap.
The hell constitutes a date these days?
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Happy St. Patrick's day! I woke up to a message from my buddy Danny back in Boston wishing me a "Happy Amateur's day my beautiful Irish princess!"
I'm not Irish. As far as I know. I have an Irish last name, I look Irish, I wear Irish stuff, but apparently I'm really not Irish.
You know how, if you read a word over and over, the spelling just starts to look wrong to you?
Can you tell I'm bored? It's a little late in the day for me to head up to the mountain, and while I did want to go snowboarding, I'm not sure if I want to deal with all the drama that usually unfolds when I crash at Trouble Boy's house. Plus I woke up a tad hungover from last night. There was wine, there was weed (not my usual drug of choice) and there was Seagram's 7. Come to think of it, I'm amazed I wasn't more hungover than I was. There was also a cute boy named Michael, but I'm holding off on judgement of that one.
Meanwhile my roommate and I have gotten into the incredibly shallow and vain excitement of actually seeing the numbers on the scale go DOWN when we step onto it in the morning. Perhaps not so shallow, it is bloody HARD trying to lose weight. Making sure you eat enough that you don't go into starvation mode, but keeping it as healthy as possible, spending as much time in the gym as you can....it's freaking difficult to keep to!
But worthwhile. It may be shallow, it may be vain, but god dammit, it feels good to approve of that image in the mirror.
