So I take back everything I wrote in my previous blog (save the bit about my passover post, it's still coming, very late, I just gotta make it sound right).
Today at work (internship) I was given a free pass to see Akeela and the Bee at the Tribeca Film Festival tonight (it officially opens in two days). I can't go (gonna get a few drinks with some pals instead), but I'm sure I can find someone to give the ticket too.
In addition, tommorrow night I am going to see a short film program for free to cover it for my boss (as in write an analysis of the shorts and report back the filmmakers and shorts worth following up on).
I've gotta admit, that's pretty cool.
Now if only I could find a job that would pay me for this kinda stuff I'd be set.
At my internship there are the cool jobs I have to do, and the much less cool jobs.
The cool jobs aren't really that cool, just by comparison they are cool. For instasnce, calling up agents to see which famous actor, actress, director, or writer is available for a certian project and when they are available. Or reading a book, comic book, screenplay, or what have you and writing up some coverage for the boss. And even compiling lists of older movies with similar themes and plots as ones currently in development.
Jobs that aren't so cool involve the making of the coffee, compiling master lists of actors, writers, and directors, photocopying screenplays, and especially photocopying novels.
The problem being, I'm pretty good at the not so cool stuff. I know how to use excell pretty well, I actually make coffee professionally (well if you consider starbucks professional), and for some reason, I am the fastest photocopier - especially when it comes to novels. You see, when copying screenplays, plays, teleplays, or manuscripts, those just get fed quickly into the machine. Novels, published novels to be precise, come bound so one can't just feed it into the machine, one must go page by page, flipping through the book, to make a copy. I seem to be able to do this faster than my fellow interns. Not that much faster, but enough that I wind up the one doing it to save time.
The down side, not only do I hate the monotony of the photocopy machine, but when I'm out making copies, my fellow interns get to do the cool stuff (comparitivly anyway). Thus, I am penalized (of sorts) for being good at my job.
It's a really lame thing to complain about, especially as I like my fellow interns and wouldn't want them labouring away in the dark recess where the copy machine lies. But it's a pain and I'm in a complaining mood. So there.
My passover post (which I have been working on, put far more time and effort into a blog post than probably healthy) will drop sometime early next week, after the craziness that is passover has, er.. passed.
Not to make thousands of unemployed and homeless peoples problems seem insignifigant but there is something depressing when doing ones taxes and realizing how little money one (me) actually made last year.
There are some strange thoughts that pass through one's head. For instance, I like cheese. It isn't so strange but it is true. I am lactose intolerant but I adore cheese. Not all cheese mind you, the gooier stinkier cheeses I tend to stay away from; and though I do like the ease of American cheese, I prefer my cheeses to be far less chemically processed and treated. Give me a really bold sharp Cheddar, or some fresh Mozzarella, or maybe some Havarti with dill, Munster, or a good smoked cheese and you'll see me happy. I can't ever eat too much of it lest I spend the rest of my day in the WC (as the British say, or at least that's what I've been led to believe); so just like everything else that's good in life I must take it in moderation.
Moderation I've been told is the best philosophy (Epicurus, what a sage you were). Unfortunately moderation is a difficult when discussing infatuation. In fact, moderation only makes things that much worse.
Once again, I am no pedophile. I do not lust after prepubescent girls. I don't in fact lust (a term I'm not so much a fan of to begin with as it makes the forgone conclusion that I am lusting after someone, and it really isn't lust, but I'll get to that in a moment) after some post-pubescent girls - the "girls" part being the operative word, not the "post-pubescent". I don't tend to imply I lust after boys only because I don't. I tend to go for females my own age, and if I think I'm too old to be called a "boy" then those my age shouldn't be called girls anymore. But as you are about to read, this is all irrelevant (quite unfortunately).
I have found myself more and more infatuated (not lusting or lustful, it really isn't a sex thing) with an 18 year old girl (see told you I'm not a pedophile, at least not technically - that is I'm not opposed to it, but the infatuation is not wholly based on aesthetics). It's getting quite bad really. Just her presence in the same room as me actually brightens my mood significantly. She is a friend, and though I am not a huggy person by nature, (I'm just not) holding her in my arms - in a hug as friends do (my New York friends are all huggy people - her included) - I realize I would follow her to the ends of the earth if she just happened to be going in that direction.
But I refuse to be that skeezy older guy who dates girls too young for him. Instead I'm going to keep on pretending I don't feel the way I do, because as I understand it, not having too much knowledge in the field of psychology, denial is a perfectly healthy way to deal with any situation.