little bits of minor awesome

Met the big boss at Tribeca, the one who isn't Bob. Her assistants were out and I was working out of their office today. She asked my name and when she found it was hebrew we spoke briefly about both our abilities to understand the language better than we speak. She tried saying "I can understand but I can't speak" in Hebrew, but as it is a gender specific language even though she got the words right generally speaking, she conjugated them completely incorrectly. I was too scared to correct her so I let it slide, and smiled at her attempt. But it was a good first impression over all I guess.

Also, I'm going to be getting an industry pass to the Tribeca Film Festival this year, which theoretically means I can get into any event or screening. I say in theory because I'm not really supposed to use it, and as such am still a bit unclear as to why I'm even getting one. Though I'm not complaining at all. It's my first real pass for myself. In the past all the industry passes I got were in someone else's name (ie. my various bosses) that'd I'd borrow when they wanted me to watch a film they couldn't make and write up a report for them about said film. It's gonna be neat having one with my name on it with a picture that says industry. Almost like I'm actually doing what I want for a living, though not quite.

Starting another gig at a smaller production office in the city near penn station. It's just one day a week, but hopefully it will open doors to a job somewhere else, and I need to remember to talk to people at tribeca to become a reader for them official like, and get paid for it, as was suggested to me by the vp of development there. It's not a lot of money, but every little bit helps. Was going to talk to them today but got busy and didn't get around to it. Either next week or after the festival when everything calms down a bit.

I think that's all the little bits of minor awesome I have going on right now. Nothing that special, or even really that awesome, but I have to take what I can get. Beggar's can't be choosers you know.

Interested in a life of crime?

I hope not because crime doesn't pay.

Unfortunately, neither does being a comic book writer who can't draw.

I know that nobody really reads this blog anymore, and I barely even update it, but on the off chance that there is someone who reads and knows other people, or someone just stumbles upon this using the Next Blog button on the top of the page, here is a ad I posted on a few webistes searching for an artist. If you are an artist, or know an artist, feel free to drop me a line, or pass this ad (and website) along.


I can't draw to save my life. Literally, if I a gun was put to my head and I was told to draw a straight line I'd have a bullet in the brain before I finished. This would be a shame, for I have a pretty, pretty brain, with pretty, pretty ideas, and a bullet would take that pretty brain, and those pretty ideas, and turn them to mush.

I would like to share my brain, and my ideas, especially those comic book related, but as I said I can't draw. That's where you come in.

If you are an artist who can save multiple lives with your straight lines (also crooked lines, really all your lines, whatever shape they might be in) but would like a bit more direction then I suggest we should, in comic book lingo, have a Team Up.

I have stories in multiple genre's and would also be interested in developing new original ideas.

I would like to come up with something presentable to publishers. This is a no-pay gig, unfortunately, at least not until publication. I know that sucks, and it sucks not being able to pay, but this is something temporary issue which will be offset in the long run. Ownership of the property (whatever we produce) would be split down the middle, and all that entails.

I'm friendly, personable, and am not a zombie, werewolf, vampire, or other creature of the night. If all this seems amenable to you, please contact me and we can see if a collaboration is possible.

On the state of my thoughts

There was a job I wanted. I didn't get it. It kinda sucks. This is a pretty boring entry, but I still don't know what I really want this blog to be about. It may just turn back into what it was before, but I almost feel like that would be counter productive. Either way, I'm thinking about turning comments off, because as it stands I only have one reader left after my haitus (Hi Rawbean).

So if I'm doing this for me (and why would I be doing this for me on the internet? if it's just for me shouldn't it be completely private?) why do I need comments in the first place?

Decent questions, perhaps I'll come up with some answers.

Probably not though.

I killed Shrodingers cat

What I did today:

sent out some resume's.

Was asked to write for a start up print magazine On the Rise whose first issue will be out some time in January. There is no pay up front, but the possibility of pay down the line. Normally I don't like writing for other people for free, but right now beggars can't be choosers. Once again, padding for a resume.

Had an impromptu phone interview with a rep from WGBH in Boston for the postion of Production Secretary. Didn't do the best I could do because I wasn't expecting the call and kinda fumbled my way through some of the answers - I had no time to prepare. Who interviews well sans preperation? Not me, that's for certain. I will find out after thanksgiving if they want to see me in person or not.

Scheduled an interview at the local Starbucks for tomorrow morning because I desperately need an influx of cash.

Moved a bunch of boxes full of random crap from the basement to the garage because the contractor is coming next Monday to begin the (hopefully not to lengthy) process of installing a bathroom in the basement.

Watched the Food Network Thanksgiving Holiday Special we taped (DVRed) last night. Got hungry for thanksgiving then remembered I don't eat Turkey and my hunger subsided (well after a fruit rollup and some fig newtons anyway). I am going to stick to my guns; Alton Brown is by far the best Food Network celebrity chef. Emeril Lagasse, Rachel Ray and the rest don't hold a candle up to this guy. He is the funniest, most personable, and most engaging of the bunch.

All right, carry on then...

It's late and I'm cranky

Retail. I quit retail to get a real job that I'd like. Bah, apparently the jobs that I like don't like me. It's incredibly demoralizing to be honest. Everyday I have to keep a chipper attitude, thinking positive, and every day I go to sleep disapointed. I don't want to be stuck doing something I hate for the rest of my life and I don't want to work my way up into middle managment at some corporation that sells overpriced crap to idiots, and I fear if I go back to retail that's exactly what's going to happen to me.

The hardest part is keeping a positive facade. I know, I know, I never seem positive or cheery on this blog, but that's because it's my blog. In real life when ever anyone asks I have to pretend it's going well, keep up appearences. After a while it really hits home - gets me in the gut that I'm broke, in debt, without health insurance and about to go back to doing one of the things I hate most in the world. I know I shouldn't complain because there are tons of people out there worse off than I am, who don't have the same support system I have in place family , freinds, et cetera. Realizing I'm better off than many doesn't really take the sting away, rather increases it as to how much crap there is out there. There has been a panic attack building which I have been supressing as best I can that I think is just going to burst soon, and am scared it's going to be an all out nervous breakdown since I've been holding it in for so long.

I don't know. All I know is that I'm sick of where I am and what I am (and am not) doing. It's not the rejection that gets me, it's the fact that I'm not even getting any consideration, I get no calls for interviews, and no one takes my call when I try to be assertive. And it isn't like I'm applying to jobs I'm not qualified for. Everything and everyone I've sent my resume to has been for something I am more than qualified to do (much of it has been stuff monkeys are qualified to do, at least monkeys with a college degree).

I'm not looking for pity, I'm not looking for compasion, I'm not looking for anything. I just needed to vent and delay the panic attack I felt building up inside. My next post will probably ignore this one completely as that's what I've been doing, ignoring the crap until it piles up so high it can't be ignored. This just raises the wall a little higher to keep it from tumbling down, at least until next time.

And because this has been such a whiny and annoying post (I know I'd find it whiny and annoying if it wasn't about me) I will leave you with something fun (if offended by bad language do not click on link).

looking down my nose (but not seeing much because it's so big)

I recently sent of an application to a website to review movies for them (not just out of the goodness of my heart, I'd be paid to do it). The application was simple. First was basically a short bio explaining why they should consider me a Snob (their term for their reviewers). The second part was a writing sample.

I haven't written anything on my blog for a few days, and still don't have much to report or to really say, so in lieu of a regular entry I shall present you with my answer as to why I am (or can be) a film snob. Only now do I notice my mistake: I used the phrase "when it's all said and done" twice, and I probably shouldn't have used it even a single time. Ahh, cest la'vie.

When it's all said and done, I don't think anyone wants to be a snob. What we do want, however, is for people to consider our opinions above those of anyone and most everyone else. The real problem is convincing the world that our opinions are worthy of said consideration. I graduated from Emerson College with a degree in writing and a strong background in media history and theory. If you need a guy to write a article on post-modern, post-structuralist, anti-essentialist, lesbian, independent cinema, I'm your guy. I can get into the history, background, evolution and artistry in film.

At the same time I'm a big dork. I wish it weren't so, but alas. Just because I know the big words and how they're used, and when they should be used, does not mean I only watch films where those "big words" can be applied. I can dig on the pop stuff too. As a fan of comic books I'm usually the first one in line for the next bright, four color, multi-million dollar adaptation. Simultaniously, due to my background, I'm usually also the first in line to see Jim Jarmusch's newest film.

I know movies. I know good movies, I know bad movies, and I know movies that are so bad they're good. When it's all said and done I am a connoisseur of story and that is why my opinion matters - why I should, as you put it, be a snob.

me being me

I'm behind in my plans, slacking, basically just being myself. I am co-writing a short script with some guy in England and we are working entirly over e-mail. The final work is due on Halloween and I haven't even written the first draft yet to send to him to retool. I have to get on that. I also said that I'd update my online novel A Symphony of Sweets weekly, yet I haven't updated it this week yet. That means if I don't write the next chapter today I've already failed my own expecations and goals. So, today, I shall write the next chapter and it will be posted before sunset eastern standard time on my other blog. Why before sunset? Because that's when I turn into a horrid bloodsucking beast from beyond the grave. That, and it's when shabbat (the sabbath) starts and computer usage is a no-no on the shabbat.

I fasted yesterday for Yom Kippur, and today (with out going too much into detail) my stomach and bowels are exacting their revenge for being so horribly neglected. If only I could convince them that it was not neglect rather a spriritual necessity. Alas, my bowels are not spritual by nature and mock my attempt at purity (my stomach just chuckles, always cowtowing to peer pressure from my other organs).

In other news some investment company or something like that saw my resume on Monster and left a message on my machine to schedule an interview. I need the interviewing practice so I shall call them back, but I am a bit scared as the only companies who have found my resume without my prompting seem to be the same companies who want to suck my soul out of my body through my nose (always through the nose, I can think of other places I'd prefer them to suck my soul out through, but it's not very polite mention such things in mixed company). I can't imagine this investment company is much different as I have absolutely no experience in money managment or investing. I figure it's like all the others and they are some sort of direct marketing firm, or want me to cold call people to sell bad investments. I shall schedule an interview none the less because beggers can't be choosers.

So, uh, carry on then....

Edit 5:30 PM
I have now uploaded the newest chapter ( Prelude part two) and it is available for your viewing pleasure. It's not as good as I want it to be, but as I concieved and wrote it in an hour I don't think it's that bad.

Why do I suck at life?

Just needed to get this out and have no other forum to do so. Just had a phone interview for a position at WGBH Boston, and I think I did all right, only maybe a bit too honest with questions like "what would your colleages say your three best work qualities are?" and "What would they say your worst is?" (the second one hurt much more than the first, obviously) I don't think I'm going to make it to round two, I don't find out until the week of the 26th, and probably won't post again until I do find out.

One question I thought was funny was "how do I set my priorities?" The first answer I thought of (but thankfully didn't say) was one my younger brother once used when asked the same questions: "I put them in a list and order them by level of importance, isn't that how everyone sets priorities?"

I'm sweating so much it's crazy. Man, I'm depressed.

Crossing my fingers

I just sent my resume and cover letter off to a job I actually want. Wish me luck.

Trying to figure out 42

I'm still going through the process of figuring it all out. In an earlier post I mentioned that my life is unraveling, and I want to clarify by stating that I was overstating the matter. My life, as it stands is more akin to legos than anything else. Perhaps you have had this experience: as a child you decided to build a magnificent lego structure. You build and build and build. You follow the directions, and as you are nearly finished you invite a friend over to marvel at your creation. This friend, with no malicious intent, walks over to your structure to inspect it. The friend reaches to touch it and accidentally breaks off a piece. While attempting to fix the gaff the friend accidentally knocks into another section knocking pieces apart. Quickly you pull your friend aside and say you'll fix it later, now realizing the only way to piece it back together is to pull more apart and start over again.

Maybe this has happened to you, maybe not, but that is about as good as an analogy I can come up with for my present situation. Everything is falling apart, but it isn't by any means broken, and at least I have a friend touching my stuff.

First off, I'm not getting any freaking job interviews. None what-so-ever! And this is seriously starting to wear on my self-esteem. Am I really this worthless? What am I doing wrong? And so forth. But this is only the beginning.

I have two friends (I have more than just two but I'm only writing about these two) living together in Manhattan. They aren't talking to each other any more. They were going to move down to Louisville, Kentucky come september, but that looks less likely to happen, as they are no longer speaking to each other, and I think it's my fault. I'm the first one to admit it, I don't understand women. Not one bit. I'm not going to make any stupid stereotypes about the differences between the sexes so often commented upon by lame comedians, suffice to say that there are differences, neither being better or worse than the other. A month ago I was invited to move down south with them, and late last week I called asking if the invitation was still open. I was feeling stagnant, the move was only going to be for 9 months, and I thought a change would do me some good.

Now I'm not so sure what happened next. The two of them spoke, they argued about something- I'm not entirely sure what, I've heard a different story from each of them- and now they aren't speaking, they aren't going to be moving together, and it all has something to do with my question wondering if the invitation was still open. One of them is moving down to Louisville, the other is convinced that she is moving to Eugene, Oregon with me, something I'm still not sure exactly how it happened. I remember saying Eugene sounded like a nice place, something of a college town, and that somehow translated into "Yes, let's move to Eugene together." She currently is so set on this I don't know how to back out without hurting her feelings. But I have to figure something out soon as I'm going to her graduate school graduation this Friday.

My artist, the one with whom I've been collaborating on a comic book, bailed on me. I thought things were going well. Apparently he couldn't pull it together, didn't have the inspiration needed, and bam, gone. This is the fourth artist to bail on me. And once again I go back to the idea that this is somehow my fault. If it's such a consistent problem it can't be just a coincidence. I just don't know what I'm doing wrong. After I give them the script we talk, and I let them know they can run with it. Take as many creative liberties as they think necessary, make it as much their own as it is mine. I don't set up any specific schedules, and try to play it by ear. I don't pester them with e-mails or phone calls everyday, or even every week. usually a letter every two weeks to see how things are going, maybe schedule a meeting in a month, or just to shoot the shit. I never hold on too tight for fear they'll slip away through my fingers, but maybe I should be closing my hand just a little bit. I don't know.

I might be homeless come june 30th and have to figure out where I'm going to live, and how I'm going to pay for it.

So there is all that.

On the plus side, I have a script doing well on Trigger street (it's #250 out of about 2050, the best I've done so far). Also, theNoyse.com liked my writing sample and I probably will be writing reviews for them and maybe a regular column. It's not paying, but at least it's a step in the right direction. So my life doesn't completely suck.

I'm not in the best mood for writing which should explain the poor writing quality of this post. My next one will be better written, I promise.

Uhh.... carry on then

Access denied

Not a single interview, what the hell am I doing wrong?

I hate writing cover letters

see title for more info.

In your ear

I didn't get the job with the ad agency, which is all very good. Direct marketing apparently is going door to door, form business to business, trying to sell coupons, and annoying the hell out of the customers and the employees of the business you are interupting.

That's just sleezy and I don't want to be one of those ass-holes.

that's it for now, Oscar info to come later.

Uh... Carry on then

trust me little ones

What the hell is direct advertising? I have no freaking clue and yet I have a job interview on Weneseday for an ad company that specializes in Direct Advertising. They don't explain at all what it is on their website. I have a sneaking suspision that it has something to do with telemarketing; not something I really would care to do. On the plus side it gets me into Boston for the day so there's that. I'm gonna half to (by which I mean I want to) call some friends to see if they are available for a visit after my interview. I want to bring an extra pair of shoes as mine are ok to wear for a while but I don't want to be walking around boston in them.

Currently I sit in New York (Douglaston, Queens to be precise)watching the snow gently tumble down from the heavens; trying not to ease drop on my brother talking to his girlfreind over the phone. I was hoping to get into the city tomorrow to maybe see the gates they put up in central park or do something else fun only availabel to me in New York. Alas I think my day will be spent in doors, reading comic books, maybe going bowling with my siblings. Roni won't be there so maybe this time I'll win 'cause I'm better than Asaf and I'm pretty sure I can beat Hillel.

that's it for now.

Carry on then...

here we are once again

So it's a few hours past midnight and I have nothing to do, thus I write an entry to this blog.

I'm applying to jobs, being unemployed, that's what one does, or needs to do, otherwise, one is stuck with no money, stranded from friends, living at home with one's mother. I'm not talking about anyone in specific here, just a general observation. Anyway, I'm applying to jobs. One thing I hate (among the many things I hate) are most of the jobs I find interesting posted on craigslist. For instance. Today I sent my resume to a what sounds (based solely on the description) to be a promising position. The problem, the company name isn't listed anywhere in the post, and the only contact info is an anonymous e-mail address. Is this a legit job? Is it some scam just to get e-mail address's from unsuspecting dopes like me? How can I verify that they actually got my resume? It is so very discouraging.

In other news; I've come to the realization that though my grammar is less than desireable, I can't stand when other people's grammar is incorrect. Call me hypocritical (just don't call me a hippo, oh what a bad pun!), but that's where I stand. This realization, this epiphany, became the motivating factor for taking "Eats, Shoots & Leaves" from the library. This book is highly entertaining and has only increased my distaste of bad grammar and those who use it. Myself included, as one can clearly see based on this blog alone.

A joke comes to mind (I don't know if I made this up, very likely because the more I think about it the less funny it seems to be)

Jimmy turns to his roommate after finishing his first college paper. "Finished." Jimmy says.
"Let me look it over." His roommate replies, "I'm a strict grammarian."
"Oh, sure," says Jimmy, "But what does your religion have to do with anything?"

Like I said, not very funny.

That's all for now.

carry on then.

Jump and jive

Man it's late. I don't know why I'm up this late. I gotta get out of my freaking house man. Totally got cabin fever and it's snowing again. I need an outlet. I think I need to get stoned. I haven't been stoned in seven months and I like not being stoned, but the craving has hit. Luckily (in a not so lucky way) I'm completely flat broke and can't afford to buy any toilet paper, let alone any pot. And by flat broke, I mean I owe the bank about one hundred dollars, and don't have any thing else of value save my computer, my playstation two, and my comic books. Man I'm a dork. I definitely need to get out of the house.

I need a creative outlet. I need a job. I need a life. I need a fuck. I need a lot but I'm not going to get it anytime soon. Well, hopefully not too long, I'm am trying.

I was taking to someone recently in Newton, Massachusetts, and he told me that there are two types of unemployed people. There's the kind that sits at home and watches daytime television and complains that the economy sucks. And there are the people that take the time to better themselves, to do some serious introspection, and pull everything together and after it all, get a job. I think I'm the former, though now I am going to try to be the latter. My first step was to talk with this person of sound advice. He is going to illustrate a comic book I have written. I'm doing something, not just sitting on my ass anymore. This is a step. A good step.

On a side note I haven't touched my novel (up to page 101) in probably three months. I'm not even halfway done.

So who really knows?

Umm.. that's it I guess.

Carry on then,