i’ve lived in k-town in los angeles for about five months now. and after trial and error, some background research, and ongoing theories based on hundreds of blackboard hypothesis, i have boiled down an empirical and definitive guide for all those wishing to come down my way.
1. don’t stand around dressed like a hooker at 3am.
people like to talk. in a world of arm chair bloggers (guilty!), information and bragging rights are now seemingly more valuable and more easily attained than ever before. and through the history of mankind, there has always been the occurrences of people needing to prove something to someone else. a fisherman talking about the size of the fish he caught. a ceo talking about the size of the deal he wrapped up. a girl talking about how great her new life in hollywood is. a mother boasting about the computer proficiency of her son. whether this talk be out of pride, insecurity, bitchiness, whatever. it never really gets a lot done.
i mean ultimately, it’s all bullshit anyway. “i want you to think this, this and this… so i’m going to tell you this, that and the other”. oftentimes it’s a lack of personal security, and an inability to trust the person to make their decision and thoughts based on the truth (isn’t that a quaint idea?).
that brings me to perfectionists. or at least so called perfectionists. i think there’s more people who call themselves perfectionists than there are homeless people on hollywood blvd. and that’s a fucking lot. you can often pick these people out because they are the ones who get the least done. don’t get me wrong, i have no qualms with people demanding the best from themselves. but being your own personal simon cowell slash disciplinarian doesn’t always serve you to the fullest. these people always have the biggest plans. but before anything gets done, they need everything to be perfect. every star has to align. they need the perfect hair day. and the perfect outfit. the perfect location. the perfect manager. the perfect classes. the perfect headshots. the perfect nail polish. the perfect boyfriend.
you get my drift. guess what?
IT AIN’T NEVER GONNA FUCKING HAPPEN! JUST GET IT FUCKING DONE!
sometimes, you just have to get that it’s not going to be perfect. just fucking go. don’t wait go. i remember at the age of 19, i felt the desire to go become an actor. every year, there was an obstacle. finishing a degree. finding a job to make ends meet. saving the money. picking the school. suddenly i was 24 and still waiting for the right time. then i realised something. there’s never going to a perfect time to pack up your life and go to hollywood. the mere idea just seems insane when you look at it. but if you want to get it done, just fucking go. know when you’re bullshitting yourself.
that being said, upon arriving home i bumped into our resident alcoholic (aka. walter) who was trying to “just get it done” (by “it” i mean unlocking the front door to the apartment) by jamming a penny as a makeshift key, into the lock of the door. so i will mention though, “just getting it done” doesn’t mean doing a shitty job. but know when you’re getting yourself into the best position… and when you’re just getting yourself in the best position to fuck yourself.
most people are aware that when questioned about the number one fear of the general population of people is speaking in front of an audience. number two is death.
i’d say having it on youtube is now no.1, shifting death to 3.
you talk about nerves and pressure (i’m told serene had not suffered from a stroke, and was passed medically fine upon checkup at a hospital)… i imagine this is similar to getting stage fright. not only do we have to deal with stage fright (and it’s there for practically anyone to SOME degree), we have to believe in the imaginary circumstances around them, strip away our personal inhibitions, and present to the world, and the people in the imaginary would with us, the truth of the human emotions going on. try telling me acting is easy.
i personally hope she get’s back on the horse. branson is a well known reporter having received two Emmy nominations and the Frank Shakespeare Award for Outstanding Achievement in Journalism.
happy valentines day people…
first off, wtf are you doing clicking on this? anyone at the age where they like bieber probably shouldn’t match up with the age at which you should be looking at nude pics of bieber. are you some kind of sicko?
but seeing as you’re here, i felt it useful enough to bring up “never say never”. a biographical film account of the young pop sensation’s life… biographical. it’s a story about his life. 16 years. i have had cars, and underwear, and unused condoms that are older than that. and probably have a lot more personality and talent as well. no wait, i take that back. i give credit where it is due, and the kid is talented. but enough to the point of warranting a film? i imagine there are producers and managers instead laughing all the way to the bank.
the tag line of the film is “never say never”. and in the trailer, bieber goes as far as to say something to the tune of “there will be times when people say your dreams aren’t possible. well i’m here to tell you that they are.”
well that’s easy for you to say isn’t it? you’ve got the fucking world at your feet at the age of 16. dreams do come true? tell that to the resident alcoholic walter from my building who peddles second hand cushions (and stolen bike tires) on the side of the road for 50c a pop. i’ve no doubt his life turned out exactly like he wanted. i can only imagine how pissed off i’d get if i were in his shoes, catching bieber on tv telling me “yeah man, go live your life”.
and hey, there’s probably some jealousy in my ramblings. and truth be known, confuscious had a saying, that “he who says he can, and he who says he can’t are often both correct”. which i think is fair enough. but whatever, at least confuscious isn’t on the billboard top20 putting it in my face everyday.
right. that’s it? seriously?
i’ve been here sixteen odd months now. and i have to say, i’ve been more than a little reluctant to give in to watching american sports in lieu of my beloved football (the one you play with your fucking feet). you know one area that really differs from america, and the rest of the world when it comes to sports? the bits surrounding the sport. when you talk about football in europe, you talk about the teams, the clubs, the matchups, the transfers. but in america, you do some of the same, but almost as much emphasis is placed on the half time show. the commercials. the people singing the anthem. pre-game shows, post-game shows. there’s this HUGE SPECTACLE that is the superbowl here.
and similar to my lack of understanding of black friday, thanksgiving, crazy christmas traditions, i felt completely out of place and underwhelmed by this tradition. the fucking sport itself is a mystery to me. there are more fucking stops in this thing than a no.4 bus going from downtown to santa monica during peak traffic. the players wear so much armour i’m surprised they can see through the helmet and front grill. but whatever, perhaps i just don’t understand the sport.
but surely i could enjoy the commercials and the half time show. nope. the halftime show had the black eyed peas singing songs from 2003-2008 and dancing with the energy and charisma of marlon brando in interviews in the twilight of his career. then there were the commercials. nothing. and these are commercials which people are paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to come up with. that’s the best you’ve got? the funniest commercial i saw was online back in australia with k-fed poking fun at himself as a rapper/fast food worker. and even that was only funny because he was shagging britney spears.
ok, i’m done. do yourselves a favour and tune in to a real fucking final. uefa champions league 2010-11 in london may this year. i promise k-fed won’t be there.