So since the big move to L.A. things haven’t gone spectacularly. Don’t get me wrong — I recognize it’s a long career road and I’ve actually made a decent start at it. But to quote Robert Downey Jr. in Air America , “I told you, it’s on the ground where I tend to fuck up.” Quite a bit of mini-drama in the personal financial front, for which I thank the good folks at Suzuki with their proprietary, hard-to-find car parts and apparently nonexistent repair manuals. I don’t blame my car, but the masters of planned obsolescence that birthed her. But I digress.
So I was working with a theatre company in North Hollywood, starring as Scrooge in a production of A Christmas Carol. It was a great experience and gave me more confidence that I should consider pursuing more lead roles and not worry so much about whether I’d get the part. If I fit what they’re looking for, they’ll take me; if not, they won’t! Again, I digress a little.
The point is that I was all prepared to drive back to Phoenix this year for Christmas so that I could spend time with family and friends, especially one person in particular whom I shall let remain nameless. But, on the night of our one tech rehearsal, I go to leave the theater and my car won’t start. There I am stuck in an empty parking lot in NoHo, no working car, no idea how to get home and my roommate won’t even come get me! (Which I can’t get too irate about, but c’mon dude…)
I did finally manage to get home, but had to abandon ship and I was worried about whether it would get towed. Keep in mind I still had no clue what could be wrong. Two days later, I go back to the theater and — phew! — my car’s still there. I walk across the street to AutoZone and the very great guys there are able to figure out that it’s the starter motor. Here’s the fun part… thanks to the great folks at Suzuki, the part’s hard enough to get that it’s too expensive for my anemic (actually negative balance) actor’s bank account! I definitely want everyone to buy a Suzuki for their next auto purchase!! </sarcasm>
I made some good come out of it, though, and donated the car to my local NPR station thanks to the Cartalk donation program. They have towed the car and some other poor bas– er, lucky person can experience the joys of vehicle ownership. But I had to text my mom and sister to tell them I would be stuck alone in L.A. for Christmas, which sucked; but since I was working up through Xmas Eve at my day job and only got the weekend off, there wasn’t a viable alternative to get any quality time. I then preceded to have text conversations with my sister and her husband as they pitched these wacky scenarios about how I could, in fact, come for the holiday. I fended them off, citing what I felt were remarkably sane and practical reasons for someone like myself. (Keep in mind that I once drove from Phoenix to Long Beach and back on a whim just to see my friend’s band perform. See other blog entries for my complete treatise on Communal Stupidity.) I then settled into a routine to try not to think about Christmas too much.
With about a week to go before the holiday, I realize that I didn’t let The Nameless One know that I would be able to make our date. (Okay, it’s just coffee, but it’s just the two of us so give me at least one delusion, OK?!) I had been waiting for her to contact me with her work schedule so we could find a time. When she emailed me, I snapped. I could survive one Christmas without seeing my family, but if the universe thinks I’m going to miss a chance like this… I don’t think so!
So the setup went like this — my sister and I arranged an elaborate plan to hide this from my mother. Any number of shenanigans from my sister lying about mailing my Xmas gifts to me to talking about having a webcam conversation on the day so I could watch them open gifts. I even went so far as to schedule fake Facebook updates to cover my online absence for while I was on the plane. I’d say it worked spectacularly… in fact, I’d like to show you the result right now:
I had a great weekend being the photographer, since the majority of my gifts were sent to L.A. by my mother, who again had no idea I was actually coming to Phoenix. There are some good poses and I’ll post the ones that came out to my Flickr account in short order as well (after I email copies to my sister as required by familial law in her role as the holiday host… look it up).
Oh and my time with The Nameless One? Priceless…