No time today kids. The problem is that my co-worker got a costuming gig for a month. Since we're pretty much the only two who do our work, I have to do it all. For a month. And I'm usually the slacker of us two. So, basically, yeah, I'm fucked.

I'm working. Damn.

I could bring in a temp, but it would take me 4 or 5 days of sitting with some tool in order to teach him/her just how to get started, and then run the risk anyway of everything being done wrong and having to do it myself all over again.

I sound pretty control-freakish here, huh? Well, I probably am. It hit me when I first got to L.A. and was hired to assistant direct a show. By opening night I had fired the light board operator, sound board operator, stage manager/props person, and understudy, all because the time I spent in correcting their incompetent work, I could have just done it myself. So I did. The run was a nightmare but I pulled it off. I think having just moved to L.A. made me need to control something since at the time my life felt so out of control.

Maybe that's happening again.

A few quick minor things:

I'm about to fall asleep as I only got 4 hours sleep last night. My fault, but still.

We're having our drinks/dinner for my boss/protector Fred today and I'm pretty bummed he's leaving.

Last night I went with a friend to see the premiere of Noreiga, starring Bob Hoskins. Bad movie. Nice party afterwards. Good company.

The cat is still alive. She's growing on me. (Not literally... that would be kinda freakish.)

I canceled my tax appointment with the accountant today in favor of going to Fred's farewell. Though I pay a lot, I'm so glad I don't have to do my taxes myself anymore.

Jack Black, co-star of High Fidelity and leader of fakish rock-group Tenacious D just got paid a million dollars to star in his next film, on the strength of his early High Fidelity reviews. Good for the weirdos of the world. (I'm still worried they ruined the book I love so much. Let's hope not.)

Other things going on right now: I just got 3 scripts to cover. Joy. I'm starting a new web project that could lead to getting paid, yo. Similarly, I might have a new writing gig online - also paying.

My heart is still broken and torn-up. And I'm still without my usual insane motivation; it's weirding me out. But I have to get it up next weekend when the film resumes shooting after our extended sxsw and post-sxsw hiatus.

As a couple folks have told me, the reason Courtney B. Vance was at the Oscars is that he's married to Angela Bassett. I didn't know that, and I'm always stunned frankly when something manages to fly under my usually pretty comprehensive pop-culture radar.

The Corin "Corky" Nemec Happy Song Corner

 
 
Nibbling on sponge cake, watching the sun bake. All of those tourists covered with oil. Strumming my six string, on my front porch swing. Smell those shrimp, they're beginning to boil. Wasting away again in Margaritaville. Searching for my last shaker of salt. Some people claim that there's a woman to blame. But I know it's nobody's fault. Don't know the reason that I stayed here all season. With nothing to show but this brand new tattoo. But it's a real beauty, a Mexican cutie. How it got here I haven't a clue. Wasting away again in Margaritaville. Searching for my last shaker of salt. Some people claim that there's a woman to blame. But I know it's my own damn fault... speaking of which. Wasting away again in Hollywood. Searching for my last headshot/resume. Sorry... the Corkster was just rejected for a guest spot on Becker, and I'm bumming. Chin up, self!
 
 
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