Masta Degreee

Oh hey Blogger. So I haven't updated you in a while. You've sort of been replaced by my Tumblr account(s). Yeeeeeahhh... sorry 'bout that. I'm now addicted to that site like I'm addicted to crack and 10 dollar whores. I have a problem. I need help. In the meantime, here's a little mini-update for ya...

I'm applying to grad schools. I've decided that getting my Master's is the right step for me right now. In an economy as shitty as the one we're currently in, it' s just a good time to be a student. And I need something to force me to act on consistent basis. When you're a starving artist, its kind of hard to act when you can't go to class or workshops because you're flat effing broke. Such is my dilemma... But when you're in an MFA program you kinda have to act. Like every day. Which is exactly what I want. For various reasons I've narrowed it down to Yale School of Drama, USC and The Old Globe/USD. Apps are coming along nicely, although I have a lot of work to do as far as monologues are concerned. And there's the fact that my MacBook didn't come with any decent word processing program, forcing me to use that prehistoric piece of shit PC of mine for personal statement/resume. Click icon - wait 20 minutes while hour glass spins - use program that you tried to open 20 minutes ago. I'm gonna go "Office Space" on that thing pretty soon. What was I talking about? Oh yeah.. grad school apps. Exciting stuff, man. We'll see what happens.

Also, there comes a time in every struggling actor's life when he or she must become a barista. It appears that time may be just around the corner for me. And now for your enjoyment, here's my personal statement for Yale:

James Dean once said, "being an actor is the loneliest thing in the world. You are all alone with your concentration and imagination, and that's all you have." After having spent the past year and a half living the life of the prototypical "starving artist" in Los Angeles, I sometimes wonder if any truer words in regard to acting have ever been muttered. Being an actor can be very lonely indeed. Soon after graduating from UC San Diego and relocating to the big city to pursue my dream, I was forced to come to terms with and embrace the fact that I had chosen to pursue a field that requires you to give all of yourself all of the time and, in turn, gives back little.

As a starving actor in Los Angeles there are certain experiences one is bound to confront, in some form or another. Undoubtedly one will become humbled by the fact that, while once the shining star of the theatre department in high school and/or college, he or she is now a dime a dozen - competing against hordes of other actors of the same "type" and ability. One will also surely experience the incessant frustration of seeing that audition that he thought went so well go for naught - often times watching the part go to someone with less technique, but a more marketable "look." Finally, one will almost certainly become discouraged at the sight of several friends, once passionate thespians, abandon hope in the industry and enroll in law school, much to the delight of their parents.

The inevitable question then arises: "why on earth would one subject himself to a life so painfully unrewarding?" The answer to that question varies from actor to actor, but for myself the answer lies in the latter part of Mr. Dean's quotation. Inside every actor there exists an imagination - an insatiable thirst for discovery in the art. For me, the excitement and challenge of interpreting life and bringing truth to a performance succeed in fulfilling those parts of me where the business side of acting does not. My desire to explore and develop my craft outweighs any lust for fame or bitterness towards an often cruel industry.

One important thing I've observed in Hollywood is the congruence of an actor's passion for the art and the longevity of his or her career. While nearly anyone in LA with a pretty face and an appetite for glamour and status is capable of having a flash-in-the-pan career, those who express a dedication to studying the craft and constantly bettering themselves as artists are bound for great things. These are the actors who may or may not be blessed with that quintessential Hollywood "look," but are fueled by an unyielding devotion to the art. These actors such as Paul Giamatti, John Turturro, Liev Schreiber and Meryl Streep, and these are the actors I most admire.

Of course, besides their talent and success on stage and screen, all of the aforementioned artists have one thing in common; they are all graduates of the Yale School of Drama. I've been very fortunate to have some outstanding drama instructors both in San Diego and here in Los Angeles. However, I feel the intensive study I need to take me to the next level as an actor and in my career lies in a top-caliber conservatory acting program such as Yale's. I look forward to surrounding myself with some of the nation's most creative minds, making discoveries and breaking new ground for myself as an artist.

I thank you for your consideration.

The Windy City

I figured since I've been home for over two weeks now it's about time I talk about my Chicago experience at the tail end of my road trip... What can I say? Chicago is just an amazing city.

We ended up crashing at the apartment of Tom's old friend from Kansas which just so happened to be on the North Side in Wrigleyville and only a couple blocks from Wrigley Field. I spent a good hour one cold afternoon just walking around the empty ballpark and taking pictures; empty because, of course, the Cubs had failed to make the playoffs. Shocker! But any hardcore baseball fan can't help but get the warm and fuzzies just being in the presence of that baseball shrine. It's priceless.


The Chicago stay was very relaxed and devoid of much work at all, which was great. The night we rolled into town we checked out a show at the great North Side bar/venue called Schuba's. Although we missed the set of Hockey, the band we came to see, we got to catch Portugal. The Man (terrible name; great band) and they were excellent. The following morning my taste buds were delighted by the best marscapone cheese-filled, cinnamon roll french toast I have ever had at Ann Sather, widely regarded as the best breakfast place in Chicago.

Meeting up with old friends you haven't seen in years is always a delight, and that was undoubtedly the highlight of my Chi Town stay. I spent two nights hanging out with Allie, one of my bff's from UCSD theatre; a girl who has played my wife three times and my mother once. We drank ourselves silly on Saturday night - a night that included my getting hit on while taking a pee in the restroom of a gay bar (Allie sure loves gay bars).


Of course it was freezing balls the entire time. After complaining about he 109-degree heat in Arizona to start our trip, we were now complaining about the beyond chilly 34-degree weather in the midwest. And being from San Diego, of course I didn't even bother to bring a jacket on my trip. Only a Southern Californian would pull a bone head move like that. But anyway, after three enjoyable days in the Windy City I jetted back to LA where I was greeted by rain. Course the trip wouldn't have been complete without another road block; TSA gave me a hell of time getting through security at the airport (no photo ID, remember? ) But it all worked out..

I hope life's journey takes me through Chicago several times again before I check out. It's one of my very favorite places.

Top 20

"List Your Top Twenty Favorite Bands"

So I did... and then some.

Best. Book. Ever.

I got this book a while back. It's pretty awesome. It's called 'Music Listography (Your Life In (Play) Lists)'. 138 pages of 69 music-related lists that you fill out after taking a thorough look through your music collection...


For example: "List Your Top 20 Favorite Bands"/ "List The 20 Albums You'd Bring If You Were Leaving Planet Earth On A Spaceship"/ "List Music From Your High School Years"/ "List A Song That Reminds You Of Each Lover You've Had"/ "List Performers You'd Bring Back To Life"/ "List The Songs To Play At Your Funeral"/ "List Concerts You Wish You Could Time Travel To"/ "List Songs That Completely Transform Your Mood" etc.. etc.. Straightforward lists, fun lists, obscure lists... fun stuff. It's something I could literally spend all day doing. It's the closest thing I'll probably ever have to an actual written journal; in my music lists you could probably find out anything about me you'd ever want to know. It's so me, it's ridiculous. After all, listening to music and making lists are two of my very favorite things in the world.

Each lists also comes with a really cool graphic related to the subject of this list. So like, for "List The Best Concerts & Music Festivals You've Ever Seen" it's got a drawing of a Ziggy Stardust arcade game enveloped in flames, with the caption Arcade Fire, Central Park Summer Stage, Surprise Guest David Bowie 9/16/2005. . For "List The Best Soundtracks", it has a drawing of Frank the Bunny from 'Donnie Darko'... which I particularly enjoyed because the 'Donnie Darko' soundtrack has always been one of my favorites.


My nerdly obsession with this book is pretty astounding. I am just in love with it. There are probably only a handful of people in the world who would be thrilled by "Music Listography", but I am one of them. I feel like they made it just for me. Anyway, just thought I'd share.





Sounds pretty cool, doesn't it Janet? I knew if there was one person who would appreciate this book as much as me, it'd be you. I told you I got you a prezzie for your b-day... Well, be sure to check the mail on Saturday, or possibly Monday.

Hapee Burthdaye

The Dirty South and Midwest...

Rain. Wet. Cold.

Those would be the best words to sum up our five-day journey across the South and Midwest. Really makes you appreciate that beautiful Southern California sunshine. I will never take it for granted again.

We hit the first three states in which I had never been before on Sunday: Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia. However we didn't really get to enjoy all, or any, of what they had to offer due to the time crunch getting from New Orleans to Atlanta to Louisville in 2 days and due to the miserable weather, which drained us of any desire to stop and do anything outdoors. The most memorable thing about our brief jaunt across the Bible belt had to be the billboards (eg "HELL IS REAL"/"JESUS DIED FOR YOUR SINS"/"AN EMBRYO IS A BABY"), the gas-station t-shirts (eg "1 cross + 3 spikes = 4 given" and confederate flags up the wazoo) and the healthy dose of Southern Hospitality we received. Just about every gas station in the South is run by a very..um..."down-home-looking" woman. And these gas station ladies are just as pleasant as can be: "How y'all doin' todaaye?" is the typical greeting you receive in stereotypical Southern drawl. It caught me somewhat off-guard, seeing as how most gas station attendants in California a.) often do not speak English well or at all b.) are usually not women and c.) usually look like they want to punch you.

Say what you will about Tennessee and Kentucky, but driving across them is really beautiful. Nothing but miles and miles of rolling hills, deciduous forest, grassy fields, rivers, cows, horses and farms. Monday evening there was a chill in the air and with the leaves just beginning their colorful transformation i got my first real taste of fall in years. It was really nice. Almost made me wanna live there. Almost.

The city of Louisville has a classic Eastern feel with Brownstone neighborhoods full of close-knit brick homes. Unfortunately AC/DC cancelled their scheduled show there and the weather sucked out any life the city may have had. Our stay there was a pretty uneventful one, the highlight being an in-store performance by The Entrance Band at Ear X-Tacy, one of the best record stores I've ever stumbled upon. And in Kentucky.. go figure.



Our next stop was St. Louis, where Paramore promptly continued our string of 'luck' and re-scheduled their show for November. We were left without much to do but drink in the St. Loo night-life with Nick, a super cool hulk of a man we met during our hotel's happy hour who happened to be both an Army Ranger and MME fighter. St. Louis has this great area down by the riverfront; a few blocks of cobblestone streets from the French colonial days and all kinds of great drinking holes with live music. Sadly, on a Tuesday night they were all virtually empty, even during a Cardinals playoff game. We learned that the economy was largely to blame for this. Imagine the Sunset Strip being nearly empty during a Lakers playoff game. It's kind of like that, which was pretty depressing.

We hit up the University of Missouri (Mizzou) football game against Nebraska last in rainy (surprise surprise) Colombia, Mo where we spread Wolfmother cheer and soaked up the whole college football game-night atmosphere that I unfortunately never got at UCSD. With two nationally ranked conference rival schools going at it on national television in front of stadium packed with drunken students and alumni, it was like like nothing I had ever experienced. Thanks again for depriving me of yet another essential college experience, UCSD!



Chicago all weekend. Can't wait. Stay tuned.

ACL and Bourbon Street...

Austin City Limits (or ACL, as everyone calls it) is big. Bigger than Coachella big. 130 bands in 3 days big. It's also not cheap.. which is why it's awesome that Filter got us in for free. Luckily, after a day of "I hate life" Texas humidity, the first day of ACL was absolutely gorgeous. The music gods were truly smiling down on the 70,000+ in attendance, and they were treated to one hell of a first day. Many of the first bands that played right after the festival opened at noon I had never heard of, but some LSU girls suggested we check out this band Blitzen Trapper from Portland (horrible name, good band) and we were not disappointed. Sort of a Grateful Dead/hippie band kinda feel. After doing some major music marketing we caught the entire set of my favorite French band (other French bands?) Phoenix. These guys totally killed it. Sounded great live and a fun band to dance around to for an hour. After getting a couple Heineken keg cans in us and passing out in the grass during John Legend I had the honor of seeing Them Dirty Vultures, which features Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters/Nirvana) on drums, John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin) on bass and Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age) on vocals/guitar. Any band with members of Zep and Nirvana has got to be awesome, right? Well they were. Straight up in-your-face rock 'n roll. And watching Dave Grohl on drums is mind-blowing. Possibly even better than seeing him on vocals with Foo. Loved it... I then FINALLY got to catch the Yeah Yeah Yeahs live for the first time, opting to watch them over Kings of Leon (the other headliner of the night) and certainly had no regrets about it. Karen O is an untamed beast on-stage. She just goes balls out. It was a pleasure watching her put on a show. No girl rocks harder than KO.



An all around awesome day, only tainted by the fact that I got my wallet pick-pocketed at a club in Austin that night. I'm still pissed, but things things happen in life and you make due... Anyway, despite the fact we had 3 day passes we had to move on to New Orleans, meaning I had to miss bands like Grizzly Bear, Bon Iver, Arctic Monkeys, Dead Weather and Pear Jam... but, hey, we were going to NEW ORLEANS for chrissakes!



Our time in the Big Easy was much too short, but we made sure to do it right. Bourbon Street was a circus as it always is: mobs of drunken people of all ages falling over themselves in the closed-down street. Jazz, clubs, noise, bars, beads, bad smells, chaos, booze, strip clubs, debauchery... that is Bourbon Street at night. Tom and I hit up a jazz bar where a live band was playing and each threw back a $16 'Hurricane', then headed to a more traditional 'younger crowd' type of club with girls dancing on platforms and the whole bit. Definitely preferred the jazz bar. In essence we made the most of the few hours we had to drink up New Orleans before heading to Atlanta yesterday morning, but there's a chance I may head back for VooDoo festival (another HUGE one) at the end of the month *fingers crossed*

The drive across the Dirty South from New Orleans to Atlanta to Louisville has been long and, well, looooong... I'll write about it next time around. I'm beat.

All my ex's live in Texas...

Last Wednesday I finally got the honor of getting behind the wheel and taking the reigns of this bad bitch of an automobile across Texas. She handles like a dream. A bad dream, but a dream nonetheless, which is why we've bestowed the nickname WolfmotherFUCKER upon her. She's also basically an over-sized tin can, which became quite obvious when the Texas winds "blew us around the highway like a prairie dog in a Texas Twister", as I told my buddy, making an attempt to become one with the Texas lingo. The high winds also set up the obvious "I haven't been blown like that since Prom Night" joke, which of course I enjoyed being a jackass and all.

Our stay in Dallas was brief, although I did get pics in front of the Ballpark in Arlington and Jerry Jones' ego project, also known as the sparkling new Dallas Cowboys Stadium. As for work, we briefly hit up the lower Greenville district of Dallas, a hip section outside downtown packed with bars, restaurants, clubs, and music venues such as the Granada where the Get Up Kids were playing that night. Basically Dallas' version of Hillcrest/North Park I suppose, except less gay. We took a few shots with fans and made our way to Tom's friend's swanky condo where we enjoyed good conversation, "Tropic Thunder" and Shiner Bock (Texas' favorite brew).

On the way to Austin we made a quick pit stop in Waco at Baylor University, a private Christian school which appeared to have the have the same social scene and overall student enthusiasm as UCSD... so basically not much of either. The campus did have a live bear habitat though (Baylor is home of the Bears) and a Silverlake-esque coffee shop, which was cool and seemed entirely out of place.



Then it was Austin. Oh Austin.. I previously mentioned what a cool college town Tempe, Arizona was. Well Austin kinda blows it away. Take Tempe out of the desert and into an actual livable climate, surround it with a super hip, super progressive city, and you have Austin - the rocking state capital of Texas and home of the Univ. of Texas. Downtown Austin on a Thursday night was amazing: hordes of people, endless bars, live music, closed-down streets and just an all-around good vibe and good time. Don't see how a college town could get any better.. kinda made me regret all that time I spent at UCSD, not being a Texas Longhorn. We had no trouble reaching the music-loving crowd we sought and had too many conversations with too many cool people to count. The Austin City Limits music festival and New Orleans are gonna need their own blog post, so I'll cut if off here till later on tonight...

The First Four Days...

This is the Cosmic Van (a '78 Volkswagon Bus)...





And this is the Cosmic Van at the Cosmic mechanic...





...and THAT has primarily been the story of Dylan & Tom's Excellent Adventure thusfar.

Saturday started off easy enough until the Cosmic fan belt went kaput in the middle of the Arizona desert. And to make matters worse it went kaput near the "town" of Tenopah. All I can say about Tenopah is that it's everything you'd want in a horror movie setting: nothing but vast desert in every direction, unpaved roads, abandoned homes, a permeating sense of eeriness as the sun set, and not a real life human being to be seen. It didn't take us long to make the decision that Tenopah was not for us, so we took our chances and booked it 65 miles to Phoenix with no fan belt before the engine completely gave out. We had the van Cosmic towed to the nearest mechanic specializing in German-made cars; of course it was Satuday night and they wouldn't open till Monday, which gave us plenty of time to get to know and love Tempe, Arizona.

Tempe is everything a college town should be: a hip 'downtown' area on the edge of the Arizona State campus, a booming nightlife, club after bar after club packed with college students on a nightly basis, a very nice campus amidst the rock and cacti, a strong sense of school spirit (Go Sun Devils!), and more beautiful women than I have ever seen in one place in my entire life. Basically, it is everything La Jolla and UCSD are NOT. {Except for those girls in the UCSD Theatre Dept.. Damn they're sexy ;)} Tom and I thoroughly enjoyed Saturday night in Tempe with the help of some lovely ladies we met at an ATM. They served as our Tempe/ASU guides during our stay and enjoyed drinks with us on Saturday night and sushi on Sunday night.

Of course, things weren't completely swell during our time in Tempe. On Monday our rental car got towed outside of a Starbucks. With the towing company only accepting cash, we had to cab it to a Bank of America and then back to the towing lot. Our cabbie was quite a character: a friendly semi-retired Navy vet who enjoyed blasting pro-America, pro-Jesus tunes ("JESUUUUUS IN AMEEEERICAAAA...") while telling misogynistic knee-slappers such as "What's the difference between Big Foot and a smart woman? ...they have pictures of Big Foot" and "Why do women have small feet? ...So they can be closer to the kitchen sink."

Anyway, we got the Cosmic Van back this morning, decided that the road trip actually started TODAY, and tried to start from scratch. We hit up the U. of Arizona in Tucson where we were mobbed by underclassmen for free gear (When you're giving free t-shirts to college students, they don't really care what's on the front) and hiked several hours through southern New Mexico and west Texas (the asshole of America) where we saw a whole lotta nothing. Tomorrow we make the long trek to Dallas, then Austin from there. Hopefully fun times lie ahead. Until then...

Oh, the agony of being a 20-something...

Several friends (usually over facebook chat) have recently expressed their frustration with life in general. These frustrations have typically been brought upon by the usual social pressures that bear down on the post-grad (e.g. deciding 'what you want to do with your life' and convincing the parents that you're on the right track to actually doing it). These are thoughts I tossed around myself recently, especially after losing my job in July. The weight of the world seemed to be bearing down on me like I'd never before experienced, but what these conversations with my friends showed me was that I was not alone. Not by a long-shot.

A buddy from UCSD/acting class and I just had a long conversation about about his feeling completely lost. I told him what I now tell everyone with whom I have similar talks. Feeling "lost" is what being in your 20's is all about. We are under no obligation whatsoever to know exactly what we want to do for the rest of our lives right now, despite what parents may say. This is our time to explore every possible avenue that we've even considered perusing. That's what I'm doing right now with TV hosting and Filter Magazine. You take a good look at everything you're passionate about and give it a shot. From there you decide what's really meshes with your M.O. and what doesn't.

However, because they're around that 'college grad' age or are even nearing their mid/late 20s, they feel like they need to decide their future NOW. I've discovered that this is total nonsense and is usually a byproduct of incessant parental nagging. Well, the parents need to be told to chill. We've got a lot of living to do beyond our 20s and we've got to figure out what's really going to make us happy occupying our time for decades to come, and that takes TIME. None of us wants to end up in our 50s doing something that makes us miserable.

The number of friends with whom I went to school that actually have careers and real a sense of stability in their lives I can probably count on my fingers, and I likely don't even need both hands. That's just it. Our 20s are ABOUT INSTABILITY. It is the "figure shit out" years, if you will, and sometimes it takes the entire decade to do it. I don't think there's any shame in that. The 20-something years will likely be the loneliest, most confusing, most frustrating period of our entire lives, but they will likely also be the most exciting. Having your life figured out can get boring after a while, I imagine. So I've decided to savor every second of not having a damn clue of what lies ahead.

I think my friends should too.

Wolfmother Crazy Fantastic Road Trip '09

Tomorrow I embark on an 18-day road trip that will take me across the country to 12 cities and 13 states in a Volkswagen Bus, all in the name of promoting the hard rock band Wolfmother's new album. There will be no doubt be long, drab periods of endless, open road for miles and miles, but there will also (hopefully) be a good amount craziness as well. I'll resurrect this recently neglected blog to record the shenanigans that ensure. Our first stop tomorrow night will be a metalcore festival in Phoenix, Arizona. So stay tuned...

Intern fun!

I've always said that I'd rather do something I love for free than get paid to do something I hate....Well now I am! On Wednesday I start an internship with Filter magazine - a really hip music mag chock-full of reviews, interviews and previews of quality music and movies.

As I sat waiting for my meeting in my jeans and short-sleeve shirt and reading about local LA acts in their latest issue, I thought bout the stark contrast it made to my more recent corporate interviews. Today I didn't have to consistently adjust my tie to compensate for the miserable heat of the stuffy waiting room being trapped in by my stuffy dress shirt. I didn't have to nervously toss around rehearsed answers to typical corporate questions. And I didn't dread having to tell the same old lie in response to that "why do you want to work here?" queresion - the real answer to which, of course, is always "...because I need to pay my rent." But unfortunately you just can't say that out loud.

Nah, today I simply kicked back on the couch amidst a group of working hipsters (oxymoron?) in a hip, windowless office and prepared to talk about my favorite bands before causally chatting with a cool, young guy in shorts and a t-shirt named Max. And when that "why here?" question surfaced, the answer was easy this time: "because I love music." Plain and simple. And I do. I love listening to it, I love writing about it, I love reading about it, and I'd rather have a job that exposes me to it regularly and pays me nothing than ever have to get behind that damn hotel front desk again.

it will require me to attend and cover shows and other indie/alt rock music-related events regularly (darn!) and may or may not lead to a paying job in the future. But even if it doesn't, the bulk of my days will once again be filled with something that I actually enjoy. And that's what matters.

(Btw on the way out the door Max gave me a copy of the new Dead Weather cd. Niiiiiiiiiice.)

Ooops...

In my post about douchebaggery written some 4 months ago (a post I have long forgotten about) apparently I quoted a guy that Lisa and I had been hanging out with that night; a guy that neither of us had met before that night and that neither of us has seen since. Well apparently somehow, some way his girlfriend found the link to the post on facebook, read it, and recognized her boyfriend's quote... in the post about douchebaggery. Needless to say she was not pleased. Of course, Lisa ran into her tonight for the first time in FOUR MONTHS and was berated for the insult I laid on her boyfriend. in turn, I ended up getting chewed out. Very curious that she found the post since we are not connected in any way on facebook, but in any case... looks like I'll be writing an apology email.

If only I had a nickel for every "I'm sorry I seemed to imply that your boyfriend is a douchebag" email I've written...

Oh men...

Saturday night I was out with the gang at Aero Club for Marisa's birthday. Struck up conversation with a guy I had met once before (at the Aero Club) well over a year (or two?) ago, but couldn't recall much from our first encounter.

Really cool guy. We talked music. He told me stories about his days as a DJ and filled me in on every show coming to LA worth seeing, including The Pixies (one of my favorite bands). He insisted on buying me shot after shot of expensive whiskey and reassured me that I was gonna make it big as an actor in LA because I'm a "good-looking" guy with talent doing it for the right reasons. If I was a girl I'd swear he was trying to fuck me, but I figured he just happened to be a genuinely cool guy with whom I had a lot in common. Don't meet guys like him that often. So now I have a new bff, right?

But wait... At the end of the night LIsa asks me what I think of him and I tell her I think he's badass and that we really get along well. "Yeah... I'm still trying to decide on that one," she replies.

Yep... he's trying to bang my ex-girlfriend. The same ex-girlfriend I was dating (and with) the first time we met at the club over a year (or two?) ago. In fact he's been trying for a while now. They've gone on a few sort-of dates and planned on taking her to Sea World the next day. He also tried (in vain) to make out with her at the end of the night.

Course Lisa and I have been broken up for over a year. She can do whatever she wants without my approval. She knows that. My point is this: Recent history has shown me that when a guy is being really really nice, he usually has an ulterior motive. Usually this applies to guys hitting on girls, but it can also apply to other guys when, say, the dude desperately wants to make good with the other dude because he's trying to bang his ex-girlfriend. Course this dude could possibly have been genuinely cool. I'd like to give him the benefit of the doubt. But the circumstances make me skeptical, and the fact remains that...

Most men are full of shit, ladies. Sad but true. I apologize on behalf of my sex...

Restaurant managers: FAIL

I can't stand it when douche bag restaurant managers who, during interviews, act like they are hiring the next Secretary of State...

You are hiring a 20-something year old to take people's orders and bring them food and drink. You are not hiring the next leader of the free fucking world. Get off your power trip and stop asking bullshit questions like "Can you give me an example in which you went above and beyond the call of duty during a job?"

If an applicant proves that he/she can be warm, personable and make people feel welcome while also being able to multi-task and manage stress, then he/she is qualified to be a goddamn server. He/she does not have to have a PhD, have saved someone's life or invented the Polio vaccine.

The vast majority of applicants for serving positions (including myself and several friends) are OVER-qualified for saying 'hello', taking orders and carrying plates, yet these guys (yes, mostly guys) look down their nose at people who haven't served for a dozen years and don't answer their lame questions like a corporate whore.

You're 38 and you work at fucking Black Angus. Get over yourself. You fail at life.

"How'd it go?"

It’s always hard to answer the question “how’d it go?” after an audition because you never really know ‘how it went’ from the casting director’s point of view - which is all that really matters.

That being said, I went in prepared and presented myself professionally, making sure to build a rapport with the producer and reader (both of whom I met for the first time) before I started my reading. I understand that with this being a studio film with a budget and my being a no-name actor that nobody’s ever heard of, the chances of my actually getting cast in the lead role that I read for are slim to none, but what an awesome experience… and it’s always fun to hear the casting director say “this is the actor I told you about” to someone else :) Whatever the result, I now have a contact in L.A. that will remember me in the future, and that’s HUGE.

And this’ll go down as my favorite email to date…

fromRussell Boast
toDylan John Seaton

dateMon, Aug 3, 2009 at 12:00 PM
subjectRe: Hi Russell…

It is only a pleasure, you are truly very talented and I don’t say that a lot. How’s your Brooklyn accent? Do you think it’s something that you could do authentically?

I nominate YOU for the "Honest Scrap Award"...

The Honest Scrap Award rules are as follows:

1. “The Honest Scrap” award is not one to hold all to your self but it must be shared!
2. The recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves in their blog that no one else knows.
3. The recipient has to pass along this prestigious award to 10 more bloggers.
4. Those 10 bloggers all have to be notified they have been given this award.
5. Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog that awarded them.

No one else knows…

1. I now have an addiction to PinkBerry; I ate it four times this week, including tonight.
2. The oldest woman I’ve ever kissed was 36 years old (I was 24), and I have absolutely no shame because she’s gorgeous and a lovely person to boot.
3. I’ve lost a grand total of 30 lbs. since January, 2007.
4.Even if I looked like one of the Spartans in “300” I would still be painfully self-conscious about my weight. I’m worse than most girls in that respect. Call it “Fat Teen” Syndrome.
5. My biggest fears are ending up alone, never doing anything with my life that I’m truly proud of, and letting my mom down.
6. Last week I made a list of the qualities I find most attractive in a woman. I know but one girl to whom all of these qualities apply; her name starts with an “N” and I have a bit of a crush on her. I’m pretty confident she knows this… We’re having sushi on Sunday :)
7. I’ve been far too picky this week in regard to job applications because I’ve been afraid I’ll end up doing something that I’m over-qualified for and ashamed of. I realize now, however, that as long as it supports the ultimate goal of being a working actor, it doesn’t matter what I do or what people think about it.
8. Manic depression runs in my family; sometimes I feel like it did not skip over me.
9. If I ever become truly wealthy, I’m going to break records in the amount I give away to charity; my being happy has very little to do with material possessions. I could never be with someone who needed a lavish lifestyle to be happy.
10. Whenever I’m running on the treadmill, I pretend that I’m a rockstar singing the song that I’m currently listening to on my iPod on-stage in front of thousands of adoring fans.

I now nominate the following bloggers for the “Honest Scrap Award”…

Ryan
Dan
Megan
Leah
Lindsay
Dylan C.
Janet
Emily
Abe
Katy

YOUR TURN!

Decisions, Decisions...

I have about a 5-page blog entry to write about the last week, but for now all feel like saying is

Man... I dunno what I should do. I have to make an important decision by tomorrow evening and I just don't know... I need someone to talk to. Blah.

Dazed and Confused

Been dazed and confused for so long it's not true.
Wanted a woman, never bargained for you.
Lots of people talk and few of them know..
soul of a woman was created below.

Ah, Robert, so wise...

Natalie, where are you?

Getaway Days...

Next month I'm taking a week and getting the hell outta here: Away from home, away from work, away from the Valley heat, away from 405/Santa Monica Blvd. traffic.. just AWAY. But where? I've narrowed it down to a few places, some of which I'd need a person (or people) to tag along and others of which I wouldn't mind going it alone.

*Sidenote: I don't mind going places alone at all, in fact, it's something in which I usually take great pleasure. When I was 19 I spent 2 days in New York by myself and LOVED IT. Last week I spent the day at the beach in Santa Monica with no one else's company but my own and it was one of the most relaxing days I've had in recent memory... And going to movies alone? Yeah, I sometimes do that too. Not that I'm not a social person; I like to hang out with friends, meet new people and party just as much as anyone, but alone time is just something I Must have. With a capital 'M'. It keeps me sane. So would I mind spending my vacation going on an "Into the Wild"-esque (sort of) adventure all by my lonesome? Not at all... OK what was I talking about? Oh yeah, where am I going on my vaca!? Well here are my thoughts:

BY MYSELF
*New York (a re-enactment of Spring, 2004 would be pricey, but amazing)
*The Bay Area (a road trip would be sweet and would allow me to see my bro in Santa Cruz)

WITH PEEPS
*Las Vegas (going here alone would just be sad; would need to round up the boys)
*Baja (I have this vision of myself in a Corona commercial, but would need someone to lay next to me)

We shall see...

Host THIS

I found the following breakdown on Actor's Access this morning. I would absolutely love to work on something like this. Hosting a show about music would be somewhat of a dream job for me... especially if it was on the FUSE network, VH1 or MTV2. The new commercial agency I signed with last week is interested in getting me into hosting. Unfortunately, I have no experience :( ...But fortunately I am enrolling myself in classes that will get me in front of the camera and used to teleprompters, que cards, and interacting with guests and co-hosts. Hooray!

BETA RECORDS TV - SEASON 2 (Host)
Cable
NON-UNION
Weekly 1/2 hour music show

Executive Producer: Chris Honetschlaeger Casting Company: Sam Rhima Casting
Casting Director: Sam Rhima
Casting Assistant: Kim Fattorini
Interview Dates: July, 18, 09
Shoot/Start Date: End of July - Dec 2009 and may extend
Pay Rate: $100-$500 per day depending on hours worked
Location: Hollywood

SUBMIT ELECTRONICALLY

NOTE: ALSO INCLUDE PERFORMANCE VIDEOS OR ACTOR SLATES IF AVAILABLE. DO NOT SEND DEMO TAPES.

BETA Records TV has a music centric focus. Each segment features well-known and emerging artists, music industry executive interviews, reports on new CD releases, the latest in music equipment and recording techniques, and trends in pop culture.

This is a weekly music show that is syndicated across major TV networks in over 140 cities (Ch 9/Sat 1pm here in Los Angeles), including Dish as a music centric show for teens (current viewership on TV is about 1.2M weekly).

Casting Male and Female Host with a great passion, look and sense (knowledge) for music to host the BETA Records TV show for it’s 2nd Season.

[ MALE HOST ]
18-25/ Good look/ MTV/VH1 VJ style look and personality. Some host experience preferred. (Please note experience)

The Seven Deadly Sins...

Winding down Laurel Canyon yesterday on my way to work I randomly started thinking about the movie 'Se7en' which made me think about the Seven Deadly Sins which made me wonder... which sins am I most (and least) guilty of? Here's how I broke it down, from least to most sinful:

7.)GREED- Undoubtedly the sin of which I'm least guilty. Granted, I have little to be greedy about at the moment, but the only reason I'd ever hope for money and material possessions in the future is to spend and share them with friends, family and charity. I get infinitely more pleasure out of giving than receiving... 'cept if you pick food off my plate without asking first - then I'm one greedy bastard! But in all honesty, I will never have a problem with this one.

6.)GLUTTONY- Sure, from time to time I'll hit up In-N-Out and go hog-wild, but that's about as gluttonous as I get. Whether it's with food, money or anything, I rarely over-consume and try my hardest not to be wasteful. I'm all about moderation and conservation, yo.

5.)PRIDE- Ok, so sometimes I get caught checking out the man in the mirror to make sure everything's lookin' alright. However, this is more a product of the insecurity I've had about my physical appearance since I was an over-weight, brace-faced pre-teen with acne, and much less a result of being narcissistic. And I may go to the gym religiously, but once again that's mostly out of fear of being an obese blob again. I also absoluteley loathe talking about myself (except on this blog), but I do use forming cream in my hair.. so consider me modestly guilty. Hah.

4.)WRATH- Certain things make me angry: The Padres, the Chargers, dumbass/asshole drivers, stupid/thoughtless/ignorant people. Under certain (rare) circumstances some people might even say I'm irratable or even have a temper, but this is certainly not to an extreme. I've still never been in a fist fight, in fact I've never in my life physically hurt anyone out of anger (except for maybe my little brother when we were kids.) I definitely consider myself more of a lover than a fighter, but cut me off on the freeway or hurt someone I love and I will fucking cut a bitch!

3.)LUST- Sometimes pretty girls make me stupid; sometimes they make me do dumb, completely out-of-character things. I'll admit to this... (As I'm writing this paragraph, in fact, a very attrative brunette Australian girl came up to the desk to set up a ride to LAX with our driver and as I was talking to her I thought, "Yeah, I'd probably do some ridiculously stupid things for a night with her." But I think this just makes me guilty of being a MAN) ...Anyway, if I was some Hollywood big shot and women were constantly throwing themselves at me it might create major problems for me, but luckily (or unluckily?) that's not the case.

2.)SLOTH- Nowadays I wake up at 11am. Any time before that is pretty painful. True, I don't work until 3pm or later, but it's also true I could be much more productive with these morning hours: submitting myself for projects, sending headshots to agents, what have you... I know that I could definitely stand to be a little more motivated, considering how badly I want a career. But don't get me wrong I'm not a complete sloth; I do work full time, actively pursue acting jobs and work out 5 times per week.. but are there more important things I could be occupying my time with than sleeping and fantasy baseball? Absolutely.

1.)ENVY- I've noticed I often harbor ill feelings toward people who have things that I want, often for no good reason: guys in the industry who have success by getting by on their looks, guys who got the girl I wanted, people with stability in their lives who don't have to worry about how they're going to pay their bills this month. I curse them for having it, then come down hard on myself for not having it. They got it. I want it. Fuck them. GUILTY!

(But would I ever intentionally hurt someone out of envy? Of course not...)

So there ya have it. Brad Pitt, Morgan Freeman and Kevin Spacey would be proud.

Imagine this...

A guy you've been dating for a few months finds out that you briefly dated one of your close male friends about a year ago. This occurred several months before you had even met your current boyfriend. Nothing has happened romantically between you and your close friend for so long now that it now feels like ancient history, and you have dated a number of other guys since..

But upon finding this out, your boyfriend proceeds to act like a small child, literally... He has a hissy fit and runs away into the night, not to be seen or heard from again until the following day. For the next several weeks your boyfriend uses this triviality as ammunition against you every chance he gets; so much so that you engage in heated arguments on more than one occasion. Keep in mind, your boyfriend is a guy who recently revealed to you that he hooked up with a stripper during the short time he has known you. That's right, a stripper.. and expected you to be completely fine upon finding out about this tasty little tidbit of information.

Boyfriend says that the sight of your friend's posts on your facebook page makes his blood boil, and he orders you to remove him as your friend on the social networking site. In fact, he orders you to sever ties with your close friend altogether: you can't be around him, you can't call him, you can't text him, you can't breathe the same fucking air as him.

So what do you do?

Do you perhaps realize that your boyfriend is a ridiculously insecure, jealous, controlling, immature, hypocritial douchebag that will make a scene every time you so much as glance at another man?

Or do you do as King Boyfriend commands and disown your friend, who clearly has done nothing wrong.. and who is one of the most loyal friends you will ever have in your lifetime?

If I was a girl in this position I know I would choose the former. Most would have enough self-respect to do so, I think. Unfortunately, not all fall into this category.

And that is quite unfortunate.

Funny how one or two.. or nine little words are enough to keep you up all night...

Tomorrow Never Knows

I couldn't sleep last night. After watching Robert Downey Jr. in "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" (a quality comedy/action movie) I found myself wide awake in the wee hours. So I grabbed the iPod and bounced around my room to some Stevie Ray Vaughan for a bit. Then, at nearly 5am, I decided to take a shower in an attempt to put mind and body at ease.

Before I got out I felt inclined to lay down in the tub as if I was taking a bath. I closed my eyes and, as a famous band once said, turned off my mind, relaxed, and floated down stream...

I felt the hot water from the shower splashing all around me and turned it into a hot tub over-looking the beach at sunset in a tropical location. The music I heard in the background had a Latin flavor, so I think it was Mexico, possibly Puerto Vallarta. In my right hand was a mai tai (a fruity drink, yes, but I was far away in a tropical paradise so Man Laws permit it.) To my left was a girl.. Who? I'm not sure exactly. Maybe she was blonde, maybe she had olive-colored skin. I couldn't tell for sure.. but I had my arm around her. And we just sat there. Listening to the ocean and the music. With the smell of carne asada and carnitas wafting in from a distance. And as I soaked there under the pink sky I had no worries about money. No anxiety about acting. No stress about traffic. No nothing. Except the beach and the sunset and the mai tais and the sounds and the smells and her. And at that moment I was content with the world. I had absolutely everthing I needed in life.

And then I opened my eyes.

Ode to 3 Rad Dads...

On this Father's Day I think it's only appropriate to pay tribute to the three men who have raised me and been about the best damn father-figures a guy could ask for...

Dave Seaton is a hell of a dad. He's the type of dad that would literally drop everything and move 3,000 across the country just to be closer to his sons.. which he did, of course, when my brother and I moved to Masssachusetts with my mom in 1994. When we moved back to California in 1998, he dropped everything yet again and followed us right back. In fact no matter how many times we moved (and we moved a lot) or how far away, it was never far enough to keep my dad from making the long treak every weekend to take Jeff and me out to lunch and a movie. He would do just about anything we asked him to, within reason of course. Last night I told him I had left my cell phone charger in Carlsbad; by 10:45am this morning it was back in my possession, thanks to Dad. My dad has always been a vital presence in my life; he wouldn't have it any other way. I've always gotten bi-(or tri-) weekly calls from him to get the latest on what I'm doing with my life (and make sure I'm doing it right!) Because, straight up, my dad cares. He's as loyal to his boys as they come. And that's pretty awesome.

Dick Rivoira wins. What does he win? ..Oh just "Coolest Stepdad Ever," of course. Far too often you hear about how much of a douchebag So-and-so's stepfather is. Well not this guy. By the time he decided to ask my mom to marry him (when I was 10), Dick had already raised and put three children through college... For Mom, Jeff and me he was happy to do it all over again. And he's done one hell of a job. Whether he's cracking one of his famous "jokes", or charming the pants off the lady-friends we bring over, or texting me after the latest Padres/Chargers win/debacle, Dick's one hip and cool guy. Don't believe me? Then obviously you don't know Dick. I mean how many stepdads are cool enough to play ice hockey, ride motorcylces, talk in a badass Boston accent, and STILL find the time to raise two stepkids as his own? Well I can think of one. He just so happens to be married to my mom. And I'm pretty lucky for that.

From the days when I was three feet tall, had blonde hair, and called him "Crappah", I've always thought of Jack Garner as more of a best friend than a grandfather. My earliest memories are of my grandpa eating plums with me from the trees at his old place on Valley Rim Rd. while rocking back and forth on his swing. Many of my fondest memories, in fact, include my grandpa. And why shouldn't they? Since I was a kid he's been "The Most Interesting Man in the World" for me, brimming with life stories that have fascinated me since as long as I can remember. That Dos Equis guy has got jack on Jack as far as I'm concerned. I've learned more from him than I can even recall... A Charger game just wouldn't be a Charger game withough talking to Grandpa after it, a birthday just wouldn't be a birthday without Grandpa telling me how proud of me he is, and my youth just wouldn't have been the same without having a man as kind and admirable as Grandpa in it.

So Dad, Dick and Grandpa: here's to you.. Happy Fathers Day!

The fairer sex

At the risk of sounding odd and somewhat creepy, I'd just like to mention how much I love women. I love talking to them, listening to them and watching them do their girly things. I love hanging out with them, opening doors for them and, from time to time, flirting with them. I love how charming they are, how complex they are and how vulnerable they are.

I've found that most of the time they're more fun to spend time with than guys. A chat with a girl can run the gambit as far as topics of converstion: life, love, family, friends, ex's, turn-ons, turn-offs, music, movies, current events, the world at large, etc... A conversation with another guy usually consists of two things: 1.)Sports and 2.) Women.

Women are physically beautiful.. even the ones that aren't particularly attractive. Sadly, we men are not. Not in the least. While their bodies have been the subject of works of art for centuries, ours are just awkward-looking and built to move heavy objects and not much else. In fact, sometimes I don't understand what about a guy attracts a girl at all.

Sometimes they infatuate me; sometimes they scare the living shit out of me: whenever I feel like I've hurt or offended a girl my heart immediately sinks into my stomach. But they always captivate me. Women are an intricate coil of thoughts and emotions that I will never fully understand, which is perhaps why I find them so incredibly fascinating. I would NEVER want to be a woman, not even for a day... but man oh man do I love 'em.

Pubic Enemies #1 and #2

Due to a customer complaint, this was replaced by a 3-D cardboard Harry Potter advertisement five minutes after we took these photos...

WARNING: Long, Boring (political) Post; DON'T READ!

On Friday afternoon I checked Mr. Newberry into the Beverly Hills Plaza Hotel. A very friendly middle-aged gentleman, Mr. Newberry was an easy check-in with only one simple request: "Can you please add Alberto Curotto, my husband, to the reservation?" He placed an ever-so-subtle emphasis on the word "husband", as if he was eager to see what my reaction would be to the word. It's likely he anticipated a response ranging from a double-take to a widening of the eyes to the gag reflex. However, I went about my business as casually as if he had asked if I could add his wife to the reservation, replaying "sure, I'd be happy to add your husband's name. Could you please spell that for me?" The utter indifference of a heterosexual male to his homosexual marriage seemed to pleasantly surprise Mr. Newberry... and I think that's really unfortunate.

Remember when women couldn't legally vote or own property? Remember when a black person couldn't legally marry a white person? Of course not.. because these are Dark Age laws of decades long-past. Yet here we are in the 21st Century and my great uncle Donnie and his partner Russ, who live in Missouri and have been in a loving relationship for around 40 years, couldn't get married even if they wanted to. But creating a ridiculous television "reality" show in which a bunch of bimbos battle it out to marry a complete loser they don't even know, and then divorce a few weeks later? Well that's totally legit, right? There's plenty of "sanctity" in that, right? C'mon now...

I believe that state laws outlawing gay marriage are no less outdated, discriminatory and downright asinine than laws that would forbid my white cousin Charmie from marrying her black husband Steve, or laws that would deny my mom, grandma, and the two girls that follow my blog the right to vote. The rights to vote and marry are civil liberties protected by laws based on the Constitution of the United States of America, not the Holy Bible.

Now I have the utmost respect for Christians and the Bible, and I understand that Leviticus 18:22 says "Thou shalt not lie with mankind" ...but the Bible also says a lot of other things too.. I went to church a few months back here in Los Angeles. The young, very intelligent, very eloquent preacher of the evangelical church I attended quoted often from Romans in his sermon. He spoke of the dangers of self-righteousness in Romans 3:9, "What then? are we better than they? No, in no wise: for we have before proved both Jews and Gentiles, that they are all under sin; As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one: '", and also in Romans 3:23, "Even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe: for there is no difference: 23 For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus."

So, therefore, all people are sinners and NO ONE can meet God's standard of righteousness, right? And righteousness comes not from what WE DO but what GOD us done for US, right? Then it seems to me that acting morally superior to others (like gay people) and trying to become righteous by doing what one consider's "God's work" (like, perhaps, passing Proposition 8) is actually the antithesis of Christianity. When the pastor (talking about the Bible) yelled out "It's about Jesus! It's not about you!" it became clear to me that real Christianity is about becoming righteous by your faith in God, not by any works or deeds of your own... and certainly not by using the name of Jesus, the ultimate symbol of compassion, to restirict the fundamental rights of an entire group of people.

So anyway, in a (gigantic) nutshell, that's why I hope that someday Mr. Newberry won't need to stress the word "husband."

8 years in the making

After 8 long years it has finally happened: Today I got a new driver's license.. with a NEW PICTURE!

2001...

2009...


...That's right. For 8 whole years I was forced to flash the above 16-year-old, brace-faced pic every time someone asked "to see some ID." For the first couple years it was no biggie, but when you're 24 years old and you're using a picuture of yourself from a time before your balls dropped it's kind of ridiculous. To put into perspective exactly how much time has passed since this photo (that I used until today) was taken, here's a clusterfuck (love that word) of things that have happened in the meantime:

I lettered in cross-country and track & field, I attended four high school proms, LaDanian Tomlinson and Drew Brees were drafed by the Chargers, I dated Jessie for over a year, terrorists attacked the World Trade Center in NYC, Beatled George Harrison died of cancer, I took my first acting class as a freshmen at UCSD, I changed my major from Communication to Theatre as a sophomore, I dated Raechyl for over 2 years, the Bush Administration decieved the nation into supporting a pre-emptive war in Iraq, I was cast in my first play, Bush deceived the nation into re-electing him, I dated Lisa Marie for over 2 years, I served as Communications Director, Vice President and President during 3 years with the UCSD College Democrats, Radiohead released "Amnesiak", "Hail to the Thief" and "In Rainbows", I organized a successful mass protest of the Iraq War at UCSD, I received my degree in Theatre from UCSD, I moved back home to Carlsbad for over a year after graduating from college, I starting doing regional theatre in San Diego, I moved myself to Los Angeles, Barack Obama was elected 44th President of the United States (thank GOD!), I was cast in my first SAG feature film, I started this blog...

And the rest is history.

Not really.

Liar Liar

Interesting exercise in class tonight.

To help us develop our showcase characters, we were asked to walk the streets of downtown San Diego for an hour in character - doings things our characters might do, going places they might go, sayings things they might say, etc. Doing so would help us discover who this person really is and thereby create a more believable performance. We would then report back and reveal to the class what invaluable knowledge we gained about our character as a result of the exercise. Easy enough, right?

My character, Blake, is a womanizer, so I initially figured I'd go to various Gaslamp bars and prey on as many women as possible. However, I realized the thing that confounds me most about Blake is that he is a compulsive liar who manufactures stories to dupe women into loving him. He is such an amazing liar, in fact, that he even convinces himself that his lies are actually the truth. Personally, I am not a great liar by any means, so I decided that this was the quality of my character that I most needed to explore... and I decided to turn the exercise on it's head. And what better way to test one's ability to lie than to make a room full of actors believe every word of a completely fabricated story? For me, the real exercize began when I returned to class...

I spent my hour at Hooters drinking a couple beers, watching the Lakers and tieing for first in a trivia contest. I used this as the backbone for my tall tale and fleshed out the rest with my imagination. It was an elaborate tale that involved winning a beer-chugging contest and charming the pants off a beautiful brunette bartender so much that she gave me her phone number (which I showed to the class). I told the story to the class in the same manner that I imagined Blake would tell one of his two girlfriends the story of why he can only see her three days out of the week. While sitting at the bar I went over the story so many times in my mind that I practically convinced myself that it was true. I imagine this is what compulsive liars do.

The class lapped it up. Believed every minute detail I created.

Exercise: successful.

The Last Ride

Sometimes I just wanna hop in a '54 Porsche Spyder, haul ass out to Cholame, and let history repeat itself...

Ode to My Mom

Unfortunately, this year I'm not able to see my mom on Mothers' Day because of work, so I thought I'd let her know how much she's appreciated by writing her her very own Ode...

Karen Garner-Rivoira is one of the most amazing people you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. Her kindness, generosity and empathy for her fellow man (and animal) make Mother Theresa look like Cruella De Ville.

You must understand: I hear "ohh, how's your mooom??" and "ohh, I miss your mooom! Tell her I say hi!" on nearly a daily basis. When I was 17 I started bringing girls over to the house in Carlsbad to hang out and meet Mom; each and every one immediately fell in love with her.. and why wouldn't they? Meeting her for the first time, many are taken aback by how genuinely warm, affable and welcoming she is - like almost an unearthly kind of nice. Remember how sweet, loving and all-around awesome Norma Arnold in The Wonder Years was? Well multiply her by 1000 and you have my mom.

I kid you not, guys: this is a woman so understanding that she once responded to finding a bloody used band-aid in her salad at a restaurant by smiling warmly at the server and kindly asking for another, as if they had only mildly inconvenienced her. This is a woman so compassionate that she'll stop the car and pick up each and every lost dog she sees walking down the road in an effort to find the poor pooch's owner. This is a woman so supportive that she paid to see my last play six freaking times! And this is a woman who, after reading my post about being told I look like Emilio Estevez, emailed me pictures of a young Emilio and assured me that I was "much handsomer" ...she sure did.

Seriously, the only times I can remember ever getting upset with her growing up were when she had the audacity of being too caring: Getting worried sick and breaking down crying because I didn't arrive home at the time I said I would and I haven't called in hours to tell you where I am? Don't be ridiculous, Mom! Forcing me to send a 'thank you' note to every single person who was generous enough to give me a birthday/graduation gift? Aww, c'mon! That'll take forever! ...You say you feel bad for the opposing pitcher because he's giving up so many runs? Ok, Mom, that's just retarded! ...Yep, this is about as bad as it got for me as a kid.

Whenever my heart gets broken, whenever I'm having trouble with my P.O.S. car (and trust me I've had a lot), and whenever being a poor actor has me down in the dumps, Mom's always the first person I call for words of advice and encouragement.. and she always knows exactly what to say to make things, no matter how lame they might be, seem like they're going to be okay. I could go on ad nauseam about all the times my mom has gone above and beyond her motherly duties for my brother and me. For the sake of you, the reader, I will not, but I will say that words can't describe how greatful and lucky I am to have the greatest mom a guy could ever ask for. And if you know her too, then you know exactly what I'm talking about.

...it's a wonder a woman like this gave birth to such a jackass :)

Happy Mothers' Day, Mom. I love you.

<3Dylan John

The Ten Commandments of Bowieism

I. I, will be King, and you, you will be Queen

II. Thou shalt put on thy red shoes and dance the blues

III. Thou Shalt turn and face the strange ch-ch-changes

IV. Thou Shalt take thy protein pills and put thy helmet on

V. Thou Shalt get me to the church on time

VI. Thou Shalt not lean on me, man, 'cause you can't afford the ticket

VII. Thou Shalt not let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel

VIII. Thou Shalt let the children lose it

IX. Thou Shalt let the children use it

X. Thou Shalt let all the children boogie

Ziggy Stardust is our sexually promiscuous, sexually ambiguous prophet. He is our leper messiah - the all-seeing, all-knowing human embodiment of an alien lifeform, here to bring us a message of peace. love and rock n' roll in the last five years of our existence on this planet.

So begins the Ziggah, the Bowieist bible:

In the beginning, Ziggy played guitar...

Abbrev.

A dear friend recently mentioned that she thought my blog posts are too long. I had forgotten that most people (including myself at times) have short attention spans and that when writing texts there is around a 200-word limit, after which you start to lose people's interest in what you're saying. And true, I tend to be unnecessarily wordy when writing; a regular John Kerry of blogging, if you will.

Well as a wise man once said, "frankly, my dear, I dont give a damn." If I wanted to write to entertain the masses I would have majored in literature or journalism. But since I'm feeling compassionate and somewhat lazy on this Sunday afternoon, I will condense today's planned blog post to a microcosm of what it would have been, using as few words as possible. Enjoy...

What deal Padres? Start great, now no runs. Offense suck. Shit pitching. Roster full scrubs. Surprise surprise. Same song dance. Fan 25 years. Love team since baby. Qualcomm Petco second home. Endless suffering. Fans deserve better. Me not happy. When Charger season start?

Am I right?

**It just occurred to me whlie proof-reading this that that was a really long-winded way to open a post about abbreviating my writing. Hahaha...**

Emili-NO!

As a young(er) man, a few exceedingly kind people told me that I reminded them of my idol James Dean. Needless to say, this comparison was exceptionally flattering, albeit almost laughable in it's inaccuracy. However, at some point between 21 and the ripe-old age of 25 it appears something occured that significantly distorted my features - My guess would be the Chargers' heart-breaking, gut-wrenching, spirit-crushing 2007 playoff loss to the New England Patriots, which caused my jaw to unhinge and drop to the floor, my eyes to pop out of their sockets, and several veins in my forehead to bulge uncontrollably for a number of hours...

In any case, despite the fact those all-too-kind references to Dean's image have stopped in recent years, the celebrity comparisons have not ceased altogether. No no, now those parallels are drawn to a very different icon of the silver screen. While nowadays I rarely hear any more about the Rebel Without a Cause, fortunately I get enough Coach Bombay and Andrew Clark comparisons to fill this void. That's right, apparently I look just like this guy...

..Yep. I'm the spitting image of 1980's Emilio Estevez. Hoo-ray. **said in the most unenthusiastic tone possible**

Personally, I have never seen the resemblance, but others do. In fact, just this week I've gotten "You look just like Emilio Estevez in 'The Outsiders!'" and "...when I first started going to class, I was trying to remember your name and I told Thurman 'The guy who looks like Emilio Estevez, only young and not playing hockey.'" Since I guess there's no denying it any longer, I might as well embrace my Emilio-ness. So in the spirit of embracing it (and because I just love making lists), here are the...

Top 5 Things Emilio Estevez and I Have in Common (besides our unmistakable likeness):

1. I am an actor who currently makes no money acting; Emilio Estevez is an actor who currently makes no money acting.

2. Emilio Estevez is 5'5" tall; I was once 5'5" tall... when I was 12 years old.

3. Emilio Estevez's younger brother stars on the show Two and a Half Men every week on ABC; my younger brother smokes two and a half joints every day at UCSC.

4. Emilio Estevez has a mother named Janet who is credited as a producer for the movie Beverly Hills Brats; I have a friend named Janet who has probably never seen the movie Beverly Hills Brats.

5. Emilio Estevez worked with a crazy motherf*cker named Tom Cruise in the movie The Outsiders; I worked with a crazy motherf*cker named Stephen Baldwin in the movie To the Wall.

There ya have it - we're one in the same...

..."I was like, 'EMILIO!!!'"

DWBA: Driving While Being an Ass

In the near 8 months I've now spent in the darkest depths of hell...errrr...driving on the I-5, 405 and 101 freeways in Los Angeles, I've discovered a startling fact: exactly 66.6 % of the drivers in the City of Angels are complete ASSES.

Those guilty of DWBA, or "Driving While Being an ASS" (also known as "Driving Under the Influence of Idiocy") can generally be broken into two distinct categories: ASSHOLES and DUMBASSES. For your pleasure, I will now break down the characteristics of each of these groups - both of which elicit feelings of unspeakable rage from me on a daily basis, often prompting me to kick puppies and punch small children. And now...

The ASSHOLE

The ASSHOLE has one clear objective in mind: to get to his/her (usually his) destination as quickly as possible without paying any mind whatsoever to the safety and general well-being of others on the road. Likely behind the wheel of his luxury car or Sport Utility Vehicle, the ASSHOLE is easily identified by his eagerness to weave in and out of traffic (often without using his turn signal) as if it's actually going to get him to where he needs to be significantly faster. His preferred method of communication is blaring his horn as long as possible to express his displeasure at not getting to his destination quickly enough. He is also often found driving 25+ miles over the speed limit and tailgating you despite the fact that you're already going 80 and despite the fact he could easily just go around you if he wanted. But he doesn't; he is, of course, an asshole. Need to merge over to the right or left to exit or enter the freeway? Well tough shit! - the ASSHOLE isn't gonna let you. He's got places to be (pronto!) and he sure as hell isn't gonna let your ass get him there .00001 seconds later! The high level of frustration he causes others on the highway can only be surpassed by...

The DUMBASS

Oh, the poor poor dumbass; he/she (more commonly she) just doesn't know any better. Behind the wheel of her coupe she is oblivious and lost, plain and simple. You know that person who insists on entering the carpool lane and then proceeds to drive slower than traffic in the non-carpool lanes? This is the DUMBASS at work. Often she may also be spotted in your blind spot (if you could even see her there!), directly in front of you (after she cuts you off), or driving 4-6 miles down the freeway with her turn signal, unknowingly, on the entire time. But she is perhaps most recognizable when blocking traffic: Driving down a busy street DUMBASS sees a person getting ready to leave their parking spot along the side of the road, so she flips on her signal and makes the decision to take it. To her this is a seemingly harmless decision... except for the fact that, in doing so, she has parked herself right smack in the middle of a congested lane. DUMBASS has now created a line of two dozen pissed-off drivers behind her who are now forced to wait for her to make a feeble attempt at parallel parking (They would try to merge over to the left, but ASSHOLE won't let them!) ...Oh, and you know those "Do Not Block Intersection" signs? Well DUMBASS simply cannot see and/or comprehend these.

So there you have it - the reason why I dread pulling out of my parking garage in Burbank every day. Should you ever have the misfortune of having to make the trek to L.A. in a motor vehicle, never underestimate the callousness and stupidity of the ASSHOLE and the DUMBASS, respectively.

...And, in some (dangerous) rare cases - the DUMBASSHOLE!

What is "common courtesy?"

**DISCLAIMER** In the following I am not directly referring to anyone that I even remotely think would read this blog, so no worries, y'all! That's not how I roll. Also, I've tried to make my last several posts positive and upbeat after noticing that I was reverting to snide and smart-alecky a bit too often. However, recent events have made this post necessary (for my mental health) to write...

Well, for starters, it's showing up for something to which you have RSVP'd.

What a concept, huh? Making a committment to other people that you will be at a certain place at a certain time, and then actually following through with it! Sure, unforeseen events pop up from time to time that prevent you from being at said place at said time. Such events are inevitable - you had to work late, you had car trouble, you felt like you were coming down with something, you had to wash your hair, what have you... However, when such things occur the courteous human being contacts the person to whom they have made the committment to let them know why they will not be at the event they have pledged to attend; the thoughtless individual makes no such effort whatsoever.

Which helps segue nicely into my next point: wanna know how to make a good person feel like an asshole? Easy! Just ignore their attempts at communicating with you. Whether it's by phone call, text message, facebook message, snail mail or singing telegram, simply do not acknowledge that you received any of these things from the person you intend to make feel like an idiot...

(***Haha, oh boy. It should be noted that at this point in writing the post my cell phone buzzed, informing me that I had a message from the very individual who most inspired it. His/her explanation didn't exactly blow me away, but he/she did seem to show some genuine remorse and offered to make it up to me. I am more than willing to forgive and forget. Nonetheless, for the purpose of getting this grievance out of my system entirely, I will continue my rant...***)

...You'll leave them in an awkward state of total bewilderment, wondering "shit, did I do something wrong? ...was it something I said?" ...when, in reality, the only thing they actually did do wrong was making a genuine attempt to be friends with your inconsiderate ass.

I apologize for the bitter tone of this post, but carelessness in regard to the feelings of other human beings is very likely my biggest pet peeve in the world. I do not appreciate being made to feel like I'm an asshole because I know for a fact that I am not one. My mother taught me from a very young age what it means to be a thoughtful and considerate person, as I imagine most mothers did. And when I see this type of behavior amongst people that I really like and care about, needless to say, it troubles me greatly. Period.



......sooo how 'bout them Padres!?

The Ex- Factor

They say "a picture is worth a thousand words." I wonder how many words this one is worth...

There aren't too many things pertaining to myself that I'm overly "proud of", per se, but one of the things that I do take a certain amount of pride in can be found in this snapshot. The fact that I'm dancing with not one but two lovely ladies on my 25th birthday this past weekend? No... The fact that the lovely ladies with whom I'm dancing just happen to be the very two women in my life that I've dated for periods of two years and three months? Yes.

Indeed, I'm simply overjoyed that I've been able to maintain close friendships with both Raechyl (left, May '03-Sep. '05) and Lisa Marie (right, Mar. '06-Jun. '08). Far too often I see friends on bitter and nasty terms with their ex's, often on a 'non-speaking' status. Such is not the case with these girls and me. I think the great respect we still hold for each other is truly a statement of how much we respected each other when we were together, which is very likely why things ended so well in both cases. It is for precisely this reason that referring to them as "ex's" often makes me cringe; "good friends (who I once dated)" would be the preferred label.

It also says quite a bit about the character of both women. I mean, the fact that they even showed up for their ex-boyfriend's birthday is pretty cool. That they then went out of their way to be cordial and make friends with each other is downright awesome. And the fact that they then proceeded to throw any potential awkwardness out the window and sandwich him on the dancefloor for fun is beyond-words amazing. It isn't difficult to see that these are two remarkable and exceptionally mature people who I'm very lucky to have in my life.

Several people in attendance got a good laugh out of this, and rightfully so - it sure ain't something you see every day, right? But, fortunately, in my case it is something I see every day: for the past 14+ years I've been blessed to have a mother, father and stepfather who have the utmost respect for one another and have continuously shown nothing but kindness to each other for the greater part of my life. This is likely the reason I don't find the superb state of my relationships with Raechyl and Lisa Marie particularly strange.

In essence, retaining past loves as best friends is indeed possible and I am very pleased to be a case in point... So how many words was that?

In other news, I find the inability of some people I consider friends to demonstrate the slightest ounce of common courtesy at times absolutely baffling. But that is a different topic for a different blog post, I suppose...

That thing

Ever gotten a gift from someone that said everything? Something that was just so unmistakably you that you knew the person who gave it to you truly knew you and appreciated you better than just about anyone? I'm not necessarily talking about a diamond necklace or a Rolex watch (things anyone would enjoy), but more likely some little trinket that might cost next to nothing, yet is something you absolutely love or represents something you absolutely love; a gift so appropriate and special that, when thinking about the remarkable thought put into giving it to you, it almost brings you to tears. Only once do I recall having received such a gift.

Don't get me wrong, I've been given some incredibly generous and thoughtful things from friends and family over the years on birthdays, Christmases, graduations etc... for which I am very grateful; everything from iPod's to GPS's to nifty cell phones to primo Padres' seats. (It also must be noted that I'm not even a fan of receiving gifts in the first place; they often make me feel awkward and I much prefer giving them.) But in recent memory, only once do I remember being given that one thing that was so astonishingly mindful and showed such a thorough understaning of me as a person that it knocked me off my feet.

It was from my great-uncle Donnie in St. Louis and he sent it to me for my college graduation. He is an actor himself, he has performed onstage and on-screen and taught acting for several decades, and was kind enough to send me his copy of Shakespeare's Complete Works from the 1940's. His notes from years long passed still scribbled inside, he had held it dear since being a young actor in the USO in the Pacific during World War II. There he befriended another young actor named Raymond Burr, who later earned fame and fortune as television's Perry Mason.

When you open the cover of my great-uncle's Complete Works, on the first page it reads,

To Don
Happy Birthday
Raymond Burr

It was a gift given to him from his would-be famous actor friend. He read it and cherished it for over sixty years, then he gave it to me because he knew how much I would appreciate it. And it is truly invaluable to me. The book itself looks like a Bible, and it has been my Bible ever since having received it.

With my birthday fast approacing, I've been wondering if there exists anything that could potentially have as profound an impact on me as Great-Uncle Donnie's gift. I've discovered that there is at least one thing that would. It's something that encapsulates several of the things I'm most passionate about and is something I've desperately wanted for quite a long time but have never gotten. What is it? It's nothing more than a movie... but a splendiferous one! Which one, you ask?

Well, if you insist...