Sitting here at work – things are totally dead. No one is here. My boss even inferred yesterday that I shouldn’t even show up. But I came in to check and send emails. Worked out this morning. I hate doing squats. They suck ass. But I did them none-the-less. Probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow morning. Wah. Coaching with my practice client went well. I’d read all my methodologies and models the past few days and then just threw it all away to focus on being there with the client. She showed up with an agenda ready to rock and roll. I got a big charge out of it. It’s fun when you make steps towards a different careerpath (winks to sister). Sinister re-boots tonight with episode one – we’ll see how much of it they remember. Hee hee. Just got off the phone with another web design client. The ultimate goal is to get $1,500-$2,000 a site and then spin fifty clients a year and then be done. We’ll see. This lady is doing a trade of her personal coaching services for her site – I met her at the ICF conference and she has been coaching since the beginning when it was still somewhere between consulting and therapy. She’s also already got another referral in the wings. This might be a way out y’all. Trying to get some incorporation papers through next week so after my surgery I can begin my major major big-time mega-ultra-uber-business idea. It’s so scary and nutty that it just might work. We’ll see. I want to build it up over six months – build a business plan – spin it and sell it. We’ll see how likely all of this is in the current economy. My focus is all over the place this morning. I think I got enough Sinister mix CDs burned for the whole cast. If not it’ll be first come first serve.
I just lost all respect for PETA: “Would you give your right arm to know why sharks attack? Could it be revenge?” (via Metafilter)
An MTV staffer observes the crowd. “You like Backstreet Boys,” he pronounces. “Now, why do you like Backstreet?”
“Hi, my name’s Michelle, I’m from South Carolina and I like Backstreet because I love their music and their new video rocks!” the teenager says on cue.
“Mmmm. No,” says the staffer, sighing heavily. “First of all, you forgot your ‘Woooo!’ You have to ‘Woooo!’ at the end of your shout-out. Don’t ever forget to ‘Woooo!’ Now, which Backstreet is your favorite?”
“Um … Nick!”
“How about Kevin? Can Kevin be your favorite?” Nick is so pass?.
Felt really down yesterday. I’ve been sleeping a lot lately. I’m thinking it might be from not breathing well due to the ragweed just blooming. I’m highly hooched up on Benadryl and ephedrine. I like the word hooch. I makes me giggle. Watched Hannibal last night. Beautifully done (of course, it’s Ridley) – but not remarkable at all. Pretty boring. The plot is almost as simple as Gladiator. The gore didn’t seem that awful. I was expecting much worse. And I watched both the endings on DVD and neither seemed to make much sense at all. The Verger character played by Gary Oldman was laughable, I thought – it reminded me of a Loony Toons voice – ‘yeeeah, ya see Mac? yeah…’. Cool touches with bringing back parts of the previous film – the DVD includes cut scenes such as Clarice going back to the dungeon prison from Silence of the Lambs. Wanted more suspense. Wanted more terror. Ah well…
Just got off the Metra train after going to see Sweeney Todd in concert at the Ravinia Festival. George Hearn, Patti LuPone and Neil Patrick Harris were in the cast. Sarah brought the munchies with two of her boi-friends. I got drunk before the show even started as we laid a blanket out and stuffed cookies and chips into our maws. The score for this show never ceases to blow me away. Such detail. And I have the score memorized – at one point Patti forgot her lines and I knew exactly where she was and what the lyrics were – or I noticed George Hearn start in to a vamp on a song a half a measure too early. And so operatic without relying on boring recitative. I have stolen much off this play and it’s original staging by Hal Prince. I even wrote a Sweeney Todd rip off in high school called Gehenna Boulevard… very sick stuff – I could play the score right now too – it’s all in my head.
My dinner with Alexander was cancelled – hopefully in two weeks. I met him when I worked in Corporate Finance – he is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. Everyone at ICF knew him and went nuts when I told them I worked with him for a year. He is in the same box as Rocco – someone that’s a total badass at what they do and they never show off – they just deliver. Two years ago we had the most mind-blowing lunch where basically he stared me down and said: ‘What do you want to do?’ and then ‘What’s the problem? Go do it.’ I just sat there giggling uncontrollably. Or yesterday when I was talking to Laurie about a potential revenue-producing project and she gave me the coaching smackdown when I gave excuses. ‘There are no excuses, Andy. That is unacceptable.’
Boxing this morning rocked. Jerome kicked my ass big time. I tried to focus on my third-eye (read below) with some of the hits but I was too distracted by footwork.
My goal is to get out of here by noon today. I think I can do it.
I have stuff I can do at home over the internet and the company I’m calling is in Cali anyways.
Forgot to record that at the ICF conference I learned that my SoulType is 7. This means I send and receive through my third-eye chakra. Dude. It explains why I sometimes lead with my forehead and relate to people with my face slightly tilted. I just thought I was naturally condescending. They had all these people wearing neutral colored loose clothes and they’d push against your hands and tell you to radiate from different parts of your body. Then the guru would confirm. He pushed on my hands and told me to focus with my third eye… I couldn’t be pushed over. “Now move your focus to your hips,” he said. I did. He pushed me right over. “Back to the third eye.” Again – immovable. Type 7’s are visionaries and are able to travel to different planes of though and possibility and have lots and lots and lots of ideas and move too fast for others… it does makes sense. When I’m directing or doing things – I always thought that I was just processing things aurally because I bow my head a little – but perhaps I am sensing and shaping through my third eye. Same with piano. And it goes with my whole-body sensing of rhythm – especially with dialogue. It’s like – if a piece of flat dialogue is spoken it reverberates in my bones – a totally intuitive response. Like last night, I had to rewrite the ending of a scene and I was still holding on to wanting to choke the shit out of the actor that was blowing off the final dress. I went and got a little dinner and came back and had the answer as soon as I walked in the door.
I’m gonna try and publish this using wapblogger.
Latest news is they might instituting a dress code at work. Now that’s a really good fucking idea. Not sure exactly what is supposed to happen – I don’t think a dress code is going to get back our 2.2 (buh-buh-buh) billion loss this year. That and they deployed the employee survey on line and the servers crashed (no one thought of staggered deployment??) and one lady unknowingly emailed the CEO of the company for tech support. Duh. Spent the morning wrestling with MS Access reports.
I get to rewrite a scene of the show tonight because an actor can’t make the tech rehearsal. WHAT?! Final tech and you can’t be there. I have to excise the scene with gunfire because we won’t be able to rehearse the scene and I’m not about to have un-rehearsed live gunplay onstage. That’s just asking for it. This actor is doing his best to make sure I never hire him again.
So very sleepy. Just ate half a can of honey roasted peanuts – I needed something sweet to get me through. Almost time for another chicken sandwich. YEAH!
The coaching conference rocked my little world. I have my first practice client – one of my actresses in the show – I’ve known Nicole for a while but don’t know too much about her personally to crowd a coaching experience. So I’m going to work with her for three months, for free, once a week in creating the life she wants. Also going to try and get four internal clients here at work. We’ll see.
from the Chicago Reader:
SINISTER, Baum House, at the Athenaeum Theatre. Tapping into the compulsion that weekly drew millions to Melrose Place, Andrew O’Brien has created a serial drama with intertwining plotlines, tortured characters, and a good dose of suspense. Story number one features lesbian couple Amy and Rachael (Sarah Morello and Nicole Bond), who are experiencing obvious relationship strain. PMS? Seems like it. But as it turns out Rachael’s nerves are frayed because she’s being stalked. By whom? Find out next week! The second story revolves around TV Boy (Sean Sweeney), who was abandoned in an electronics store as a child; his only emotional connection is to the television screen. His fate too is uncertain: doctors want to save him while evil scientists see him as the ultimate lab rat. As last week’s lights went down, TV Boy was kissing his nurse–who’s a spy for the scientists! Stay tuned! ? O’Brien, who created the 1999 Baum House serial (Kill the Haviland Ladder), clearly has a handle on the episodic format. But he might take a cue from the Melrose writers and add a bit more action (the stalking thread was seriously underplayed). After all, an adrenaline roller coaster is part of the hook. The show has a lively pace, however, and a diverse, competent cast. Starting at 9:30 and running just 40 minutes, this makes a tasty after-dinner treat. –Kim Wilson
Kevin Elizabeth called screaming into the phone she was so excited. I’d forgotten the review came out! She was yelling through the phone so loud that I could barely make out the consonants. Funny that no one else has called. Kevin is just sure I’m the toast of Chicago.
I’ve been making my sister some Lords of Acid compilation CDs – one is called ‘Pound’ and has all of their fast songs, or at least my top 20 favorites and then the second one is called ‘Undulate’ and has the slower sexier music on it.
Started planning the diet – and trying to eat 150 grams of protein a day is a fuck-load of chicken. That’s all I gotta say.