O HAI

Party People,

I don't even know where to begin.

I made a movie with some friends in rural Maryland. Weird.

I live in New York now. That's weird.

I'm living in an apartment by myself for the first time. (Roman Polanski's apartment trilogy runs through my mind a lot. Still weird. ANYWAY.)

For those who missed the social networking thunderstorm that was happening during production, we still have the Facebook page up, the production blog's still up, and we have a YouTube channel page thing. So eat it all up, as much as you can fit down your gullet.

Afterward, I drove up to New York from South Florida with one of my very bestest friends, Jess. She's wonderful. We lived in the dorms freshman year and we've been having sporadic adventures ever since. I'm hoping all the footage I got from the trip comes in handy soon. Unfortunately, the camera got a huge crack in it, so it's only for experimentals now. Shame.

Now, I'm in a kind of free-fall. I'm still waiting for freelance work to pick up, I'm applying to jobs left and right for copy editing or proofreading to pass the time. I've started reviewing music and media for Ink 19 again, and also signed up to be a volunteer for The Moth and for a documentary film festival, both happening in November. And next weekend I'll be heading to D.C. for the what-have-you. For ~$86, how could I say no?

What's next? Holidays with friends and other people's families! Bromance! More movies to be made! A wedding! Me turning a quarter-of-a-century old! Making my apartment a home! Crocheted beanies! Reading! Hugs!

I've missed you. I miss you all the time.

You'll need to know these guys

It has come to my attention that you may not be privy to the great becoming.

Here are three dudes you need to know about, 'cause they about to BLOW UP.

1. Andrew W. Jones
Yes, it's true. He's on fire. Frank DanCoolo: Paranormal Drug Dealer is chugging along on the festival circuit and is now available for purchase on IndieFlix. Now, Mista Jones is raising the bar with a musical called Doctor Glamour. I'm super excited and you should be, too.

2. Brett Ryan Bonowicz
Have you even SEEN the trailer for Comedian at the Friday? Come on. Get with the fuckin' program, ya big dummy. You're makin' us all look like fools out there. Get your copy like yesterday-ish, even though I don't think it's even done yet. WHATEVER. And Brett's got something new comin' up, you'll not want to miss it.

3. Chase Connor
This UCF graduate student is about to melt faces with his thesis film Less Lost. He's still on the look-out for donations, tax-deductible, 'cause that's how he roll. I've made my donation and plan to make another one. Have you?

Why am I telling you about these people? Because they're personal friends of mine, and if you're a personal friend of mine, you're pretty much made of angel wings and the laughter of children. You're golden. I also believe in the talent of these fine bitches and plan to invest in their futures, whether it be through my time and effort or through that shit I usually buy food with. And so should you.

Personally, I would much rather wear jeans that don't fit perfectly and eat Ramen with ketchup for a couple of days, if that means I can help my friends' creativity come to fruition. We're in this shit together, my friends. Suck it. Let's hug it out.

I'm movin' to New York. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?

August 27 -- the last day at my job.

August 28-31 -- looking at apartments in New York.

September 2-25 -- working on my first feature film in which I am not an extra, but actually the lead. Weird.

September 27-October 1 -- one-way road trip to New York with Grose, hopefully stopping in and visiting some other fabulous and beautiful people on the way.

I have my monologue about how I came to this decision, but I won't bore you with it.

Oral surgery -- pretty much

Goo. I had some minor oral surgery last week and I've been whining about it ever since. Basically that tissue that connects my bottom lip to my gums was too short, so they fixed it. However, I hadn't anticipated that I wouldn't be able to eat anything but soups and oatmeal, and swishing with the same prescription-strength mouthwash that people with gingivitis use. Awesome.

I've also been unable to smile correctly, therefore rendering me equally as helpless when laughing. I just hold my chin and lips, hoping I don't pop the stitches.

Those feet disgust me

I will say this once and I will never say it again: When I see feet in the dashboard of a car, I feel nauseated. I don't have an anti-foot fetish, but the way the toes poke out from the windshield of a car makes me want to throw up in my own hand and then throw it at strangers.

I hate melon/summer.

I don't like melons. Watermelons, cantaloupes, honeydew -- no, thanks. I always associate melons with summer, something I also detest. So when I'm forced to eat the pulpy, syrupy bullshit imprisoned in its deceptive rind, I can't help but imagine I'm eating fruit pulp infused with sweat. Melons are sweat fruit to me.

I hope this won't affect our relationship, because I treasure our friendship.

Enjoy your summer. I'll be crawling further into my fair-skinned-people cave. See you in the fall or the nearest patch of shade.

Flash mobs are my favorite

As much as I hate/despise/draw blood at the sight of "invisible theatre" or whatever you want to call it, I still love a flash mob. A flash mob is contained, brief, and doesn't really subject an innocent bystander to potential trauma; they just have to watch it or walk away. I mean, unless you call a group of people suddenly dancing to "Do Re Mi" in the Central Station of Antwerp traumatic. Then there's my all-time favorite. The Hammer Time Mob Dance:



For more of that related bullshit, check out Improv Everywhere's YouTube channel where they literally just fuck with people's days. Like "Best Gig Ever." They found a random band from out of town, grouped 30 to 40 members of Improv Everywhere, memorized the band's music, made homemade T-shirts with the band's name on it, conjured too much enthusiasm and tricked the band into thinking they actually knew who they were and gave a shit. After a year or two, the band got over it, but it kinda crushed their souls for quite a while.

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So, Friday begins the marathon traveling. This weekend I'll be bumming around Manhattan. That following Wednesday, it's off to London, to hopefully see The Black Atlantic, Keb Darge, and ride around in a paddle boat with Janine. I'm not going just for that, I'm just hittin' that G-spot of awesome coincidences, I guess. If you happen to be in either of these areas and would like a hug, a high-five, a beverage, or a culinary adventure, you know what's to doin'. Don't be shy. You guys are so shy.

Begin ignoring my texts, phone calls, and Facebook messages in 3 ... 2 ...