Just Applied: Production Assistant position for a new E! Style Channel Reality TV series.
Just Applied: 1. Submitted photo for hip, edgy, cool types between ages of 18-25 for Red Bull Commercial. 2. Sent in resume for a P.A. position at a community basketball event in Venice. Pays $75 bucks a day and sponsor gear like shoes, t-shirt, maybe more.
Currently Listening: “Fade Into You” – Mazzy Star
I’ve been working out like a maniac because I’ve found myself a workout buddy. It’s so much more fun when you can let all the inside voices out to someone while sweating up a storm. Today I ventured into a place I’ve never been before due to the persuasion of my new workout buddy. A place usually reserved for testosterone-oozing grunters…yep, the free weights area. You know, the area with the benches and lots of heavy weights in front of the mirrors with lots of big boys flexing in them. It was funny. Antithesis. Hyperbole. Metaphor. Oxymoron. Irony. Weird-case scenario.
I got another letter from UCLA today. They have extended an invitation for enrollment into their one year professional program in screenwriting because they had “the unhappy task of turning away many uniquely talented and extremely capable writers they held in high regard” from the graduate program. Somebody wants to clean their conscience or ward off the vexing spell I put on them. I can either go to the night classes on campus or complete the course online. It’s a non-degree certificate program. Instruction would begin September 29, 2003 and tuition is $3950. I would be done in the Spring and then I would move to New York to start Syracuse in June 2004. I would be a professional student forever.
It was something I was thinking of doing when I first got myself into this mess of returning to school. I thought that screenwriting was one of those majors that wasn’t applicable in the traditional school of thought. And I had actually contemplated applying to this particular professional program but pictures of over-the-hillers, part-time student full-time mommers, and banker-by-day-writer-by-nighters danced in my head. I wanted the college experience. Since I never really had one. And then after filing the applications I realized that even a degree in screenwriting wasn’t going to guarantee a great script and/or career. Then the practicality in me was screaming aloud in the form of my mother’s voice. Ta-dah…journalism…all the consonants and vowels, semi-colons and exclamation marks, diction and charcterization a girl could ever want with the prestige that my parents would be ecstatic over. Somehow journalist conjures up images of intelligence, honor, Connie Chung. And Connie Chung equates stability, power, and money. Whereas, screenwriter conjures up bohemian, poor, starving artist with only dreams to feed her hungry soul. And that doesn’t win bragging rights by any means. Dreams don’t pay bills dear, I can hear my mother say. So, now maybe I can have the best of both worlds.
Currently Listening: “Such Great Heights” – The Postal Service.
The other day I started my novel. I realized how much I really loved to write and how much I wanted to be a writer. All I needed to do was write, right? Cuz a writer writes. So, I wrote. Thus began Chapter 1.
Currently Listening: “Sunday on the Westside” – The Pushkings.