Left My Heart in Lockhart, TX....

This is Eric.
A week ago, I returned from Austin Texas. Smitty's Market cooks meat real good. Definitely one of the top ten places in the country to clog your arteries. The brisket was epic. P-Getz, Jorge, J-Blue and I ate next to cowboys. An amazing 23 hours in Texas. We went swimming at 5 in the morning in a condominium complex's pool. Also, epic. This Nightswimming was like the R.E.M. song, but with backflips, commando maneuvers, and um, pumpkin filled empanadas. Jorge is now an attorney. Great to see everyone. Drinks that arrive aflame were the norm.

Lost my voice, so sounded like Johnny Cash for two days last week. Bosses at the temp job are convinced I'm an intense party guy now. This past weekend has me convinced I am.

Last week was intense at the temp job. I like it, but it was pretty hectic.

This past weekend was amazing.
Friday Night: G-D said to keep the sabbath holy. I one-upped the Lord, and kept the sabbath rocking! Dinner was delicious. Then, I joined J Matty J and Dr. Smith for a JMattyJ Birthday Shindig. Lotsa goofy talk. Drove home at 2. Woke up at 7 to let in the workers to fix our ceiling (they found a beehive in the process, which made them happy 'cause it meant free honey). So it's Saturday, there are workers at the house. I go out for brunch with Alex, his brother +2. One of the 2 hails from Cincy, OH. I immediately imagine setting her up with The Amazing Rosenberg, but then get distracted by the magic of one helluva breakfast burrito. Most of the day, the workers are blocking my car in the driveway, which leads to a long walk to the library, where I pee and read Popular Mechanics (not at the same time). Walk over to the bank, deposit a check, and then as a pre-dinner snack, I go to a nearby taco shack (Casa Diaz on Hollywood) where I have a decent al pastor taco. I walk home, the workers are talking honey with alex. That night is awesome. 2 movies. And then a japanese after-hours place with Neighbor Mat, A-Hermz, and K-Shoef. We drop a passcode of sorts and go in. Lo and behold, we're allowed into the Koreatown version of the Mos Eisley Cantina. Gangsters, businessmen, and a cast of characters that look like they belong in this sort of place. We do not belong, but the service is friendly, and we drink sapporo, and eat edamame and shumai. So at

Sunday: 5 am, I get home. 11am wake-up call from Alex. We need a grill. People are coming for bbq. I wake up, drive over to home depot, pick up a 90 dollar Weber charcoal. (When I'm a big exec, I'll get a gas grill). In any case, Alex had tons of classmates over for meat and beer. 3pm-1am was how long it went. I drank too much, and ended up dancing to the awesome music. Some new M.C. Nuggets fans were born. Man, my street team keeps growing. I felt like a superstar, and fell asleep.

Monday Morning: I wake up, call H-Felds. We meet for brunch and car shopping. (She's just moved to L.A. We look at Jettas and Accords: The Accord with a V6 turns out to be pretty quick, 'though it doesn't stand out like, let's say, a purple Delorean would). If you're ever in Glendale, I recommend the Honda dealership. Our salesman was Gary and he's the kinda guy you should buy a car from. I endorse him. I also liked the Filipino Elvis impersonator who sells Hondas. (He laughs a lot and keeps repeating "Thank You Very Much" over and over. I still think the Elvis at Palms in Thai Town is my hero, but this Elvis was pretty great). Monday Night, me and the brothers chung went out for thai food at Ruen Pair. My fav so far of all Thai places I've tried. A sidenote: I walked into Sapp Coffee Shop with H-Felds (a C rating for cleanliness) and it smelled like urine inside; pretty intense and overwhelming. The C rating should be enough to stop me, but has anyone eaten here? Does it usually smell that way? It was pretty gross.

Back to work, Eric

JOB NUMBER DEUX

By the end of the summer, I hope to be employed by as many catering companies as possible. Over the weekend, I got hired by a pretty huge catering company based in downtown LA---the flagship restaurant is in the Disney Concert Hall---and I've got 3 gigs lined up this week already. It pays better than my 1st catering job and I get to wear what is the ugliest thing in the world: a beige polyster Nehru jacketw/ beige cloth buttons. It's really ugly guys really ugly like early 90s factory outlet Versace ugly.

Threw a small BBQ over the weekend. Eric and I had the darndest time deciding what kind of grill to get: gas or charcoal. Gas is great b/c there's little cleaning involved so you can grill anytime you want which is what I planned on doing this summer. The downside is that it's crazy expensive and generally ginormous and if you've seen our top balcony, it's more long than wide so a fat grill might be an awkward manuever. Charcoal is great b/c it's cheap and makes the food taste, I don't know, grillier. The downside: it's a bye-otch to clean up and as TJ and ELane and BJ found out over the weekend, it can also be pretty freaking dangerous especially if you've had more than your fill of drink. How dem eyebrows boys? So yeah we got the charcoal. Tasted great and the clean-up wasn't too bad actually so there's a good chance I'll be grilling often this summer, a huge ass fork in one hand and a dick and two balls in the other (that would be my own dick and two balls thank you very much!).

The BBQ got going @ 3 and I thought it was gonna end like @ 8 after what I called the "watermelon slash grilled peaches course." But that was stupid of me to think that. Maybe Eric and I are good at hosting b/c the boozing kept going well into the night so much so that it should've turned into a sleepover but drink makes one foolish so many people ended driving home after a ridiculously specific and long conversation about Star Wars. I should've been maybe a little more forceful especially w/ my buddy KPalllllleg (brother can't pronounce his own last name!) but he made it home all right and didn't kill anyone on the way back. That's the thing about LA: everyone drives home like that and it is STUPID AS A MOTHERFUCKER. Next time people get drunk like that, I'm gonna titty-twist their asses into submission and make them stay the night. Besides, there's room for all of you lovely people at the Hotel Los Feliz. (well sort of)

LOVE
ALEX

BOWLING, i.e. SLOW MOTION BETTER THAN...NO! NO!

My brother knows more about contemporary music than anyone else I know and a few weeks ago, he sent me some music I requested (Mariah Carey, Ryan Adams, Common) and some he thought I'd like (Brendan Benson, Holletronix, Stephen Malkmus). Right now, I'm listening to "Live in Montreal," a DJ set by Diplo. Amazing stuff especially the opening transition from Ciara's "Oh" to YYY's "Maps." That Ciara song is ridiculously great. As is Mariah/Snoop's "Say Somethin' and "Common/Kanye's "The Food."
Anyway, I picked him up from the Burbank airport this morning and on the way back to the Hotel, we put in the new Hold Steady record. Uh, what's the hype about? Gosh. Snore. Anyway, glad he's here for the next few days.
Last night, I crashed a classmate's birthday party. That's right: CRASHED. I've known the birthday girl for some time and some would think us friends (as would I) but apparently, WE ARE NOT! She left me off the Evite "accidentally." I've learned one thing about Argentinians: they smell. Anyway. We had it out last night---she let me punch her shoulder and I let her punch my shoulder, a backsie from the time last semester when I forgot to invite her to a pho lunch---and everything is good between us again though my opinion of Argentinians and pretty much South Americans in general remains unchanged. Anyway. A bowling party. I hadn't bowled since 2001 Seoul Korea. Matt, Eric, and I went to this fantastic Thai restaurant right before where I of course overate and felt really gross when I got to Shatto 39 Lanes. I don't know, but my belly's obnoxious: fucker just gets in the way! A good number of kids showed and after a 30 minute wait---it must've been Filipino League Night---we got a couple of lanes. Matt came with but was out of commission due to a certain muscular ailment we won't discuss here. The best part of bowling ain't the shoes, the striking of pins, or the boozy comraderie: it's the ball selection. Doubtless that's the truth. Racks upon racks of black and orange and red/black swirl balls there for the fingering and lifting. If you get the right ball, it's heaven; if not, you'll jam your thumb and not enjoy yourself as much as those individuals who chose prudently. The first game was fun but the second game, I got a little tired and bloated from all the beers and so my balance was all off and I tanked pretty badly.
Afterwards, a few of us hit up BJs for a beer then to Fred's for a late night dinner. Second night in row I ate after 2AM. Gotta stop that shit, especially when you're eating something called " Bearded Mr. Frenchy." It was tasty but I DON'T LIKE WHAT IT'S CALLED AT ALL. We finished @ 4 and by that time, I was crying b/c of all the yawning I was doin': I'm getting too old to stay out that late. Pathetic.

Today, the ostensible supers of our home came and threw up some sheetrock in Eric and my bathrooms. YES.

LOVE
ALEX

CATER/WAITER DEUX

Worked at Warner Brothers this afternoon. A lunch for international buyers, i.e. Euros and Yellows who check out what the TV division has to offer, pick what they like, and then make arrangements for distribution rights. BNasser worked the gig as well so time flew and I had more fun than I should've. I still need to use both hands when I run/bus ovals of plates, but I should be a one-handed stallion come Thursday. We joked, whined, made stupid faces across the banquet hall (like this one: :-) (I just learned how to make that face using the keys on my keyboard!)), and ate before we were supposed to. Entree: Chilean sea bass w/ a red curry sauce; steamed baby carrots; fried plaintains; coconut rice. Dessert: "Louis Vuitton" chocolate cake (Some chick actually said that to Brooke! What the hell does calling food "Louis Vuitton" mean exactly? Like Tom Wolfe, I know shit about shit today, but I've never heard food described as being "Louis Vuitton.")
Imagine:
Q.
A. That shit's Louis Vuitton yo!
Q.
A. Fucking Louis Vuitton! Louis Vuitton!
Q.
A. Like I said, shit's Louis Vuitton!
Q.
Q.
A. Whatever! Shit's Louis Vuitton! I'm through talking to you! Stupid!

I recognized a few faces from my first gig but I didn't say hi to them: I was too busy chatting it up w/ Brooke --- her table failed to show up so her crew basically stood for an hour and watched butter lettuce wilt --- and the people on my team (actors naturally). And of course, it finally happened: some screenwriter/actor guy wanted me to read his shit and collaborate! And no, it wasn't like "I've written a feature. I'd like you to check it out if you got time." It was more like, "So listen man, I've written A SHORT SCRIPT and money's tight you know but you know, that's life right? So you know, hit me up with your email dude?" I wanted to laugh. A SHORT SCRIPT? Who the hell pushes A SHORT SCRIPT? Come on, that's just silly. I might consider reading a feature, but no way will a total stranger get me to read A SHORT SCRIPT. Fuck, man, get with it! SHORT SCRIPT! I thought that was common sense in Tinseltown: shorts are for students and kids; features are for the big boys. If he's going around trying to collaborate on A SHORT SCRIPT, he's gonna be in for a world of hurt.

After the gig, Brooke and I played a grueling, at times downright nasty 3-set tennis match. There was a little shit talk (like literally, talk about shit), but not that much: we were both focused on kicking the other's ass. And you know what? I WHOOPED HER ASS!!! YEAH!!! I WHOOPED IT REAL GOOD!!! Joking aside, it felt great to beat on Brooke's ass.

LOVE
ALEX

MISSING

ERIC: One bathroom ceiling
ALEX: Third of a bathroom wall

Yesterday, we waved to each other through the gaping hole that now connects our restrooms. Sweet. The plumbers are drilling away as I write: hopefully the leak will have been fixed and the water turned back on so I can get my sweaty ass into the shower and cool off.

My first catering gig was an enormous affair: 650 plus guests outdoors in downtown LA. Very grueling but well worth the experience. Saw Annette Bening: WOW. An awards dinner for th LAPL. LA Society is a lot fruitier than NY Society. I served table 63 which was the dandyboys table. They were pleasant but I kept interrupting their conversation and I don't think they appreciated that too much but what was I supposed to do, reach over their heads to pull the B&B plates from off the table? Don't think so.

The house is mad hot upstairs and will be that way for the summer from about 11-4:30. Sweating but there's no water.

LOVE
ALEX

Tiles Today, Tejas Tomorrow

The Meteor From Upstairs: A True Story...
There'd been an intermittent leak from upstairs for a couple of weeks. Alex had called the landlords. Yesterday, I noticed the ceiling in my bathroom was lower in parts. (Not good). At 1am this morning, I wake up to a loud crash. Of course, I get excited that it's a meteorite and/or spaceship containing a super-baby from another planet who I will single-parently raise to be a nerdy journalist, with a penchant for costume changes in phone booths. I open the door to my bathroom, and take a look. There are pieces of the ceiling all over the floor. You would have been proud of me. I was brave and didn't cry. I turned off the light, climbed back into bed, and tried to get back into my dream (which involved the Mississippi splitting apart into a 1500 mile wide body of water; an ocean between East America and West America. In the dream, I was paid to ride motorcycles. That's about all I remember).
I woke up at 6, and snoozed to 7. Now I've got to put all the pieces of the ceiling in a garbage bag so I can shower and go to work. Pain in the ass. No time for Mousercise or Jazzercise or guided meditation via whale-song tapes this morning. It's time to pick up the ceiling.
The good news is: work is fun. The other good news is: tomorrow morning I'm flying to Austin, where I'll spend 24 hours with J-Blue, P-Getz, and Jorge. A recipe for ridiculousness if I ever saw one. Can't fucking wait. -Eric

A last hurrah for the supergeeks...

Eric writes:
Dinner with M-Smith and JMattyJ at Terried on Santa Monica tonight. I was, as is the norm, too cowardly to try the chicken heart yakitori. Those guys had me laughing really hard. I was sort of tired and out-of-it, but it was good to see them. We went on a fun walk afterwards. The drive home took awhile. So much traffic on sunset. Why? 'Cause Star Wars folks are all over the Arclight, and the media was there to capture the silliness, There was even a little shitty car parked out front with an R2D2 built into the trunk. Lots of brown cloaks and lightsabers throughout Hollywood (and I'm guessing the world) tonight. There's a line at the theater by my house (which doesn't pre-sell tix) that's got plenty of pale guys who've put away childish things for the night to make room for The PG-13'd Star Wars 3 : Better than the Last 2, Not as good as the Next 3, or whatever the title is. I don't like calling Episode 4, Episode 4. I prefer just to call it "Star Wars"...
I stop at the grocery store to get shampoo. Who walks into the supermarket? 4 Jedi's, obviously getting snacks before heading back to their place in line outside the Vista. People should dress up as Jedi's regularly.
Once home, I went into my bathroom to put away the shampoo and surprise! The ceiling is falling apart. Not amused. There's been a light drip for a week or so sometimes, but something obviously happened in the bathroom 'cause my ceiling is caving in. Hopefully they can come fix it tomorrow.
Work is going well. Boss asked me today if they had a job for me, would I stay? I told him yes.
Haven't seen "Sith" yet, but full-on ready to get my force on, Eric

FINAL INTERVIEW

Last night went to my very 1st Dodgers game w/ ARoss and Mo. Sat in the 6 dollar bleachers. A surprising number of fans got tossed despite a no-alcohol policy. Fucking gang members. That's a joke. Sort of. Anyway, D-Train vs. D-Lowe: marquee matchup. It was a beautiful night for baseball but as ARoss said later in the evening, "Dude, this is LA. Every night's a beautiful night for baseball." Indeed. And the 4 dollar Dodger Dogs are pretty tasty. I had heard about the ill shit that goes down when Gagne enters the game, but boy was I not prepared for the ridiculousness that ensued. Must be seen to be believed. I'm no Dodgers fan but it was pretty electric when Gagne took the mound for an inning of non-relief opportunity work. Hadn't seen ARoss in a week or two b/c he's been mad busy w/ rehearsals as OKGO goes back on tour next week. They roll into LA June 11th and apparently the venue is huge so that should be very exciting stuff.

Tonight I have my 3-hour final review w/ the catering agency. I've gotta bring some clothes on hangers to show them what I got. Hmm...should I wow them w/ my Hedi Slimane skinnny pants or the more conservative Jil Sander pair? Or should I just go for the homerun and bring a pair of black 501s circa 1997? This whole thing is still very funny to me. My partner in crime---BNass---called this afternoon trying to back out of it with some LAMEASS EXCUSE (e.g. I don't want to buy a cumerbund! (sp most definitely)) but I guilted her into coming. Yeah bye-otch! (Brooke I hope you read this and shit your panties b/c I know how much you love the word panties...and shit)


LOVE
ALEX

CATER/WAITER

It's been a whirlwind past couple of weeks and my body just said hey no more. But after a great weekend w/ K & K and a fourth and I hope final go around with trying to kick the habit, I'm close to being my old self. Yesterday, BNass, KPalle, and I went in to a cater/waiter staffing agency for a group interview w/ about 25 other folks, most of whom were surprisingly old. We three sat together in the back and tried to fill out the application and examination without totally shittin' our drawers.
Q. What is a chaffing dish?
Q. What is a 200 tray?
Q. Do you place an entry to the left or right of the patron?
We didn't the know answers to, I'd say, 90% of the non-alcohol-identification questions. We all filled the test in the same way but not like the test results mattered because when we went in for one-on-one interviews, the interviewer took one look at us, saw that we weren't bums, and invited us back Wednesday for another round. Apparently this agency caters a lot of studio parties and film premieres etc. so my hope for this blog this summer is that it turns into a gossipy-overheard-in-LA rag.
I thought about other jobs I might want to get over the summer, nothing appealed to me as much as cater/waitering did. The pay's ok and the hours are flexible which should allow me plenty of time to finish hopefully 2 scripts: one personal one and one all-time-best horror one. Also, as I told them and WInnesVII afterwards at El Coyote where we except KPalle (POUSSEZ!) got loaded on very tasty margaritas, a big part of the cater/waitering thing for me is to see how the other side lives, to see if that's something I want to have for myself down the line.
LOVE
ALEX
P.S. Actually after KOI last Friday, we went to the Parlour Club where our hands were stamped by a dwarf and the music DJ'd by Vaginal Davis, an ENORMOUS BLACK DRAGQUEEN. Smog Cutter---Sunshine slapped my ass for no apparent reason---was Saturday night after a terribly wonderful and lusty evening at the Hollywood Forever cemetery.

KOI

Eric writes:
Friday.
Koi was fun on Friday night.
The celeb spotting was out of control.
We saw:
Tom Hanks
Tom Ford (and Domenico/Dominique De Sole? - google couldn't help with this one)
Tricky
a mustachioed David Spade
Usher
Ben Kingsley
Paul Anka
and um, some football player (a huge sports fan I am not, unless it involves teams of 3 soccer players affixed to a stick I spin)

You see celebrities in L.A. all the time, but there's something funny about seeing them at Koi, a decent restaurant (sushi on toasted rice, albacore with crispy onions, various Nobu ripoff dishes, all pretty good) chock full of people who wish they were celebrities. Why actual celebrities go to Koi is beyond me. Then, there's a lot about Los Angeles I don't understand (Why are there so many donut shops? Why don't people use turn signals in this town? Why at restaurants are you asked if you've been there before and if not, comforted by your server that they'll walk you through the menu? (It's a menu. If I don't know what something is, I'll either ask or I won't order it(I don't know why I'm bitter about this and also don't know why I'm tempted to in response, ask questions like "What is tomato?"))) In any case, Koi remains the sort of restaurant that represents L.A. at its most silly, pathetic and wonderful; an issue of US Weekly come to life. Out by the valet (Valet Parking Attendants at Koi stole 40 bucks from Alex's car, by the way. Next time we're parking on the street. Less terrible but related: One time, I had all the quarters stolen from my center console at a restaurant I like too much to mention. In any case, the criminal masterminds were nice enough to fill the console with pennies and nickels, which unfortunately don't go as far in a meter.)... As I was saying, Out by the valet, there was a group of women who were pretty much Plastic Surgery On Parade. But the paparazzi were more interested in getting photos of Ben Kingsley with some younger lady. Gandhi didn't seem to like this and retreated back into the kingdom of Koi. Paul Anka drives an black E55. And he's mega-tan. And while I'm still blah-blahing about Koi: In the men's room, Alex stood next to Usher. Apparently, no friendly urinal banter.

In any case, the night moved on to the Smog Cutter. I'm no karaoke superstar, but the performances we saw were weak. However, the beer was cheap, and I had a great time with K&J. Alex was the driver on Friday night, and as I had a few beers and was pretty tired, can't say I remember much except for some drunk guy messing up "Between a rock and a hard place" and turning it into a wacked-out jam that was a free-form explosion of grunts, moans, and nonsensical phrases.

The work week was over. And the weekend was off to a great start, Eric

P.S. Hopefully Alex can fill in the missing pieces...

ONCE AGAIN

A semester ends and lil' AJo gets sick! I thought I was over that. But no. I'm not. And it sucks.
As Eric mentioned, Mo's film played really well Sunday night at the screenings. I'm really happy for my partner: all that effort and sometimes tense collaboration paid off in the end.
The summer's almost here. I was supposed to go into Wolfgang Puck catering to apply for a summer cater/waiter job but like I said I'm sick today. I'll go in tomorrow hopefully. But first, I need to fabricate a resume that includes waiting/hosting experience.
Chicken soup: so salty.
Looking forward to Friday night though. Another NYC friend is coming for a visit and we're going to KOI. Last time Eric and I were there, we took Ellen and Molls who were also visiting from the East Coast. And if it's half as funny/ridiculous as it was then, we'll all be happy campers.
LOVE
ALEX

P.S. I'm awesome!

File that under "good ways to end a letter"

Eric here. The temp job on the studio lot will go on until Memorial Day, and possibly become permanent if my supervisors can arrange it. Which I'd like....

Things are well. H-Felds was in town last week. Another friend moving to L.A. Alex and I played good hosts. I knew H-Felds somewhat from the college days (yes, that's me turning 27 in August. Yikes!), but it was great to have her. Even without the greatness of her taking us for a day at Disneyland and a dinner at AOC, she was helluva guest.

Poker on Friday was good. Pizza in L.A., still not good.

Sunday I saw end of semester USC 508 projects. Alex produced one for Mo-T, which came out really well, and was one of the three audience favs. Ray, the star of the project, Show of Shows, was in attendance and looked to be having a rockin' time. I liked seeing how ambitious some of these projects were. In awe of the magic J-Innes created (with the crisp cinematographic stylings of R-Marsh) for his majestic musical on a hill. Beej and Chase weren't fooling around either. The music combined with their cuts made for some stellar storytelling. B-Nas shot/produced a film which looked great and told my kinda story, morality not being a constant and that being okay. Also made me scared of ever having to live on Hollywood Blvd. But I guess it's working for a whole bunch of Star Wars fans these days. D & TJ had a french new wave jarmushian little ditty that paid homage to Bresson in a comedy. I respect that. I liked a lot of what I saw, And although there were misfires, come on, movie making is tough. Hard to remember them all now. S-Hag, who I'd never met, made on that seemed like a D. Lynchian version of "Flowers In The Attic". The parents were pitch-perfect, and the girl actor in it kicked much ass. Every 508 director got to give a thank-you speech after their film. Some of these speeches went on too long, but there was no red light or orchestra to speed people up in their speeches. I'm a whiner. They should be able to thank their cast and crew but at points, it was ridiculous. I probably spent a good 45 minutes on Sunday just applauding. There were more films, but I'm pretty tired as it's 11:45 and I'm getting up at 6.

You know my name; Look up my number, Eric

Waiting For A Long Long Time, Waiting...

Eric writes:
Been negligent in posting on the blog. Temp job is going great. They're keeping me on for a few more weeks to see how it goes. Working on a studio lot is at times, pretty exciting. It's been an enjoyable couple of weeks. Going on some interviews this week, but hopefully the studio job will turn permanent as my 2 bosses right now are a pleasure to work with. -Eric

P.S. Be a good son or daughter and wish your mama a happy mother's day.

SORRY

Dear fans

I've got a friend in town so the posting will be light on my part and Eric's been working hard so you might hear less from him this week but worry not, we are still SINGLE.

LOVE
ALEX