How nice it was to visit the schlickbernds today. It felt like a tutors visit to an victorian family, except everyone was laughing and having a good time. I felt very welcome and present in the moment.

I am, however, in a bit of a panic now about jobs. I wake up and realize I havent taught in half a year. I have spent that time writing, and too slowly. Life can go by so quickly if you let it. I must stand more firmly on my own feet.

Very glad to be getting the Ivan/Calvin project off the ground.
We had over four hundred and fifty people apply to audition for Ivan. Insane!

I fear I am getting nothing done with my life. I am in a holding pattern. Why am I not applying to grad school, or finding a career, or working as a production assistant? Where the hell is my progress?

Finished!

Yes! Finally finished the last scene of the first draft. Now that the story work is done, I can go back and finish a lot of the clean-up... but later, and with fresh eyes. Beyond just general housekeeping (making sure the blocking, etc. looks professional) I need to work on Tracy's voice. My god it's hard to write Tracy.

Tracy is a racist minefield.

Between then and now I am developing the pilot and getting a job. And then Sarah comes in August to write our Big Bang Theory.

Pops issue

I was poised to write today, but bad news this morning about my grandpa derailed me. He had a stroke at 8 am and this is it. I can't feel it out properly. I think my brain is trying to ignore it, but I think this a trap a lot of men fall into to. It boils beneath the surface, and I am testy with everyone until I told them what happened. He's 92, and he seems ready to go, but it's still my mother's father and he's still a real person who's dying. I say it's ok, but I know I will still be scared shitless to die when I am 92. I want to tell him I'm gay before he goes... he's the only person I never told, and I think that's when the divide between us started.

I have one scene left to write before my first draft is completed, and then I can revise, or start another project and revise later, or, you know. Get a job.

Blog Re-brand

Previously unmentioned in this blog: I've moved to LA. That happened about 8 months ago. Sometimes I am very happy here. The people are good looking I guess. It might be turning me anorexic.

I read over my old journal earlier today and maybe it was the thickness of my shirt, or the dramatic effect of my shave, but I feel more relaxed now. It's possible that previously I wasn't here as myself, or even in Chicago... facing all that stuff and recognizing how emotionally wild I was, and incorporating that into my current narrative, puts me at peace. A common story back then was for me to get obsessed with someone who was within reach and fed me a bone now and then, but was otherwise emotionally unavailable. I mean I would be in LOVE, and then I would concoct minischeme after minischeme and write it all down. Ironically, if any of them had worked, I would no longer be interested. They were a tad dumb. That's hard to admit.

Today I feel that with my focus on my career and the rapid maturing of my friends, my life has become rather dry. My old livejournal would have comments from a circle of friends out the wazzu. Gina, Kyle, Sarah, Eli, Rachel, and Amy... all these people have moved on, moved to another state, or become an orthodox jew. Now it's just Mats, and he and I are very different people. I've made some new friends here, but it's hard to compare to them to the old time crew. I think I can make friends easily, but no one can speed up time to make these relationships deep!

However, outside of this stated goal (expand my social life) my focus for this journal will be as a work progress blog, with maybe a splash of color now and then. I'm going to simply record what I worked on that day, to keep myself accountable... much like what a manager would do to their employee.

Right now my 30 rock spec is two scenes away from being "complete." Some jokes are missing in some spots, and this is noted, but I'm completely intent on going back after the completion of this first draft to redo a lot of the dialogue and scene descriptions, especially to make the character's voices more true to themselves. A particular focus is Liz, who was surprisingly difficult.

Randy

Cody’s friend Randy will tell you that his longest and most recent boyfriend lasted three months. It’s an odd lie. Were this the complete story, he could advertise his fidelity, and a relationship that lasted eight months. An eternity in my mind, and well beyond my estimation of Randy.

We have some caveats that artificially expand the time frame.
A) Randy has never met his boyfriend. They have, however, spoken on the phone.
B) Randy met his boyfriend on myspace.

These alone are enough to explain Randy’s ability to hold this down—something of a mail-order long-term where real-life interaction can never get in the way. This is likely the utmost of what Randy is emotionally capable of. I know I’m treading the limits of your confidence in my empathy here. This isn’t an insult, a cruel thing I maliciously wish upon Randy. It is my honest and albeit unfortunate estimation.

I’ve been stuck on how to phrase what happens next. How do I phrase, “Randy’s boyfriend faked a suicide to break up with him?” Should I note that the stress of ending an internet relationship was too great for this invisible man, so he invented a grieving sister and (a second bevy of) deep-rooted emotional problems? That Randy wasn’t convinced of a break up delivered via more traditional means?

He discovers another myspace profile, and the same pictures under another name. And chats with his dead boyfriend again that next week. You might lose, in the flurry of information, an observation of how Randy deals with this. Randy’s attitude is more than casual, less than cavalier: He acts as if these things should happen to him all the time. As if, “oh, men.” There’s no embarrassment about it. He does not delete the facebook posts that underline his grief. He is unconcerned with public image. There is both ignorance and innocence in him.