I was once on a reality show.
I know. Nowadays that’s not so unique.
You actually have to crawl into a cave and live there for the rest of your life in order to avoid being filmed by reality show cameras. Except someone might tip a Hollywood producer about the person who moved into a cave to avoid reality show cameras, and they’ll want to document your life story.
Even in a relatively small city like Austin, it’s tough not to happen upon a reality show taping.
My reality show, which I will neither tell you the name of nor will it ever see the light of day ever again, was an interesting learning experience.
It taught me that reality shows are made up — even the ones you don’t think are made up (I’m a slow learner). It also taught me that I will never want to be on a reality show ever again. Not only is it a huge invasion of privacy, but you have such little control over how you are perceived.
The reality show I was on? I didn’t really have any say in whether or
Some of you guys might be familiar with this story for I’ve broached the topic of me being friends with an acquitted murderer/b-list actor before. If you’re not familiar with it, check out my story over at CultureMap. Murder, sex and purple pearl snap shirts. Such a wonderful children’s story for the Holidays.
Being Friends With An Acquitted Murderer (and B-List Actor) Is Not Easy
12.16.11 | 12:05 pm
I was once friends with an acquitted murderer-slash-B-list actor.
He was a sad man, but I guess that shouldn’t be surprising. The sort of man who spent Thanksgiving alone, eating a grocery store rotisserie chicken in the woods of Ojai, California.
The sort of man who owned nothing but a couch, a bed, a guitar and the photos of his long forgotten career taped to his wall.
The sort of man who has no friends.
The sort of man who lived like the characters he portrayed.
The sort of man where you couldn’t tell if he was acting in real life or not.
Over at CultureMap
, I wrote a story about my days in LA. Some of you who have hung in there with me might already know this story. Occasionally I get nostalgic and cry like a little bitch about ol’ Hollywood. Either way, I’m happy I left it…
True Hollywood Story: The Life and Death of a Tinsletown Assistant
12.10.11 | 01:00 pm
I used to work in Hollywood — as a personal assistant.
Sometimes it seems like a dream, my time there. A forgotten dream only triggered by a minor chord or someone else’s love letter to Los Angeles. By songs or films that I relate to but that are not my story. Sometimes I drift off in a cloud of romanticized musings of things I did not experience.
It’s much easier to recall your time in Hollywood like one would a movie, giving your story a narrative when in reality, while you were experiencing it, there was no voice guiding the way.
I meet a lot of young people in Austin who want to move to or are about to move to LA. My initial
On Sunday I was interviewed by the wonderful gang over at Beyond 6th.
Beyond 6th is a weekly love letter podcast to Austin. Hosts @EddieCantu @BriDraffen @JustinTArthur and @WadeofHonor interview
Watching Drive and writing that post today really got to me. The LA in Drive is the LA in so many movies and was the LA in my head when I lived there, though it’s not the LA that
11:34PM 10/10/11 I think?
I spoke with my father earlier this evening. Dad is a part-time actor and part-time chauffeur in Los Angeles (aren’t they all?). He works for a well-known car service
Working on a low-budget indie film is new to me. When I worked in Hollywood I worked for big people and therefore there was big money put into the films (in other words I worked on pieces of crap). Everything
|my first year in Hollywood
On my blog, I’ve only mentioned a few times that in a previous life I was a personal assistant in Hollywood.
And as I also stated in that post, I don’t
It’s easy to love Los Angeles. It’s sunny and warm and exciting and big.
What is hard, is loving the Hollywood you experienced. It’s so much more enjoyable to revel in the Hollywood from movies,
The style of an assistant- bags under the eyes, frizzy hair, bewildered look on face
There is a time in my life that I rarely discuss on my blog, yet it constituted a significant part of my story. It was the five years I was a personal assistant in Hollywood. I don’t talk about this chapter for a few reasons- 1.) I respect the privacy of my former employers 2.) I consider my former employers friends 3.) I signed confidentiality agreements that would threaten the soul of my first born. Truthfully, the first two are more important to me then the latter. Though there are a lot of fun and crazy stories I’m itching to tell, I would never share them on a public forum.
Last evening I watched the film I was first told to watch when I moved to LA in 2004. That movie is Swimming with Sharks. This indie gem chronicles the complicated relationship between straight-off-the-bus assistant Guy (Frank Whaley) and his heartless, demonic producer boss Buddy (Kevin Spacey). After a year of enduring