Living Like A Celebrity

Well, Kind of. I got to my destination after having dropped off my Lithuanian travelling companion at about 8 in the evening. It was an apartment I had been to just a few months before belonging to my friend Travis. It was located on Orange Dr. in Hollywood which is a stone's throw away from the Graumans Chinese Theater. Literally. If I really wanted to I could throw a stone and hit the theater.


Look at it... Doesn't it look so majestic?

This was really cool to me at first. I would think 'wow! I'm living right around the corner from where movie history is made!' but that quickly faded. After about the second movie premiere at that place I had had enough with it. I would literally have to walk 2 blocks to get around the damn premiere and the hundreds of screaming fans filling the sidewalks trying to get a picture of the back of Jessica Alba's head during the Valentines Day premiere. It was obnoxious to say the least but even that was better than what that area turns into on every other day of the year. Failed actors dressing up in costumes and accosting tourists to take pictures with them fill the streets. Spiderman is hanging from a light post while two Supermans argue over turf. Hip hop artists trying to "hustle" their CD will shove it in your face and then accuse of you "hating art" when you decline. It's a mad house. I would walk as quick as possible through that part of the strip and every time would feel like I was about to have a panic attack. I don't understand why people subject themselves to that.

"Hey kids, let's get a picture with the nice devil!"


So, I want to get one thing straight right away. I did not just go down to Hollywood to party like a rock star and go wild. I spent a good six hours a day trying to find a job. It's just that at the end of those six hours there was nothing else to do but party like a rock star. The group that Travis runs with are all very well-to-do people. Models, musicians, producers, professional online poker players... Basically they all had money and they all looked very good. Now don't think for a second that this makes them horrible people, because they are not horrible people. The majority of them were very nice. This one night Travis and I got invited out by his friend Chris to an exclusive fashion line launch party at a very upscale night club. We put on our best threads and headed out. Sure enough the velvet ropes parted and we were on our way inside of MI-6, a James Bond spy themed night club in West Hollywood. The music was loud, the lights were flashy and the cieling was mirrors. Mirrors everywhere.

MI-6 Hollywood


The bathroom had an attendant which ALWAYS confuses me. This is the third time this has happened to me and each time it ends awkwardly. I did my business and as I was finishing peeing I could feel this guy get up out of his seat. He was facing me. I could tell he was watching me and waiting patiently to perform his duty. It's weird when you think about it though. Do rich people like to have people watch them pee? Let alone pay someone to do it. I'm sure you could go on Craigslist personals and find somebody who'll do it for free! He most likely would not own a tux however. So I finish, I zip up and I start to head over to the sink which is covered in all sorts of little items for any occasion that might arise in a bathroom. Bowl of condoms? Check. Selection of fine colognes? Check. Assorted jewelry? Check. King size Reeses peanut butter cups? Ummm... check? I just can't imagine being in a situation where I was out at a bar with my friends and all of a sudden needing a diamond studded cross necklace and a Reeses, but oh well, if that's what they're into.

We had bottle service at this place all night. They brought a tray of mixers with a bucket of ice to go with our massive bottle of Grey Goose. I felt awkward at first but was feeling like I fit in well enough in my fancy clothes to partake in what they had to offer. The moment the bottle was gone a new one would magically show up out of nowhere. There were boxes in the middle of the dance floor that would light up all different colors. Every five minutes there seemed to be a new girl or group of girls up on those things shaking their butts and hootin and hollerin like they had just invented dancing. At one point in the night another guy from our group, Max, and myself decided it was the boys turn to hold the coveted light box spot. Max got up first followed by myself, and even though we had been warned by our friends not to, and that we would most likely get kicked out for trying to be the center of attention without the required amount of cleavage - even with all that, we danced like we were getting paid to and to our surprise, stayed up there for a while. We even got some of the girls involved in the fashion line to get up there with us. After that it lost it's edge and I jumped down.

This was one of my more recent celeb-style experiences but it wasn't the first. There had been a few nights where I had to stop for a moment and look at my surroundings. "I'm in a VIP room of the Roosevelt Hotel drinking martini's with famous musicians. How the hell did I end up here?" I don't consider myself a shallow person by any means and I'm confident that if you were to ask any of my really good friends they would back me up on that, but I must admit that nights like those were fun. Really fun. I couldn't do that constantly though. Next time I go back I'll be on my own schedule, my own time. As the great Governor of California once said "I'll be back."

YES. I FAILED.

I ran out money. I spent a month scouring that city for work and came up empty handed. Well, not completely. Some of the people I met down there were amazing and really tried to help me out. I made a ton of contacts and have a lot of good connections that I'm going to hopefully try and build upon over the next couple years for my triumphant return.

So Here is my plan as of now. I'm back in Olympia at my parents house. I'm applying to go to school in Seattle at Seattle Central and get my AS in video production. I'm hoping that with this Government stimulus money floating around I can make all you taxpayers pay for my education. The only thing with this is that it's a two year full time program so if I get accepted I won't be making my way back to Hollywood until around the time the Aztec's predicted the end of the world. I'm going to keep writing in this thing though so if you are one of the few that actually read this, keep checking up. I'll have some more good stories to post in the future. Like the time I accidently ventured into crack head central in downtown LA trying to find my car. Or the one about my Irish travelling companion I met in San Fran. I'm going to start using this thing to vent more I think.

But anyway, I guess now the question of "will he succeed?" can now be put towards my schooling. Will I be admitted even though I graduated high school with a 1.8 GPA? Will the government give me enough money to live and go to school? Who knows. We'll see. Stay tuned.

On to LA

I met up with my rideshare, Berta, at a bus station in Oakland. I was on the phone with her trying to figure out where she was but it was proving difficult as I have never seen her before. She had a very thick accent and at times was hard to understand the landmarks she was trying to describe to me. I finally parked and told her to just look for the white truck near the front of the lot. The moment she came around the corner I knew it was her. She was tall and slender with short brown hair that was shaved in some spots and left a little bit longer in others. She had a single braid behind her left ear. There were tiny black dots on each of her bottom eyelids and one on the top of her lip. She approached with a smile as I got out of the truck to help her put her enormous backpack into the back of my truck. We shook hands to formally greet each other and climbed in to start the long drive. Berta was a very fun road companion even though about two hours of it she spent sleeping. She was a photo journalist back in Lithuania and told me of jobs and stories she had covered and all the exotic places her work had taken her. I asked her what kind of music she liked and she said "I like...heavy music?" with a bit of uncertainty and followed that up with "But sometimes I like soft music" Heavy it is. The rest of the drive was pretty uneventful besides some good conversation. As we approached the Grapevine I told her it wasn't far now. It was dark now and once we peaked the hills you could start to see the vast amount of lights that start to make up the Los Angeles area.

"There it is." I said. We both sat silently for a moment looking at the sea of light. Not even an hour after I said that we were completely stopped in LA traffic. "Welcome to LA" I said, jokingly. We finally got off the freeway and I took her to her destination. I dropped her off and gave her a hug and thanked her for keeping me company and pitching in on gas. I'm really glad I got to meet her and hope to run into her again.

Luckily the place Berta was going was only 10 minutes away from my destination off of Hollywood Blvd. I was so tired of driving that I kicked it into overdrive and immediately could have competed in the National "LA Driver" competition. I eventually made it in one piece and called my friend Travis to let me into his buildings garage. I parked, grabbed some clothes and went upstairs where I laid on the couch that would eventually become my bed for the next long while.

Coming up next...

Living like a celebrity

Oakland

I arrived in Oakland mid afternoon the next day and met up with my friends Chelsea and Elyssa at Chelsea's apartment in Oakland where she lives with her boyfriend and my good friend Dion. Unfortunately Dion had to take a trip to the Bahamas the day I arrived so I didn't get to see him for the majority of the time I was there. We started out by going to Dion's place of work which is a fancy shmancy bar in San Francisco called The Heavenly Dog. We rode the BART back and forth from SF to Oakland which made me feel bad for Chelsea and Elyssa because at every turn they were hooted and hollered at by the various riff raff at each stop. It was pretty hilarious to me trying to picture Dion working in a place like this because he is the most un-fancy person I know. Everybody there was really nice though and was hooking us up with all sorts of crazy cocktails filled with booze I have never even heard of before. One particular type (I forget the name) is made by Buddhist Monks who have passed down the secret recipe for generations. It's so secret that no one single monk knows the entire recipe. Three chosen ones are selected to learn a third of the recipe so as to not leak this magical drink. It tasted like Ginger and Black licorice. We dined on $30 a plate meals and sipped our cocktails with our pinky's firmly extended.

After our time at The Dog I called my friend Kris who I've known for years back in Olympia, to see if he wanted to hang out. He accepted my request and asked us to come to some house party that was not too far from where we were at. We cabbed it over there and found a pretty raging birthday party going on for some girl. He walked us in and started introducing us to everybody. We went into the kitchen which was covered in chocolate and spilt beer. At one point the birthday girl put on Andrew W.K. on the stereo and cranked it to 11. A dance party erupted in the kitchen which probably wasnt the best idea because of the slick floor. Imagine 10-15 people drunk of their ass trying to bust a move on a freshly zambonied ice rink and that's what it looked like. Bodies were dropping left and right and yet no one seemed to slow down because of it. Over all it was a good time though and after the dance party ended, Chelsea, Elyssa and I cabbed it back to her place in Oakland.

The next day we went to a friend of Chelsea's restaurant which was also fancy as all hell where, again, we were treated to delectable cuisine and fine drinks. At this point I had decided to stay an extra day so that I could surprise Dion when he got back from his vacation. The next day Elyssa left to go back home to Portland and Chelsea and I took their hurse (yeah, they drive a hurse) to the airport to get Dion. I climbed in the back where I waited for him to arrive and smoked a cigarette which gave me an overwhelming feeling of irony... smoking a cigarette in the back of a hurse...
Dion finally arrived and climbed into the front seat, completely unaware of my presence. After letting him vent about the plane ride for a minute I jumped out and grabbed his shoulders shouting "HEY FUCKER!" The look on his face was priceless. It transitioned quickly from sheer terror to delighted surprise though. I spent that night at their apartment one more time and the next morning said my farewell's and went off to go pick up my next rideshare. A Lithuanian photographer named Berta. On to LA!

Hicks and Trailers and Weed, oh my!

I found a rideshare out of Portland. Her name is Rebecca and she is a very nice girl. After receiving multiple responses to my ad from 60 year old men asking if I did drugs Rebecca’s email was a glimmer of hope. As with all the responses I got I tried to do as much internet sleuthing as possible to find out who these people were so that I wouldn’t end up sharing a long drive with a crazy. I found Rebecca’s Facebook profile but it was private so being the crack detective I am I looked under her listed family and found her sister thinking she might shed some light on my would be passenger. Once I clicked on her pictures a strange familiarity came over me. I know this girl. She had pictures of her with her friends who just also happened to be my friends. She had a flyer on her page for a memorial benefit show for a friend of mine who passed away earlier this year. Her name was Kat and I had met her on several occasions at my work in Seattle. With an overwhelming feeling of “small world” taking over me I went back to Rebecca’s email and called the number she left. I awkwardly told her over the phone that I knew her sister and explained how. We laughed for a minute and then she responded with “well at least I know you wont kill me now!” Indeed.

I met her at her friends house and followed her to a place she could drop off her car. We stopped to get coffee at a little shop on the corner before we started our journey. As we were pulling away from the coffee shop I spied someone that looked kind of familiar. As we got closer this person looked like a dear friend of mine from back in Olympia but I thought there was no way it could be. I mean, I’m on a random street corner in a secluded part of Portland, two hours away from where this person resides. To my surprise, however, it actually turned out being my friend Nate and his girlfriend Ciara and their baby daughter. I couldn’t believe it. How random! I immediately pulled over hoping that they would share my feeling of joyess surprise. I yelled out “Nate!” a couple of times eventually getting his attention. They walked over to my truck with a puzzled look on their faces and after a few moments of processing a smile broke out across their faces and we all shared a good laugh at the random situation. And with that we said our goodbyes and my new friend Rebecca and I were on the freeway heading south.

The drive was pretty uneventful. We shared stories and talked about music for a while and that was pretty much it. I drove for the majority of the 9 hour drive but after about 7 hours I had had enough and let her take over. Besides, I had no idea where it was she was actually going. She just kept saying it was “outside of Sacramento.” After about an hour and a half we entered a city called Marysville.

“We’re getting close!” Rebecca exclaimed. “Smartsville, here we come!” Smartsville? Where the hell is Smartsville? She explained to me that it was a small community of about 80 people outside of Marysville. This was her destination, and as long as she had gas money I was fine with it. The highway started to get smaller and darker until eventually the only light to be seen for miles was that of my trucks headlights. We were winding our way into the darkness when I finally asked her to layout the plan for the night seeing as how it was almost midnight.

“We’re going to my favorite bar called ‘The Tack Room’. My friend Claire is there. You’re welcome to stay the night on her property if you want, they have trailers.” She told me.

“Trailers?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty big property and there is a trailer you can sleep in.”

Ok. Up until this point my plan was to just keep driving all the way through to the bay area but once I realized what time it was I decided it would be best for me to crash somewhere for the night. I then asked her why she was coming out to the middle of nowhere. She proceeded to describe this place we were going and how gorgeous it is and that she comes out this way every now and then to work on the farm. Now, in my head when she said “farm” I was thinking red barn, horses, cows, chickens and a quaint little farmhouse. This was not that kind of farm but I’ll get to that in a bit.

We pulled into The Tack Room parking lot where I could hear top 40 country hits blaring from inside. This place looked like a hunting lodge. Deer heads adorned the walls, fishing gear hanging above the back of the bar along with pictures of locals with their prize catches. There was a total of about then people in the whole place including Rebecca’s friend Claire sitting at the bar. We walked up and took a seat where I was immediately introduced not only to Claire but to the kind middle-aged woman behind the bar. I felt like I just showed up to a strangers family reunion. Everybody knew eachother. They even knew Rebecca and were all coming up to say hello and how much they had missed her. Feeling out of place I did what I could to mingle which ultimately ended up in me staring at a basketball game that was playing on a flatscreen on the wall at the end of the bar. I don’t even like basketball. As I was zoning out to the fast paced NBA action I hear a very angry, low voice out of the corner of my ear.

“Hey! What are you looking at?” The voice said. It took me a second to snap out of my daze and I started to look around until I caught eyes, or, eye, I should say with a very large man who was seated just to the left of the t.v. The reason I say “eye” instead of “eyes” is because this man only had one. His face appeared to have been horribly burned at some point in his life. His nose was barely there and his skin looked like plastic. He had dirty blonde, stringy hair that laid in long patches around the top of his head. He said it again, “Hey! What are you looking at?” At first I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me so I did the awkward, look-over-the-shoulder thing to see if there was anybody around me who would respond. No such luck. So I pointed at myself and said “Me?”.

“Yeah you. You got a problem?” I sat there kind of bewildered for a moment. Rebecca and her friend were both in conversation so they didn’t seem to notice what was going on.

“I’m watching the basketball game.” I pointed to the t.v.

“I could have sworn you were giving me the stink eye.” He said with a smirk.

“Nope, just watching the game.” He stood up and started walking in my direction. I stood up with a million thoughts running through my head. Is he going to try and fight me? Should I fight back? Is it socially acceptable to hit a disfigured person even if they are asking for it? As he got close he smiled and said “Alright, good. Thought we were gonna have a problem.” And then left. At this point I was ready to leave The Tack Room. Thankfully the girls just finished their drinks and were ready to go. I followed them out through one of the most winding roads I have ever driven on out to where the farm was. When we pulled up it didn’t look like a farm at all. There was a fairly large house atop a hill and it was surrounded by valleys. There were a few mobile homes on the property as well but as far as I could tell there were no cows or horses. When we got out of our cars I asked them if this was in fact, the farm Rebecca had told me about.

“Yeah,” Claire said “but, we don’t grow corn.” She said with a smile, “We grow weed.” It turns out this is her Uncle’s “farm” and they grow Marijuana for the local medical dispenseries around California. After that they showed me to my trailer so we could call it a night. Let me tell you, it was not the most pleasant of sleeping arrangements but I’ve definitely done worse. The trailer was COVERED in mouse shit. Pretty much everywhere except for the bed you were bound to find a little black turd. I pulled my heavy duty sleeping bag out of my truck and curled up on the tiny bed and went to sleep. The next morning they invited me to breakfast but at this point I had had enough of Smartsville and wanted to get on the road towards Dion and Chelsea. So that’s what I did. I bid my farewells to the ladies and was on the road again. Only this time by myself but oh well, it’s only another 3 hours. Oakland here I come.

Portland!

So, a lot has happened since I made my last post but I’m just going to segment it out in a series of different posts to make it easier to read. This one is about Portland.

I failed to find a rideshare out of Seattle or Olympia. Well, let me rephrase that… I failed to find a GOOD rideshare from Seattle or Olympia. All the responses I got were from the strangest, creepiest people including one guy who wanted to make sure I knew he was “professional” at what I don’t know, and that he was the owner of a company called “The Skull Company”. But when I looked it up nothing came up. He was also very demanding in when and where I would come get him because he didn’t own a phone (success?) and only felt safe meeting in grocery store parking lots. So I decided to ditch the rideshare idea.
I got in to Portland on the evening of the 20th and met up with my good pal Ed. Ed is this awesome punk rock kid from Olympia that I have known for years and as of a couple years ago has been living in Portland. He showed me around his giant house oh which he lives with 5 girls. 5 GIRLS. It’s like a less exciting, Portland punk version of the Playboy Mansion. Three out of the five are also old friends of ours from back in the day in Oly. There is Jenn, Nicci and April, all of whom are absolutely amazing. And then there were the Ice Queens… dun dun dunnnnn. These two bleached blonde punk princesses had a hard time acknowledging my existence even when we were being introduced. A muffled “hi” is all I could make out when shaking their tiny, cold hands. Ed and I met up with all of them at a quiet little bar called The East End where we drank large PBR’s and nachos. Then it got awkward… One of the bartenders came up to our table and asked us if we’d go in the basement. It was then that I realized that Ed knew this bartender. I asked Ed why we had to go downstairs. He told me that there was a band about to play down there and the bar felt bad that no one was there so he wanted us to be “the crowd”. So we watched this band, in a dark basement with nobody else there. It was very uncomfortable. And then it was on to the Alibi!
The Alibi is a tiki bar in Portland that makes you feel like you’ve just walked in to the most exotic goodwill you’ve ever seen. There is shit EVERYWHERE. Tiki statues, plastic fish, palm trees, hoola skirts stapled to the wall. This place was one of the most tacky places I have ever seen, but they had karaoke. So all night Ed and I had been talking about 90’s alternative music so naturally we had to find a doozie to belt out to the crowd. Our choice? Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls. Let me just say that you are a lucky person for not having been in that room. We ended our night there with a dance party to No Diggity and made our way back to Ed’s house where we proceeded to dance to 90’s music all night. The next morning we made our way to a little diner to cure our hangovers with biscuits and gravy. After that it was on to Brooke and Dan’s.

Brooke and Dan are two friends of mine that I have known for a very long time. As a matter of fact I had a hand in bringing those two love birds together years ago and also performed their wedding a few years later. Good people. We went out and ate at a few good places but kept it pretty mellow. The next day I was on my way to Sacramento, with a rideshare buddy!

Annnnnd he's off!

The journey begins...

After countless treks back and forth between Olympia and Seattle, and countless errands and detailed reviews I am actually now starting my journey south. I tried to find somebody to ride with me through the rideshare option on Craigslist but the only two people I found didnt end up working out. One was a girl named Krystal who seemed nice but ended up on a bus shortly after contacting me and the other was a sketch ball named Zach who claimed to be "professional" and that he was the "sole proprieter" of a company called SKULLLL. Yeah, no thanks. Well, time to start posting for Portland. Hopefully I come up with somebody cool. If not I'll just pick up the first drifter I see.

Wish me luck.

Rob

Final Day in Olympia

So this is it. My final day in Olympia. Tomorrow morning I make the trek back up to Seattle to have a dear friend of mine brutalize my chest for the sake of art and then I pick up my last two paychecks and then, like a flock of Geese I'm heading south for the winter. I'm excited about the trip but I'm trying not to have any expectations. I dont want to romanticize what this whole adventure is all about only to have it fail to meet what I've dreamt up. After all this time and planning and amongst all this chaos and confusion it's finally happening. I'm pursuing my dreams. I'm taking the plunge to pursue a career I'm actually happy with. These past few days in Olympia have really helped me realize how much I need this to work. I've seen good friends here who have graduated college and are working part time jobs that pay minimum wage. I see people I've known for years who are the exact same as the day we met. This city is like a void. A black hole that lures you in with it's charm and liberal thinking and interesting people yet it so successfully manages to hide the fact that it's glass cieling is incredibly low. There is a glimmer of hope in this vortex, however. I know for a fact that there are a few people here who will rise above, whether it be here or somewhere else, this town is full of wonderfully bright and brilliant people. I wish the best for all of them and I hope to see them all succeed someday.
As for me, I hit my glass cieling with a tremendous "THUD!'' both in Olympia and Seattle and I couldn't be more happy about it. It was the kick in the ass that I needed to take a leap of blind faith. For now all I can do is keep my fingers crossed and hope to land in a position that at least has an open skylight...


Rob

Goodbye Seattle

So as I mentioned in my last post, last night I left Seattle. I am currently residing at my parents house in Olympia, WA right now in preperation to leave for sunny socal. The only thing I'm waiting on right now is to finish a large tattoo I've started which should be done in about a week and a half. After that it's time to hit the road.

I'm going to miss Seattle. It is one of the most beautiful places I've ever had the pleasure of living in. I've met some great people up there and have had a ton of wonderful memories from this past year up there. I will undoubtedly be back there in the future.

FROM THIS:

TO THIS:

BACK TO THIS:

I love Olympia and it will always be home to me but as great as it is I'm really hoping that my plan does not fail.

Goodbye Pants

I had to give away my dog yesterday. Not for good, but for a pretty long amount of time. Since this move is kind of on the fly I realized it would be best for me to leave my beloved Pants here as opposed to taking him with me into the unknown and potentially making it more difficult for me to get on my feet down there.

I left him with a co-worker of mine at the dog daycare I worked at so I know he'll be getting lots of love and play time with all the other dogs. Even with the comfort of knowing he's in good hands I still can't help but feel like I made a bad choice. He sleeps with me every night and last night I slept alone. This morning, still alone I almost drove back up to Seattle to get him but common sense took over and I convinced myself that this was for the best.

My plan is that once I get my own place down there I will come back for him or have a friend bring him down. I just hope this long time apart from him isn't going to screw with his little puppy head.

Pants, I love you and miss you!!

Welcome!

Hi, how's it going? My name is Rob and this is my blog. A little about me first... I love all types of music from folk to hip hop but I have built my life around punk/metal/hardcore. It got me through some tough times in my life and continues to bring me immense joy every day. I love to travel as well. Sad fact: I've seen more of Europe than I have of my own country. I need to change that. My hobbies and passions are movies/media, comics and nerd stuff in general, video games, drinking beer, partying with my friends, history, politics and current events, helping the less fortunate and meeting new people. Here is a picture of me:


So that's me. Now, on to the blog...

The purpose behind this whole thing is strictly for your entertainment. A sort of voyeuristic peek into my life and what lies ahead for me in the near future. See, I'm at a turning point in my life right now. I just turned 25 in October of '09 and on that day something took a hold of me. Some cosmic force latched itself on to me driving me ultimately to what this blog is all about - change. I need to change my life.
I got my first job when I was 17 years old as a maintenance mechanic for a Volkswagen dealership and it was cool at first. I was getting school credit for it and getting paid! Sure, it was nice having lots of money compared to my fellow Juniors but since I never had the means to attend college they all eventually went on to surpass me in the financial department. From 17 until the present I have done nothing but constantly work shitty jobs. Jobs with no growth potential beyond a $.50 raise after six months. I've had some great jobs though, don't get me wrong, but as time went on I realized that these places aren't going to get me anywhere in the future. I had no plan, no path, no goals in my life and on that day in October, the day of my birth, that cosmic force screamed into my ear "HEY! BUDDY! Get your shit together or you're going to hate life!". So I am. Well, attempting to anyway.
So here it is. My genius plan... I am going to get rid of anything that I don't absolutely need; dwindle my belongings down to only what I can fit into the back of my truck; quit my TWO jobs (Yes, I had two jobs. In this economy... you probably want to slap me, right?); save roughly $2000 and move to sunny Los Angeles! Why Los Angeles? Because that is the epicenter of my life goals.
Since about 4th grade I have been obsessed with movies/TV, but not just the characters on the screen. I wanted to know how these things were made. As the years went on and I became more passionate about it I started to try and figure out a way to become the next Scorsese. I tried to learn everything I could about being a director. That passion is still there but now that I'm a little older but my ambitions have become a little more focused. So here is what I want to do...
I want to work with this:

I want to be a camera operator, or camera assistant. I figure, get in to that field and see where it goes from there. But enough about specifics. My real goal, the MAIN reason for this change in my life and the root cause of this blog is simple... success. I want to be successful. Not rich and famous, red carpet, cover of US Weekly successfull, but living happy and comfortable successful. Understandable, right? My ENTIRE life has been one long rat race of mediocracy. I have never received a pay check for more than $700 and most of the ones that were that high were for two or more weeks worth of work. The closest I came was $730 tax return a couple of years ago and that trumps my paychecks I'm getting today. But, basically I'm tired of working these fruitless jobs with nowhere to go. I'm tired of busting my ass for 70 hours a week to pay bills. I want to get into a professional field with room to grow and I want to be fucking happy about it.

The idea behind this blog:

So the idea behind this is like I said earlier, for your entertainment. Currently I am still in Seattle and as time goes on and my journey begins I will be trying to document it as much as possible with the "happy ending" being me eventually getting a four figure check. That's the goal. I am going to document my journey from packing up the truck to the drive down to job interviews, parties, girls, random shit etc. etc. So please, check back occasionally and see how I'm doing. Will I make it or will I fail? Will I live it up in Hollywood or end up back at my parents house in Olympia? Stick around and find out. Thanks.

Rob