A Hypothetical

Let's say you own an ipod shuffle.  Let's also say that you've got a hoodie with a very saggy front pocket.  Now let's imagine you're in an airport, sitting across from numerous people.  Let's say you decide to listen to your ipod shuffle and therefore place it in your front pocket for convenience sake.  Now, let's say you're listening to a song that you don't wish to be listening to any more.  What if, because you assume it will be more effective, you try to locate the "forward" button on your ipod shuffle through the outside of your saggy pocket using your index finger?  How might that go?  What might that look like?

I'll tell you what it looks like.  It looks like you're rubbing your crotch as though you were petting a new born baby duck.  And evidently that looks weird.  At least that's my assumption based on the looks I was getting.  Why it took me longer than five seconds to realize this, I'll never know.

...Also, don't stick your tongue out to the side at any point.  

...Hypothetically speaking of course.  

- The Bean

The City is Angry Today

My face is all puffy.  Initially I thought that maybe I was allergic to handsome, but if that were the case, my body would have exploded a long time ago.  I'm hoping it's because I'm sick and not because I'm pregnant, which I thought I took care of months ago.  Everyone at school has been getting sick for a while now and I've only just finally given in and become sick myself.  My thinking is that it's due to my incredibly strong and efficient immune system.  Seriously, my immune system is so strong that I think sometimes it's capable of physically lifting objects.  "How is that possible?" you might ask.  To that I would respond with "Shut up and let me dream."  

On another note, it rained the tiniest bit today in the city of Los Angeles.  It wasn't even bad and wasn't really even noticeable to me.  In Portland, it's what we would call "shorts weather."  However, this not being Portland, the city as a whole had an entirely different opinion.  As I was walking home from school, the general public was in misery.  They seriously looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie.  People were stumbling around confused and horrified.  It would have been kind of amusing if it hadn't been so scary.  There was an old man shouting at security outside a Borders bookstore, people were more pushy on the sidewalk than they normally are, and there were people in cars wanting to physically assault each other at a stoplight near my home.  It's sad when the smallest, simplest thing can make people seem so ugly.

Oh, and on a lighter note, if you're ever wondering how it might be possible to make your existence a little more bad ass, do the following:  get yourself some business cards!  Holy shit, if you don't already have one, GET ONE.  I don't even care what you do for a living because you can make that little rectangle of paper say whatever you want it to!  For example, I'm still in film school and have officially accomplished nothing in my professional life.  However, my new business card still says my name and underneath that it says "Screenwriter."  How incredibly awesome is that?  I mean, it's pretty cool if the place that you work for gives you some business cards with your name on it, but it's a completely different level when you get to choose what goes on there yourself.  I think I'm going to have several made up just in case I run into a scenario where I need people to know that I'm a "Professional Clown Puncher" or a "Human Push-up Machine."  Regardless of what you put on there, I think you should get some.  And then I think you should give one to me because, honestly, I'm all about networking.

- The Bean

My Life is Complete

So I was coming back from lunch with Russ when we saw it.  I think I may have even peed a little bit.  That's how excited I was.  Ever since I was a kid, if there was one vehicle from a major motion picture that I absolutely needed to see close up, it was this:

Russ saw it a few car lengths ahead, so we sped up to try to get a closer look to see if our eyes deceived us. But it was real. Probably just some super fan of the movie that tricked out his car, but it looked so fucking cool you can't even believe it. We pulled up behind it, then we pulled up along side of it, and then we got in front of it. Here's what I saw in the rearview mirror:

How frickin' badass is that!?  I wanted to scream like a little girl.  Honestly people.  As far as I'm concerned, this is as good as it gets.

Also, for those of you that maybe assumed/hoped I was dead, I'm still alive and kicking.  Film school has been pretty non-stop and today was the first day I've actually had free, so I thought I'd try to fill you in.

So for starters, here is where I go to school:

It's called the Los Angeles Film School and it's located on Sunset Blvd (which is Hollywood terminology for "Boulevard."  Actually, it's just English terminology, but whatever.)  Before 1999, the building was an RCA recording studio for a long time.  Artists like Elvis, the Monkees, The Rolling Stones, John Williams, Eartha Kitt (the OG Catwoman), Jefferson Airplane, and others recorded there.  So it's got a pretty neat history.

Anyway, basically each month at the school we have two completely intense classes.  This first month was Film Theory (both a lecture and a lab) and Behavioral Science (or psychology if I'm not trying to dress it up).  There is a TON of hands on experience in the lab, which is the best part in my opinion.  We've learned how to operate a pretty simple camera, we've learned the basic 3-point lighting, we've learned how to line a script and how to set up coverage.  There's so much stuff!  It's awesome.

So far, we've had three filming assignments.  If I wasn't embarrassed by them (mostly because I appear in them), I'd totally post them up.  The first was a project titled "Lost & Found."  It had to be a single shot (no editing) about someone that loses something and then finds it again.  Also it had to be between 30 seconds to a minute.  It was basically to teach us how to tell a really basic story.  The second assignment was a group project titled "Painting" where we had to pick a painting with people in it and basically recreate it with a ten second static shot.  The goal was to recreate the lighting and get as close to the original painting as we could.  To give you an idea of how difficult this project was, for our final ten second shot, it took us a good four hours to get the lighting right.  I have a whole new respect for the gaffer at the end of the movie now.  The third project was titled "Working" and was all about subtext.  Again, it was a single, continuous shot.  We had to select a monologue from a book called "Working" by a dude named Studs Terkel (greatest. name. ever.) and then turn that monologue (about that person's specific job) into a dialogue that had a deeper meaning for the protagonist.  It was pretty tough, but good experience.  

So that's that.  Our first set of classes is now over, which explains this freed up weekend I've got.  But, again, in case you were concerned over my well being, I'm better than I've ever been.  I'm having a great time and finally understanding what it can be like when you actually enjoy school.

I'll try to be funny next time I post, but I just wanted to give a quick update.  Hope you all are doing well!

- The Bean

Wanna Feel Embarrassed for Me?

Have any of you ever wondered what it would feel like to be a disgrace to your heritage?  You have?  Well let's pretend you said "no" so I can explain to you what that's like.  Here in what I like to call "Mexico Jr." I have several "biggest fears."  I know what you're thinking (you're so predictable).  You're thinking "you can't have more than one 'biggest fear' as the word 'biggest' implies singularity."  First of all, don't tell me what I can or can't have.  Second, you don't have to use big words to make me think you're smart.  I love you just the way you are.  Third, please let me finish my story before you try to interrupt me again.  Okay?

Anyway, one of my big fears is that a native Spanish speaker will come up to me assuming I have a complete grasp of the language and try to start a conversation with me.  I, of course, remember bits and pieces of Spanish that I learned in high school.  My reaction is usually the same every time.  It's like this.  Imagine what it must be like to be a baby, completely new to the world, and have a complete stranger come up to you and start speaking sounds you've never heard before.  Yeah, that's what it feels like for me.  And I generally react the same way a baby would.  I'll stare at them for a few seconds, blink a couple of times, make a cute spitting sound, and then I poop a little bit.

I don't know what it is that even makes me seem so approachable.  Whenever I'm out in public, I try to look tough or at least act like I don't want to be talked to.  And it NEVER works.  I think they see the glasses and the gut and immediately think "Yeah, this guy's harmless.  Unless I come at him looking like a bag of candy, I'm probably gonna be okay."  It's crap people.  I like to avoid public interaction as much as possible.  This is not to say that I won't help you if you ask me for it.  I'm just not a fan of the attention.

The scenario today occurred as I was buying a ticket for the subway.  The moment that I stepped up to the machine, I felt this presence over my right shoulder.  Someone just standing there, staring.  It made me more uncomfortable when I realized there were at least three other open ticket terminals.  I was even more frightened when, as I reached down to grab my ticket, someone tapped my shoulder and started speaking Spanish.  I even had my headphones in!  Come on.  I call foul.  I pretended I didn't feel anything but he persisted.  So I popped one of the ear buds out and he starts talking at me a mile a minute.  I pick up the word "ticket" and notice he's holding a coin that looks like a peso.  "Great," I'm thinking "he wants to give me a peso for some real change."  After closer inspection I realize that it's a subway token.  So I ask him if it's one way.  He says "yes."  I show him how to pay for his ticket.  He says "thanks" and I wave and walk away because I can't even say "de nada" without feeling like an asshole.

I don't get how that works.  I helped someone today and I still end up feeling like a jerk.  Weird.  Anyway, seeing as how I'm going to be taking the train a lot more frequently, I foresee this sort of thing happening somewhat regularly.  I've either got to learn to look tougher, or learn how to fake a seizure.  Somehow I think that last one would cause more problems.  Oh well.  

A Mexican looking guy that doesn't speak Spanish.  This is my curse.

- The Bean

Welcome Home!

Or, I guess, welcome to MY home I should say.  I made another vlog.  I never thought I'd use that word, so you have my permission to punch me in the neck the next time you see me.  You should only watch this video if you've got like an hour and a half to kill, because it's long.  Seriously, it's like a movie.  I only had a 1.3 million dollar budget to work with though, so it's nothing special really.

Kidding, of course.  My budget was $0 and the movie is closer to 9 minutes long, which is still pretty lengthy, especially if you find it boring.  Though I don't know why you're always complaining about stuff.  Geez, just watch it.  I'm trying to give you something to help you kill time at work.  Be appreciative.  

I start school next week, so we'll see how regular I can be with the updates and whatnot.  Thanks for taking an interest.  Or, at the very least, thanks for somehow stumbling upon this page and accidentally clicking play.

- The Bean

Rene Goes to Hollywood

No, seriously.  I moved there.  It wasn't all just a bunch of talk like that time I said I'd kill myself if I ever moved to Los Angeles.  I left on Friday October 9th and got here October 10th.  Below I've actually included a small video blog of the trip.  It's pretty dumb and boring but, then again, so are you.  So I don't see what the big deal is.  The trip left me a little beat up.  Oh, and the pill you'll hear me refer to a couple of times in the video is actually something called "ProVigil" which is totally legal (in Mexico).  So here you go:

When I get all settled in, I plan on giving a video tour of the new place.  But be forewarned, my relationship to this apartment is like a kid wearing his dad's suit.  I don't fit quite yet, but I might before too long.

Also, I realize this entry isn't necessarily funny, but as I actually start attending film school, I figure I'll just turn it into a documentation of my experiences.  My guess is that it's gonna last about a week.  Anyway, here's the video.

- The Bean

Let's Have a Lazy Contest!

Okay, so I was thinking earlier today about scenarios in my life that might make me feel as lazy and useless as is humanly possible.  Actually, I wasn't even actively pursuing this thought process.  I realized it as it was happening.  It involved the following:

Me watching Olympic Judo while eating a "S'mores" flavored Pop-Tart.  Hang with me for a second as I explain the full reality of the situation.  Me, an unpolished lump of a man, watching humans at the pinnacle of their athletic prowess competing with one another to prove that they are the best in the world.  Them: holding the hopes and dreams of a nation on their shoulders.  Me: holding a Pop-Tart.

And to stretch that extreme a little further, I didn't even toast the Pop-Tart.  Reasons include the following: 1) I don't have that kind of time and 2) the toaster was all the way downstairs.  I wasn't about to pull a hammy over it.  

I later noticed that my delicious breakfast treat (that I was enjoying around 2:00 in the afternoon) came with a temporary tattoo!  I almost pooped!  But then I hit a snag.  As most of you well know, temporary tattoos involve a small amount of water and some type of washcloth to apply them with.  The dream was over.  I wasn't about to get out of my chair and walk three or maybe even four steps outside of my bedroom door and into my bathroom.  I was already situated people!  But lo and behold, I devised a plan.  I grabbed my water bottle and an old napkin I found on my desk.  The dream was back alive!  

So now I sit alone in my room with a tattoo that looks as dumb as you might imagine.  It says "Pop-tarts" and has a picture of a girl hiding behind a toaster that says "fitting rooms" on it.  She's waiting for the unsuspecting anthropomorphic toaster pastry (also pictured) to hop on in.  Sick bitch.

And that pretty much sums up my existence to this point.  If you're skeptical of my actual laziness, allow me to present the following.  In writing this blog I've actually been somewhat annoyed that I've had to both capitalize and hyphenate the word "Pop-Tart," so much so that I even paused once to try to think of a different word to use.  Before I started I even contemplated not writing this blog at all.  My fingers are weak and tired.  I'm going to bed.

- The Bean