When you move to a new place, basic things you once took for granted can be difficult to acquire. Where is the nearest video store? Where can I buy travel packs of Benefiber? And what, dear lord, must be done to obtain internet in one's apartment? Why is it that every household in Portland uses password protection for their wireless connections? I find this very disconcerting. What happened to camarderie between neighbors? I started to fantasize about hacking into my strongest signal, "ObamaIsACunt." Eventually, I left a note in the door of the people across the hall, and now I share a wireless network with them. (Obama is not a cunt.)
I recently obtained an internship at Movie Camp PDX, in the hopes that it would lead me to a paid gig. For the past two weeks, I was a teaching assistant in the acting division of the camp. We played a lot of improvisation games and got headshots and memorized monologues, and I didn't even want to mutilate any of the campers. Unfortunately, I haven't been offered a job. But I did get to eat some left over bananas from a Harrison Ford flick they're shooting, and what's more important than that?
In my spare time, I've composed a short list entitled .... Come to Portland If:
Come to Portland If:
- Your parents named you Breeze/Zafiro/Athena/Crunch/Anything Belonging in a Fairytale/MTV Reality Programming, or you renamed yourself with a word consisting of more than three vowels
- 10 - 80% of your hair is dyed at least one shade of ROYGBIV
- You play an instrument (bonus points for guitar or African drums)
- You want to play an instrument (bonus points for guitar or African drums, more for those who are vegan and protest animal hide drums)
- You are too broke to afford an instrument or the lessons it requires
- A stud is your nose ring and not Zack Morris from Saved by the Bell
- If you aren't vegan, you're vegetarian, and if you're not vegetarian, you are a fervent supporter of free range livestock
- Coffee is your closest thing to religion, and it tastes best with a book and a cigarette outside, and you if you don't have a tattoo on your arm that you can flaunt in such tasks, you're missing out on life's little goodies
- You hate California more than Iran or New Jersey
Time to pretend like I'm not the typical antisocial blogger now, and bike home.
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