Alright so it's like this: I move out here to LA some two plus months ago now to pursue acting endeavors with my friends. the guy who is the major player in motivating myself and some other folks from our origins at whole world theater is Lance Krall ( don't have link capabilities yet but his site is www.lancekrall.com). he is a conduit for our artistic expressions, helping direct, doing camera and editing. we've shot some really funny stuff, really, I think it's quite good. anyway, the point, yes, is that I find myself not any closer to pursuing my own ends to get "my acting shit together", i.e head shots, going after an agent / manager, or even doing extra work. why? well, life, I guess, has intervened in the meantime ( insert Lennon quote). this isn't from the regret tip, mind you, it's more like i woke up today and realized, "what the hell AM I doing?" again, no complaints here, I continue to fall more in love with this state with every waking hour, but I feel like years could slip by at this pace and I'm still fiddling around at the point of origin. the real issue ? I guess the frightening warmth of comfort. I'm here in this great little house with two great little roomates, we play music constantly and truly inspire one another creatively and I am indeed happy. I have a great job working out of the house, thank God, and all is well. but should I be this .... content?

one cliche-ish comment i made at breakfast today at this overly trendy breakfast nook on melrose was how utterly in awe I am at the magnitude of wealth in this town. I know, wake up rob, it's hollywood, but damn, it's sick. everywhere you turn gorgeous homes line the streets and immaculate 80k + cars slip by you in traffic. everywhere. now, obviously I'd love to live without ducking the phone from time to time, but I really have no desire to be among the "cattle", or "Angus" I guess as the case may be. I'm happy with my ford ranger, thanks again ryan flo for hooking me up with 'mighty mouse' ( a month before i left town i was reeling at the fact i had to drive out here in a 1985 camry, the serial killer's car of choice, before ryan sold me his old truck ).
i thought i had dealt with this issue while working in corporate-ville buckhead in atlanta back in '99, but being around sooo many "well off" folks has brought this content-ness thing back in my head. as mat would probably not say without bringing up the strange concoction of terms, it's a veritable cornucopia of never-ending dollar signs. huddle close to me, my fellow broke friends and let us warm ourselves from the fire of true friendships and humble existences.