Monday, Bloody Monday

Big weekend. Lots of stuff to talk about, but I must speak what is on my mind at this paticular moment.

This morning, I opened my email and recieved an acceptance letter from The Newport Beach Film Festival to which I kinda rolled my eyes at. I swear (even though I don't think it's possible) that I've send Timothy there per their request THREE YEARS IN A ROW! I've been rejected the first two time and now third times a charm I guess. So, whatever, yey, I'll try to go. Hopefully it will play the Lido or something. So anyways, to check the actor's spelling I go to the imdb Timothy page for that and I notice it's got 5 votes--enough to get a rating. Five people have voted on my film. It has a 4.4 overall rating. That's not good. 5 is mediore. I'm biased, but I think, it should be around a 6 or 7. I know it's not perfect... So I look at the voting breakdown 2 Votes rate it an 8. 1 each for 3,2,1 rating. I go "shit, I might as well but in my two cents" so I vote and--I've never done it before-- it actually says the 1 means awful. So some dude actually voted Timothy a 1. AWFUL. I mean come on, I know it's not perfect, but AWFUL!?!?! My feeling are hurt. Three votes in the awful catigory... I obviously hit a nerve... and they hit back at mine. Damn. Awful? Come on. Give me a break.

That's where I'm at this morning.... Damn. But hey, Shaun Alexander's still a Seahawk right? A rich one at that.

It's been a good weekend for me. I watched the ACE editor seminar that Alan hosted saturday morning. Played a poker tournament and won(!!!) that evening. Last night I split the Oscar pool (read:another win) with Goob. So that was bitchin'. It's tradgic though. I conseeded and picked only who was supposed to win--and won. I missed out on picking the best picture nominee, but who cares? I won the pool. I have to say that George Clooney's speech was great. I really like that guy. I was rooting for Good Night and Good Luck. But you knew that already. It would be great if George Clooney hosted the oscars at some point because he'd be great.

Basically I won some money this weekend. I didn't spend money, which I needed to do. I start improv class next weekend. I'm still in the final stages of finishing a decent cut of the sweatshop short.

Peace out I guess.

Oh man. I forgot to tell you I had a crazy dream last night. I was supposed to be executed by a principal/warden who ruled the campus. A Demolition High type moment. The principal--a menicing man--shot me like three or four times and gave my body to some goons to finish the job. These goons were my friends on the 'inside'. One of them was Justin Lam. Apperently the only way I was going to get away was to fake my death and that ment getting shot. I didn't understand why, but I was loosing lots of blood so everything was fuzzy and it already happened, so there was no point in rethinking the plan because I was alread shot. Justin and some other friends locked me in a desk drawer/closet-type place for me to hide out in for a while, but they also locked themselves in the room with the prinicpal presumably waiting outside. Oh, Irv and Osbrink were also in the dream. I'm lying in darkness of the closet, trying to recooperate from the bullit wounds and trying to figure what the fuck sort of plan this was and I ask, how everyone in the room--the inside guys who were helping me--weren't going to get caught helping me because they locked themselves in the room with me and the principal saw them go in... it makes no sense and I can't think straight because I'm bleedin and stuffed a drawer. Someone says "they did it in the movie Scream" and I'm like I don't think they did... but I try to think, but can't focus because of the bleeding and I think Justin Lam's smart, so okay, they did it in Scream. After taking a nap in the drawer, I wake up in the room alone and make a break for it. Outside the room is like an airport with lots of guards and I sneak around and but get discovered and then have to run, and hide and run and punch some guards. I run around town and meet Osbrink (who I think is George Clooney)--I'm dilerious from blood loss and he, mind you--at a loading doc and he corrects my mistake and helps me loose the guards tailing me. He slyly tricks the guards by playing basketball with him. This sort of sly diversion is really a loopy me, thinking it's cleaver rather than being true. I run around town. Hide out here and there. Never really escape "the man" or whatever force is chasing me. Then wake up. It was a weird dream because I was thinking so much about my surroundings and then not really going with my gut and let other people push me around and do what they say. I donno. You had to be in my head with me.