Give A Little Love

I did not intend this to be a once a month thing. I don't intend for a lot of things to happen. It's never been in my game plan to drink so much I black out but I've managed that. (Apparently).

All the positivity, the constant self-affirmation of these pages, is hard work because:

1. I am mondo lazy,
2. I am kind of sad.

I'm not a happy person. It's not intended. But there you have it. Why -at six in the p.m.- should I be sitting in a darkened room, literally staring at the ceiling?

Especially when ma's surpassed herself in getting us a last minute ticket, when all of a sudden I'm Home for the Holidays, when I thought I wouldn't see anyone until a year after I'd left them... Why do things keep getting muddled? You don't know. I don't know either, really.

But, what keeps me trying, are those moments when the veil lifts. And, now that everyone who could be surprised was surprised, that I am here (in Athens, Greece), home for Christmas but not New Year's, I share as I leave again, in hope of understanding, one of those moments:

EXT. ITHAKI HARBOR - NIGHT

The boys are getting there, when:

Eli catches something in his rearview mirror.

Do they ever stop you in Greece? Pull you over to the side of the road?

Cut to the boys OK we're lost

straight there

or something about wacky races pou den exw idea ti symvainei koitaw ta plhktra k kanoune zooom in zoooom out k panw katw panw katw sa na eimai h Sandra Bullock sto Network (?) Pagidevmenh sto diktyo telws pantwn The Web?

exw kollhsei me ena zevgari agglakia mia kopela k enan typo epeidh skeftomai ypervolika na tous milhsw alla me stamataei to gegonos oti tha eimai o typos sthn istoria tous pou htane kommatia k aftoi exoun erthei edw mono na pioun k se styl it will be the weird person they met in amsterdam.

Kai tote tote skefotmai poia einai akrivws h istoria mou e kai einai gamath eimai edw se 8 hour layover apo thn amerikh. (edw pou exw erthei me giannh me to grhgorh me to xarh)

pwwwwwpw frikh mphkane kati koules pou milane mia varia glwssa phxth k nomisa oti htan ellhnika kai mphkame se mia (italiano!) syzhthsh ateleiiiiiiwth pou den katalavainomastan. Hmoun san apo tainia tromou sto tripaki panw enas pou arxizei speaking in tongues. Wx ki hrthan ki alles kai einai italides kai me a-po-syn-to-ni-zoun!

einai poly konta mou kai kanoun poly thorybo.

ki exw toso prosperasei to na mporw na grapsw gia to senario - petaxa toso makria pou paei afto exoume ftasei se allo epipedo. ena epipedo pou den paizetai, den ginetai, den einai yparxei eirmos?

Niwthw oti oi wmoi my shoulders i feel them i fll them pushing in toward my spine like on my back the cable knit cardigan is too heavy it's made of something fat and heavy and warm-weighing like gold.

metaferw apo to trapezaki to neo laptopaki sta podia mou. me vlepw prin na eimai san th matzika de spell (oxi th despell afth htan wraia alla ths xionaths th magissa pou'tan kampoura to despell omws maresei pio poly einai pio evhxo vre paidi mou)

aristera dexia aristera trabalizetai to
lapto paki ithela na grapsw to deinosavraki
giat to ithela afto ma giati den mporw na
krathsw mia skepsh parpanaw apo pente lepta

oooohgHJLJNNN

Something molis espase ston katw orofo. tous akouw na to mazevoun. pathainw me tis ekfraseis pou fantazomai na kanw. mousikh, italides k vlefaro na tremopaizei. sa na paei na pesei na prodwsei san ton typo apenanti pou to ena tou mati de leei, kyriolektika adynatei na anoixei...

k koitaw thn wra sto ypologistaki pou einai 6: 00 am giati exei meinei stou l.A. ki as eimai sto Amsterdam k thymamai etsi ta panta ola mpainoun mesa mazi kateftheian o giannhs ki o grhgorhs kai o xarhs k h amerRikh k to kalokairi k to fevgio (eipa fevgio?!) pou se stelnei ekei kkk ooops

k to poios eisai k pws den milhses stous agglous apenanti aggloi htan to eipa ? kai pws phges k milhses stis itallides k pws you are That GUy thaaaaaaaaaaat guy k nai ta vlefara (paw olo na grapsw flevara) petarizoun san ths Jerri Blank (what is flevara?)

k phgan na mou xarisoun ena sakoulaki oi itales giati fevgoun shmera k tous lew "ki egw!" k pali den katalavainomastan alla shnnennoooouuontai me tous agglous synennoountai k oh my god i am ana alien. o h my god i just typed o h mygod i am ana alien oooooooooo if only someone could see me right now

but wait-- if this were all written down to be read would it read true or not would it be real or not would it have happened?

i actually raise my eyebrow i actually pout my lips i actually in this place that I, where I, exist truly. fully of this world and entirely not of it. a rap trying to write itself but I'm too white but not white in an american way because in greece we don't have colours in people

Until very recently all you would find in greece is Greeks and yes some others but the others were such a very small minority that you learn to think them like that (Others) subconsciously and then one day you realize you're technically racist because you are not used to them and spending time with them

Aggelikh was my friend who's black back in 1st grade. We did projects together she was nice I think we were supposed to be in a common group of friends

OI italines synexizoun na me vgazoun apo ton eirmo mou afth th fora gia na zhthsoun stylo ka na mhn katannohthoume na ta grafw egw na shkwnetai to frydaki

ERIOUSLY

Eriously

SSSS

Literally these things are happening - As a child she is not your black friend she really is your friend who is black and you are her friend who -- I don't know. She's greek she's grown up Greek but she's black in color and what that does mean

nd did i just burp? did they hear me?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAa my stomach was killing me during the flight should I eat smth! but then i fear that when I'm writing ENglish they could look over they could understand it but then I remember that we are all in here so fucked up they'd first misunderstand it for italian and try to read it thus and then by the time they realiase what the fuck they're doing -- it's gone

wpa gia koka lene twra. (koita poses lexeis einai koines pws mporoune apla na koitaxoun thn othonh sou k na xeroun apo mia lexh ti les gia ti les kkkkkkk--shoukders back00-

shoulders back. ow ow oh aou the tension. wa sthat guy hot? should I look did he notice what's the time? ^: 41 A M

6 forty five a m

in my sleep?

at the same time;

i am

the most timid

and the most adVenturous persons that could ever be

moving in tandem

living differently

alll all al l at the same time.

poetic- y break in text to see jjgk see what happens

things I have mocked I do aI I do well I do amusingly

I have decided that the above is actually a poem and I thus present it but it needs something some3thing more thelei

THELEI

afto molies synevh sto myalo mou pwwwwwwwwwwwwwpwwwwww doulema pou exei na pesei epi anagnwshs aftou edw tou keimenououououo. den yparxw den den den xanaxan xana ta tria 4 plhktra tap tap rtap /tap tap rtap /tap tap rtap

ki alloi italoi nearoteroi afth th fora pio rasta kietsi kathontai kai fevgoun oi original italides pou htan k megalokopeles ax kai xairetiountai oi italoi giati einai koinoi touristeeeeees

ax giati de milhsa stous 8 ellhnes pou petyxa sto dormo erxomenos
ki enas isws htan k cute me th fag hag toy.
APAradektos

aloi galoi aa

ALLOI GALOI STH THESI TWN
ITALIDWN K A EINAI TOSO DYSKOLO PLEON
NA KAR KRATAW

OPOINDHPOTE EIROM

nc

kai isws kai aftos na ienai ellhnas alla den einai, einai gallos! ti ki an moiazei me skitso tou arka? aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa gallika GALLIKA den mprw mporw aaaaaarg flashback se ola

gallika mathimata yuck bleuuuuuurgh hisss sixama ta misousa giati?

htan toso kalh h Avgh. Toso kalh.

Kai wx! Mporw twra afto me ola ta onomata na to anevasw?

Giati eixa skopo na vgei ena post kalo s'afto to taxid i

but this is not what I had on mind

Not what I had in mind.

So high.

Is that guy Turkish?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoh my G

gallos pali

k krywsa k vazw mia xaketa akoma ki anarwtiemai poso travaw thn prosoxh olous tous nomizw ellhnes k travaw thn prosoxh k grafw grafqw twra prospathwntas na mhn grapsw niwthw san kartoon pou to travane ta podia na kanei kati kai ta xeria menoun pisw elastika kollhmena se delay.

Ouf. paragraph.

Deeeeep deep breath -- Exhale.

AA

Ah!

MY teeth HUETy hurt There are no places to hide here - no reasons. where should I styop? StOP.

It would be possible to go on forever but I don't want to mixsx miss this flight This flight is what everything reevreything is abnout

about one thing

Love

That's what it all all is. This flight this trip is love.

I;M COMING HOME
My alarm rang to the tune of Skins

Last toke at 4:02
(Amsterdam time pm iPhone has synchronized-

I;M COMING HOME (CONT'D)
Hahahahahahaha! Wait there we go that's
what I wanted dialogue it goes it goes

Ahem

I;M COMING HOME (CONT'D) (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Last toke at 4: 02 (PM)

and wrapping up.

!

Things I Bought That I Love

If I could one day have an awesome blog that I don't update nearly enough because I'm on the writing team of an NBC comedy while putting together my very own show? I would be soooo happy.

I'd also like Mindy Kaling's Subtle Sexuality

I'm fairly happy now. The last little while has been a good one. And it's about time I got you caught up on it, wouldn't you say? You would?! Well, I'll be...

Από που ν' αρχίσω; Όχι. Σοβαρά. Από που; Να τα πάμε χρονολογικά; Ή να το παίξω πιο αβάν'τ γκαρντ και να το πάρουμε με φλάσμπακς και φλασφόρουαρντζ; Άσχετο: το ΦλασΦόρουαρντ το'χετε δει; Το βλέπετε; Είδα το πρώτο -συμπαθές ήταν- αλλά ξέμεινα εκεί, δε με κράτησε. Λάθος;

As HIMYM has taught us, there's no way to go wrong with a list, so let's start there:

Things I Bought That I Love

1. The course - $4,500.00
   
2. Smiley Face wine - $9.99
   
3. Half a ham - $14.25
   

1. This one's pretty self-explanatory. The normal bouts of doubts and whining aside -which, really, come with the Me package- it's working out well. I'm progressing, I'm a bit ahead of the game and I've been told time and again that my note-giving's really good. I would go into detail of how my praises were sung in the particular department but that'd only serve to make me sound like even more of a douche than I actually am. Suffice it to say that the three years working in Greece did not go to waste. Wheee!

Οκέη, οκέη... Μου 'πανε δατ άη ώλουεηζ γκέτ ράητ του δε χαρτ οφ δε μάτερ κι ότι δεν υπάρχει κανείς άλλος μες στο γούορκσοπ μου που να μπορεί να δώσει φήντμπακ τόσο καλά όσο εγώ. Γαμάτο, έτσι; Αν μη τι άλλο αν το τετοιάκι σεναριογράφος δε βγει υπάρχει και μια εναλλακτική.

2. Speaking of which. Here's some wheee in a bottle. Not wee. That comes later.

Wheee!

Νοστιμότατο στα δέκα δολάρια το μπουκάλι αλλά η πραγματική του αξία βρίσκεται αλλού όπως 5 από σας πρέπει να ψυλλιαστήκατε. Όταν το 'δα στα ράφια του Τρέηντερ Τζο'ς δε θα μπορούσε να 'ναι πιο έντονο σύμβολο. Μέχρι να συνειδητοποιήσω τι έβλεπα είχα κάνει αναδρομή σε όλο μου το καλοκαίρι. Είχα μελαγχολήσει και χαρεί επτά φορές κι όταν επανήλθα σκέφτηκα πόσο μινιμαλιά είναι η ετικέτα και... πώς να μην το πάρω;

3. There was plenty of wheee on Thanksgiving. Two red bottles' worth, plus a sixpack of something or other. And so much food: Baked beans, mashed potatoes, meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, New Yorker's Greek salad and that half a ham. The crowning achievement of a kingly meal, the half a ham was carefully cured with a brown sugar and crushed pineapple glaze. Can't you just taste it?

King Ham

Λουκούμι! Εντωμεταξύ, δεν ξέρω σε πόση λεπτομέρεια μπορώ να μπω για τους εκεί παρευρισκόμενους. Απ' τη μία, τα Ελληνικά προσδίδουν μια λεπτή λωρίδα κάλυψης. Απ'την άλλη, ποτέ δεν ξέρεις ποιος από τους νέους μου συμμαθητές μπορεί να χτυπήσει το μπλογκ μέσω Φέησ-μπούκ. Βάλε και κάναν τυχαίο φίλο συμμαθητού να 'ναι Έλληνας ή ήμι-Έλληνας και άντε μετά να εξηγήσαι. Και με την ακροαματικότητα του Κάηντα Γκρέητ Γκάη συνειδητοποιείτε είναι πολύ πιθανό. Ας πούμε απλά λοιπόν ότι είχα και καλή παρέα...

Imagine if you will, yourself nearly having melded with the comfy couch. That delicious hunk o'ham sitting on the coffee table. You cut off a new slice whenever your stomach manages to digest even the tiniest bit of what you've previously put in it. Aliens plays on the huge-ass widescreen TV. And as the Xenomorph Queen menaces über-hot '80s Sigourney-Waver, you think "You know what? I actually am quite thankful this year. Definitely better off than Ripley" And then you burp.

Queen Hungry

And then there's apple pie and ice cream.

Καλά, δεν περιγράφονται τα Αμερικάνικα πάηζ!

Sugary delight for $18.95.

Ααααχ...

So, how are you?

+/-

I'm negative.

Negative?

I'm a negative person. I'm the one who's gonna tell you "Don't do that", "Don't take that risk", "Are you a moron?!" I'll tell you what not to do and I'll be right and you won't listen to me and you'll make the mistake and then -the fifth time- you might learn and won't make the same mistake again and move on to the next one...

Τρία μπουκάλια κρασί, μη μου το κρατήσετε - θα μου το κρατήσετε; Κι εκπληκτικό φαγητό! Και ο ειρμός μου χαμένος. Τι έλεγα; Τι θέλω να πω; Πω πω, το Πράηβετ Πράκτις είναι τρελή μούφα - θα μπορέσω να γράψω κάποτε έστω για κάτι τέτοιο; Είναι άγρια τα πράγματα εδώ. Με νύχια και με δόντια όλοι πολεμούν να πιάσουν το "μπιγκ μπρέηκ", να μπουν.

The only reason I can tell you this stuff, the only reason I am right, is because I'm wrong. I'm wrong about every choice I make for myself, every day, every second. What I eat, the clothes I wear, how I spend my money - all wrong choices. Getting the right combo down is a happy coincidence but merely that. When things go right, it means that a stroke of electrons has sparked serendipitously. There's nothing more.

Nothing more?

Το μόνο που με κρατάει είναι ένα αίσθημα σιγουριάς. Δεν είναι ότι πιστεύω ότι θα τα καταφέρω, δεν είναι ότι νομίζω ότι θα γίνει. Αη νόου, γιου γκάηζ! Δε γίνεται να μην.

It's like reality contestants. No, go with me, here... A good reality show's most absurd and ridiculous the more of an accurate study it is of the human condition. You've seen the Next Top Model shows, right? The contestants, they're all convinced that they deserve the prize. Each believes that she wants it more than the rest. She believes that is what gets you the win - wanting it. But it's not. What gets the win is chance.

Τι παραλήρημα κι αυτό... Νιώθω σα να γράφω για τον εαυτό μου και μόνο αλλά ταυτόχρονα υπάρχει κάτι που θέλω να πω. Ο Κόλιε Στρονγκ, είναι γκομενάκι; Έχω το φινάλε του Πρότζεκτ Ράνουεη στο πλάι - δε θα σας πω ποιος κερδίζει, μην ανησυχείτε. Αλλά το ερώτημα είναι σημαντικό.

Am I ignoring hard work? Noooooo. Of course not. But you guys, -seriously, you guys- it is not the most important thing. You can work as hard as you possibly can, you can work harder than anyone else. But if you don't get that one chance, if The Break doesn't happen? Holmes, you fucked. Ain't no Watson gonna save you.

So, then, what do you do?

Τι κάνεις όταν δε σε θέλουν για το Θα Πεις Και Ένα Τραγούδι: Κάουν'τρυ Εντίσιον; Άσχετο; Φαινομενικά.

The other day we went tried to get in the background audience for Singing Bee, with a friend. (He's becoming a friend, I'm real happy about that). They took him, they didn't take me, so...

Αφότου ξεπέρασα τη βαριά κατάθλιψη που δε με πήρανε, πήγα σινεμά.

I watched Precious.

Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire

It was exceptional! Anything that in another film would make you think "Yeah, right. Pull the other one" Precious makes you buy. The performances are breathtaking.

Literally, you'll find yourself not breathing waiting for that one move, or that one line to come. At other times, you're gonna be left breathless like what's happening has taken form and kicked you in the gut.

Lee Daniels even gets a good performance out of Mariah Carey. Mariah Freakin' Carey, you guys. Who, if she shut up about the uglifying they did on her, would have an even more fascinating and commendable performance on her hands.

The kudos go to Daniels, though. It's shocking how easy it is to watch Precious. It shouldn't be. But the electrons sparked and each choice -in casting, in acting, in direction- each line couldn't be different, couldn't be better.

Really?

Really.

Δεν πρόκειται να γίνω τέτοιος ωτέρ, ούτε αστέρας. Αλλά έχω την ευκαιρία να γίνω ένας καλός σεναριογράφος. Είναι εδώ, συμβαίνει. Οπότε δεν είναι θέμα θέλησης, ή προσπάθειας. Αυτά είναι κομμάτια άλλης ιστορίας. Αυτή η ιστορία, η εδώ, είναι μόνο θέμα χρόνου.

Fuck sentimentality, OK? That's what Precious does so well. Unlike many others, it's a film that doesn't try to make you cry for its heroine. In fact, it challenges you not to. "Come on, motherfucker - don't be touched. Dare to not be touched". So, fuck sentimentality and just look at it pragmatically: The longest journey does start with a single step. And then there's a billion others that you need to take, as much as that first one.

"The longest journey starts with a single step", I said that. Also, the Chinese.

Walking away from the cinema I came across Out of the Closet and right at its window was a big, bright, brilliant neon sign: FREE HIV TESTING. I was gonna get food and go for a second movie. I hadn't had anything but a bowl of cereal since the morning - that happens a lot when I'm immersed in writing- and Fantastic Mr. Fox was out. But I went.

"Ιμέρσντ ιν ράητινκγ" τι λέω ο άνθρωπος; Φτάνουμε όμως. Φτάνουμε.

If you've had an HIV test, you know the mouth-drying, hand-freezing nervousness that is the wait. If you've been careful, a single broken condom can shatter the shield of safety you've diligently built. In turn, you break into a cold sweat in the waiting room, you may even moisten your chair. And if you've been foolish, taking risks for reasons too asinine to go into, then you deserve the nervousness. You deserve the sweat.

It only takes one time. One moment for things to go wrong, one to go right. It's not about wanting it enough, it's not about believing. It's about knowing. You gotta know you won't not make it. You gotta be positive you're negative.

I'm negative. I came out of Out of the Closet, my results in hand, green sticker on them. I donated $50 to the testing center, I had a $50 lunch, I went to Borders and bought six books and two DVDs. Money is tight. Υeah. And? So what? I was alive, healthy, lucky.

Things are breaking down all around us: car accidents, cancer, The Crisis. But look close and tell me, really, what wins...

I'm not dead, I'm not sick, I'm not broke.



Get strength from the things you have escaped, rejoice in not being unlucky, worship the chances that haven't passed you by.

You gotta be negative to be positive.

Chew!

I flew today. Various crappy things happened, also. We went to Universal Studios today. That was of the good. It was Kelly's last day today. That's a bit of a mood killer rounding up a streak of brilliant days.

Spending these past few days with Kelly, some random things popped in my head. More often than not they would be the same things that popped in Kelly's and we'd say them at the same time and laugh -oh, how we'd laugh!

But, apart from starring in a tampon commercial, we also roamed. We went to Hollywood Boulevard and Venice Beach and the aforementioned Studios. In our 5 days together I've seen more of this city than I have in my 2 months here.

And, on our sightseeing tours, I had a great time. Relaxed and groovy, full enough but not too much, our days were. It was nice: the thinking in tandem and speaking in sync (mostly about cigarettes). It was very comfortable. Very Home.

Not that I wasn't grumpy when I got hungry or did not shut down at the end of a long day. To be honest, that's probably what proves the theory that I felt at home. I can only hope that Kelly's used to her house being filled with surly people.

Trips are weird things. Vacation Versus Holiday has rocked many a friendship. But for me it was good and at the end of the month I'll eat a whole turkey and burp out just how thankful I am for Kelly's visit to LaLa Land.

The Random Things That Popped In My Head:

1. I need to write here more often.
2. I need to write here more concisely.
3. I need to write for the course more often.
4. I need to stop using the "pressure makes me write better" logic to procrastinate.
5. Yes, even if it's true.
6. Man, I love Wendy's!

A 16-year-old boy was got a head injury during a football game. He was in a coma today. Another, younger one, got away with just a concussion. A third disappeared. All these things happened, right here, in L.A..

From my list of randoms probably nothing will come to pass. Except that I always have and always will love Wendy's. Do you remember how their buns taste?

They have this special taste. They're more like natural bread and less at the same time. Their meat is meatier, their lettuce lettucier. Their ketchup less like water. When you bite into that triple (oh yeah!) decker burger the pleasure is sublime.

But then you hit those little bits of fat, or whatever the fuck they are. They feel like they so shouldn't be there. Are they... bones? WTF are they doing in your burger? That's not how it's supposed to be.

But there they are and they make you feel sick to your stomach. That's how the process starts, that takes you from the high of eating fast food to the low of digesting it. What can you do but take both in?

That's how it is. The delicious patty is ridden with little fatty bone fragments. And you can't be mad at them, 'cause they just are. They are just there, part of the fabric. Waiting to play out. It's just that sometimes they come out in clusters.

Just roll with it. Chew!

Today, meaning yesterday -meaning the 1st of this November, 2009- Qian Xuesen died at 98; he was a rocket scientist. I flew today.

And I got blisters today from my new shoes. See? It's a mix.

Stolen Letters: VanVan

Non-Greek speakers, have fun with Babel Fish!

My dearest VanVan,

Σου 'χω υποσχεθεί νέα. Ετοιμάσου. Θα σου πω πως πέρασα τα τελευταία Σαββατοκυριακά μου.

Flashback - Παρασκευή 16 Οκτωβρίου, 2009:

Δειλά-δειλά έκανα ένα ανοιγματάκι προς φιλικές σχέσεις με τα παιδιά του μαθήματος. Έτσι βρέθηκα βράδυ Παρασκευής στο life. Ένα μπαράκι του κώλου ήταν κι όπως αποδείχτηκε και ψιλοκωλόμπαρο. Είχε ελάχιστο κόσμο κι η μουσική ξεκίνησε από Billie Jean. Έλεγα από μέσα μου: "Ωχ. Εδώ θα τ' αφήσω κι εγώ τα κοκαλάκια μου"...

Είχαμε βγει για τσιγάρο με έναν τύπο που δεν έλεγε να βάλει γλώσσα μέσα για την "καριέρα του" στη "φωτογραφία". Στα δεξιά μου μια κοντή, ντυμένη γάτα, ξέρναγε. Στα αριστερά μου μια στραβή νοσοκόμα έψαχνε τα γυαλιά της και μια άσχημη βαμπίρα κυλιότανε στο πάτωμα. Ρωτάω κι εγώ ο καψερός "γενικά, οι εμφανίσεις του Halloween, είναι πάντα τόσο ρισκέ;" Γάμπες και βυζιά παντού, μόνο τα κωλοφάροδουλα τους δε μας είχανε προτείνει οι σειρήνες.

Ο "φωτογράφος" χασκογέλασε. "Ναι" μου λέει, "κατά κανόνα" (πωπώ το'χω χάσει με αυτά " τα τετοιάααακια. Που τα βάζεις που δεν τα βάζεις;) "Ναι" μου λέει, τελος πάντων, και μου εξηγεί: η σύζυγος του ιδιοκτήτη του μαγαζιού ήτο πρώην Playboy Bunny . Έτσι και η πλειοψηφία των καλεσμένων -οι φίλες της- τύχαινε να είναι στριπτηζέζ. Στριπτηζέζ με τη βούλα! Πιθανώς στο φαρδοκάπουλο.

Έστι μου 'σκασε κι εμένα ότι οι Ασιάτισσες κοπελιές γύρω, που για να βρεις τη φάτσα τους κάτω από το makeup ήθελες βυθομέτρηση, με τις μπλούζες Hooters ... μάλλον δεν είχανε ντυθεί για τις Αποκριές. Απλά, ήρθανε στο life κατευθείαν από τη δουλειά.

How is she? No relation.

Όταν εμφανίστηκε δε ένας τύπος που άρχισε να λέει ότι ανησυχεί με τη γκόμενα που πηδάει -όχι ότι πάει να σοβαρέψει το πράμα ή κάτι τέτοιο- επειδή είναι Το Κορίτσι μικρομαφιόζου, ε... Δεν υπάρχουν αρκετά αποσιωπητικά στον κόσμο. Ό,τι ευχή και προσευχή είχα ξεχάσει τις έκανα εκεί και τότε. Λες και δεν έφτανε το ότι είχα βρεθεί με τους πιο άσχετους ανθρώπους που ήταν δυνατόν -όχι, πες μου ποιοι θα μου 'ταν πιο άσχετοι- τώρα μπλέκουμε και με το οργανωμένο (μικρο)έγκλημα;!

Για να μη στα πολυλέω, την κάναμε κατά τη μιάμιση. Αλλά τότε συνέβη κάτι απροσδόκητο. Φεύγοντας από το μπαρ, ο φλύαρος φωτογράφος, ο πηδέας της μαφιόζας, μια go-go dancer και η μόνη Κινέζα πάνω από ένα πενήντα (παίζει να 'ταν και ψηλότερη από 'μένα) μας κάλεσαν στο σπίτι τους. Να 'ταν οι τρεις Bud Light να 'ταν η ανάγκη, που μέχρι τότε ήμουν κλεισμένος μες στο σπίτι; Πήγαμε.

Μερικά σφηνάκια τεκίλα αργότερα, βλέπαμε όλοι παρέα το αριστούργημα Exit Wounds με το Steven Seagal. Ο άνθρωπός είναι μονίμως συνοφρυωμένος, το 'χεις προσέξει; I guess that's what happens when you have to kick so much ass. Δεν μπορεί να μην τον ξέρεις! Μεταξύ STAR και ΑΝΤ1, η Ελλάδα έχει χαρεί όλο του το oeuvre.

Steven Seagal: The Raisins' girls approve!

Στο δρόμο για τ' αμάξι έγινε το ωραιότερο. Όλο το βράδυ σχολιάζαμε τα γύρω μας με τον -ας πούμε- Kappie, τον τύπο από το μάθημα. Αναπόφευκτα η συζήτηση πήγαινε στις διάφορες "γκόμενες" που κυκλοφορούσαν. Με ρώτησε αν είναι hot η συγκάτοικος μου (που παρεμπιπτόντως είναι Μoροκανή τελικά κι απλά ζει στη Γαλλία...), αν η φίλη που 'ρχεται τώρα είναι ωραία (ναι και ναι οι απαντήσεις, by the way).

Και κάθε φορά που απαντούσα και σχολίαζα -πάντα ειλικρινά- ένιωθα λίγο τύψεις ότι τον παραπλανώ, ότι του δίνω μια λανθασμένη εντύπωση για το ποιος είμαι χωρίς να το θέλω και χωρίς να είναι λανθασμένη η εντύπωση!

Βγάζει νόημα, δε βγάζει;

Στο δρόμο για τ' αμάξι, λοιπόν, μ' ενίσχυση τεκίλα και δυο τζούρες Smiley Face, πάρε σκηνή:

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

GIO is practically skipping - he's a lightweight. KAPPIE's more subdued but in a pleasant relaxed way.

GIO
Dude. That was good stuff. I mean, I'm buzzed man!

KAPPIE
Really? I'm OK.

GIO
Yes! But not. In a good way! I'm easy. And you're driving.

ALEX
Truth.

A beat. Then:

GIO
You do realize I'm gay, right?

KAPPIE
Yes. I mean, yeah.

GIO
Oh good! 'Cause I wasn't sure.

And scene! Only not, because then came the real good part: με ρώτησε αν είχα την ανάγκη να το πω κι έτσι ανοίξαμε μια συζήτηση για:

1. τα καινούρια περιβάλλοντα και πως αλλάζουν οι κανόνες,
2. τη διαφορά μεταξύ της εμφανούς διαφορετικότητας με την αόρατη,
3. την ύπαρξη και των δύο κατηγοριών μέσα στο ουράνιο τόξο τον ομοφυλοφίλων,
4. το φάσμα της σεξουαλικότητας
   
5. τη θρησκευτική προκατάληψη και
   
6. την προκατάληψη ενάντια στη θρησκεία.

Ως Εβραίος -που δεν είχα πάρει χαμπάρι- he could relate, κι ως seemingly genuinely good guy he could talk about it. And it was awesome. Όχι, γιατί μου καίγεται καρφί για σπουδαίες συζητήσεις. Πάντα θα υπάρχουν και μπράβο τους. Αλλά εκείνη τη στιγμή, μετά από αυτήν την περίεργη νύχτα, ήμουν ιπτάμενος, σε μια τέτοια συζήτηση και ανοιχτός... κι ένιωσα ο εαυτός μου.

Ένιωσα σα να ήμασταν στην ταράτσα σου. Ξαπλωμένοι στον καναπέ. Πόδια-κεφάλι, κεφάλι-πόδια. Γύρω μας όλοι. Ήταν σαν κάποιος να μου εξηγούσε πως δουλεύουν όλα. That you can be happy, that time and space mean nothing. Ήταν σαν κάποιος να μου έφτιαχνε το δικό μου προσωπικό ρολόι, που θα τρέχει στο δικό μου ρυθμό. Σα να 'χα δεκατρείς ζωές ταυτόχρονα. Ήμουν ο Doctor Who!



Είχα σκοπό να γράψω κι άλλα, αρκετά. Αλλά κι ο χρόνος να μη σημαίνει τίποτα, η ώρα έχει πάει τέσσερις, κι αυτό έχει σημασία... Νομίζω, το 'χεις όμως, ε; Ό,τι άλλο πω θα 'ταν πολύ και περιττό. Σ' αρέσει η ρίμα μου; Την κάνω τέτοιες ώρες. Έχω κάτι επιφοιτήσεις που και που εδώ στα ξένα. Θα στα πω όλα. Eventually. Αλώστε τι είναι πιο εγώ από το να ξεκινάω να σου εξιστορήσω δυο Σαββατοκύριακα και να μένω στην Παρασκευή;

Rendez-vous στο Skype.

Gay Panic

"Aaaaargh!" I believe, goes the expression. I am so crap in front of crowds! We were called on to stand up in front of the roughly 80-person lecture class and pitch the scripts we are currently working on, in one logline. And, well... I kinda shit the bed on this one. (Hey, Greeks! Know that expression? Add it to your English vocabulary right now).

Φανταστείτε το: δεν έχω συνειδητοποιήσει ότι θα σηκωθούμε να μιλήσουμε μπροστά σε όλους. Φεύγωντας βιαστικά από το σπίτι, έχω βάλει κάτι που θα φόραγα για ΜαηΜπάρ. Κραυγαλέο, να το πω; Το θέμα είναι ότι λέει "καμ φακ μη", όχι "μπάη μάη σκριπτ". Ο λόγος που έφυγα βιαστικά; Ήθελα να προλάβω να φάω ένα σάντουιτς παγωτό από το Ντίντυ Ρης. Οπότε, είμαι γεμάτος βούτυρο και ζάχαρη, αγχώνομαι που θα σηκωθώ μπροστά στον καθηγητή και τους 80, όλο και περισσότερο... αλλά λέω "Έχω τουλάχιστο δυνατό κόνσεπτ". "Θα το απαγγείλω βροντοφωναχτά, θα πει 'Οκέη', θα τελειώσει εκεί το ζήτημα", λέω. ΛΕΩ.

So, called upon I was, and things went exactly like you'd think. I was the first person in the class whose concept was greeted with sheer incomprehension. If Hal didn't actually use the words "What the fuck are you talking about?" his face sure did. A leg-trembling, 5-minute interrogation session later, I was able to sit down - my seatmates taking out marshmallows on sticks to roast against my cheeks.

The contents of my brain when I was called on.
Also, the pattern of my shirt.

Το ψευτοτραγικό της υπόθεσης ήταν η αντίδραση μου. Το παίζω δασκαλάκος φοβερός και τρομερός, μαθημένος από 3 χρόνια σε εταιρεία παραγωγής (ονόματα δε λέμε, υπολήψεις δε θίγουμε - Γεια σου, Καγιαλίνα!). Έχω μάθει να κάνω εποικοδομητική κριτική με όσο το δυνατό μικρότερο πλήγμα στην ψυχική κατάσταση του συγγραφέως που κρίνεται. Έλα όμως που ακόμα δεν το 'χω να επεξεργάζομαι αντίστοιχα τα εισερχόμενα σχόλια και δη όταν γίνονται μπροστά σε πλήθος!

Naturally, it took until my blushing had cooled down -around 30 to 45 minutes depending on room temperature- for my thoughts to do the same. Of course I wasn't the first to get a strong negative reaction. That's just how it felt, especially since I'd done a spectacular job of psyching myself out while waiting for my turn to speak. It wasn't even negative per se. I had just been called out for not representing myself to the best of my ability and rightfully so.

Ας είμαστε δίκαιοι άλλωστε. Που δεν ξέρασα το παγωτό, για παράδειγμα, ήταν μια νίκη.

There followed the bout of obligatory, in-class "Feck, I don't think I can do this". We then went on to see the openings of Little Miss Sunshine, Fargo, Casino Royale (2006) and The Squid and The Whale. These were meant to prep us for the awesome assignment of the coming Monday and fully brought me back to my senses.

Μην αγχωθέι κανείς! Δε με χάνει το Χόλυγουντ.

If the list of Things I Have Done That Still Make Me Cringe had a scale to go with it, then the above events would rank about a three. The following float at around four. It was our first writing assignment and I thought I was being daring in choosing to write this story. But after completing it, I realised, the cringe factor is not in the present.

Ουουου. Τι λέει ο τυυυύποοοοοος.

What called to me was the, then unprecedented, intense feeling of shame. It reverberates to now from the past but, really, I'm over this. Much unlike I'm over That First Script. The eyerolls every time I think about writing it are epic in power and proportion. Every single time, I cringe retroactively with 5 years' worth of shame. But this one... this one has me feeling kinda proud!

Η υπόσχεση του να βρεθεί μια καλύτερη ισορροπία σε αυτό το μπλογκ προφανώς δεν έχει πραγματωθεί ακόμα αλλά ισχύει. Άσχετο μεν αλλά είπα να το υπενθυμίσω. Προς το παρόν έχετε να αντιμετωπίσετε την ανισορροπία ενόπιων σας. Τα συλλυπητήριά μου.

The only thing I'm changing from what I submitted to the course are other people's names. They might not be as pleased as I, with the particular story. So, while I go figure out how to reshape and salvage the broken pieces of my script's crushed hull, give this little tale a gander. And, hopefully, enjoy:

Pinocchia

In sixth grade, my best friend was Tom Haverford. He had a house in Ekali (a very lavish suburb of Athens) and an identical twin (with only a mole's difference)! Tom and I were on the basketball team together. He had gone steady with Leslie and I followed suit with her best friend.

When I stayed over at his, we would go to a far away kiosk, using the excuse of walking the Haverfords' dogs. There, I would distract the owner by buying gum or Kinder chocolate. Meanwhile, Tom stole porno magazines from off the stands, behind the kiosk guy's back.

He would stash the magazines under his shirt, held steady by his boxers and, acting cool, we would walk back to the house in a secret rush of excitement. The dogs were none the wiser.

A large coat closet housed our hidden hours. We would go there with the magazines and leaf through them and laugh. We laughed more than you'd think, while looking at naked women and touching our weiners (each his own) inside our sweatpants. We also made prank calls.

But there were some things that Tom wouldn't understand. Like how I felt uncomfortable pulling the pranks, or how I might like to steal a different kind of porno. In fact, I had taken a shine to a magazine I saw at the kiosk closest to my house: Pinocchia.

Pinocchia was a puppet. A life-size woman puppet that came alive when her creator/father fucked her. She sat poised on the comic's cover, kneeling on top of a work bench, her back straight. She was surrounded by toy trains, tools and tiny soldiers that peered at her nakedness; her full breasts, a shade lighter than the rest of her. And, when she'd tell a lie, those breasts would become bigger!

I was determined to have her. I vacillated for a long time, I was scared. I must have walked by that kiosk, back and forth, a hundred times. Looking back on it, that's probably what tipped the guy off. Because, of course, when I did dare to nick Pinocchia and stuff her in my pants, I felt a burly arm grab mine. Shouting came at me like a gust of moist hot air, dishwasher-like, and that was it.

The next thing I remember, I was in my mother's bed, crying. I have a recollection of running away from the kiosk in tears, but how I got away I have no clue. My mother found me there. She coaxed me into telling her what had happened, and I, embellishing how awful and violent the kiosk guy had been, eventually did tell her the whole story. I'm sure at the time I believed it.

She listened to me bawl and sob and stutter and when I was done with my piece, my mother asked: “Agapi mou, why didn't you just buy it?” I broke into a new round of histrionics. The reasons were plentiful: What would the kiosk guy think if I bought porn from him? And Pinocchia?! He was so close to home! “DREPOMOUNA”.

In Greek, there's only one word that stands for both “embarrassed” and “ashamed”. I was embarrassed for being caught, I was ashamed beyond belief that I wanted Pinocchia: drepomouna. My mother left the room without another word. I sat sprawled on the bed, dripping snot – perturbed but waiting. Ten minutes later mum was back, and in her hands, she had Pinocchia.

I went on to become more daring in my stealing ways, but also more strategic. I scoped places out, I calculated customer traffic. I had a special, discreet backpack in which I could slip things, at the right moments. And then I'd go ahead and a buy a pop or ice cream from the very same kiosk.

I never bought straight porn. I only ever stole it. Which I kept doing when I went on to naked men (rationalising back then that I was just excited at the idea of the sexual act, no matter that there were no such depictions in these magazines). But at some point, I did dare to buy gay. Eyes downcast, trembling from head to tippy-toe, making sure only the back cover of the magazine was visible to kiosk guys. But I did buy it.

The guilt didn't go away. But the magazines did. Every now and then, I would go into a shame spiral and throw them out the bathroom window. They'd land somewhere in our apartment building's boiler room with a wet “floop” sound. And though I did try to find out where they ended up, I didn't manage to, and never saw any of the departed porn ever again. Not even the VHS tapes.

Still, I think Pinocchia must have made an impact. I feel a pang when I think she managed to become a real girl, only to be thrown out a window on one of my, many, manic bouts of guilt...

When I told my mother about me, it came spontaneously, while I was breaking down about something else entirely. Mothers know - you know they know. And the time before I had it said, when I had waited and waited, I knew even then -she has made sure I knew- that it was not for her. It wasn't mum who wasn't ready.



Want a Pinocchia of your own?

Smokin' TV: Sunday

I've almost quit smoking. It's come to the point when a cigarette, lack of food and a well-timed beer have me flying high in the skies of dizziness. A pack a week is relatively close to having quit, is it not? "No" you say? "Deluded hypocrite" you shout? You would not trust me as far you could throw me? Feh and tough titties ladies and gents, because I am here to share my opinion on what you should watch Northern-American-TV-wise. And, conversely to my unwise decision-making when it comes to smoking, drinking and most of my sexual partners, I actually know my shit when it comes to television.



Brilliant segue, right? I know. Let's jump right in!

Sunday

The Simpsons / The Cleveland Show / Family Guy / American Dad: Taking a cue from the The A.V. Club, I've blocked FOX's "Animation Domination" into one entry. The quick and short of it is this: The Simpsons has been tired for years now - if you haven't been watching there's no reason to start. The Cleveland Show is better than a Season 8 (9? 24?) Family Guy spinoff has any right to be. If you're a fan of the latter feel free to spend 20-something minutes of your Sunday on the former. And if you roll during Cleveland you'll be all nice & stoned and set for Family Guy. But the one show to which you must give an extra chance -and I know many of you have not- is American Dad. Smart, timely and with its own spin on the cutaway gag format, that keeps them attached to the story even in their most absurd expressions. Plus, the most well-formed characters in animation this side of Daria.

Desperate Housewives: Jumping to ABC and the DH / B&S block, this show has so far been on a streak not seen since the heyday of Season 1. While Susan has become a full-on despicable character (losing whatever redeeming qualities she may have had) Teri Hatcher is playing the shit out of the part. Likewise, Huffman, Longoria and Cross are all getting equal and equally fertile material to play, as Lynnette, Gabrielle and Bree. Even Dana Delany's role in the show has taken a turn. While Katherine's life is more pathetic than any housewife we've seen before, Delany's thrown herself into the part with mesmerising abandon, rounding up the makes of a most interesting season. Plus? Drea de Matteo.

She was Joey's sister, you guys!

Brothers and Sisters: Do you like crying at late hours of the night? Do you enjoy tears streaming down your face and blurring up your glasses? Then this season of Brothers and Sisters is exactly what you need. Due to a specific development ZOMG! KITTY HAS CANCER! Calista Flockhart's getting to use her pout to its best snivelling advantage. Meanwhile, the ramifications this has on the rest of the family are a wonder to watch. Sally Field (Nora) is heartbreaking to a degree that only she or a real mother could be, Matthew Rhys (Kevin) has put his big Welsh blues to their best wet use, while Rob Lowe (Senator Orange) is proving that he's more than Alec Baldwin's mancrush (2:49). And we haven't even gotten to see Rachel Griffiths interact with the whole situation since Sara just got back from Paris bringing this back with her. Use all the Ojai scenes to replenish the tissue supply and this is the show for you.

Nora can't handle all these spoilers.

Dexter: I was really sad to realise that Dexter had been cancelled. Fortunately, a spinoff has taken its timeslot on Showtime. While it may not be the original, it is interesting enough in its own right. John Lightgow is magnificently creepy as the new serial killer in town, while Keith Carradine is back with more great work as agent Lundy. The principal actors are, of course, excellent as always and there's a lot of good character work being done on all fronts. It's just a bit jarring that there's room for that, when the original series has so excellently kept Dexter as the center of the narrative, thus shading his conventional Procedural surroundings with some added interest-- What? Dexter hasn't been cancelled?! When the best part of your show are the guest stars, you may wanna recalibrate is all I'm saying.

Mad Men: This show is too smart for me to analyse in any way that would do it justice. Nor can I get it new viewers by convincing you, you oughta be watchin' it. What I can do is appeal to your baser instincts, thusly:

January Jones is Betty Draper.

John Hamm is Don Draper.

Christina Hendricks is the hottest woman of all time.

Bam! Appealed.

And also, sometimes, this guy is around:


Oh, ass. I think I'm sober, now.

This feature will continue whenever I am drunk and until all days of the week are covered. For the time being, it's just the shows I watch and can talk about (duh) but if I get drunk enough I may jump onto others. If you don't wanna read this self-indulgent blog you don't have to - there are always alternatives.

Whining and Dining (pt. 2)

Starting this at 02:10 a.m. as I am -and unless any astrophysicists have an objection- I am for the first and only time, exactly 24 years old. I was born in Oakland, CA on the 11th of October 1985 at, you guessed it, ten past two in the morning. Bravo monkey, you can read! 24 years later, I find myself in the same timezone as the one I was born, for the first time since my 1st birthday...

Τα γενέθλια στην Αμερική είναι μεγάλο ντήλι. Δεν είχα ποτέ πλήρη αίσθηση όσο ήμουν στην Ελλάδα του πόσο ασήμαντα είναι για εμάς. Τους Έλληνες λέω. Εμείς δίνουμε περισσότερη βάση στις ονομαστικές εορτές; Κάτι τέτοιο έχω ακουστά. Μη με ρωτάτε, δεν ξέρω. Εγώ πήγαινα δουλειά αμέριμνος -δίχως γλυκά- 25 Απριλίου κι υπόλοιποι με ενημέρωναν, κοιτώντας με με στραβό μάτι...

What are you looking at? What d'you wanna know? What have I been doing the past 23 years? It's been eventful, I'll be honest. Which is also why I can't say that this is the best story that will ever be told. But it is a good one. There's sex and intrigue and drugs and backstabbing. So far no murders. But we're working on that. The world keeps trying to piss me off on a daily basis.

Και πως είναι που τώρα, εδώ που 'ναι μπιγκ ντήαλ, δεν είμαι εγώ; Πως είναι που δεν είσαστε εδώ εσείς; Που δεν πρόκειται ούτε να βγω, ούτε να πιω, ούτε και να μεθύσω; Θα 'θελα να μπω στην πρίζα και να τα κάνω κομμάτια, δεν μπορώ να πω. Αν έπεφταν μερικά μαδερφάκερ δε θα ήταν άσχημο. Κι αν πάλι τύχαινε να καθόμουν απ 'έξω από μια εκκλησία -σαν παπάς με το αγαπημένο του θυμιατό- μαζί με όλη μου την ενορία, δε θα με πείραζε.

Nobody walks in L.A., they say, but I do. And I see others walking. There are people in the streets! Honest. I don't think they're going anywhere, just on strolls. You'd be mad to want to walk to somewhere in this town. But I do. And I'm not mad. Not crazy/mad. Yes, the angry kind, some times and often. But I won't pretend to be mad-mad. There's only sanity here and too much of it. Too much thought and gravitas. Like a LiveJournalist that forgot to do his whining in his teens.

Πόσες φορές έχουμε πει να σταματήσουμε να γκρινιάζουμε; Και πόσες φορές έχουμε πει πώς έιναι αναγκαίο; "Μη σταματάς να γκρινιάζεις, σταμάτα να γκρινιάζεις που γκρινιάζεις." Το βλέπω σαν μπροστά μου: ένα παράπονο που ξεκινάει ένρινο και μελαγχολικό. Με κάθε τζιν που ανοίγει, γλυκαίνει από την πίκρα. Ξημερώματα περνάμε από τα Μακ.

At 24, I have these weird huge pores at the end of my nose that threaten to engulf it. My body hair is sneakily spreading its way across new terrain. A decade of unruly strings rests on each shoulder, mocking me with their slim but distinct presence. I got a haircut today. The for the head kind. I'm disappointed.

Δεν έχει να φάω μαστέλο με μέλι. Ή, και να'χει, έρχεται σε διπλή μερίδα - που να το βάλω τόσο σουσάμι; Μη μιλήσεις! Μην πεις τίποτα! Και πάνω απ' όλα μη με γαργαλήσεις, θα σε γαμήσω.

I'm fuckless and friendless. My body is preemptively decomposing -gotta catch up on death, always in a rush. And I don't have the hair that I do want!

Θέλω ένα ακόμα μεσημέρι, απ' έξω από το Μπενάκη. Θα αργήσεις, θα καεί ο κώλος μου στο μέταλλο, να σε περιμένω κάτω από εκείνο το τετοιακί που 'ναι σα φανάρι και γυρίζει, ξέρεις.

I spent today with my 15-year-old cousin. We went to the cinema, we ate concession stand and frozen and microwave foods, we played video games and watched TV all day. Whoop-de-doo, I hear you say?

Πως μύριζε η ανάσα σου όταν ερχόσουν ξημερώματα στο δωμάτιο...

Well, I liked it! The Invention of Lying was a little stroke of brilliance. Pretzels and Mac & Cheese and chocolate brownie ice cream bonbons, Castle Crashers and Alien Hominid are an astounding accompaniment. And if you don't understand this, if you don't get this at all, you don't have to. I do. (But, really, how can you deny Spaced)?

Αυτό το καλοκαίρι μπορεί να μην άφησε Έλλη Κοκκίνου (αγάπη μου) ως σάουντρακ αλλά έφερε κάτι καλύτερο. Όχι, δε λέω το Δεσποινάκι και ΥΠΑΡΧΕΙ ΖΩΗ (ΤΟΥΡΟΥ ΡΟΥ ΡΟΥ) στη διαπασών, προς Αλλού Φαν Παρκ και Επίδαυρο εξίσου. Κατάλαβα τα πάντα.

At 24, I have no shame. None in playing the games, none in burning in them, none whining and dining to my heart's gluttonous content. I'm single and, for the first time in my adult life, I don't feel the crippling need to not be. I've left my home again -this time we're going for "for good"- and behind people that I wouldn't call friends but family. And you can start laughing now, because, I'm not taking it back. Because the most important thing I learnt all summer (and these 24 years) was this feeling. That thing I ridiculed before, this earnestness, the belief in some sort of magic.

Λυπάμαι αν σε πλήγωσα. Ιδιαίτερα επειδή ξέσπασα πάνω σου, επειδή έβλεπες τα πράματα αντίθετα από 'μενα, επειδή με θύμωνες, επειδή μου θύμιζες πως δεν είναι ο κόσμος.

Let's not get retarded. Any kind of magic I believe in is strictly metaphorical. But it is real. The fact that this is my voice, doesn't bother me. It's treacly sentimental still but I'm getting better. I'm learning and I'm growing and I change. The haircut will never be an ICON haircut but I'll go back and tell them better what I want. Hairy situations? Wax on / wax off. Bad puns? My bread and butter! As for the pores? Eh. Can't have everything. It's not that I couldn't be happier, but I am perfectly happy.

Σκεφτόμουν μήπως ήρθε η ώρα να κάνω κι εγώ δέυτερο τατού. Θέλω να σημαίνει κάτι που, κι όταν κρεμάσουν τα πάντα- θα κρατήσει, όπως σου 'λεγα. Έλα όμως που Κυψέλη-Καρύτση-Καλλιθέα κάνουν ένα επικύνδυνα ΚΚΚ σχέδιο. Μην ξεχνάμε και που είμαι. Είπαμε, δεν μπορείς να τα έχεις όλα.

Finishing this at 04:59 a.m. as I am -and unless any astrophysicists still have objections- I am for the first and only time, exactly 24 years, 2 hours and 49 minutes old. I'm back in the States for the first time since I was born. I'm finally studying screenwriting and at UCLA, at that. I am, for all intents and purposes, a Greek bumpkin, seeing this world for the first time. On the flipside -Remember the flipside? This is the flipside!- I'm also an American coming home. It's a new day, either way.

Aν θεωρήσουμε ότι κάθε χρόνος είναι μία ώρα από 24ωρο, μόλις ξεκίνησε η επόμενη μέρα. Κουίζ! Ποιός το 'πε αυτό το ωραίο; Μις Μπήβερχαουζεν; Κερ του γκες;

To move forward one must look back. That's a thing too. Someone's said something like it, at least... I think. Well, welcome to my train-of-thought regression therapy. This blog, where most the contents of my brain spill out for everyone to see and no one to care about. (Twitter is not enough). Join me as I figure out the States, and look back on the fun and fucked up shit that brought me here. There will be lots of writing and I can only promise it will get better from here.

Με άλλα λόγια:

Welcome to the rest of your life, enjoy every minute of it. My ma said that one. And, really guys, that's quite a cool thing for a mom to say.

Dogs and Academia (pt. 1)

Talking about love is like dancing about architecture. Have you seen that film? It was meant to be called Dancing About Architecture but who'd really know what that was about? So they called it Playing By Heart, instead. And they just had a 23-year-old, red-headed Angelina Jolie spout the thesis line right at the beginning. Which, as plans, go is not half bad.

Anyway. In Playing By Heart. Red-headed Angelina Jolie falls for blue-haired Ryan Phillippe (who btw, is Ryan PHIL-ee-pee, apparently. Thanks, youtube, for answering a life-long query). Despite blue-haired Ryan Phillippe's bad case of the gay-face, there's also another teeny thing stopping their love from blossoming: HIV.

[Spoiler Alert].

The above spoiler (highlight to view) is near the only thing missing from the cramazing trailer which just about gives you the entire film in 2'29". Angelina Jolie, Ryan Phillippe, Sean Connery, Gena Rowlands, Gillian Anderson, Jon Stewart, Madeleine Stowe, Dennis Quaid and Anthony Edwards are the so-called star-studded cast. Along with Ellen Burstyn and Jay Mohr, whose storyline (of a mother saying goodbye to her dying son) is the other, conspicuously absent, thing.

The sum comes across as a guilty pleasure of alternately quippy, depressing, charming, HOTT and overwritten parts. I mean, when your synopsis starts: "Eleven articulate people work through affairs of the heart in L.A." you gots problemz.

hott[hɒtt]: adjective, hot⋅ter, hot⋅test, adverb, verb, hot⋅ted, hot⋅ting, noun
–adjective
1. see above.

Το 'χα πρωτοδεί στον ΑΝΤ1 τις τελευταίες μέρες πριν φύγω για Αγγλία. (Ναι, Ελληνικά! Δε θα το γυρίσω τελείως). Οπότε πρέπει να 'ταν 2003. Έτοιμος να την κάνω για σπουδές, πρώτη φορά που αποχωρίζομαι το σπίτι και το φάμιλυ, ξημερώματα... Κλάαααααααμα. Κλάμα με το Τζέη Μορ και την Έλλεν τη Μπέρστιιιιιν. Σπουδαία ηθοποιός. Να δέιτε το Άλις Ντάζν'τ Λιβ Χήαρ Ένημορ - αριστούργημα. Για να 'μαστε ξεκάθαροι, πριν απο αυτό είχα να κλάψω σε ταινία χρόνια. Κυριολεκτικά, χρόνια. Και μ' αυτήν τη μετριότητα το Πλέηνγκ Μπάη Χάρτ, σα ν' άνοιξε ένα φράγμα.

Βάλε κάτι η Αντζελίνα με το Φιλι-ΠΥ κι ο τραγικός τους έρως, βάλε ο αποχαιρετισμός Μορ/Μπέρστην, βάλε και την τρελή ταύτιση του δικού μου του αποχωρισμού με τα πάντα. Κι από τότε ό,τι αρρώστια και χτικιό -αν έχει μέσα γιο και μάνα- εγώ γίνομαι Το Κράηνγκ Πούσυ. Είναι έγκυρη η έκφραση, έχει τη σφραγίδα των Βρυξελλών...

What the fuck was my point? Oh! Right. I love Playing By Heart but for the wrong reasons. It got to me because I was willing -and due to my circumstances so very prone- to take the necessary step. The film doesn't manage to go all the way. It sets a scene, it introduces characters and their situations, exhibits their issues and-- stops. It doesn't reach out to you, pick you up and cradle you in loving arms.

Despite, playing some pretty big, visceral cards (see above SPOILER) Playing By Heart remains clinical in its approach of them. The one exception is obviously the Mohr/Burstyn storyline, which gives the movie the distinct honor of being middling but with moments of magic. Cutting to the chase, that's how my life is at the moment.

Pretty/Dull

Πάρτε για παράδειγμα αυτό εδώ το έν'τρυ. Ξεκίνησα με σκοπό να αποστομώσω αυτούς από εσάς που μου έχετε παραπονεθεί ότι δε στέλνω νέα μου. Ποιοι νομίζετε ότι είστε, κυρίες και κύριοι, να μου ζητάτε -δικαίως- το λόγο, επειδή -πράγματι- εξαφανίζομαι;! ΠΟΙΟΙ; ΕΡΩΤΩ!

Θεωρείστε αυτό το έν'τρυ "Ρόδο" κι απ' ευθείας ακολουθεί το "πήδημα". Όπως λέει κι ο Τζαστ Τζακ στα ακουστικά μου, αη αμ αφρέητν αη σαλ "μπορ γιου του τήερς" (Ωλ Νάητ Σίνεμα, το τραγούδι και το ομώνυμο άλμπουμ). Δεν έχω νέα. Δεν έχω γνωρίσει κανέναν. Είμαι στην προσπάθεια, δηλαδή. Πήρα απόψε μετά τη διάλεξη την Πουλχερία και τον Ιωσήφ. Υποτίθεται ότι θα δω εκείνην την Τετάρτη κι αυτόν την Πέμπτη. Όχι δεν είναι οι φανταστικοί μου φίλοι. Είναι πιθανοί - τους έχω δει μια φορά τον καθένα. Απλά άλλαξα τα ονόματα για λόγους που αυτή τη στιγμή δεν μπορώ να θυμηθώ.

I'm in a fugue state. An attempt to write down my news turns into a review of a decade-old film. And not a very good one. My weekends are filled with calm and placid things. No going out until all hours of the night, no seeing the morning from the wrong side 'round. There's family, there's food and all is kinda limpid. To lead a life of dogs and academia - never would I have guessed, I'd be the one to do it. I had always envied those who had a well-drawn rote, a calm existence. Things are clear, things are working; there is a path. For lack of a better term, it turns out, I am being bo-ring!

Θυμάστε το Φέρμπυ;! Είχατε; Έτσι το 'λεγε: "Μπό-ρινγκ!". Φρικτός ήτανε.

Creepy, mo-lo. YO.

And if it wasn't obvious before, I think it's time for me to go to bed. Something happens during the full moon (night before, night of, night after). I'm already hairy, that doesn't change. But my primal instincts do simmer to the surface. And in my case where "primal" read "whiny" and "also, overly-analytical and bombastic". And "procrastination-y".

Του Σάγκυ το Μπομπάστικ το θυμάστε; Άλλη φρίκη.

PS. Seriously, do an image search for Furby and try not to spend 36 minutes being amazed and horrified. Here, I'll get you started.

Catch you on the flip side, with a more coherent part two.

We Are the Elves

"Once there was shoemaker that worked very hard and was very honest; but his work was too much for just one man and he and his wife struggled. One night, the shoemaker, weak from hunger and frustration, felt his eyes closing. So, he left his materials half-finished -the leather and the cobbles and the laces, all laid out- and with a heavy heart, he went to bed, intending to continue the next day.

When morning broke, the shoemaker was amazed to enter his shop and find a new pair of shoes prepared and waiting for him. It was immaculate! There were no breaks in the leather, no stitching left hanging and all the metal on the shoes gleamed with perfection. The shoemaker couldn't believe his luck. 'The elves must have done me this kindness', he thought. Wanting to see if his good fortune would continue, he worked again all day. And when he could no longer keep his eyes open, he left out his materials half-finished went to bed, atwitter with anticipation of the following dawn.

The next day, the same amazing spectacle greeted the shoemaker. 'The elves must have taken a shine upon me', he thought to himself, and went about his daily work with renewed joy and energy. This routine continued for years one end. With the help of the elves, the shoemaker was able to make ends meet and more even than that! His wife and he were able to live more and more comfortably and even went on to have a house and a child of their own.

One night, his wife could not hold back her curiosity and asked of the shoemaker: 'How is it that you have managed to turn this boat around, homes? We live in such luxury now as we could not before have fathomed. Our son is healthy and well-fed and our house could be on an episode of cribs, fo'sho'! The shoemaker's wife was a very progressive woman. And when the shoemaker told her of the elves and their invaluable help, his wife decided to knit them a pair of little off-the-hook outfits to thank and honor them and so the elves could look fly. She had the yarn 'cause she was making booties for her fat baby, you see..."

When our professor, Hal Ackerman, read this -abridged and heavily paraphrased- fairy tale the Brothers Grimm had written, he was struck with how much he felt like the shoemaker. To see how close the resemblance ran, he worked on his then script all day. And when he couldn't stay up any longer, no matter how much caffeine he imbibed, he left out his pages half-finished and went to bed with a jittery heart, trusting in the elves to help him along his writing way.

The next day, Hal sat at his desk and opened the cover (it was one of those desks that closes, so you can safely leave half-finished stuff in it for elves to take over, and no one is the wiser) and sure enough... the pages were exactly as he had left them the night before.

"We are the elves. Anything that you don't write, will not get written. Is that plain enough?"

Το απόσπασμα αυτό από τη σημερινή μας, πρώτη, διάλεξη είναι χαρακτηριστικό της όλης φάσης. Ο τύπος είναι ημίθεος. Ακόμα κι όταν μας έλεγε να αγοράσουμε το βιβλίο του (που ο μαλάκας πήγα και το πήρα 25 δολλάριο από βιβλιοπωλείο. Να! Ζώον) δε φαινόταν παρτάλι παρά ότι ήθελε να μας βοηθήσει και να μας διευκολύνει με όποιον τρόπο δυνατόν. Συνεχίζω να τρέμω από ενθουσιασμό μέσα στην αίθουσα. Να δούμε πόσο θα κρατήσει αυτό και πότε θ' αρχίσει ο τρόμος για τον όγκο του φόρτου εγασίας μας...

Apart from introducing us to the course in his own special way, Hal gave as an on the spot assignment in the last minutes of class. Write a Cringe List: a series of events and actions you have taken which make you turn scarlet to this day. Volunteers were called upon and some people read their lists to the full auditorium. Those daring enough, spoke to the room's general amusement, guffaws and a couple of awkward silences. I chickened out.

Έχω μεγάλο πρόβλημα με το να μιλήσω μπροστά σε κοινό. Ναι, ναι, ναι, το ξέρω "δε βάζω γλώσσα μέσα", θα μου πείτε. Αλλά αυτό είναι διαφορετικό. Όταν έχω να αντιμετωπίσω ανθρώπους που ξέρω ή μια ομάδα φορμιντάμπλ -8, άντε 10 άτομα- το 'χω. Κάποιοι θέλουν να κυριαρχήσουν και να γίνουν ο αρχηγός της αγέλης. Εγώ είμαι ο λύκος που θέλει να κάνει τους συναγελήτες του ύαινες απ' τα γέλια. Κουτοπόνηρος και χαιρέκακος. Τον αναγνωρίζετε από την επιμελώς ατημέλητη γούνα, μάτι που γυαλίζει και τα σάλια που τρέχουν. Δουλεύει η μεταφορά; Ή είναι παρομοίωση;

Ένηουεη, το πόιν'τ είναι ότι αυτοί που διάβαζαν ήταν κάπως... περήφανοι, γι' αυτά που έλεγαν; Κι έγώ ήμουν σε στυλ "Εεεεε, το νόημα του όλου έξερσαηζ δεν είναι να ντρέπεσαι γι' αυτά που έχεις γράψει;" Δηλαδή, οκέυ, δε λέω "Έθαψα το χάμστερ μου ζωντανό" και "Κλώτσησα ένα πεκινουά στα 10 μέτρα, γιατί πήγε να επιτεθεί στον ανιψιό μου" κάτι λένε. Αλλά "Φίλησα μια κοπέλα μπροστά στον άντρα μου"; "Οδήγησα μαστουρωμένος". Ρηλυ;! Από την άλλη, αυτοί είχαν και το θάρρος να τα μοιραστούν ενώ εγώ όχι.

That being said, I present to the 8 to 10 of you, my very own Cringe List:

Things I Have Done That Still Make Me Cringe
by Giorgis Despotakis
(that's the spelling on the birth certificate, thus also at UCLA)

1. That first script.
2. Broke my brother's nose.
3. Persistently loved someone who didn't love me back.
4. Pretended my hair went blond from the sun.
5. Stole my dad's condoms.
6. Stole porn from kiosks.
7. Threw away porn in apartment building's boiler room.
8. Chanted for my girlfriend to kiss another girl (Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! KISS!).
9. Cheated on said girlfriend.
10. Read 1st few lines of e-mail meant for someone else.
11. Gossiped so people would like me.
12. Took a stupid stand against a teacher.
13. Got people drunk so they would play strip poker.
14. Lied badly.
15. Pretended to be straight.
16. Solved math problems in front of entire class while having ass-crack sweat.

Seeing it typed on the screen it... doesn't seem that big a deal. Maybe I shouldn't judge my classmates for what, I only, perceive to be pride in their recounting of their own cringe-worthy accomplishments. I should trust that, for each one, their List stirs in them equivalent emotions to the sea-sick and eye-rolly ones I get when overthinking mine.

Fine. I won't "trust". But I'm open to the notion.

*Edited: 'cause I misspelled my surname. No, really.

Ready? OK.

Orientation: an introduction, as to guide one in adjusting to new surroundings, employment, activity, or the like.

Don't you hate it when people start off like so? Or do you like it? I'm kinda ambivalent on it. It depends on the situation.

Orientation was on Thursday. It was like something from another world. Except no, for that, it is a lie! It was something completely of this world, something that made everything feel so real and here and possible I almost felt like I would burst. On three separate occasions I caught myself shuddering with pleasure, while our professors were speaking to us and introducing the course. That sounds kinda wrong doesn't it? Somehow grossly erotic.

Δοκιμάζω να βρω ποιός θα είμαι εδώ πέρα και γενικότερα, στο γράψιμο. Τι θα γράψω; Προσπαθώ να είμαι λάητ κι αστείος να παρέχω κάτι ευχάριστο και ευκολοδιάβαστο. Αλλά είναι τόσο πολύ στο χαρακτήρα μου το να χάνω τον έλεγχο. Αρκεί κάτι να μ' αγγίξει, να μου δώσει τροφή για ιστορίες και μου φεύγουν τα ηνία. Ό,τι κι αν είναι αυτό. Σκεφτείτε το λίγο. Δε λέω για το μάθημα μόνο. Ενθουσιάζομαι τόσο έυκολα.

This is exciting to me. Seriously.

I am so stoked! How could I deny it and why should I? There was this song, a long time ago, I heard it on 'Scrubs'. Did you watch 'Scrubs'? Have you? I wouldn't want to spoil you - I never want to spoil anything. Suffice it to say it came at just the right moment in the episode and I don't even need to go into the lyrics, the title is enough, it's called Waiting For My Real Life To Begin. Notice the capitalisation? It's for emphasis! And, boy, did I put a lot on that song and the scene and those feelings. 'Cause that was me. At University, amidst realisations, having left home for the first time, this was exactly me.

Είναι κάπως, εχ, κάπως μπλκ κάπως... οφπούτινγκ, ρε παιδί μου, αυτό το χαρακτηριστικό. Φαντάζομαι ο λόγος που με συγχύζει τόσο πολύ όταν το διακρίνω στους άλλους είναι ότι το έχω σε τόσο μεγάλο βαθμό εγώ. Μπηκώζ ιτ ιζ ώλγουεηζ αμπάουτ μη (εντ ιτς ώλγουεηζ αμπάουτ γιού, σο σατ δε φακ απ). Είναι τρομακτικό. Το να ανοίγεσαι τόσο ώστε να παραδέχεσαι περήφανα "Αυτός είμαι. Κοίτα! Κοίτα τι πράγματα με τρέφουν. Κοίτα τα κομμάτια μου". Εχ. Αναγούλα μου 'ρχεται και μόνο που το σκέφτομαι.

The thing is, I've always felt alone. I have always craved -yes, I wrote craved- community. I have searched high and low for a co-conspirator, a person who likes the things I like, for a person like me, who'll like me. And I have found there is no such thing. Reality has been shouting at me "There is no one like you, you dumb fuck!" To this day, anything I feel, I feel it must be wrong. Like I am the only person who feels that way and thinks that way. And it wasn't until lately that I realised reality is right. There is no "one" like me. Everyone is like me. That's it.

This is it.

Σου 'ρχεται να ξεράσεις εδώ απ' τη γλυκάδα ή δε σου 'ρχεται; Ξεκίνησα να γράφω με σκοπό να κουτσομπολέψω τους νέους συμμαθητές. Να σας πω κατά πόσο ταιριάζουν στις προβλέψεις του προηγούμενου έν'τρυ, να ρίξω και καμμιά εξωτερική περιγραφή. (Έχουμε μια ηθοποιό στην ομάδα πάρα πολύ όμορφη, ξανθιά -φυσικά- η οποία είμαι πεποισμένος ότι την έχει κάνει την πλαστική της στη μύτη και όταν βρω αδιάσειστα στοιχεία θα-- ξέρω 'γω; Θα. ΑΔΙΑΣΕΙΣΤΑ, ΣΑΣ ΛΕΩ!) Ήθελα και να μοιραστώ το συναίσθημα της αρχής. Κι έχασα τον ειρμό μου και τον έλεγχο. Γιατί ήταν υπέροχο.

Leaving gave me such perspective. It's corny but it's so true, you guys. In a flash, I could see how people cared and I could feel it all around me and I had such a clear vision of who I was and for whom I did and did not care. And I dared. Fuck me, I dared. And the summer that just went was the happiest I have ever been. And more than that, the entire time, I felt like the wait was over. I wasn't just happy, I was starting to be happy. It would only get better from then on. And, in its own way, it has.

Ο alexkaplan55 δεν είναι εβδομηντάρης, ούτε έχει υιοθετήσει παιδί - απ' όσο ξέρω. 25, 26άρης το πολύ- κι έντονη, ανταγωνιστική προσωπικότητα. Να μου το θυμηθείτε, θα έχουμε ιστορίες με τον τύπο. Ο bendictive φουλ τάημ μεσίτης παρτ τάημ σεναριογράφος. Φαλακραίνει. Για τη σεξουαλικότητα του δεν ξέρουμε. Ακόμα. Η obrienrach είναι η προαναφερθείσα ηθοποιός της παρέας. Θα προσεγγισθεί συντόμως. Ο gahl108 μας έχει έρθει κατευθείαν από τη Ρωσία με χαβανέζικο πουκαμισάκι, βαριά προφορά και νομίζω το πιο πηγαίο πάθος από όλους. Βέβαια είναι κι ο khaneev από το Ιράν. Ξανθιά, φουσκωτή, κεφαλοξυρισμένη, θα έλεγε κανείς "τσοντική" εκδοχή Ιρανού... η σιωπηλή δύναμη. Δεν έπεσα και πολυ έξω, ε; Εκτός του ότι ο terrellpappas είναι καραμερικανάκος γκηκ - σαν τον Κέβιν Σμιθ στο λεπτό του. Και η christinealucas; Άφαντη.

There was such simple ceremony at orientation. No one made a big deal of themselves but all of them had an easy charm. Like, they hadn't prepared painstakingly but they weren't speaking unthinkingly. They knew their shit. They spoke about the course and the work we will do. Like athletes (I know), we'll start with the fundamentals. Start from the basics (SCORE!) and build on that. They spoke about us not competing and helping each other and about the minuscule but very much existent possibility that some professional break might come of this. There was no promise on that front but one: you will be better. In ten weeks you will be better than today. In twenty you will be better than that. As for advice? Train. Write constantly and don't be hard on yourself. And write CON-STANT-LY.

See, 'cause we're like the footballers?
(Or! OR I just wanted an excuse to post this pretty picture).

Μ' αρέσει η επιστημονική φαντασία κι η ρισκέ θεματολογία (σαν στίχος του Τους είναι αυτό) αλλά δε βλέπω να το 'χω τόσο πολύ με τα συγκεκριμένα. Οπότε παίρνω τη συμβουλή των νέων μου καθηγητών και δε με κρίνω πολύ αυστηρά (ακόμα / έτσι γι' αλλαγή). Ας γράψω αυτά τα συναισθηματικά, ρομαντικά κι ανθρώπινα, τα έρνεστ (τον Έρνεστ με το Χαλογουήν που έβαζε το ΜΕΓΚΑ το 'χετε δει; Πρέπει. Τέλειο!) Κι από 'κει και πέρα ό,τι βγει. Στο κάτω κάτω της γραφής οι οκτώ μας είμαστε εδώ.

I'll figure it out eventually. I may not be the sci-fi guy or one for action. I like making the peoples laugh but maybe they're only doing it out of courtesy, you know? Just 'cause I won't shut up, ever. So what am I gonna be? Is it gonna be drama or a comedy? I'm not Princess Leia or even the world's least likely gay pornstar. I don't have the interest factor built-in. So, I need to work for it. I need to find out what there is and what it is I'm gonna do with it. This here's how I find out.

"Be better"

Christ. I need to get drunk, like, now.