Super Smashed, Brother

Well, what else is Shamrock Day for?

On Sunday I decided to finally enter this gen of game consoles, and stuck with the ol' tried and true Nintendo. Their elusive white box debuted in November 2006, and it's still nigh impossible to get in this town in March 2008, except if you know where to look. It's my way of celebrating the first gig, and also my way of breaking one of the cardinal rules of acting: don't count your money before you get it (I think that applies more so if you're expecting residuals, but still).

The Wii rules for many reasons I shan’t indulge in here, lest I increase the "nerd quotient" of these bloggings by 14% (it already sits at a staggering 58% as it is), but I will say that the Virtual Console is the best freaking thing ever. I can play Metroid, Star Fox, Mario, and Zelda all on the same console ... and then have them all smash the ever-loving bejesus out of each other in the same game. Sweet. My roomie has a bunch of games, so huzzah for not having to buy any. Yet.

Also, when did the Mooseheads get those black jerseys that say "Halifax" across the front? They're pretty boss.

Monday I was on my way to get the appropriate liquid encouragement for the evening's festivities, and got involved in an impromptu 100m dash with my lady roommate, when from the heavens above, the dainty, wisp of a woman I was with was smashed on the noodle with a Subway bag full of water from one of the higher rooms of the hotel that’s directly across from our apartment. Couldn't make it up if I tried, one minute I'm yelling "way to go track star!" and the next, in a huge splash, she's on her hands and knees, soaking wet, confused, upset and hurt. Her new iPod was knocked from her hand, but thankfully that wasn't broken, and though she had a headache, there wasn't anything worse than that and a tiny cut on her scalp.

A guy from a across the street saw the whole thing, and took it upon himself to talk to the people at the hotel desk about it. They had security try to find the room, but it was difficult; it could have come from anywhere. So with no one reprimanded there wasn't much to do but leave our phone numbers for a follow-up. It's not the hotel's fault, but it is their guests that preformed the act, so they’ll have to shoulder the responsibility. The whole thing was just such a wacky incident, and we were laughing about it soon after.

After the roomies got back from class, we engaged in a night of drunken Smash Bros., "Would You Rather?" and the always-disappointing late-night trip to Denny's. It's the most fun I've had in a while.

Now, with yesterday's revelations, the Wii may get paid-off before I get paid for actually acting. Here’s why:

I got a call from Kevin, the wardrobe guy (no word from the lion or witch, yet) telling me my costume fitting is Wednesday at 2pm. Uhm, I thought I was going to set Wednesday?
"No, it's for Thursday, the 20th."
OK, I thought, I've been wrong before (recall the "Altitude" callback where I showed-up a full 24 hours early for the audition.)

So, I just took Kevin's word for it, and went back to sleep.

My agent's assistant called later, and sounded surprised when I told her of the change. She said she'd call back and figure things out, and, without having to play tennis before getting back to me, called just a few minutes later.
"What time did the wardrobe guy call you?"
"Uh, it was like 10 ... 10:45, 'round there."
"OK, well we're going to get you compensation. If it was before ten, then we'd only get 50%, but since it was within 24 hours, it's the day-rate minus the buy-out."

The day-rate is around $330 for an actor. That’s $330 for doing nothing.

"Also, they have you credited as 'William Vaughan’; do you want the 'C.' in there?"
"Uh, yeah, tell 'em to put that in there, better be consistent," even though imdb.com makes note of people being credited slightly differently. For example Philip Seymour Hoffman's "Alternate names" are: Philip S. Hoffman / Philip Hoffman / Phillip Seymour Hoffman (two l's)/ Phil Hoffman.

While grocery shopping later that day, the 2nd Assistant Director called me (amid a torrent of dramatic phone calls, you don't wanna know.)
"So, your fitting is tomorrow at 2pm, but Chris wants to see people in hair and make-up before they go to set, so can you make it to (somewhere, I forget what she said) at around 6pm tomorrow? We're doing night shoots."
Well, the night time is the right time for me, and seeing him the day before will take care of any pre-shoot jitters. Now I'll have to fall violently, un-workably ill on Thursday night instead. It's so hard to plan a good sickness these days.

With all this happening, I still need to put that pilot audition on tape for the LA person. I’ll have to sleep tomorrow morning, so that’s out, and I’ll need to sleep Thursday before I go to set, so it looks like Friday it is, but it’s Good Friday, so the studios may be closed. Putting stuff on tape is actually a real pain when you have to find your own reader, call to book the time (the studio I called yesterday was closed at 4:15) and pay for them to tape you. But hey, show me the guy who said it’d be easy, and I’ll show you a guy that the drug-sniffing dogs would have a field-day over.

Also, work is short-staffed in our final weeks of the contract, so they’ve been calling me to work overtime (I had to do 13 ½ hours on Friday night) which couldn’t happen at a worse time. The company taking-over the security contract is paying a prettier penny, so it may be worth my while to get on with them and stay here a while. Well, we’ll see if any restaurants want me first. With the never-ending renovations upstairs, sleeping in the day is once again an upstream swim, so graveyard has lost its “appeal”. It’ll be over soon.
At least the Foo Fighter’s concert is on Sunday instead of Saturday (what’s with me being a day early for EVERYTHING?) so I can make that without any problems … except I’ll have to miss going to Empire Theatres by myself to watch Wrestlemania 24.

Aaannd, the “nerd quotient” just hit 65% with that last remark. A new record!