Getting representation is hard! Nobody believes in me more than my Grandma!
So, last time she called for her weekly interrogation –> disapproval –> advisory session on “what I’m doing to break-in” I told her to put her money where her mouth is.

We agreed that I’d send her and her 89 years of spunk thru the William Morris Agent Training Program. Now, I know what you’re thinking, Why William Morris?” I’ll tell you why; because according to the Princeton Review of Jobs, “In operation for more than a century, William Morris Agency is the oldest and largest talent and literary agency in the world.” Oldest agency; old lady, seemed a perfect fit. Also, “WMA does seem to make an effort to hire significant numbers of women and minorities into entry-level positions.” Gramma’s got both, so that’s two birds, one Jew for them! And then there’s the fact that, ironically, I know someone there that can get her the job.

She was totally cool with the seven day work week (if you just keep telling her it’s Wednesday), being on the receiving end of a lot of yelling (she’s a little hard of hearing anyway), and the obligatory trainee dog collar (it matches her medic-alert bracelet) but she was a bit concerned that the $400/week salary would interfere with her cushy social security benefits.
According to their quadruple X website, “Trainees start in the mailroom where they generally spend four to six months sorting, routing and delivering mail, manuscripts, packages and internal documents.” According to Grandma, the mail cart is a smoother wheel than her walker, and she’s getting lots of hugs on her rounds. Tonight she’s going to one of the agent’s birthday parties at Life and then “the party after.” I don’t expect her to  Dial-A-Ride home before 3 or 4 am.
I think the area where she’ll really excel is on someone’s desk. Generally speaking, there’s less room for falling down, and imagine what Nice Grandma nice-grandma.mov and her counterpart Angry Grandma angry-grandma.mov could do if it was Sumner Redstone she was leaving messages for and not me.
In the meantime, I’m writing writing writing so that 2-5 years from now, G-d willing, when she’s made a full-fledged agent, she can tell me all the reasons why my stable of work won’t sell, hip-pocket me, and stop returning my calls.

It has recently come to my attention that I am Fucked Up. But therapy in LA is dang pricey. I know it’s an investment in me, but Me can’t afford it. And if we can’t afford it, chances are yous can’t either. So I’ve scoured the Internet for free brain-doctoring to help us all finally unpack that baggage we’ve been hauling around since our self-esteem was destroyed in grade 3.

I thought I’d embark on this psychic journey by picking up some used psychology books, but since that takes actual efforts, I signed up for Tut notes (tut.com) and receive a daily message straight from The Universe to my inbox. So wherever you see my name, swap it out for yours, and wherever you see “I” or “me” it’s you-I and you-me.

“A life properly lived is an easy, luxurious life, it’s not supposed to be hard though we can make it that way with limited thinking, low expectations, or failing to see ourselves as we really are: Infinite Beings of Light. Fun loving gladiators of the Universe. Adventurers just being human, with eternity before us and the power of our thoughts to shape it!!
WE MAKE OUR OWN REALITIES, OUR OWN FATE AND OUR OWN LUCK. That, is how powerful we are, and andrea, that, is how powerful YOU are. And to offset all the mainstream thinking to the contrary, you deserve to hear this kind of message as often as you have to hear all the others.”

So Spartacus, is the power of your mind box making your personal reality, fate and luck as craptastic as mine? And we only have ourselves to blame! Not even Mom.
No really, let’s just suck it up and take responsibility for something once in our lives. Fuck. Shit! Fuck.

Oh my god what have I done?!
What am I doing?!

Think about it: That’s why people act like assholes!

Is this a breakthrough?
I feel like ass.
THIS is hard.
Nap now.

I awoke thirty-seven hours later (is that normal?) with a vice-like grip on my tear stained pillow to find this guy:
“What if the one person who you believed liked you the least, andrea, loved you the most? Yeah, ‘hate when that happens.’
-The Universe
P.S.- It sometimes happens like that, andrea.”

Um. What? Does it just sometimes “happen” or is it due to the incredible power of my thought making?
Someone doesn’t like me? Who?
Wait, no. Someone loved me in that way and I fucked it up?
Why am I not open to love?
And why didn’t the asshole just tell me he loved me instead of acting like I smelled moldy? I might have issues with feeling deserving of love, but that’s some seventh grade style bullshit.
I don’t know about you-me, but I need a drink.

Andrea,

So clearly you no how to right. I’m excited about this idea and can help you develop it into something like Elektra meets something that made money. But I’m trying to read between the lines. Looking for hints or suggestions of how I could allow you to master my universe while simulatneously allowing me to take you to places you’ve never been.  I am not a confident cocky guy.  Sware.  EXCEPT when it comes to really feeling confident about what I know… and I know this: I would make you feel like a princess. A goddess.

So, do you want to come into the office and talk about your pitch or meat me for a glass of wine and let me make every pore of your body sing out with joy?

The fam is well, thanks. Rose turned 2 last weekend!
Alan [redacted]
[redacted] MEDIA
[redacted] BLVD.
10th [redacted]
LOS ANGELES, [redacted]
310-[redacted]  Direct

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

I met my manager Alan in the fall at a panel discussion at the Odyssey Theater (cause it takes 20 years to get there) and then re-met him (I remembered him, he didn’t remember me) at Sundance Film Festival For Parties, Free Hats With Too Much Embroidery and Weight Loss Camp ’08.  I haven’t officially been signed yet– he’s calling it “hip-pocketing,” and he’s an Inappropriate Toucher. But he’s a GREAT manager! At an even GREATER management company! And I just know he’ll get me an agent who can sell anything and is a really really nice and caring person, so it’s cool.
Since the strike ended, Alan won’t return my phone calls or reply to my emails, but what he will do is read my blog posts and reply to them with his own blog posts, so feel free to stop reading here:

Heya Alan [redacted]!

I’ve been hard at work on a new, new idea and I think it’s ready to pitch. And specifically, I think it’d be perfect for Warner Bros., but you tell me:

Batmannelli
It’s the next Batman movie– except Batman would be played by Liza Minnelli.
Liza’s already on-board.

Let’s take over the world together like you said!
Hope the fam is well.
-andrea yay

Dear Facebook-
I appreciate that you’re always working to improve yourself, but I have a real problem with your recent “application,” these “People I May Know.” It’s great for you, conceptually, but do you ever think about anyone but yourself?! It sucks for me and probably “Him.”
Like how about the fact that grammatically you refer to ‘people’ in the most plural sense of the word, it’s not “Person You May Know” or “Know This Guy?”, when in reality, you only ever show me one person.

Add to that that that one person just happens to be my ex-boyfriend, who I habitated with for years, introduced to all my friends, and touched parts with on a semi-regular basis, and you might see why I want to punch you in your screen. Yeah, I know him. No, I do not want to be his friend.
Can we please talk about the fact that you’ve neglected to give me any option to make this screen go away other than to be-Face him, which I JUST TOLD you I don’t want to do. You never listen! I’m not harboring resentment towards him, but that doesn’t mean I’m interested in seeing his “status” or tagged photos of his new Tiny Asian Girlfriend on my home page.
You’re so unfair! Are you doing this to him? Are you?!
Will you just be honest for one second? What are you really trying to say? Every. Time. I. Log. In.
Also, why not go for broke. I mean, you have a “Wall” and a “Fun Wall” why not have a “Naked Wall”- where we can collect all the peoples that we’ve let see us at our most undressed and afterwards had that horrible realization that we actually LET them touch us from the inside (a.k.a. Regrettable Naked Times) and it feels like we’ve just run, full speed, head first into a brick wall. The “Naked Wall.” If we can make it “public” you’d be doing a community service by helping us avoid double-dipping.
Also also, what else do you know? Is a “People You Will Open Yourself Up To Only To Get Hurt” feature in the works? How about “Good For One Date” or “Don’t Date This Dude” or “People With Baggage Who Never Open Their Proverbial Suitcase” or “Secretly Married?”
Look, our problems are fixable, if you’re willing to change. I’ll keep ignoring those “87 requests” for bullshit things, if you will stop being jealous over him. Seriously, it was a million years and 3,000 miles ago. But if things aren’t gonna work out between us, I still have my space.
xo
-andrea