I haven’t been writing much since I’ve been quite busy with acting…busy with acting. That actually felt sort of good to say that, but I had the worst of the worst day yesterday.
I have a small part for a horror film and I only have to say about 2-3 lines in the whole movie. Yesterday, the producer was really anal about everyone being on time at 6 o’ clock. So, being the responsible and reliable person I am, I arrived ten minutes early, but I later found out that they didn’t really need me at that time.
I was sitting there for over four hours doing absolutely nothing. Most of the actors and extras I was trying to converse with were not friendly people at all, so I just left without even filming. Worst four hours of my life. I’m not even sure if they even filmed at all on that day.
On a partially brighter side, last Thursday I went to audition for a popular cellphone company commercial that will air during a very special time. I will give out more specific information if I get the job. I would be really, extremely, completely and utterly happy if they cast me.
PREASE CAST ME!!!@!! PREASE!!!
And this is completely off topic but you really have to watch this. The comedian is Joy Koy, and he’s a hoot in this particular video. If you don’t think this is funny then I don’t know what is.
I’d like to give my gratitude to the interracial couples out there of Asian and White descent for breeding very aesthetically pleasing human beings of this planet.
So here, I present to you my topnotch list of outrageously good looking Eurasian/Hapa men:
5. Dennis Oh (actor/model)
This guy has enough hotness to liquefy a 50-ton block of ice and a football field of Frostys the snowman. His smile is remarkably innocent yet peculiarly hypnotic that getting rejection from women is probably unheard of to Dennis. Also, his immaculate features and good bone structures render him immune to failure and ugly chicks.
4. Troy (model)
If Elvis Presley were to morph into a scrawny Asian guy, he would probably look like Troy. Troy has a very mysterious, odd and edgy appearance that I once thought was originated from another dimension, a majestic fantasyland most likely known as Eurashotnessia. From looking at his photos, I get this huge vibe that he performs really weird and abnormal and kinky shit in bed…I mean after all he is from another world.
3. Justin Nozuka (musician)
RichL and I are total fans of Justin. Only difference is that she’s of fan of his music, and I’m a fan of his hotness. He has one of the best convincing puppy dog eyes that it’s virtually impossible to decline his apologies…that is if he ever has them. He seems to radiate a sense of heart, refined innocence, and slight geekiness, which are some of the traits that I find to be oddly charming in the opposite sex.
2. Daniel Henney (actor/model)
I once watched a documentary about his mother visiting him in Korea, and despite the palpable hotness he emitted through my computer screen, it turns out that he actually has a personality and is a genuine momma’s boy. The poor baby was literally crying a flood when his mom had to leave to the airport. And to top it all off, he has a role in the film X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Whoa!
1. Daniel Cloud Campos (dancer)
He is a talented b-boy/dancer (hence being a former backup dancer for Madonna) and could possibly kick your ass with a single windmill whip of high-energetic-metabolic-double-standard-roundhouse-kick to the throat. He has a keen eye for art and possesses his own unique style—most of which are manic, anorexic looking cartoon characters that are probably related to the aliens from the movie Space Jam. There’s fast-paced movement and life that is projected throughout his work, and that’s what makes it so appealing. Overall, Cloud is much more than an emblem of hotness, and that’s why he gets the number one spot on my legit list.
If anybody still has my previous website, tiffarts.com, linked, you can remove it. It’s permanently closed.
However, as very few of you may know, I do have a spanking new website that’s going to be showcased as an acting portfolio, and there, I will also be documenting my fun-crammed (and sometimes not so fun) adventures of trying to land some decent acting gigs in Hollywood as well as here in Orange County, using videos and photos. Starting tomorrow morning, I have yet another audition to goto, except this one’s for a sitcom. Let’s hope they don’t need a resume or handshot. Ha!
As much as I would love to talk about it here, I’m going to try to keep things separately since I really don’t want anyone I’m working with to find out about this website…I do have quite the sailor mouth sometimes. I’ll link the website for anyone who is interested.
Speaking of working with people on a professional basis, I really really regret registering THIS domain because it has my own friggin name on it! Fuck! Don’t quote me on this but I think 70% of employers google their applicant’s name before deciding whether to hire them or not. It’s so easy to look for regular people via Internet nowadays that I’m beginning to become paranoid.
You must support my ho, Angie, and buy your damn movie tickets for Wanted which will be opening on June 27th.
I know, I know I was completely and utterly wrong about The Strangers, but I have a good-no great feeling about Wanted. This shits going to rock the house.
And here’s my favorite screen cap of the film. Is it not one of the most ferosh candid shots you’ve ever seen?
The audition I went to turned out to be kind of good…aaand sort of bad.
I don’t have experience; therefore I don’t have a resume. I also don’t have a printed 8 x 10 headshot either. I am aware that most auditions require you to bring at least one of the two, so a couple of days ago, I emailed one of the staff/producers asking if I needed to bring anything, such as a resume and or headshot.
He replied, “No, you don’t have to bring anything.”
So that’s where I go, to myself, “Nice! They don’t have to know jack shit about my past ‘experiences’.”
On the day I went to the auditions it turns out that it was mandatory you bring the two. I don’t know why that fucktard had given me the opposite answer, but I decided not to give them an explanation since people, including myself, generally don’t care for excuses.
So when they asked, I, with poise (I hope), declared, “I don’t have them.”
Since the rest of the people, who were also trying out for a role (there were about 30 of them), were actual experienced actors, they were well equipped, and I was the only amateur who walked in empty handed. It looked pretty bad on my part, but in my mind, I gave myself kudos for simply being in the same room with professionals.
I did manage to try out, and it’s pretty similar to American Idol where you’re the only one standing in front of a row of people who were going to decide whether you make it or not.
They asked me to recite a two-minute monologue, and thank-fucking-goodness-to-the-heavenly-gracious; I already had a monologue prepared.
Next, they gave me a script to act with along with a partner. Everything went great.
It’s been a couple of days since the audition, and I don’t think I’m getting a callback. Yeah, go figure.
The bad part of this first time experience was that I didn’t bring a resume or a headshot, as a result it made me look very unprofessional. The good part is that I have finally found my niche. I was having a significantly great time auditioning, I can only imagine what it would be like to actually get the role and peform in front of the camera.
So I didn’t make the cut, oh well, on with the next!
Some people are wondering if I’m actually pursuing acting since that other entry I wrote on taking risks.
…and yeah, I am. I’m not all talk.
It’s quite terrifying actually because, well first of all, I’m finally quitting my job on the 1st of July, which means I’m going to be dependent on my both my financial savings and paid acting gigs. Acting gigs are clearly way too unpredictable because you don’t always land a role. And second, I live 45 minutes away from LA, and gas, at the moment, is practically five bucks a gallon. That’s a lot. Because of distance, I’m very choosy and mostly hesitant of what I’m trying out for that’s located in LA.
I managed to book an audition tomorrow for an independent film. It’s going to be my first audition and I’ve never pissed so much piss in my sunflower shorts until now. I don’t know what to expect, I don’t know what to do, in fact, they don’t even know that I have absolutely zero amount of credible acting experience. They merely assumed that I have at least some knowledge, but they don’t have to know.
What momma don’t know won’t hurt her.
The good side is I landed a role on some other low-budget film, and as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have to audition since my part is very small and simple, and I’m only going to be there for two days. Meh. You have to start somewhere.
So there you have it. This is mainly what I’ve been stressing about for days. I actually haven’t told anyone about this, especially my family. It’ll be kept under wraps for now. So if anyone asks, say you don’t know shit!
Ever feel like playing an easy and painless joke on a total stranger? If so, look no further, I’ve got a mission for you.
There are some people in this world that are in love with their own names. They’re so infatuated that they’ll go to great lengths to order a customized license plate with their name clearly printed on it, and so on.
The next time you see someone with their names written on themselves, their bag, or plate or whatever, pretend that you know them!
Here’s an example of what I did back in high school:
I was eating lunch with an old friend, Tania, at a mall and we notice that the girl who was eating with her back face towards us had a tramp stamp that said, “Melanie”, along with some tacky touches of stars and sparkles.
Me: Do you think that’s her name? What a boring idea for a tattoo if it is.
Tania: I don’t know, but why don’t you find out? Haha.
Obviously, she was being facetious, but I wanted to know, bad, but asking the girl, “Hey, uh, the trampst-I mean tattoo you have there below your back…that your name?” would sound very insulting and a bit gawky to me. So I had to be slick and professional.
Ok watch me.
The trashcan was a few feet in front of tramp stamp girl, so I decided to take one of my used ketchup bags, walk up to the trash can, throw the ketchup away and turn around. Pretending to notice tramp stamp girl, I ran up to her, sat in the chair that was at the opposite end (she was eating alone), and said “Heeeeeyyy. Heyy you. Melanie, right?”
After I had blurted out the name, I suddenly realized that tramp stamp girl could’ve been a lesbian and Melanie could’ve been her girlfriend…or she could have had a sister who passed away named Melanie, and the tat was like a memorial of her! I’m fucked! I was scared up to my wits and I expected her to answer “No, that’s not me. You saw my tattoo didn’t you? Nice try, you’re an asshole!” But there’s no turning back. I already talked and now I was waiting for her to respond.
Tramp stamp girl: Yeah, how do you know?
Oh shit! And she doesn’t even know HOW.
Me: Whoa! It’s me, Jessica (Who doesn’t know a Jessica?). How are you Mel? How’s your family doing? I haven’t seen you in years! Whoa.
And I say this very loud and with sheer enthusiasm, so that Tania, who I could tell was trying so hard not to burst out laughing, was able to hear our conversation.
Tramp stamp girl was really confused…and really lost at the moment, and most importantly she was buying it. Because tramp stamp girl is convinced that I have met her before by using her name, she doesn’t want to come off as an asshole by informing me that she doesn’t remember who I am, so instead, she follows along.
Tramp stamp girl: Jessica. Ohhh…. they’ve been good. Thank you. How are yours?
And that pretty much sums up our conversation. Gawd, I’m so immature.
But that’s how you do it like a champ, and moral of the story is, if you’re a walking nametag AND you’re oblivious to that, you’re asking to be messed with.
No one cares about reading other people’s boring lives.
Sometimes I like to survey people with the most random questions thrown at their faces, and one of the things I did today at my long and very tedious five hour orientation for some university was to ask readers on what they were looking for in a blog.
The orientation was specifically directed towards graphic and web designers, so I knew they were an internet geek like me. My inane questions on blogging had erratically lead to a storm of what turned out to be an excellent group discussion.
Essentially, we were ranting, ranting about what they didn’t want to read in a blog. And basically, it’s your life.
If you must talk about how you went to work today and chewed sugar-free gum that you swore had sugar in it, then at least, for the love of rice, TRY to make it funny. Trust me, you can find a lot of humor in a lot of situations no matter how simple or complex the story is.
Though if you think that turning it into something comical would fabricate the story and lose its accuracy then don’t talk about it at all.
If truly have a sorry ass life, then talk about the past instead of the present. My new acquaintances had given me the idea to write about my childhood, and boy, do I have SOME stories to brag.
I know some of you are suffering from a writer’s block but you can talk about like, how you use to—ever so discreetly—smear your snot and boogers on your brother’s back for decapitating your Malibu barbie, and how you and your old pal from first grade use to spy on the neighbors getting a tan in the backyard…topless!
You can never go wrong with talking about your childhood. I don’t know about you guys, but my life, as a child, was pretty exhilarating and packed with adventures than it was now.
So if you’re having a blog-fart, I dare you to divulge your wackiest/weirdest/funniest childhood moments.
I’m still—very much—concerned about the last incident that happen and my job in general. To get my mind off of every bad thing that has been affiliated with my job, I’m going to write about some items that I really really want. When I usually think about the stuff that I want to shop for, the stress seems to disperse and then everything becomes peachy keen…for a moment of course.
Ok so here’s my list of I HAVE TO HAVE IT!
Dexter bobblehead
If you’ve been following my blog lately, you shouldn’t be surprise that I’m a huge fan of the TV show, Dexter (future post). I want every damn driver and pedestrian to notice the magnificence of my Dexter bobblehead and be familiar with the fact that I’m a huge fan of that show. I guess I have that mentality of a sports fanatic who pimps their ride with tacky sports logo (flags, abnormally large bumper stickers, etc) representing their favorite team. I don’t have a favorite sports team, however I do have a favorite TV show! Why not sport your favorite show on your own ride as well? I want to be in the loop!
Leg lamp
I love (leg) lamp. I have mentioned, on one of my earlier entries, about redecorating my bedroom. As time changes, people do. I’m not into the whole 80’s brightly colored childish rooms anymore. I want something that screams artsy fartsy, morose and slightly sexual. I thought about it, and the traditional classic film A Christmas Story automatically took a dump on my head. Remember that leg lamp in the film that was purchased by the dad, who was totally getting off on it? Yeah, that one…I want that one, but I assure you I won’t be doing outlandish kinky things with it. The leg lamp will surely add a nice touch to the room once the revamping is final.
Anything studded
For a couple months, I’ve been infatuated with anything that’s laden with studs. If you’re wearing an outfit that’s really boring and basic, a studded bag or a pair of studded shoes will undeniably make your whole outfit look 10x better.
I think I’ve had an altercation with a grand total of 100 customers (or more) since working at an optometry practice for nearly over two years. 99.9% of the customers who had took their anger out on me were at least over the age of 40. What does that say? They have no respect for younger people whatsoever. Sorry, but I’m actually not a child anymore, so don’t treat ever me like one, assholes.
They bitch and moan so much about the prices of their glasses or contact lenses or some dumb bullshit I was never held accountable for that it’s starting to make my nose bleed.
In order to help my boss to keep the business growing, I have to be nice to them. I have to respect every word that comes out of their damn foolish mouths. It’s the best policy when you’re dealing with a shitty customer, so yeah I can accept that. But what if you have to deal with them all the time? What if it feels like you have a multiple of people screaming in your face everyday and you’re not allowed to react to it?
At some point, it will eventually set the trigger off of you. I have reached to that point today, and boy did it feel ever so delightful to be able to release the wrath of Tiff.
You see I had a mean customer today, and I’m a really nice person to work with, I really am. He wanted to buy contacts for his daughter, so I was generous enough to write out a complete chart of what he would be paying if he would get X amount of boxes, and what the insurance would be covering for.
He didn’t understand my chart; so again, I was generous enough to go into full, precise detail of what the chart meant. After seven-ish minutes of lecturing him, he looked at me with a, “Are you retarded?” expression and accused me of ripping him off.
Whoa, whoooa there buddy. I just work here, I don’t make up the prices you fucking worthless piece of nauseating diarrhea shit.
I kept my cool and I tried to give him my reasonable explanation.
That didn’t work. He was furious and now demanded to get the contacts for FREE. So this is where I blew up. C’mon, who demands free stuff when that person is acting like shit towards you? I couldn’t ask for a better time to pop. My boss was out of town, and some fresh doctor was filling in, so she was pretty much working for me.
We were fighting back and forth. And all you heard from me was:
“HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO BREATHE? I DON’T OWN THIS PLACE. I’M NOT THE DOCTOR NOR THE BOSS. I JUST WORK FOR HER, I FOLLOW THE RULES, SO WHY ARE YOU ACCUSING ME OF RIPPING YOU OFF? WHY DON’T YOU ACT YOUR AGE AND GENDER? I DON’T HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO GIVE YOU FREE STUFF. WHY WOULD I GIVE YOU FREE STUFF ANYWAY? WITH YOUR ATTITUDE YOU DESERVE GETTING RIPPED OFF FOR A LIVING. TRY WHINING TO MY BOSS ABOUT ME. TRY IT, SHE CAN’T STAND YOU EITHER.”
Btw replace all periods with a gillion of exclamation marks.
After our tiff (HA!), we were nice to each other. That is until he told me he wanted to call the office Saturday, but we were going to be closed on that day (not sure why), normally we open, so I had to inform him about that.
And you know what he does?
He rolls his eyes, shakes his head at me and gives out this snobbish laugh as if he was disproving the business for not opening on that particular Saturday.
What a complete jackass right? Everything was ok between us again, until he had to stir up a round two. Yes a round two, which I will not go into much detail, but what I will say is that after that incident, where he shook his head and laughed, I responded by mocking his laugh and then sarcastically said, “yeah pretty hilarious huh?”
And then all hell broke lose. Fuck that guy.
I’m going to give my boss a two weeks notice when she comes back from her vacation. I can’t handle all of that mess that has been building up in that place anymore.
I was inspired (by The Strangers and many other countless slasher movies that are composed of nonsensical victims who pull off the the same old, typical miscues that have lead most of them to their death) to write the howtos of surviving a slasher film.
Do not SSS.
If you happen to bump into your killer by accident never ever stand, stare, and scream (SSS) all at the exact same time. It’s impolite and makes it much easier for him to kill you. When victims, without much awareness, are suddenly face to face with their killer, it is expected of them to SSS for a duration of 5-10 seconds before dashing off. Unfortunately, most of them never make it to the running part.
For fucks sake turn around!!!!!
Save the hug and kisses for later.
The killer kidnapped your best friend, Tina, and by breaking into his remote, shabby house of torture you managed to find Tina alive, but tied by a tangling web of cords. Whatever you do, do not give her a hug nor say over-sentimental things to her such as, “Aww I’m so glad you’re alive!” and “What did he do to you? I sure hope you’re ok!” Just shut your fucking mouth and untie her as fast as you can before the killer pops out of nowhere and catches the both of you guys.
Never lean against the door you’re hiding behind.
So you didn’t take my last advice and now psycho over here is chasing after you, but you managed to lock yourself in a room. Do not use yourself as a barricade to hold against the door and if you’re physically drained from playing all of that cat and mouse game, rest on anything except for the door which he’s probably standing on the other side of.
Never check if your killer is dead.
You found a loaded gun in the room that you were hiding in, and as soon as the killer was able to break through the door with his wooden axe, you’ve managed to shoot a couple of rounds at his chest and now he’s knocked out cold on the ground. You want to know if he’s dead right? Of course you do, but first off, never ever walk up to his body and give him a modest kick in the rib just to check for any sign of life…that is unless you want him to grab your ankle and then have him tear it off with his mouth. If you want to be 100% certain, just take his axe and behead him. It wouldn’t hurt to chop his limbs off either and maaaaybe he won’t come back for a sequel.
So there’s my compact list. Isn’t that easy or what?
