Age of Inland Empires

I don't update much, do I. Sorry about the lack of penmanship in January! Guess I just wasn't feeling it. That doesn't mean nothing happened though. On the well lit melodramatic stage that is my LA life, danger and, uh, the opposite of danger often rears its unshaven mug.

First off, let's address the blissful paranoia of being pulled over. That's right! I have now had the honor of meeting the LA County Sheriff's department face to face on numerous occasions. I was cruising down Santa Monica Boulevard at 11pm, howling to the stereo, when a sudden feeling of being trailed overcame me! Like a German homing missile with lights on it the cops were on my tail, signaling first by turning on two red lights and as I muttered "Don't turn the siren on, don't turn the siren on", they turned the siren on. Two rapid whoop whoops told me to pull over. Frozen stiff in my seat I assumed the role of worried white child lost in big city. A knock on my window. I wound it down and spotted a beige shirt through the blinding light of the flashlight straight to my face. The silhouette spoke "I don't suppose you're Chang Won Bak, by any chance"? Apparently a former owner of my stunning 1993 Mazda MX-6 has A FRIGGIN WARRANT OUT ON HIM! Having explained this to me the cop told me this was a problem only I could fix, by getting new plates at the DMV, my home away from home. I suppose it's too hard for the gentlemen in blue to erase the criminal's name off of my plates, thereby sparing me the cost and hassle of replacing them. The following week I got pulled over again for the same reason, and this time I took the hint. Armed with screwdrivers I dove into the bureaucratic hellhole on Hollywood and Western and luckily I got the sweetest old Mexican this side of the Rio Grande. She hooked me up with a couple of sparkling new plates to go along with the, get this, silver eagle plate casing that came with the car! I am now officially the master of my own mobile post-cooked-lobster-colored Japanese domain. Feels good, damn good. I am even convinced the car runs better now.

I also turned 26 in January, for those of you who remembered - I love your face! For those of you who didn't - I love your musk. Going old is not really something I think about anymore, really. Looking forward to thirty actually, not even kidding. In a sense I am done being a kid, in another I am and always will be a fucking kid it seems. The event was celebrated with a rooftop bash that lasted until 6:30 next morning with a little pick me up 12 hours later. It was a joyous occasion, but I missed the personal touch of having more people there that actually know me. Hilde, however, came from San Diego and was the only other Norwegian at my party. Hung over and giggly the next day, we played Uno and talked about why we came to the US and why we want to stay. Jonathan stepped up to the plate and made some jambalaya that blew me out of the room, that motherfucker can cook. The world of Cajun cooking is becoming a part of my life over here, and is something I intend to bring home with me eventually.
Tommy took me out the next day! I'm trying this new fad, called Sushi. Apparently it's raw fish served with rice. A place on 1st called East has dollar tuna and dollar salmon on designated days. Hot sake and Sapporo helps one get over the Nazi waiter. Having discovered this place, my intake of fish has tripled and I feel full of Omega-3. Mom would be proud!

The rest of my time is occupied by classes and rehearsals. An unhealthy amount of hours are spent in the tight quarters at Strasberg every week. Having picked different classes this semester I am met with new challenges and different interpretations of the method. Some agree with me, some definitely don't. To not overextend myself in terms of workload I took a class called Beginner Film Fighting. This proved to be one of the better decisions I have made over here, as I am understanding a lot in terms of asserting myself and not wimping out, which has been a problem in the latter years. My Sensei is none other than Benny The Jet Urquidez. Fighter of the year in 1978, film fight choreographer extraordinaire and star of numerous Jackie Chan classics! He is teaching us basic fighting stances and maneuvers used in film as well as whipping my procrastinating ass into shape! Check him out - the guy who's not Jackie.