SXSW Trip

Yesterday, my ex and I went to South by Southwest. Yes, I know. Many people don't get how my ex-husband and I can remain best friends. Truth is, we both admit we should have never married. But if we hadn't, we wouldn't have had a beautiful girl, so there are no regrets between us. We plan to work together in the "movie business." All ready we are working on a screenplay together:  AMOR SIN FRONTERAS. If you are interested in the treatment, let us know. ;)

Jose and I went to see WHEN YOU'RE STRANGE. This documentary on the Doors was awesome. I felt such a connection to Jim Morrison. That's not to say that I'll ever be as famous as him. I can only dream. LOL But with his artistic spirit. And as I sat in the theatre I half-smiled and closed my eyes. There was someone else out there who felt like I do. Who felt as tormented as I can at times. And he channeled it into his art like I try to.

Austin was so beautiful. So many performers played in the streets, along the sidewalks. People danced and hugged everywhere. And I thought why can't it be like this everyday in Laredo? The mentality's different, for one thing. But that can change. For a few years in the '60's, the nation was changed by its youth. Why can't young people do that again? Why can't we do that again?

Day Off

During my day off, March 17th, Saint Patrick's Day, I did not drink green beer. I did, however, drink a loaded lemonade. My cheeks flushed, my metabolism rose, and I felt good in general. Have to stay true to the writer stereotype, after all. ;)

I went to San Diego, Texas, to conduct an interview and was serenaded. Guess I've still got it. :D The funny thing is that one of the songs the gentleman played for me fits well with my movie, and I told him so. Well, he agreed to let me use it. "Anything to help the struggling artist," he said. I couldn't contain my enthusiasm. I hugged him and thanked him and said I couldn't wait to work with him. Who knows but that I was to conduct this interview specifically to meet him?

It amazes me how much has fallen into place for AVENIDAS. The lead character, Daniel, was cast a few days ago at Starbucks at the corner of McPherson and Del Mar. I met Jerry Rangel, a senior at Cigarroa High, and he was perfect. The only "problem" was that he recently inked a four-leaf clover behind his ear, but one scene written into the movie, and BAM! Problem solved. He was so passionate and enthusiastic about getting the part that he excited me! I can hardly wait to work with him and Cindy.

Letters have gone out asking for producers to invest in my movie. Let's see how that goes. I've yet to get a bit, but I'll keep at it. I have no choice! LOL

Conversations with the Opposite Sex

In the wee hours of March 13th, I went out for a drink with said cute bartender, hereafter referred to as CB. Did anything happen? Of course not, I'm a married woman! She doth protest too much, huh? :) Seriously, he had an Amber Boch and I held onto a longneck Corona most of the time we talked. And did we talk, right down to what might happen if Texas does seceede from the Union. Interesting stuff to me and to him. I'm glad that I found this person. Very rarely does one find another who can keep up with current events and still give his/her own opinion without being influenced by the media. A person who has many of those opinions so that the conversation does not run dry. I think one of the most interesting points of the night was when CB asked if I was prepared to be poor. LOL He was roommates with a poet so he understands the struggle of the artist.

You know, I have many friends of the opposite sex and every once in a while, I do get the urge to hug them, to hold their hand. And I wonder: does this constitute cheating? The hugs I know do not, as I've seen many friends give hugs, both the side pansy ones and the full on, boobs-to-the-chest clingers. But what about the hand holding? To feel a person's palm is to know much about them. With the look and feel of callouses or smooth skin, long or short nails, dirty or clean nails, you can practically write a book on a person. And how long should the hand hold last? Does that influence whether a person is "cheating" or not? I don't know. Some people might suggest for me to put the shoe on the other foot. Would it bother me if my husband held hands with another girl? Hmmmmmm. It depends. Yes, it would bother me if he held hands with her while deeply staring into her eyes while the faintest hint of a smile played on his lips. So, I guess I now know the answer to my question. A quick hand hold to get the feel of the other's person life is acceptable, but not one that lingers into the hour.

But back to the topic. Talk about a digression, eh? And I'm about to go into another one because this next conversation was not one with the opposite sex. Earlier, on March 12th, I finally got up the nerve to ask editor Meg Guerra if I could write up an article for LareDos, and she said yes. My jaw dropped and my heart almost skipped a beat. LareDos is on my list for top ten publications to get a byline in. Seriously. I couldn't have received better news. Unless I found someone to finance my film and get Danny Trejo to star in it. :)

Later, work at the restuarant was so slow. I made thirty bucks. Thirty bucks for tired, pounding feet. But one of the patrons did manage to surprise me. He asked how I was doing. Up until now, not one patron has asked about my wellbeing. So I told him that he made my day and that I was going to blog about him. He said he'd like that and to mention that his name was Alex. He blew me away again. No one's ever given me his/her name, save for the time I asked that young man if he would read for me. He has yet to call, by the way. So, here's my advice for the day: ask your server how he/she's doing. You just might make their day, especially if the tips aren't up to par, like they were last night. ;)

A Costly Mistake

Extra! Extra! Have you seen the newest addition to Webster's Dictionary? Daniraschel is now in there as a verb for taking things for granted. Example: I danirascheled my table and they did not tip me! The editors are even thinking of including a picture of me right next to the definition. A defining moment in my life. :)

Boy, did I ever learn the value of the word gratuity. I waited on a table of teenagers celebrating a friend's birthday. Now, to me, it wasn't that long ago that I was a teenager. Twelve years. Over a full decade and all that. But I still knew to tip the waiter/waitress. So imagine my surprise, and anger, when I went up afterwards to help the servers' assistant bus the table and there was nothing, nada, zip waiting for me. Not one dollar. Not even an upside down penny. 

I want to blame my lost tip on them--that today's generation is self-indulgent. That today's generation doesn't appreciate or respect anyone or anything. But, in reality, I should have known better. I should have asked a manager to ask the table if it was okay for the house to add the gratuity to the bill. I missed out on a good fifteen bucks because of my naivity. 

As a writer, I know that I can't share high concept information with just anyone, or that information can be stolen from me. That is a costly mistake I hope never to make. Never take anything for granted, whether in the writing world or the restaurant one. That is the life-long lesson I learned for March 11, 2010.

Thanks, Time Warner

Since Time Warner has been working on our cable today, March 10th, to better our experience with them, the Internet has just started working, and I have so much news to report! I've hated having to wait! I'm an Internet addict! :)

First off, not much going on in the restaurant part of my life. Tips average out between $40-$50 a night, which is not good, but not bad, either. I'm building up my confidence, if you will, so I'm taking it all in stride. I was also finally invited to a get-together at Buffalo Wild Wings, so I'm starting to feel like I fit in. Or, at least, I'm starting to be accepted.

But much is going on in the "movie" and "writing" part of my life. Yesterday, while serving, I met a mother and son. The son looked perfect for the role of one of the main three, and I'm dying for him to read for a part. I actually gave the mother my contact info in case they are interested. It took awhile for me to work up the courage to talk to them about the movie. I didn't want them to think I was some type of stalking perv. LOL Let's see if they call.

Also, my friend Rosie, who's daughter is playing the role of Genesis, the lead female, found another young man who is interested in reading for the main character Daniel's part. I saw his pics, and I gasped. He's Daniel! I gave Rosie the script today to pass along to him. I can't wait to hear him read. Jude and I will meet with them on Saturday so he and Rosie's daughter can read together. I want to see the chemistry between them.

But perhaps the most exciting news of all is that I am now a contracted writer! Lobo Video Productions, LLC contracted me to write a spec screenplay for them! Yay again for pursuing dreams! There's only one way for me to describe this--I'm stoked. I can't give much information because I signed a confidentiality agreement, but the setting is very dear to me, so I'm excited to be a part of this project.

Day Off Drama

March 8th was my day off, so my ex and I decided to meet up and discuss this screenplay we're working on. And we're do we go? My favorite restaurant in the whole world and still, despite my setback which you shall soon read about today, favorite place to work: Logan's. :)

So, while we're there, another server (and dear friend) brought the day off request book. "That's right!" I thought. You see, I needed to request March 19th off because that's the day the Doors' documentary is screening in Austin. I got a ticket to go because I'm a member of the Austin Film Society. To my dismay, the slots allotted for requests were all filled, so it looked like I might not make the screening. Boo! But I digress.

Then, the ghost of my expensive Bon Jovi concert ticket tucked away in my panty drawer demanded that I request April 10th and 11th off, so I followed my friend to the manager's office to fill out the new request for leave book, which began with the month of April. And who should be back from vacation? That's right--the head honcho himself. How's that for alliteration? :)

He asked me, "How's it going?" In the deepest corners of my heart, I knew he knew. He KNEW what happened on Saturday. He then gently chided me about my meltdown. He wanted to know why I didn't ask for help and if I could handle the pressure of being a server? Um, I did ask for help and I have served at a busy restaurant before, but I didn't want to point any fingers or say any names, so I kept quiet and took it. I smiled and reassured him that next time I would.

He then wondered outloud if I'd be better suited as a hostess. A demotion? Really? In every place that I've worked, I'd never been demoted. Everyone knows that in a restaurant, servers make the most money. I refused the new position and he agreed to let me stay on as a server with the option of going down to hostess if I so choose to do so.

Never before have I had to prove myself. My background spoke for me: graduated second in my high school class, received a full-paid academic scholarship to Texas A&M International University, graduated summa cum laude in 2005, worked salaried positions, etc. But all that doesn't matter in the restaurant business. So, as I returned to my booth, I was forced to step back from the situation and ask myself:  "Do I have what it takes?"

Again, I realized this was more practice for the world of Hollywood and writing and publishing and just being an artist:  do I have what it takes to endure?

And the answer is, quite simply, yes.

Sunday Lunch Crowd

Today, March 7th, I worked with a different crew. I'm used to the evening shift: Oscar, Bear, Yaya, etc. I'm used to Bear's sense of humor and Phelp's singing: "I was going to deliver the bread but then I got high/I was going to give them their meal but then I got high/My table walked out on me and I know why/Because I got high/Because I got high/Because I got high." LOL You gotta love him. :) And I'm used to Frank or Koko being the bartender and Rafa and Jerry being the servers' assistants. So when I read my scheduled time as 12:00 PM on Sunday, I thought I'd read someone else's slot. But no, there my schedule was in black and white. I'd read it right.

And it was good. Meeting and working with different people adds to the writer's toolbox. Unique personalities, eclectic mix of dialects, learning to work under different managers with different requirements for a successful shift all contributes to helping me grow as an artist, especially the latter. As an MFA student who plans to work with not only professors but agents, editors and producers, I must tailor my work to fit the need without losing the essence of what I wrote. Basically, without giving up my passion or soul. 

So, where I'm at, I think I'm getting the practice I need. ;) 

Nothing a Broom And Some Tears Can't Fix

So today, March 6, 2010, I broke down on the floor. The restaurant floor, that is. What should have been no more than an eight-top table doubled to sixteen. Sixteen people all from out-of-town who wanted to be waited on right then and there because they wanted to go back home. Um, there's a reason we were called waiters and waitresses before the catch-all term server was born. Not only because we wait on you, but because you have to wait to get the attention you desire. It's a two-way street, people. This is were the Golden Rule really comes into play. I seriously wanted to walk. Just wanted to say, "To hell with it," and walk away. But the bartender paraphrased another Biblical verse for me: "It'll all be over soon." And it was. That the bartender's cute didn't influence my decision at all to stay. ;)

Where does the broom and tears fit into this story? Since the table saw me cry, I got a $40 tip from them. Woo hoo for salty rivulets on the cheeks! So those tears fixed a potentially disasterous night for me.

Also, I swept those darn peanut shells again for my sidework, and the manager gave me a new broom to use. Boy, does a broom with nice whisks that aren't splayed open like the legs of a $2 whore on nickel night make a difference. I swept up those peanuts faster than Lassie runs to tell Dad about Timmy falling in the well.

And I was reminded that when we use tools that are just right for the job, things move faster. If it were up to me and money wasn't an option, I'd start filming next week. But I know my screenplay just isn't "there" yet. I need to flesh out Act II. Make Act III worthwhile and earned for the main characters. So, if I take my time, use the right "tools" for the job, i.e. the right dialogue, the right angles, the right equipment, I will create a movie that stays in the minds of viewers for years to come. And this is what I desire more than anything else. As a story teller, this movie will follow me for the rest of my life. Maybe even longer. My last thought for the night is this: do I want to be known for a mediocre movie, or is there more that I can do now to make sure I'm known for something that has staying power?

Looks like I'm going to have to whip out my new broom to get into those corners of the screenplay that need tweaking. :) 

So, Are You Taken?

It's now March 4, 2010. Second day alone on the floor, and I can now balance three plates. One in each hand and another wedged between my arm and clavicle. I feel so accomplished. Pulitzer, you're up next. :)

As far as tables go, my highest number today was a six-top. And, this time, I only forgot to bring out one salad. Woo hoo! Waitress-of-the-Year, here I come! Now, if only I could remember to check up on the rolls when they are cooking so I won't forget to bring those out. Well, maybe I'll win that Waitress-of-the-Year award next year. ;) I do worry about when I can't use the "I'm new" excuse. I figure I'll milk it for a week. Maybe I can get over that darn learning curve quickly. 

My sidework involved mixing catsup caps in a pitcher of hot water to take off the little flecks of dried red tomato and filling up the salt and pepper shakers. Oh, yeah, I was rocking the table tops until I found out I faced my sugar caddies in the wrong direction. Well, that's how one learns: by making mistakes.

And, I admit, I enjoy scooping out butter and plopping them into a souffle cup. There's something calming about the back-and-forth movement, about being alone with churned milk fat staring back at you. 

Another "thing" I don't mind admitting is that I like the attention I get. Someone practically asked me out, if you consider a request to hop in your pants a date, and I replied that I'm married. His response? "Happily?" LOL 

In other news, I was contacted by an independent film production company in Los Angeles. They are looking for a bilingual spec writer and asked for a writing sample, so I sent one their way. *Fingers Crossed* Hope they like my style. I'd love to be taken by them. For some reason, I don't think they'd mind if I was married. ;)

First Day Flying Solo

It's March 2, 2010, and I waited on my first tables without my trainer's guiding hand.  No one there to remind me how to ring in a 10 ounce sirloin. No one to tell me how to modify a bar order to ring up a Clamato.  What's a Clamato?  All I know is, it has worcestershire sauce, so that mix isn't dancing on my tongue anytime soon.  I guess my face was perpetually frozen in an I'm-so-screwed stare because a few servers came up to me and asked, "Are you okay?"  If you're reading this, thanks, Jenny, Frank, and Oscar.  :)

I was told management put me in a slow section so I could try out my wings.  And I believed it, until the hostess asked me, "Are you ready for a nine-top?"  I smiled and said, "Sure."  Nine people at one time?  Nine glasses to balance with two hands!  What was I, an octopus?  An octopus doesn't even have that many arms!

As the night wore on, I got tables with more than four people at one time:  an eight-top here, a ten-top there.  My favorite, though, was the last one for my shift:  a five-top with one guy who told me I was pretty.  I made sure to give him extra croutons.

Finally, closing time arrived.  Two servers argued about sweeping our section, so I gallantly stepped in:  "Don't worry, guys, I'll sweep."  Believe-you-me when I say I never want to see a peanut shell again.  I mean it.  Ever again.

My watch read 11:27 PM when I gave the manager my receipts and signatures proving I'd done my sidework and tipped the bus boys and bartender.  My tired feet meandered to my Beetle a few minutes later, but I still held my head high.  I can honestly write that I've never been prouder to earn $59.  :)