CutebutDeadly.net

Sup Qatar

in the last 30 days, these countries have visited my blog (listed starting with most hits).  sup ya’ll.  thanks for visiting.  looooove!

United States
Canada
United Kingdom
Australia
Singapore
Japan
Taiwan
Germany
Malaysia
Hong Kong
New Zealand
Norway
Sweden
Ireland
South Korea
France
Algeria
Poland
Phillippines
Switzerland
Spain
Turkey
Austria
Russia
Indonesia
Brazil
Italy
Chile
Grenada
Lithuania
Qatar
Mexico
Denmark
Tunisia
China
India
United Arab Emirates
Netherlands
Latvia
Czech Republic

LA isn’t built for rain

but something in me sure was, and i’m enjoying every moment of it.  in fact, i bought rain boots yesterday because there were four more days of rain forecasted.  and then i probably won’t wear them again all year, but who friggin cares!

anyhow, that isn’t what i really wanted to talk about here today.  what do i want to talk about, you might ask?

relationships.

no.  not those kind of relationships.  i’m talking professional ones.

see, i was driving in the rain today after dropping off a submission to an agency that i am very interested in, and while blissing out to the millions of rain splatters being wiped over and over from the windshield, i started to draw comparisons between professional relationships between an agent and actor, to a more personal, intimate relationship.

what i concluded to myself was that previously, in my own experience, i was not in the right relationship.  and what i’ve learned about being in a wrong relationship — professional or personal — is that i end up losing myself.  slowly.  pieces of me.  little by little.  when i’m in the wrong relationship, i start to forget how to just be me.  and i start thinking i have to be what other people expect me to be.  not so much in a conscious way, but subconsciously over time.

it was horrible for me creatively.  i was so blocked.  i became so unsure about what i was doing and THAT is actor suicide.

let me be clear that i didn’t think these relationships were BAD relationships.  they just weren’t right.  for me.  the last year was such a blessing for me.  being freed from my old rep was the most inspiring thing they’ve ever done for me.  it allowed myself to come back.  to be me again.  it gave me the motivation to make my silly, fun video, and even start this website.  and the crazy thing is, this return-to-my-true-self seems to just beget more and more work.  people started coming to me with work this past year and i didn’t even have an agent.  i’m not sure when the last time was that i was so happy and productive.

to be fair to the people before, i wasn’t so happy or enlighted when i met them, so they didn’t get to see the real me then either.  so it’s nobody’s fault that it didn’t work out.  we all just needed to find ourselves, yes?

i guess THAT is a sign that i’m ready for a new relationship.  professional, that is.  and i’m very excited to find the right people who will fit.  just.  right.

so…wish me luck, ya’ll!

and enjoy this cuddle weather.

my #1 cuddle buddy watching sag screeners with me

for all the late bloomers

i put some zeppelin on last night while getting ready to meet a friend for drinks and had a flashback memory.

i’m maybe 14 or 15, chatting on aol with a boy i met in a chat room — one of the few ways i could connect with the world at large those days…the world outside my sheltered chinese household.

the boy i was chatting with loved zeppelin, therefore i loved this boy.  i was eager to indulge in my newly purchased classic rock selects from columbia house.  he told me his favorite song was the rain song.  i hadn’t listened to that one yet, so i scrambled to play it in my cd player, and shit…it was sooooo good.

i talked to him as if it was my longtime favorite.  as if i was cool enough to have discovered it through my ex hippie parents or some uber hip older sibling.  i was trying to claw my way into a different reality.  a different culture.  a counterculture.  something different.  anything different.  something that represented freedom.  something that represented expression.

i fantasized about having parents that played the beatles for me when i was small.  i pretended that i had grown up air guitaring to hendrix, singing joplin’s lyrics, or losing my mind to the grateful dead.  instead i bought them all for a penny, but only if i promised to purchase four more cds at full price.

i scavenged whatever information i could from Dazed and Confused, from my friends and their parents, from books, magazines, old yearbooks, thrift stores.  anything.  in college i faked what i could about the extent of my musical knowledge.  the who?  oh… The Who… erm, yeah…love em.  i listened faithfully to classic rock stations.  i watched documentaries about haight ashbury.  i saw phish.  i dropped acid.

i am a late bloomer.  it’s nobody’s fault.

now here i am, having started a career in the arts “late.”  shhhhhhhhhhit.

my birthday is approaching.  sometimes i trick myself into thinking that time is my enemy — that it’s something that could run out on me if i don’t hurry the fuck up.  here i am, looking like a baby, but knowing the truth and wondering if that will sabotage me.  aye.  in reality these thoughts are what sabotage.

all i can do is push harder and be as authentic as possible.  be true to myself.  love myself.  and never give up.

these days i truly appreciate the depth my upbringing gave me.  i am who i am because of my struggles.  i love that i come from another culture.  i love that i had something to fight for.

i am eternally grateful for all the opportunities that have come my way.  they are truly gifts.  i am so blessed.

to all you other late bloomers out there:  never give up.

never ever ever give up.

from my shoot this summer with lee clower

another reason to cry at weddings

ink antidote

sometimes i poison myself with negative thoughts.

i have to remind myself constantly to change those thought patterns when they start to creep up — pessimistic, self defeating, highly personalized, isolating kind of thoughts [shudders].

some of you asked why i got my tattoos.  on one side it says, “pain is inevitable” and on the other, “suffering is optional.”  i wanted them to be a reminder to myself about releasing negative thought patterns, but i didn’t realize to what extent the ink’s power held…haha.  today on my commercial shoot for american family insurance, i was asked three times what my tattoos meant before i covered them.  over the last two weeks many other people have also asked.  these two little strings of pretty letters are opening up all kinds of positive discussion amongst strangers.  i love that.

today we talked about how important it is to live in the moment and appreciate what we do have in our lives.  there are so many people who are much less fortunate, and yet we get caught up feeling sorry for ourselves because of a breakup, or a car breaking down, not getting that gig we wanted, or someone being an asshole BLAH BLAH BLAH…jesus, sometimes i can’t understand how people can even say they’re having a “bad day.”  what?  are you starving?  do you have a roof over your head?  clothes on your back?  is that a freaking iphone in your pocket?  of your designer jeans?  sheeesh.

we should all be SO happy.  we should all be SO grateful.

i have my health.  i have my family.  i have my friends.  i have food to eat and clean water to drink.  i have more than i could ever need.  i am so grateful.  i am so so grateful.  thank you thank you thank you so much.  i promise not to take anything for granted.

F U toxic thoughts.  you gotta leave my brain.  i know that sometimes you’re gonna slip in, and i get that — there is no light without dark yada yada — i can respect you.  but guess what?  you’re only here to remind me how great i’ve really got it.

so, thank you.

now get the eff out.

i dream of peeing

yesterday, on what was a perfectly crisp fall night, the subject of pee dreams came up.  and when i say it “came up,” i mean i drank a big glass of water to save myself from the death thirst right before bed and thought, “shit, i’m gonna have to pee in the middle of the night,” which was immediately followed by, “OooOOooo, but maybe i’ll have a pee dream!”

then i twittered it.

have you ever had one of those?  i don’t know about you, but mine are kind of fun.  they weren’t fun when i was four because i’d actually pee, but luckily i’ve grown out of that.  i think.

so my pee dreams as they’ve evolved over the years:

i’m dreaming.  i don’t know i’m dreaming.  i have to pee.  i have to pee really really really bad.

sometimes it’s normal — toilet.  sit.  pee.  maybe it’s a hotel room, or a restaurant…i dunno, but it’s fairly normal.

otherwise — and here’s where my psyche is fucked up — there’s some obstacle.  and when i say obstacle it’s something like all i have is a urinal, or it’s some gnarly toilet out of trainspotting, or worse:  a sink.  yes, a sink.  MY PSYCHE forces me to PEE IN A SINK in my dreams.

THANKS, subconscious.  thanks a whole flippin’ lot.

then here’s the other torturous part.  regardless of the venue, without fail i will pee and pee and pee and pee, and it’s kind of satisfying, but i’m always in a rush to finish, and there is just a neverending supply of piss.  somehow i’ll finish, zip up, and try to go back to doing something, and then I HAVE TO PEE AGAIN!  i have had up to FOUR PEES in one dream.  FINALLY i’ll wake the fuck up and stumble in the dark to go pee for real.  and it’ll be one of the best half asleep pees EVER.

as torturous as these dreams are, i’ve grown to love and appreciate them.  it’s like the ‘life’ my [sub]consciousness creates while my physical self is in storage mode.  my dream life you could say (disturbing).  or maybe it’s the complicated way my brain tells itself to wake up my body.  an experiential reminder [or illustration] of how to relieve my bursting bladder maybe?

i dunno.  but it’ll be fun until i become incontinent.  livin it up while i still can…OH YES.

baxter in a sink.  instead of pee.

blah blah blah

it’s been a minute since i posted something new so i feel compelled to submit an entry.  look at that.  slave to you.  how’d that fucking happen?  look how much power you have over me.

anyway, i have been deliciously busy the last two weeks with a good number of auditions and callbacks to most of them.  i guess i can’t complain about not having too many auditions because i get called back a lot.  i’d rather have fewer auditions and a high callback ratio than a ton of auditions and a low callback ratio.  it means my agents are doing a good job submitting me for the appropriate jobs for my type.  AND that i’m doing well in the room too.  so yay.  high fives all around.  i smell a job around the corner.

i am also meeting with a theatrical agent sometime in the next two weeks.  this is an agent who i think will be a great match and we’ve been emailing to figure out a time to meet.  i’m very eager to get back into the game theatrically (film and tv).  ARGHHH I CAN’T WAIT.  but let’s not get too desperate now…it always shows.  chill the fuck out, patty.

actually…i’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.  i tend to get really excited about things…ideas, possibilities, etc..  maybe i get a bit overzealous and scare people off a little.  i dunno.  but it’s ok…i’ve also experienced the magic of meeting the right people and sparks flare and big shit happens.  i love that.  so anyway…i’ll just continue being my excitable self thank you very much and with the right match, things will just GO.

luckily, i also get over shit fast when things don’t work out — it helps tremendously in this business.  you’re rejected so much that you better be able to get over it fast, boy.  my advice to any aspiring actors out there:  get over shit.  FAST.  go to your audition and then forget about it.  IMMEDIATELY.  or else you’ll carry that into the next one and it’ll fuck your shit up and then you’ll hate yourself and then you won’t be able to stop thinking about it and it’ll fuck your shit up even MORE.  it’s a vicious cycle, and so utterly pointless, so just stop it.

this is one seriously loosened bowel of written poo and i won’t torture you with much more.  when there’s meatier topics, there will be more solidly formed poo.  still talking blog here, people.

someone slap me now.

uh…and here’s a photo i posted on superfuture yesterday.  woo.

time

as we all get older, time just seems to move faster.

the years are starting to fly, and i can’t even imagine how fast it will feel when i’m 80. every year an even smaller fraction of my life.

but life feels really good right now…
i can’t explain it.
it just feels good.

hey, relax

just the other day, my girlfriend told me that they say it’s healthier when people are total sluts in their sex dreams. and i realized that i am a total fucking PRUDE in my dreams. beyond prude. i’m like permanently programmed in PG-13. i mean, i don’t even feel comfortable calling them sex dreams; they are THAT far from being anything that’s even remotely exciting. they’re totally prepubescent dreams. it’s like i’m still an 11 year old dreaming about Uncle Jesse in Full House. heh…that was such a good dream.

plus, this makes me realize there must be something deeper holding me back. some constructs created from my childhood or something. and maybe it’s holding me back in life too…in my enjoyment of life and in achieving my goals. and THAT, people, is no good. no good at all.

me having dreams tamer than what they can show on network television is pathetic and i’m going to do something about it! so i’m going to try lucid dreaming again. i had this book in high school that taught me about it, and after some practice, had really focused my mind to recognize when i was dreaming. a few times i was able to stay asleep (i would often wake up) after the realization.

i am putting my intention out there to relax and have more fun in my dreams. why deny? no. i’m TAKING what i want…i mean, it’s a freaking dream!!! nothing can go wrong — it’s all in your head! everyone should try this!!

I think this will be a good exercise in life too. you know…the going after what you want part. not…being a slut. necessarily.

spoiled rotten

i am so spoiled. i am so grateful for everything i have — all the amazing people in my life, the opportunities that come my way, and the colorful days. there is no where else i want to be, and nothing else i want to do. if i could, i would kiss the hell out of life. fuck yeah.