Sights and smells (mostly smells)

Found myself fighting off a chest cold last weekend, successfully, I might add. After weathering three colds in Melbourne this winter, I certainly hoped that my immune system was the stronger for it in the end. So far so good. Being able to take it very easy for a couple of days helped too. I finished reading A Prayer for Owen Meany - great book, highly recommended.

The drama of the week centered around my roommate Emily's imminent departure on a 10 day cruise. She will effectively be away for 11 days, home for a couple of days, then off again for at least another week to spend time with family over Christmas. What about the cats, the warring cats?
E: Oh, they're staying here.
Me: Who have you got lined up to look after them?
E: Well, I was kinda hoping that you...?
Me: No, I'm not cleaning out their litter trays. And I don't want to be responsible for them for the better part of three weeks. I might be going away myself.
E: Oh, well that's ok, they'll be fine. They'll just poop on their poop.
Me: But you're counting on me to clean it out because I'm the one who will be living with the smell.
E: Well... yeah.
Me: What if you didn't have a roommate? Would you really be prepared to leave the cats on their own for that long?
E: Yeah, it'll be a disgusting mess when I come back, but I'll deal with it.
Me: What about taking them to a cattery?
E: No, they're staying here.
Me: Can a friend take them? You could pay someone to come every two days. It's not fair to them to just leave them.
E: No, I'm not paying someone. You know, I really need a roommate who can look after my cats for me.

At that point I really had to resist the urge to punch her in the face. I was furious. She seemed so oblivious to her own selfishness. I had to resist the urge to get sarcastic too; sure, it would be nice to have a roommate that did your laundry for you too, and cooked and did all the cleaning and wiped your arse when you go to the toilet. No? But you expect me to pick up your cats' shit. Impasse. And now I'm thinking I'm going to have to move out. I certainly want to be away as much as possible in the next three weeks.

She left tonight (Friday, L.A. time). And has apparently succeeded in lining up a friend to come over every few days to take care of the cats. A good thing too, and what a good friend to agree to that. Well, I would do the same for a friend, but I objected to the assumption I would do it, despite stating clearly I was not prepared to clean litter trays (topping up food and water bowls is another thing) simply because my own comfort would be affected if I did not (let alone the comfort of the cats). Perhaps our discussion sank in a bit after all. I still think I should move out by the end of January. A pity, but cats living in an apartment with no outdoor access available to them is less than ideal. I've been accommodating, but this is the deal breaker.

Cats aside, it's been a good week. As the year winds up and people start going away on holiday, numbers in Vinny's classes have dropped off a bit so he has opened up both nights to all students at no extra charge. So I went along on both Monday and Tuesday night, worked on a new monologue, presented a scene I've been working on with Alex for the last time, and scored a new scene and new scene partner. Ted is a very experienced actor - a real character actor - who has had roles in dozens of films (including the Spiderman series, directed by his brother Sam - yes, Raimi) and TV shows. Honestly, I didn't recognise him, but others in the class did and were a tiny bit awestruck so I IMDb'd and Youtube'd him. Check him out, he's very funny and a lovely guy to boot. We've got a great scene to work on together, funny and sweet; my character is his boss and I'm threatening to sack him so he can't brag about "what happened at the party" the other night when I was drunk. So drunk, in fact, that I can't actually remember what happened, I just know that something did! Ted and I bonded over New Zealanders vs Australians (he was recently in NZ filming something, and spent a lot of time there when he was a regular on Xena), and coffee. He's originally from Detroit, which being colder than L.A. is much more of a coffee city, and he pointed me in the direction of his favourite coffee dealer. The Supreme Bean is a coffee dealer, pure and simple - no cafe here - and is located in a light industrial street in North Hollywood. I checked it out today; the heavenly scent of freshly roasted coffee curled its way into my joyful nostrils as I got out of my car. I bought a pound of their Nocturne blend, which smells divinely rich and is described on their website thus: "... a blend of three peak roasted origins, enhancing the body while adding sweetness to the hints of smoke. Smooth and full bodied, with a long molasses finish that lingers in the mouth long after the cup is empty." Oh baby!

On Thursday I sat my driving test again. In preparation, I decided it wise to have some professional instruction so on Wednesday I booked a lesson. My instructor was a jocular fellow who ended up giving me close to two hours in the driving seat (I only booked and paid for one hour). He gave me several tips on securing a pass, or rather, minimising the number of points they could dock me, most significant of which was to move my head (not just my eyes) when scanning the road ahead and noting every cross street in this manner, to be sure the tester cannot fail to see that I am constantly looking, checking and scanning the road. We also practised The Stupid Move, aka the 30 foot backing maneouvre. Man, I hate that bloody thing! Do they test parallel parking? Not anymore, the 30 foot back has replaced parallel parking. Well, there's not much call for parallel parking in L.A.; most businesses have off-street parking lots so only passers-by use metered street parking that may require the parallel manoeuvre. Hurrumph! Anyway, all worthwhile because I passed the test without any problems - no accidental curb-riding this time, sister! - only losing six points (anything under 15, aside from certain "dangerous driving" errors - such as riding the curb, failing to stop at a stop sign, not checking your blind spot when changing lanes, giving your tester a heart attack etc - is a pass) due to erring on the side of caution. In other words, driving like a granny. Better than driving like a teenager! At the end of the test, after he informed me I passed, he asked if I'd had trouble with the backing manoeuvre on my previous test. He could tell, because I took so much time to check everything and prepare myself for it!

Once again, Regi came along as my "grown up", ie my accompanying licensed adult. This is a requirement for the test, because of course most people sitting for their license are not permitted to drive without a licensed person in the vehicle. Being internationally licensed, this doesn't apply to me, I was allowed to drive unaccompanied. As Andrew, my miserable previous tester, put it, I was able to take advantage of a loophole. Anyway, screw Andrew, I'm now official and eagerly await the arrival of another little plastic card with a hideous photograph of me on it; my very own Californian Driver's License. In the afternoon, Regi helped me record a voiceover demo. He does quite a bit of voiceover work, and has the equipment and fancy computer programs to create professional, polished recordings. He downloaded some advertising copy and I one in my Aussie accent, one in standard American (a gloriously irritating commercial for teeth whitener) and one in pseudo-British - "think sexy robot," said Regi. Ace fun. We'll do a couple of character voice recordings another time, then he'll edit the lot together and bring it to his agent. Yay!