Monday, January 19, 2009

At a Loss for a Good Schmooze

So I'm a the Sundance Film Festival, tagging along with my producer aunt & uncle for the third year, and instead of pounding Stella Artois like I usually do I'm Googling resort jobs. And then getting distracted by the "work at home" ads I keep coming across. I've always been told that if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. And the halfways-intelligent side of me knows this to be true. But then I keep wondering... does that make me a sucker? I don't know. Right now the only thing I'm sure of is that I'm wasting my youth on the internet. I mean, who flies across the country to a ski resort in Park City Utah and spends the entire time online searching for jobs?

What I should really be doing is what everyone else is: schmoozing. I need to schmooze. I need to schmooze the hell out of this exclusive festival and it's celebrity entourage. Only problem is, I have nothing to schmooze about. One can't schmooze without purpose. One must know one's goal in schmoozing; one must have at least a modicum of content to schmooze about. One must stop using certain words relentlessly (schmooze) simply because one thinks they are hilarious.

Conclusion? I am useless here. I have not ever made, nor probably will I ever make a film or be in any type of production greater than the motionless cameo I made in that Poison music video two summers ago. I should hit the Stella tent asap. Again, Craigslist is a wasteland and I know 10 years from now I'm going to regret being married to my computer during my most attractive years.

Eating more popcorn, mulling over the meaning of the John Krasinski film I saw this afternoon, and hoping for inspirational dreams.

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