flight write

2001.08.24 16.09

I am finding that the only time I spend writing the blog is when I'm airborn. Need to find time on the ground. Here's a skinny on what went on this week.

Got in late Sunday night. Locked door. Door made funny noise. Next morning, got up and got ready. Reached to open door. Doorknob wouldn't turn. After 3 minutes of tinkering, I gave up and called the front desk. They sent a maid up to try to open my door. No luck. She then went to get EVERY maid from the hotel. For 20 minutes I can hear the door card reader mechanism over and over and over. The front desk guy finally comes up and reassures me that everything will be fine and that I should ''just watch TV or something.'' I turn on the TV. Barney is on. I hate Barney. I turn off the TV. Nearly an hour after I wanted to leave the room, a handyman guy comes up and slides a wrench under my door. ''You'll have to pull the pins out from the hinges. Do you know where those are?'' asks Mr. Handyman. Duh. I feign ignorance and say, ''Hinges? Do you mean those karate guys who wear all black and you can only see their eyes?'' After 30 seconds of dumbfounded silence on the other side of the door, the front desk guy finally speaks: ''No, no, Mr. Shields, not Ninjas. Hinges.'' I briefly consider dedicating another two minutes of my life to this, but then decide I need to get to work since this is deadline week. One minute later I pull the pins out of the door and it nearly comes crashing down onto me thanks to Mr. Handyman leaning on it. I leave and they assure me a replacement will be there when I return. I get back and what looks like the same door is there again. It works, though, so I'm not saying nothin'.

Keep having thoughts above cool stuff to put into my Back to the Future 4 script. Wondering what the odds are that I could get that made? Better than winning the PowerBall? And speaking of, we had an office pool on Tuesday to win the PowerBall. My Project Manager lives in Delaware and he worked out a spreadsheet showing how much we'd all win based on the amount of money we put in the pot. One person was going to get 37% while I was only destined for a meager 12% (or something small like that). The 12% people briefly considered a revolt over the 37% person, but we were too busy with work to debate the issue. We only won 7 bucks, anyway. I put in $10 into the pot for Saturday night (tomorrow). I also have another $5 that's just for me, although I forgot the ticket in Philly. I don't come back til' Tuesday (my birthday is Monday and I'm sticking around Houston to be super-available for wise men (or women) bearing gifts.

Planning my return to Los Angeles for the Rock Star premiere on September 4th. There is another premiere the next day in San Francisco, home of my dropdead gorgeous friend Cathy Lloyd, but I have to be back in Philly by the 5th to start our next phase. I believe Oktober, my roommate, might be attending. I asked Puce, but she never responded. I guess she gets tons of mail, plus I had serious doubts she'd even say yes since she doesn't know me from Joe Dirt. I asked for 4 tix this time so my people at work could be properly compensated for their work on MarkWahlberg.com. Fingers are crossed. Wish me luck. I could always sneak in, don't get me wrong. They had this thing on TV a few years ago with these two guys who sneaked into the media pool at the Academy Awards and were interviewing celebrities as they walked down the red carpet. They didn't get caught. Matter of fact, security people there actually helped them get past some barriers that were in their way. Just carry a big expensive betacam and a microphone while wearing a suit and you're in. My home video version of Back to the Future (starring myself and my friend Carl) was based on this same premise that it doesn't matter who you are -- but what you're wearing. We dressed up in tuxedos and walked right into my high school prom -- only it was the 1991 prom and we were NOT invited nor did we have dates. That didn't matter. We partied. We danced. We ate shrimp. We even filmed scenes for my little movie. I doubt I can do that now that I'm approaching 32 years of age. Maybe I can sneak into a college prom. Hmmm...

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Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed here are my own only and in no way represent the views, positions or opinions - expressed or implied - of my employers both past and present. « i'm back \| Main \| baskin robbins + 1 » flight write 2001.08.24 16.09 I am finding that the only time I spend writing the blog is when I'm airborn. Need to find time on the ground. Here's a skinny on what went on this week. Got in late Sunday night. Locked door. Door made funny noise. Next morning, got up and got ready. Reached to open door. Doorknob wouldn't turn. After 3 minutes of tinkering, I gave up and called the front desk. They sent a maid up to try to open my door. No luck. She then went to get EVERY maid from the hotel. For 20 minutes I can hear the door card reader mechanism over and over and over. The front desk guy finally comes up and reassures me that everything will be fine and that I should ''just watch TV or something.'' I turn on the TV. Barney is on. I hate Barney. I turn off the TV. Nearly an hour after I wanted to leave the room, a handyman guy comes up and slides a wrench under my door. ''You'll have to pull the pins out from the hinges. Do you know where those are?'' asks Mr. Handyman. Duh. I feign ignorance and say, ''Hinges? Do you mean those karate guys who wear all black and you can only see their eyes?'' After 30 seconds of dumbfounded silence on the other side of the door, the front desk guy finally speaks: ''No, no, Mr. Shields, not Ninjas. Hinges.'' I briefly consider dedicating another two minutes of my life to this, but then decide I need to get to work since this is deadline week. One minute later I pull the pins out of the door and it nearly comes crashing down onto me thanks to Mr. Handyman leaning on it. I leave and they assure me a replacement will be there when I return. I get back and what looks like the same door is there again. It works, though, so I'm not saying nothin'. Keep having thoughts above cool stuff to put into my Back to the Future 4 script. Wondering what the odds are that I could get that made? Better than winning the PowerBall? And speaking of, we had an office pool on Tuesday to win the PowerBall. My Project Manager lives in Delaware and he worked out a spreadsheet showing how much we'd all win based on the amount of money we put in the pot. One person was going to get 37% while I was only destined for a meager 12% (or something small like that). The 12% people briefly considered a revolt over the 37% person, but we were too busy with work to debate the issue. We only won 7 bucks, anyway. I put in $10 into the pot for Saturday night (tomorrow). I also have another $5 that's just for me, although I forgot the ticket in Philly. I don't come back til' Tuesday (my birthday is Monday and I'm sticking around Houston to be super-available for wise men (or women) bearing gifts. Planning my return to Los Angeles for the Rock Star premiere on September 4th. There is another premiere the next day in San Francisco, home of my dropdead gorgeous friend Cathy Lloyd, but I have to be back in Philly by the 5th to start our next phase. I believe Oktober, my roommate, might be attending. I asked Puce, but she never responded. I guess she gets tons of mail, plus I had serious doubts she'd even say yes since she doesn't know me from Joe Dirt. I asked for 4 tix this time so my people at work could be properly compensated for their work on MarkWahlberg.com. Fingers are crossed. Wish me luck. I could always sneak in, don't get me wrong. They had this thing on TV a few years ago with these two guys who sneaked into the media pool at the Academy Awards and were interviewing celebrities as they walked down the red carpet. They didn't get caught. Matter of fact, security people there actually helped them get past some barriers that were in their way. Just carry a big expensive betacam and a microphone while wearing a suit and you're in. My home video version of Back to the Future (starring myself and my friend Carl) was based on this same premise that it doesn't matter who you are -- but what you're wearing. We dressed up in tuxedos and walked right into my high school prom -- only it was the 1991 prom and we were NOT invited nor did we have dates. That didn't matter. We partied. We danced. We ate shrimp. We even filmed scenes for my little movie. I doubt I can do that now that I'm approaching 32 years of age. Maybe I can sneak into a college prom. Hmmm... « i'm back \| Main \| baskin robbins + 1 »