If not a New Year's resolution, then a birthday one

Today I decided to firmly set a resolution that I've kinda, sorta been setting for well over a year now. By my birthday on January 26, I want to be living in a safer, quieter, more agreeable neighborhood on the Westside. Yeah, I've been talking about it for eons—but I really mean it now.

Having stepped out for a walk last night, I was less than a block from my apartment when a 40-something man asked if he could ask me something. Without really considering the silliness of his request, I said yes. Despite having waited at the curb while I crossed the street, he appeared sane enough. But when he asked if it would really be OK to ask me something, I began to grow impatient. When I said yes a second time, he pulled out his wallet and began to show me his ID. Writing him off as a loony, I told him I was in a hurry and continued on.

Feeling creeped out by this overly polite fellow, I walked another block or so before crossing the street and doubling back toward my apartment. No longer feeling safe in K-town, I decided to drive someplace more hospitable and take my walk there.

As I was hightailing it back to my building, Overly Polite Guy suddenly bolted across the street in my direction. While he ended up heading down a side street I'd just crossed, he nevertheless came within a few feet of me. By the time I reached my car in the garage, I'd decided that my after-dark walks in the neighborhood may be over.

Thankfully, West Hollywood was a much nicer place to take a stroll. No one asked me non-questions, tried to show me their ID, or ran across the street in my direction. Furthermore, I got a nice workout by climbing the hills between Santa Monica and Sunset. Compared with the creepy flatlands of K-town, WeHo is something of a paradise.

At the moment, I don't have enough to pay the deposit and first month's rent on a new apartment. But so what? One way or another, I'm getting out of this almost-ghetto. Overly Polite Guy wasn't the first person to make me feel unsafe in my own stomping grounds.

I've also decided to get back in the acting game. And not just toes-in-the-water back, either. Since a friend has offered to call around for me among the agents she knows, I'm going to ask her to do just that. I also plan to start attending casting director workshops again.

Who knows? Maybe I'll even make some acting bucks between now and 1/26. One way or another, I've decided that I can't keep idling. I've got to move forward with finding work, getting better digs, and becoming a social creature again.

For helping me draw this conclusion, I'd like to thank Overly Polite Guy. Without grabbing me or taking my wallet (the way those muggers did last year), he let me know that it's time to move on. Wherever you are, OPG, I hope you found someone to answer your question.

Back in the (acting) game

Sokrates needs to nail down an Irish accent for a shoot next month. He's now summoning the spirit of his great-great-grandmother, who somehow made it into the family without being a Protestant.

That was my Facebook status last night. I'm an actor again!

The project is a pilot presentation called Revivals, by Thesy Surface of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia fame. I'll be playing Uncle Dan, who's not only Irish but older. So my acting hiatus will be broken by a role that stretches me in not one but two ways. When it rains . . . .

During table reads of the pilot script, Thesy (rhymes with daisy) was having me read the narration. So I wasn't expecting to end up in the pilot shoot, where visuals will replace narrative. But when I got home from the final reading last night, I noticed a text message from Thesy. Would I like to play Uncle Dan?

Naturally, I replied in the affirmative. Regarding the age issue, I let her know that I'd (convincingly) played 79-year-old Adam in As You Like It. So during the next couple of weeks, this American Protestant actor will be doing his darndest to nail down an Irish accent. The result will hopefully make his great-great-grandmother proud.

Sokrates looks for closure, finds something else

"Closure is bullshit," says crime novelist James Ellroy. And in My Dark Places, which details the search for his mother's murderer, he takes it even further: "I wanted to find the fool who invented closure and shove a big closure plaque up his ass."

Since the man who murdered his mother was never found, Ellroy may well have a point. My mother wasn't murdered, thankfully, although something about Ellroy's words really resonates with me. If closure is, according to Merriam-Webster, "an often comforting or satisfying sense of finality," then it's not something I experience very often.

For a long time—perhaps most of my life—I sought closure on what I saw as the introvert/loner stage of my development. I was sure that, one day, I'd "come out of my shell," morph into the extrovert I was always meant to be, and find satisfaction on the social, professional, and romantic levels. So easy, right?

Ahem. The truth is that I've always been an inward-looking soul with a tendency to spend time alone. I left the nest early and have never been especially close to my family. While I've had any number of friends, dating and relationships have been the exception rather than the rule. Terrible, right? Well, not really.

If I've found any sort of closure, it's come from realizing that this is who I am. I usually enjoy spending time alone. I eschew "hip" and "popular" for my own style and tastes. I'm not an especially family-oriented guy. I've come to realize that fewer friends is often better. And I'm realizing that, by and large, I like it this way.

This is one of the reasons why I left white-bread Portland for oddball LA. After giving it the ol' college try, I found "America's most livable city" to be unbearably middlebrow and conformist—in other words, unlivable. So with my own sanity at stake, I ditched Mayberry and headed to Hollyweird. People tried to discourage me and failed—just as they failed to persuade me to marry, have children, reconnect with my family, or live in the same city for more than a few years.

If closure is bullshit, then so is "change." If it isn't, then why am I pretty much the same person I've been for eons? If anything, I've become even more solitary and introverted in the past few years. Yeah, I still socialize now and then, although I've gotten pickier about how and why I socialize. If I find someone interesting, then I'm happy to meet that person for lunch, coffee, or whatever. But meeting people just to "work on my social skills"? Forget it. My social skills are just fine, thank you—if anything, I find that it's other people who need to work on theirs.

So that's Sokrates Frantzis in the final months of 2009: Single guy in his mid-thirties; no romantic partner(s); occasionally employed; not sure if he still wants to be an actor; writing a blog; living in a borderline neighborhood; and driving a car that's seen better days. He also dreams about money, prestige, and women, even if he's not sure how badly he really wants them. After endlessly pondering how things could be better, he's concluded that he's more or less happy with what he's got.

Back to James Ellroy, last night I began reading his novel The Black Dahlia. It's a fictionalized account of a famous LA murder case that happened 11 years before his mother was killed. Engaging stuff—and I haven't even reached the murder yet.

I'm not exactly sure why I wrote this entry. Even if closure is bullshit, I wanted to give myself some clarity as to where I am on the evening of November 18, 2009. As far as I can see, I'm in a good place—and one that'll hopefully get even better soon.

About this acting thing

This past Saturday, I got back in the acting game. Kinda. Sorta.

Basically, I took a bunch of headshot/resumes to Actorfest and dropped them in 25 casting directors' drop boxes. I then walked around the exhibition hall a bit, superficially checked out the booths, and called it a day. Oh, and I said hello to acting teacher Kimberly Jentzen, who got a shout-out in my blog a while back.

So does that really mean I'm back in the acting game? It was a toe-dip in the water, at the very least. While I may not be entirely back in the game yet, I haven't given up on it, either. If someone has no interest in being an actor, then you won't find him at places like Actorfest.

Today I got a call from someone I know who'd been out of touch for a while. She was applying for a certain showbiz job and wondered if I had any contacts who could provide her with some relevant info. In that regard, I said I'd dig up some names and get back to her.

When this person asked what I'd been up to, I said that acting had been on hold so I could attend to my finances. I added that while I see myself as an actor, I don't see myself as only an actor—a trait that sometimes seems necessary in the business. My acquaintance said she hoped I wouldn't give up, stating that I have a great look for character roles and comedy. She encouraged me to keep going, saying that I'd eventually make the connection that would allow things to take off for me.

As I've probably mentioned before, my feelings about show business are ambivalent at best. Acting has provided me with some of the best moments of my life, yet I choke—choke!—when it comes to marketing myself as an actor. And unfortunately, acting talent alone doesn't get you very far in Los Angeles, California.

Ah, Los Angeles. It's funny how I started to enjoy it more as soon as I put acting on the back burner. And the irony isn't lost on me: Life in Showbiz, USA, became more enjoyable once I put showbiz aside. So the question is: If I get back into acting, how do I retain (or even improve) that sunnier outlook? Since the business alone can be hard enough, there's no need to dislike one's city on top of it.

In other news, I'm close to the end of James Ellroy's My Dark Places. Once I've finished it, I plan to check out another book with an LA setting. It might be another one of Ellroy's, or it might be something by another author. Either way, I like how My Dark Places is helping me feel connected to, and present in, the city where I live. In Portland, I almost never escaped the feeling that I belonged somewhere else—and that sucked.

But Portland's winter of discontent did bring me to LA's summer of whatever. Now that I'm here, my job is to turn "whatever" into "that's what."

Has it really been nine days?

All right, I'm back! At least for a quick update.

Work: Remember how I wrote that I wanted to ditch copy editing? Well, a series of editing jobs began to show up the next day. While the work itself is old hat, I'm grateful for the income and hoping it's the start of something better in my life.

Social life: Last Saturday, I attended a party with a Mad Men theme. Dress like it's 1962! I bought a skinny tie, donned a suit and sweater vest, and had a ball. The location was a friend's house in the Hollywood Hills. I love going to parties in the Hollywood Hills.

More social life: The following night, I attended a small dinner party hosted by someone I used to work with in New York. She and I hadn't seen each other since 2000 or 2001, so it was fun to catch up.

Dating: After dinner, my former coworker offered me some love advice. In particular, she encouraged me to be more confident and straightforward with women. How does one do that, exactly?

Books: I'm reading James Ellroy's My Dark Places, about his mother's murder. Wow. Great reading—and set mostly in LA, no less. I love reading about this city. Ellroy grew up not far from where I'm living at the moment, so I feel very "in" when I read about familiar streets and intersections.

Portland then, LA now: For some time, I was harboring resentment toward the place where I lived before moving here. While I liked certain things about Portland, other things about it just annoyed the living hell out of me. Even after I moved to LA, anti-Portland thoughts would show up at the oddest times. But that's more or less stopped happening now. Among other things, reading the Ellroy book has let me know that I've found a home in Los Angeles. I can leave Portland to the people who appreciate it and move on with my life here in LA.

Life in general: For some reason, things feel very "right" right now. Even though I don't have everything I want, I feel that I'm where I need to be and on the right track.

You: Thank you for reading this. I'm flattered that people are reading my blog. If you keep reading, I'll keep writing.

Sokrates leaps; prays for net

Sokrates was told that if he leapt, the net would appear. He's now lying on a stretcher, being told that the net was down for repairs.

That's the status I posted to Facebook last night—my own take on the saying, "Leap and the net will appear." If you couldn't tell, I can be pretty averse to change.

But I've come to realize that I need to change, at least in the way I make money. Having been a copy editor and proofreader for over 10 years, I feel I've reached my burnout point. I'm simply not interested in that kind of work anymore—and my rediscovery of writing hasn't helped. These days I'm interested in being the writer, not the guy who cleans up his mistakes.

So what am I gonna do? I don't know yet. As usual, this blog is where I come to think out loud. However, someone I know has me in mind to be a runner/PA (basically, a gofer) at the production company where he works. At this point, I'd rather run errands in LA traffic than listen to it as I try to edit marketing materials.

For a while, I was reluctant to share these thoughts on my blog. After all, a potential employer could come here and read about my lack of enthusiasm. But during the interview I had recently, it became obvious that my copy-editing days may be mercifully coming to an end.

So now I'll just say it: I'm sick of being a copy editor (and its lesser sibling, the proofreader). I want to write—and I haven't given up on acting yet. But until my creative pursuits pay the bills, I'll need to find other sources of income.

I fear that this entry will inspire all sorts of well-meant yet grating advice. During soul-searching times like this one, I hate getting advice that I haven't asked for. Then again, my aforementioned contact did think of me for PA work when I mentioned on Facebook that I'm looking for employment. So we'll see what happens when I publish this blog post.

People have been telling me to try stand-up again. (I haven't.) They've also been telling me to turn my status updates into a book. (Going back and collecting them all? Ugh.) And some have said I should put on a one-man show. (How quaint! Maybe someday.) All these suggestions! Don't people know I'm averse to change?

But I do get around to it every now and then. Telling the world that I don't want to edit copy anymore is, I hope, the first step toward finding something better.

My commitment for now

As I write this, I can hear what's hopefully the end of Friday-evening rush hour. As I've written before, I can't wait to leave this noisy, overcrowded, crime-ridden neighborhood for someplace more pleasant.

But I do plan to stay in LA. Why? Because it's my commitment for now. Even if I'm feeling ambivalent about show business, I still wish to stay here and see how things play out for me. People who suggest that I move somewhere else seem to have no idea how I feel about moving at this point in my life.

When I was an infant, my mother moved with me from my birthplace of Chicago to her parents' home in Cleveland. In my youth, I lived all over the Cleveland area. In my teens, I went to boarding school in Connecticut. Then came Arizona, where I lived and attended college for several years. Then, after a few months in Cincinnati, I made for Illinois to finish my degree.

Next up, New York City! During my four-plus years in Gotham, I experienced some of the best and worst moments of my life. After that, I sought mellower surroundings in Portland, Oregon. Nice place, but perhaps a bit too nice—I simply found it stifling after a while. So I moved to Los Angeles, where I've been living since July 17, 2007.

And now some people are telling me to MOVE? AGAIN? Sorry, peeps, but I've had it with the moving thing. Yes, I do plan to relocate ASAP to a nicer part of LA. But the City of Angels shall remain my home for now. While I may still be finding myself, I've grown tired of doing it on the run.

Yes, this city can be polluted, overpriced, overcrowded, and alienating—not to mention stressful. But you know what? I'm enjoying it more than I enjoyed relaxed, affordable, tidy little Portland. I need challenges in my life—and I'm certainly getting them here.

I'm not committed to a relationship, a job, or even my own family right now. At this point, I'm focused on my own growth and goals—even if those goals aren't always clear. What's more, the plentiful sunlight here is working wonders on the depression I've suffered for much of my adult life. If the payoff is a better mood and outlook, then I'm willing to breathe a little smog.

So that's my commitment for now: to find my way in Los Angeles, California. I'm also committed to maintaining this blog, so be sure to check back again soon.