October 23, 1991
Wow. Bad day. I feel so pissed right now, probably the most discouraged I've been in the 6 short weeks I've been out here.
Last night, I got a call from a student at USC for an audition, plus another random call. Attempting to erase the random call message, I inadvertently erased the USC one. I awoke this morning, pen in hand to write down the name and number of the director, only to hear about the great insurance I could buy.
Strike one.
At 12:30, I called my old friend Jerry Chapman, who said I didn't have the right kind of training to be worth his time and money.
Strike two.
At three or so, I made my way into town to drop in on SAS Talent to get their view on possible representation. Mitch Clem had told me about them, and suggested they might be a good place to look into. I headed into Hollywood armed with a description of the location of the building (no address). While I think I got the building, I was unable to locate the office. Big waste of my time, but I can still call or write them tomorrow.
Foul ball.
And here comes to pitch ...
When I returned to my car, I was surprised to find that the parking regulations changed in the middle of the block, which meant I was inadvertently located in a permit-only zone. $28
Strike three. I'm out.