Update
It's been nineteen months since I wrote in this thing. A lot of shit's gone down in that time. I'm not with Liz anymore. She got bored of SoCal and headed for Europe, telling me I could go with her if I wanted. I don't want to leave because my family's here, so I told her that I'd stay back and meet up with her whenever I get the time to fly out. That got a good laugh out of her and she reminded me that being what I am, I shouldn't give a royal fuck about my family ties. She then told me that I shouldn't count on being able to find her if I didn't go with her now. Just like that, she's gone from my life and it hurts me a hell of a lot more than it should.
The truth is I can't cut myself off from my family, just like that. Especially Mallory. She's going to be 15 in February and I want to be around to see her grow up. I'm going to be 23 forever. I'm not going to be celebrating any milestone birthdays ever again. The only way I can really see the passage of time is to see it in the faces of my family, as corny as that sounds (and I know it sounds damned corny, trust me). I guess the day I'll have to leave them is when they start to notice that they're not seeing any time passing in my face and begin to question it.
One thing that changed for the better is my status as an actor. I've got an agent and he knows everything he needs to know about me. I met him and a producer at my job as a bartender and he agreed to take me on after I did an audition for the producer. I got the part in a cheap horror flick no one will see, but it's good experience for me and the hours mesh perfectly with what I need. I've told my agent the truth about me. He's thinks it's great, which seems like such a Hollywood thing to me, and said that he'll work on finding me night work. I'm not sure if there's such a thing in show business, but I'll let him figure that out. He must be thinking about the longterm benefits of having a client who doesn't age. I'm also hanging onto my job at the bar. Job security. Priceless.
The truth is I can't cut myself off from my family, just like that. Especially Mallory. She's going to be 15 in February and I want to be around to see her grow up. I'm going to be 23 forever. I'm not going to be celebrating any milestone birthdays ever again. The only way I can really see the passage of time is to see it in the faces of my family, as corny as that sounds (and I know it sounds damned corny, trust me). I guess the day I'll have to leave them is when they start to notice that they're not seeing any time passing in my face and begin to question it.
One thing that changed for the better is my status as an actor. I've got an agent and he knows everything he needs to know about me. I met him and a producer at my job as a bartender and he agreed to take me on after I did an audition for the producer. I got the part in a cheap horror flick no one will see, but it's good experience for me and the hours mesh perfectly with what I need. I've told my agent the truth about me. He's thinks it's great, which seems like such a Hollywood thing to me, and said that he'll work on finding me night work. I'm not sure if there's such a thing in show business, but I'll let him figure that out. He must be thinking about the longterm benefits of having a client who doesn't age. I'm also hanging onto my job at the bar. Job security. Priceless.