so I hadn’t mentioned this yet, but principal photography for megaman finally ended in early september. we shot for SEVEN MONTHS on this thing.

immediately following megaman I started working on a new project the eaters. it’s a feature-length film about a band on the run from zombies, trying to get from brooklyn to long island. it’s a great script and has a very tight cast, and I enjoy working on this film a lot.

but so here’s where the irony comes in. like I mentioned we shot megaman for SEVEN FUCKING MONTHS. megaman is a sci-fi action film and there was TONS of fighting involved. I came out of it without a scratch.

yesterday, on the set of the eaters, I was about to go up a small flight of stairs when I somehow lost my balance and fell off the first step — which was like 1/4 the height of a normal step — and sprained the living CRAP out of my ankle.

what the fuck.

update: it’s not a sprain, it’s a CUBOID FRACTURE. it’s a rare thing to happen apparently, and I’m finding a real hard time finding a good resource on it online (other than people with this fracture posting on forums). anyway, there’s your update.

close your browser if you haven’t seen the outcome of this year’s nathan’s hotdog eating contest.

if you have seen this year’s hotdog eating contest … well, you already know the outcome and know what the title of this entry means.

it’s a sad day for sure, but this means the annual contest will FINALLY get interesting. wait ’till next year!

I decided to cut myself off sweets during the week. I gotta do something about all this winterfat.

…writing a very catchy pop song, so good that the lead singer is unable to hit the notes in the fucking CHORUS (read: a key part of the song that is repeated several times) so that is he forced to duck an octave lower — completely diminishing the dramatic effect of the whole song?

I’ve seen this band’s performances on tv 3 times now and the singer did this each time. so it wasn’t like he was having an off night.

it’s not important who this band is. what matter is these guys are a big indie-to-major success and even write their own damn songs.

I think it’s inexcusable.

I’m gonna take it easy this weekend, having spent every weekend in march on shoots and such. I just came off of a weekend that entailed a sunset to 3am shoot on friday and saturday, capped off with a 9pm to 7am shoot on sunday night/monday morning. it’s really fucked up my sleep schedule.

been watching distance on and off before going to bed. man that is a good film.

so as you may know, I’ve been really looking forward to the static lullaby / hopesfall show coming up next week, as I see it as the “one last chance I give emo before I turn my back completely” show.

but as you’re surely to know by now, it would be a really stupid idea for me to go with the current state of my foot. I’m not even supposed to stand on it, let alone dodging suburban teens letting out their suburban aggression to korn playing in the intermission. but I had been seriously weighing my options and up until about 5 minutes ago I was seriously 50-50.

well, 5 minutes ago I found out the tour was CANCELLED. someone in funeral for a friend got sick and they called everything off. thanks for potentially saving me from further injuring my foot, FFAF!

emo, you’re okay.

oh, update on my foot situation. I took it to a specialist yesterday and turns out I don’t need the bulky cast and the crutches afterall. I was fitted in a protective boot that was described by one as resembling a stormtrooper and life could not be better (considering). so yay.

so I took a visit to the ER after work yesterday. here’s how it went down:

19:00 - checked in.
20:30 - a cute nurse introduced herself to me (hanna) and said she’d be taking care of me. unfortunately this would be the first and last time I see her.
21:00 - was put in a wheelchair (my first time in one) to take some x-rays.
22:30 - a dr (dr rothberg) checked my foot, then the x-rays.
22:35 - it’s official: I have what’s called a jones fracture.
23:00 - another dr (dr glassner) begins plastering up my foot
23:10 - it is confirmed that he indeed watches scrubs.
23:30 - given crutches.
23:45 - taken to x-ray room for additional x-rays. turns out the shift changes at 24:00 and so I have to wait until the next crew comes in.
24:10 - additional x-rays are taken. the attendant at the x-rays counter recognizes me and calls me “bro.”
24:20 - have lesley come collect me at the hospital. realize I hadn’t had dinner.

all in all — a long fucking day at the hospital. and now I have crutches, which suck.

so I saw pulse over the weekend. it’s becoming tradition that whenever I see a movie with tracy we end up seeing a horror (the previous one was the exorcism of emily rose).

so along the lines of contemporary horror films I wasn’t terribly freaked out by this one either. but there was one scene that blurred the boundaries of “how in the fuck did they do that” and “oh my god that is FUCKED UP” that I felt was worth the price of admission. if you go see it I bet you’ll think the same too.

my foot’s still in pain (after 10 days). I decided I’m going to the ER tonight.

my days have been consistently jam-packed for quite some time now. I have my wushu (what I refer to as kung fu to most of you) M, T, Th (sometimes Sa) nights, my acting class on F night, and rehearsals for the class on W. weekends have been either film shoots, rehearsals, wushu class or a combination thereof (sometimes all three). I’ve never had a schedule like this where I never had a scheduled free night… hell, back in my swimming days I still had sundays off.

well that all changed last saturday when I totally fucked up my foot at wushu practice. I think it’s just a nasty sprain. basically I came down on the side of my right foot, heard a crunch in my foot and rolled off it ever-so-not-gingerly. hurt like a MOTHERFUCKER the first 2 days and today it’s slllooowwwlllyyy beginning to feel better. I’m taking at least a week off from wushu or until I can comfortably put weight on my right foot. and it’s amazing how slowly this week is going. it’s only still tuesday? today I thought it was friday.

so of all weeks to not be working out — I’m gonna eat my weight in turkey come thursday. I’ll be on the next season of “biggest loser” so look out for me.

anyway, hope everyone enjoys the only awesome holiday in existence come thursday. known around here as … propsgiving.

so it’s like seriously 90-something degrees these days. hot, muggy, sticky, life-draining. so I had that going for me when I went to my kung fu class the other day: my class is held at this medium-sized studio in a fifth-floor walk-up in chinatown.

air conditioning? fuh-huck no.

so in the blazing heat and no a/c and only HOT TEA (!) to drink I had my work out. needless to say I was pretty goddamn thirsty when I stumbled out of those five floors of stairs back down to ground level.

I made my way to one of the non-descript chinese grocery stores (as there are many in … chinatown) and went straight for the drinks fridge. I grabbed the biggest thing I could find, which happened to be a tall orange can.

PAPAYA MILK, it said. 24oz of milk, papaya, (some chemical), (some other chemical), and (the last thing listed in the ingredients list). for $1. it could either be AWESOME or THE FUCKING WORST THING EVER. why not?

I pop the thing open. it’s filled with this milky orange substance, as expected. first sip…

… inconclusive. I can’t decide if this stuff is good or horrible. keep drinking…

… the stuff has that fruity pungent smell, as expected of something with papaya in it. let’s keep drinking…

… I just don’t know about this. I may be leaning towards it being “gross”. but I’ve come too far to go back now (over half the can is gone by this point). gulp gulp…

… ok, wait, surely this stuff isn’t made of REAL milk. look at the label: MILK. not powdered milk or some sort of parmalat-like super shelflife milk. I dunno why, but I keep drinking (about 80% of the can is gone by this point)…

… ok, let’s look at the back of the can. maybe it’s made real close by so it wouldn’t have been sitting on the shelf for too long. towards the bottom of the can:

MADE IN TAIWAN. OH MY GOD.