These are a few stand alone excerpts from letters written while I was 
working around Hollywood (and at a pet groomer).

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I can't help but wonder what effect it has had on the entertainment 
community that the only people who can afford to join it are either 
leaching off their parents (thanks again), have sacrificed a few years 
of their early zealous life to working and saving, have no extra time 
because they work multiple jobs, or are criminals. I wonder what it 
would be like if you could get kids straight out of school into 
creative positions while they're still, well, creative. I used to joke 
that this town is filled with trust-fund brats and criminals because 
the only people that afford to live in LA are trust fund brats and 
criminals. But enough about the money. "Give unto Caesar..." makes 
more sense everyday.

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Went to the premiere of "As Good As it Gets". Very good, a lot of 
fun. The party afterwards was fun. I had to laugh... by the end of the 
night it was just a bunch of us underlings, Woody Harrleson and 
some randoms dancing. What made it funny was the idea that  some 
company exec signed off on an open bar and private party and half 
of it would only be appreciated by underlings, a few randoms and 
Woody Harrleson. Their loss.

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I'm going to keep this short since I'm expecting a phone call. In the 
future I'll write some more. I'm on the job hunt. It's slow and 
torturous, but we'll see. Meanwhile I'm still bathing cats. It was 
funny in a sick way: The other day we had an absolute hellion in and 
I got a couple slices to prove it. That night I went over to my friend's 
place. We were sitting around talking and her little cat was sniffing 
my drink and started to lick an ice cube. She grabbed the cat, 
embarrassed, and apologized. I laughed. I said, "I had cat spit 
injected straight into my arm today, I don't think a little on an ice 
cube is going to hurt." It's strange how we get warped by our jobs. 
Just look at all of us who worked at Lofty.

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I got called in for some day work yesterday. It spanned into today. I 
spent SEVEN HOURS each day walking! The Pyro unit on Starship 
Troopers wanted to blow some s**t up, but as a part of a 
compromise with the city for breaking the sound ordinances, they 
had to flyer the surrounding area telling the people to expect the 
noise. Now the simple fact is that, at that distance, it'll sound like a 
car backfiring and it'll occur twice around nine-ten o'clock. But they 
had to tell everyone and the flyers had a phone number for the 
production office on them, "For any other questions." The lady at 
the office told me that people kept calling and asking if the noise 
was going to kill their pets (no s**t). I told her to start asking the 
people how much their dogs weighed  (to see if they were safe).

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Once two guys were sitting around talking about Hollywood. One 
guy asked, "Why the hell does Hollywood make such plastic 
movies?" The other man answered, "Because all of the people that 
make them live in plastic worlds."