Things are moving along now. I have a job that I am enjoying. The Swedish Espresso Bar is the perfect amount of busy, never get’s boring and them time goes pretty quickly. Although it’s only going to get busier as there was the giant New York Chocolate Show. The chef from my job took home best in show. and he is getting all sorts of press about it. See below, he shows up at the one minute mark and talks like cookie monster.

http://online.wsj.com/video/non-edible-treats-at-the-chocolate-show/28A77579-BE07-4A52-A302-2C3823F2EF8E.html (I tried to embed the vid into my blog post but it wasn’t working for some reason. If someone knows what I am doing wrong let me know.)

So the place is only going to get busier.

I have recently moved out of Hotel Jalapeno, the place I was subletting. I am now crashing on the couch of two friends in the Lower East Side. It is very sweet of them to let me crash here. After this I am probably going back to Hotel jalapeno, but who knows. That could all change.  So I am trying to settle in here in the big apple but don’t really feel like it yet. A friend, who will be visiting the city in December, asked what places I should recommend since I have lived there and I didn’t know what to tell him. I have been so busy I haven’t really had any “fun” just yet. I mean I have fun, life is what you make of it and I am having a good time despite the fact of being broke and sleeping on a friends couch.

Oh and guess what, the Lower East Side Couch I am sleeping on is across the street from that crappy crepe job that I got fired from. (see the earlier post First Day/Last Day) I get to walk by it everyday and thank my lucky stars that I got a much better job. Also douchebag doesn’t seem to work there anymore of if he does I haven’t seen him. He stupidly bragged to me about marrying one of the owners daughters so she could get a green card. I told this to my friend, the Grad Student, and she sent an anonymous email to the owners warning them to be careful with this guy. One phone call and their daughter could be deported, if he is bragging about it to me who else is he bragging about it too.  Hopefully they fired him too.

I have started writing on some projects again, some pilots, plays and maybe a return of The Timmy Wood Show but the NYC edition, who knows? I have some ideas and that could be one of them. Until then I post the old poster from the Texas Timmy Wood Show for nostalgia sake.

So I finally found a new job (again)

I got a job at a swedish espresso bar and it is amazing. They have great coffee and amazing food. One of which is espresso, cocoa, oats and coconut rolled up in a ball. They have their own swedish chef who makes all the chocolate truffles and he talks like Cookie Monster. Also the place is full of all these cute swedish girls, I am like the only guy who works there. Every one is ridiculously nice, for instance today one of the chefs made me a humus and vegetable sandwich today for my lunch, it’s a million times better than that stupid crepe place, people are nicer and pays better too.

I also played bartender at a local theatre that a few of my friends are associated with. And by bartending I mean just beer, wine and coffee, nothing fancy.

So I am working. That’s good, now I need to figure out a place to live permanently.

Oh, also I think I am going to take up boxing training. I am not even kidding. I am going to become am amateur boxer.

So I landed a job, finally after all the hunting, sweating and crying I found something.

The Grad Student found a posting on craigslist and forwarded it to me for a popular Crepes bakery on the lower east side. I sent my resume and promptly got a phone call asking me to interview at ten that evening (the place stays open late!)

I get there and there are at least seven other people interviewing. It is a tiny tiny place and the line goes out the door late at night when the bar lets out. I interview with the owner, turn on the Timmy Wood charm and sure enough she gives me a call later saying I got the job and I would start on Wednesday.

I arrive a little early and wait. I am supposed to get there and train (remember that word it comes into importance later). The owners are well aware that I have never made a crepe in my life they said that wouldn’t be a problem. This guy shows up. He is my age, white guy, looks like he is a model and also somewhat hungover. He is dressed douchey as hell and looks incredibly displeased to see me.

Douche: You here to train?
Me: yes!
Douche rolls eyes.

Douche then begins preparing the tiny restaurant, which only has one table and a small bar with a couple of stools. He doesn’t really tell me what is going on so I try and help where I can. I try and talk to him but he isn’t in the mood. All I get out of him is that he moved to New York from Pittsburgh about six years ago and used to model. I try and ask him more about the crepe place and he just shrugs me off. He starts preparing the food that goes into the crepes. I am just standing and listening, trying to pay attention so that I can remember this stuff for later.

Douche: Why are you standing like that?
Me: like what?
Douche: Like that. You are standing there with your arms folded totally isolating yourself.
Me: I’m listening to what you are saying.
Douche: You shouldn’t stand like that your totally isolating.
Me: How would you like me to stand?

Already we were off to a great start. He then says that he has to do inventory so the owner will finally pay him which she is late on (another great sign) We go upstairs and he starts inventor-ing.

Me: Hey I can help. You want me to just count the stuff over here.
Douche: Can you count sitting down?

I had sat on a stool. I didn’t even have a response to that. Then people came into order crepes, he went to make them, I then did his inventory. I did his work for him, which I was fine with.

He had to make crepe batter, again I thought this would be a good opportunity to know more about this place. He refused to tell me anything about the batters ingredients though claiming he wasn’t allowed to until I was officially hired (which I thought had already happened)

Douche: Just go familiarize yourself with the, I don’t know the stuff in the fridge.
While I did this I got him to talk about himself, which wasn’t hard.

Douche: Yeah, so I started professional acting when I was six years old, doing commercials and stuff like that. Then I got really into competitive swimming and did that for while. I stopped acting because I liked swimming more, from that I got into dance and got into Arthur Murray Dance School. I didn’t like that so much because I always felt like they weren’t really paying attention to me, just always to my partner. About that time I came to New York for a wedding. I was eighteen at the time and thought it was great, called my folks and said I was staying. I started trying to model and I partied a lot. Yeah, I was a club kid. At one time I was making two thousand dollars a week and now I am here making fucking crepes. Pisses me off. I have only been here like four months though.  Anyways, so now I write a lot. I read a lot too, I don’t own a TV though. Hate TV. I like to write poetry. Write now I experimenting with this Chaucer style, like Canterbury Tales, you know what I am talking about? So I am doing that but with an experimental, psychological horror thing with it. It’s really fucking cool. I also write lyrics for rappers, indie rock bands and my friend who does electronica. You’ve probably never heard of them though, they are all local.

I responded to all this as polite as ever.
Oh that’s interesting.
Club Kid, I didn’t realize that movement was going on as recent at six years ago.
What kind of lyrics, oh nice.
etc.

By the remember, he is supposed to be showing me how to make crepes and all. I would try and ask questions about them and he would brush me off. He also would get mad because I would be in the way. He at one point he told me to do the dishes, so I did, and then he said he couldn’t make batter with me there so don’t do the dishes. This went on all day in his condescending tones. He went out and talked on the phone for about twenty minutes with the owners (I assumed it was about his alleged payment he had alluded to earlier) leaving me to fend for myself. Despite having been there for five hours and still not knowing how to do anything.

Douche: actually you can go ahead and leave
Me: What?
Douche: Yeah, they are still interviewing and hiring so you can go.
Me(seeing what is going on here): And why is that?
Douche: I just don’t think you are good fit with us.
Me: I am not a good fit. Why don’t you elaborate on that.
Douche: You don’t have a boss here to look over your shoulder and tell you what to do. You seem like you need to be ordered around. That’s why.
Me: You are supposed to train me!
Douche: You can call the owners tomorrow if you like.
Me: I think I will.
Douche: Oh and I need that hat back.

I through the hat I had borrowed from the place and stormed out of there furiously. This asshole had sabotaged me. He hadn’t trained me and then phoned the owners saying I didn’t know what the hell was going on.  I was so mad I had to just walk until I calmed down, then I called my family, the grad student and my buddies back in Houston. They all allowed me to vent to them. It was very kind of them.

So, I am back on the job hunt. I think my friends and family were right. This is probably a blessing in disguise. Let’s hope I don’t run into the Douche ever again.

I am tired. This job hunt is killing me.
I  have been what I call “resume bombing” restaurants and bars all over NYC. Everywhere I go I get the same response “Well this is a good time because the holidays will be here soon.” If it is such a good time how come none of y’all have called me back! I checked my number on the resume to make sure it was the right one.
I have become incredibly aggressive about it too. I got word through the grape vine that a restaurant in the Hells Kitchen area was looking for employees. I also found out that the manager/owner would be there around 5:30. I staked the place out. I had already dropped my resume off there a couple of weeks earlier so I knew where it was. They only seem to hire pretty gay boys, I’m pretty boy and can fey it up if I have too. So I went in and talked to the hostess.

Me: Hi, I looking for S—-
Hostess: oh he won’t be here for another fifteen minutes, you can..
Me: It’s ok. I’ll wait.
and I did, until he arrived.
Hostess: He’s out there, reviewing the specials for the evening with the chef and the waiters.
Me: Thanks.
I walked out, he saw me and motioned to wait a moment. He and his partner sat at a table while he tasted the specials and the waiters made some jokes. Eventually they went away and I sat down.
S: Ok Tim have a seat.
Me: Hi, I hear you are looking to hire a host/waiter. I dropped off my resume a couple of weeks ago. M—- and S—- referred me to you.
S: Oh the same, M—- who disappeared off the face of the earth and the S—- who got another job.
Me: The same.
S: let me see the resume.

He went over it. Asked me questions about my work history and why I came to New York.

Me: I am a comedian.

S: Well then make me laugh
I hate when people respond this way, my stock response is usually
Me: Give me a reason to and I will.
He laughed.

We talked a little more about what I would bring to the restaurant.  I also told him I could start immediatley. He said he would think about it and call me (which I don’t think is going to happen)
I think he liked me and seemed to appreciate my tenacity but even I could see how I might not be the best fit for his restaurant. *Sigh* back to the drawing board.
I have another interview tonight, don’t want to jinx it by talking about so that will wait until a later blog.

I do have to thank my friend The Grad Student who has been keeping me afloat during this job search. She has been like that girl who helps out Keifer Sutherland on 24. She calls me with
“This catering company is having a cattle call on 44th st.”
“I’ll be right there!”
She also has a nose for finding out about free food and events going on about town or on NYU’s campus. One of which was a “Grad Student Welcoming Event”

Me: But I am not a grad student!
Grad Student: Who cares? And they aren’t going to know the difference. Aren’t you an improviser anyway?

She had a point so I followed her to the library where the event was being held. We stood in line to get in. There was a lady handing out raffle tickets.
“Now, everyone write your name and your grad program on the name tag.”

I was not going to commit to any grad program as they only one I could think of was a program called Drama Therapy. I had just met a girl who was studying that.
“We just put on tiaras and tutus and cry about our feelings.” Is what she explained to me whenever I had asked her about it. I figured if I became pressed for it I could use the same line.
As I wrote my name on the tag though I thought, why commit to any program. I will just answer the first thing that pops in my head. Hopefully by that time I will have downed enough free sandwiches and wine to satisfy myself.  Or if worse comes to worse I could just play the shy bashful student.
I entered the room and headed straight for the snack table.

By the way there was enough food there to feed a small country. NYU students want to know where your tuition money goes, well this is it. As I stuffed my face and just answered questions from fellow meet and greeters with whatever popped into my head first.

The Question:
So what grad program are you involved in?

The Answers:
Social work. I really love helping people, plus social networks are fun to.

I am studying creative writing with an emphasis on blogging.

Undeclared.

I am in a new program. You’ve probably never heard of it. It hasn’t even been named yet.

What program are you in? yeah I am in that one too. How come I haven’t seen you around?

NONE OF YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS!

etc, etc, etc.

The Grad Student has also snuck me into: Lectures on arts fundraising, The Sexuality and Gender Studies Centers new website launch and A Nutritional Eating Lecture. All of these offered free food and wine to NYU students, which I pretended to be.

That’s all for now. Off to the interview. Send your good vibes my way.

Ok where to begin.

So, first off I moved to New York City. Yeah, I did it. I am here now. Now I am job hunting. I decided to go back to the restaurant business. Everyday I have been walking through New York, visiting restaurants, talking with managers and dropping off my resume. I have been hitting all the areas.

The other day I totally hit the Chelsea area of town. A lot of the restaurants were pretty gay friendly, those were the ones I had the most success with. I dropped my resume off and as I was leaving I heard the bartender tell the manager.
“Fire Jared and hire that guy!”
I am straight as an arrow but they don’t need to know that until after they hire me.
Today, I was in the Tribeca area looking at restaurants. One I came in and the guy I talked said
“Hold on, let me call my manager.”
dials phone, turns and mumbles something away to the person on the other line.
“Um..Ok let me check.”
Looks me up and down.
“Yeah…uh-uh…yes…(still eying me up and down while I stand there awkwardly) yes..ok”
Hangs up
“We will call you if we need you.”
A couple more places, actually had me sit down and fill out applications, one had a pop quiz on the back. Asking me what different grapes where for a Bordeaux, what “braising” means. Thank god for the G1. I cheated my entire way through it.

I also was walking down the street and saw a pink purse lying in the middle of the sidewalk. I thought that it was weird and kep walking, then I stopped. I went back and picked up the purse and found a cell phone and wallet. I called the most recent number and told her what I had found. I then went and met the woman I talked to, she was a friend of the purse owner, and I delivered it. Later, the purse owner called and thanked me. She said she wanted to thank me in person tomorrow and offered to meet me for coffee. Good deed of the year!

What else..Oh I saw Micheal Showalter on the street and since he’s my favorite member of the State I got a little goosebump.  (Only one goosebump though!) Then he saw me recognize him and basically gave me the “Please please don’t come approach me, I am not in the mood.” I hate doing that anyway so I just kept on walking. I twittered about it and later he replied thanking me.

Despite the fact of not having a job it has been great seeing some old friends who used to live in Houston. Hanging with them has been wonderful reminding me why I missed them so much in the first place.

last but not least. I saw the ASSCAT show on Sunday with Bobby Moynihan. It was great! Also Pat O’Brien was in it and I saw him perform with a troupe called The Reckoning when I visited a Chicago a couple of weeks back. He was one the best improvisers I had seen then and still is. It was a fantastic show. Seeing the Asscat show reminded me why I moved to New York in the first place, to pursue comedy both in writing and performing. I gotta to get in on those classes at UCB and hit the open mic nights (i’ve only been here a week though so give me a break!)

also since I am a comedy writer it probably would not hurt if my blog was funny too and now just a run down of what I did that week. Alright, alright the next one will have at least some jokes in it.

I just looked at the date of the last time I wrote anything here at the old blog. What happened to my life when I once I had a livejournal and updated that things sometimes multiple times a day.  Whether it was a story from that day or just a joke I was constant on that thing. I was also young and stupid and said a lot of young and stupid things. That’s why I am not giving out the web link for it.

I am busy now. Which is a good thing. The moments I do get to write I apply to other projects that require a bit more priority then the blog does. Yet Thetimmywoodblog will again suffer as I say another promise that I will try and update you more often.  I will probably get distracted and forget but in this moment I am sincere to you weblog. I really will try.

Whatever nobody reads this anyway. Well Paul does. And hes a jerk. I kid Paul.

By the way I wish to clarify that is directed towards Salazar not  Montgomery. Although I don’t think the latter reads this anyway. Proof me wrong Philly boy!

So in the next couple weeks I will have started a brand new job and will be getting a new place to live. It’s like I am on the first episode of the Mary Tyler Moore Show.

But I thought you were looking for a place to live by yourself  Timmy. That way you could become a hermit and shun everyone away just like your heroes Ernest Hemingway, Alan Moore, and Treat Williams.
I know. I know. But I wasn’t really finding a place and it was getting harder and harder to look with all these projects coming together like they have. A friend called me. She said that her roommate was moving out and she lived in a condo with her sister and they needed someone pretty quickly. I told her that I was looking for my own place but I would come by and look at it. I did and it had too many things going for it.
1. Down the street from my new job. I could bike there if I wanted.
2. A little fenced patio area that is perfect for Hobbes.
3. They don’t mind that I have a puppy. In fact they seem excited by it.
4. Super big condo. Looks great and amazing cheap rent.

So despite my attempts to become a hermit I was thwarted and had to take it. I move in on Sunday.

Well that sounds just grand Timmy. You got a new job? What happened to Starbucks?
Starbucks was fun. Flexible schedule. Benefits for part time employees. Free Coffee. And probably the best looking customers in the world (all ages. I am not joking there are some MILFs, GMILFs, in fact some just plain old ILFs.) But my body yearns for a set nine to five schedule. And getting to work ar 4 in the morning, while it can be fun, really has taken it’s toll on me. I will be working at an Interior Design Showroom and it looks so much more laid back then Starbucks was. I am looking forward to it.

That’s all for now. By the way I love crappy 90’s pop music. I know how bad it is but I love it.

So i am not evacuating. I am staying in Friendswood with my parents and my brother and my dogs. Although now I may be regretting my decison as I listen to my parents argue about whether we are going to be hit by the storm or not.
I think I will take this weekend to catch up on my sleep, reading and work on some of those writing projects I have been putting off.
so if i don’t post for a couple of days that means Ike knocked out my power just like he did to poor Tina.

As many of you know, I am temporarily leaving with my parents. Which has led to many wacky adventures and by many I mean one.

I was talking to my dad and he said that he thought there was a mouse loose in the house. I thought this was interesting. My parents have lived in the same house since I was one and they have never had any pest problems with mice or anything of the sort.

Then last night I am in bed reading. It is about midnight or maybe a little later. I am not sure. I hear my mom bang on the door.
“Help. Help. We need you help.”
I leap out of bed and rush to their room. My dad is looking around the room.
“There was a mouse in our bed. I think it went under it.”
So I grab a shoe box to catch and my Dad decides to lift the bed. I stand ready. I am not going to let this mouse get by me. By the way, my parents room is a mess and their is shit everywhere.
So my dad lefts the bed and not one but FIVE FUCKING MICE RUN AT ME. All I had was a 8 1/2 woman’s Easy Spirit shoe box. My parents freak out. All five mice run into other hiding areas in the room. Dressers, desks, etc.
I know my parents are not going to go to bed or allow anyone else in the house to all these mice are out of there. I felt bad about it, but I knew we weren’t going to catch them either. I am sorry animal lovers but there was only one solution and that was to exterminate. I also had to be a work at 5:30 in the morning. So I was going by the “Timmy needs to get to bed ASAP” logic.
My father and I decided to abandon the capture the mouse plan and we upgrade our shoe box to tennis raquets. He had one and I had one.
We proceeded to then hunt down the mice one by one.
me: I saw one go under your dresser.
dad: hitting a pile of clothes randomly with raquet.
me: Dad, we know for sure that there is one under here let’s just get that one.
dad: Fine. We need a flashlight.
mom: I have a flashlight.
me: We don’t need a flashlight. If you just lift the dresser I can chase him out and then you beat him with the raquets.
dad: I found a flashlight.
mom: that flash light doesn’t work
dad: Yes it does. It worked at one point so it should work now.
mom: no, they were cheap. they never worked.
dad: let me try and put new batteries.
mom: new batteries aren’t going to change anything if the actual light won’t work.
dad; well we won’t know that until we tried now can we.
mom: why don’t you just listen to me. You never listen to me.
dad; i do too listen. I am just not agreeing.
mom: well why don’t you believe me. I know the light doesn’t work, I say the light doesn’t work but you are so stubborn you can’t believe me until you mess with it for an hour.
dad: it looks like someone took the bulb out of this light-
me: CAN WE FORGET THE STUPID FLASHLIGHT FOR A MOMENT AND FOCUS ON THE MICE!!!!

That was pretty much the whole night. We ended up catching (and killing, sorry PETA) four of the mice but I could have sworn I had counted five earlier, when they had attacked ran at me. I argued again with my parents as we tore the bedroom apart. But I was positive that their was another one.
After quite some time of looking under everything. I had almost given up hope. Then I saw him. I exclaimed of his prescence to the rest of the room as my father then played a modified game of “Whack-A-Mole” finally I deliver a final blow which somehow catapulted him up in the air and across the room. (I had hit him on a binder or folder of some sort which caused it fly up in the air. I am not sure of how the physics of that worked but it happened.
me: HAHAHA Take that! You thought you could hide from me! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HIDE FROM ME! Well you couln’t so take that! WHOOO! Thank you folks. I’ll BE HERE ALL WEEK! GOODNIGHT!

I walked back to my sisters room (that’s where I’m sleeping, she is at UT) and looked at my phone. 2:30 gotta get up in two hours. I felt bad that I had to kill those mice to get rid of them and yet I had a strong sense of accomplisment. I had a strong two hours of sleep, strong deep sleep. Sleep that i haven’t had due to stress and issues I have been having. It felt good.
Timmy Wood: 5
Mice: 0

So I seem to have come down with some sort of cold and I hate it. Man, this is what happens when you move in with you parents and your nine year old brother (I think he is the reason I got this cold.)

My grandparents also hired me to paint their walk-in kitchen pantry today. It is pretty big and the first thing I had to do was take out everything out of there. Holy Crap. They have enough food to feed an army. And what made me laugh the hardest was the duplicates of everything. All can foods came in multiples of five or six but they were all from different times. It was like they went to the store and couldn’t remember what they had so the just bought it anyway. And the nuts. Holy Shit there was so many containers of mixed nuts, cashews, walnuts, I mean I know my grandparents were drinkers but they really needed that many nuts. Grandma said anything I wanted I could take though. So I might take some cereal and chef boyardee that I found.
I need to get better. I have a ComedySportz show tomorrow night. A kids show Sunday Morning and a ComedySportz remote on Sunday evening (a remote is where a company hires us to go to them and perform at like dinners, conferences, or church functions.) I need to access my mutant power and heal up!