Moving on

Hello faithful viewers!

I hope my life stories has captured your attention enough to make you want more!
If so, then please update your bookmarks because I have graduated from Blogspot to a Wordpress account.

My new blog is at:
http://thecheyne.wordpress.com/

I will maintain this blogspot account as long as possible, but I make no guarantees.
Here, my archives will remain, but if you want the new dirt (and who doesn't like new dirt) then follow me to Wordpress...

Passion on Screen

That's what I've been doing lately in case you've been wondering. I've been stroking my smooth noodle map and causing spastic and colorful explosions that appear as films on screen. To put it simple: I've been making movies.

It should be known, though that when I say "making", I mean in a more in-depth manner than they teach sheep in Film School: I write, produce, cast, costume, operate cameras, foley sound effects, edit, burn, design and promote everything along with my amazing stable of actors who donate their time and talent.

As you can imagine, all of this is very taxing. But, tonight I'm getting some public gratification -- in the form of a self-formed film festival. I've done the work of ten men and one woman by contacting and gathering other Hawaii filmmakers who all share the same position under the radar. The result is what we're calling "Misfit Movie Madness!"

Check our MySpace for the latest: http://www.myspace.com/5ftgiants

Rest in Peace, Koa

It was a sad day in our household yesterday. My boyfriend's other loving companion – his dog of 6 years – was hit by a car. He was put to sleep shortly afterwards.

Our house is fenced in, but according to some neighbors, the dogs had figured a way to overcome their boundaries lately.

We were unfortunately at work when the accident occurred, but Koa was not alone in his time of need. Our next door neighbor (whom he growled at quite often) picked him off the road and took him to the Animal hospital. He even paid for whatever medical services they did to him. A few neighbors even called the police and the Humane Society when they heard the accident occur. It was a comforting thought to know he wasn't alone.

I didn't cry until we were standing in the surgery room looking at Koa, uncapable of breathing on his own, the decision to put him down was one of compassionate mercy. I cried mostly because my boyfriend was hurting. He still is.

It was a rough emotional night last night, filled with random outbursts of tears, but a lot of love. I have a feeling it will be this way for a while. I'm trying to get him to focus on all of the good times they had, being very careful not to incite any feelings of guilt or loss. It's a fine line when dealing with someone who has just lost a best friend.

What he's most remorseful for is not having saying "goodbye, have a good day" in the morning like we usually do. In the hustle and bustle of getting off to work on time, we all take things for granted. The lesson learned is one of greatfulness. Be thankful for what you've got and treasure each moment.

Rest in peace, boy.

3rd Christmas

In domestic news, we just celebrated our third christmas. There is a great amount of joy in that. Being someone who was previously unable to maintain a relationship longer than one year, three years is a major milestone.

During the first Christmas, the gifts are very significant. They have to be. There's so much pressure around them. Depending on the magnitude of the relationship, the wrong gift could send red flags up the flagpole. Or if you're not careful, the flag of thoughtlessness could be raised in your honor. Never ever get a gift card for a first Christmas. Unless you are planning for the relationship to be over soon.

The second and third Christmas should bear gifts relevant to the comfort level of the relationship. If you're in the comfortable slob phase – the level at which appearance doesn't matter anymore because you both love each other regardless – then any silly ol' gift will do. As long as it's sincere and meaningful.

I got a yo-yo and a DIY motorized T-Rex model this Christmas. I gave him a poster with a frowning eagle on it that says "I am smiling." We both loved our gifts. The thought that went into them mattered more than the objects themselves. It sounds like a hackneyed cliche, but when you reach this level, you'll understand as well.

The problem is that you start to get comfortable with these sort of whimsical gifts and tend to give everyone the same level of presents. Be aware of this - I don't think Grandma would appreciate the humor you find in some "Smile! Jesus loves you!" t-shirts. Or maybe she would.

Over here, over there

To my esteemed readers:

I apologize for my infrequent posts. I have been overtaxed and in-demand for the last couple of weeks, so I haven't been able to muster up enough strength to develop the caliber of articles you have gotten used to reading.

So much physical and mental exertion went into the opening week of my play "Who the Fil-Am I?". This production marks not only my first main role in a stage production, but also my fascination and need to reconnect with my Filipino heritage. A significant role in both the humanitarian community as well as my life. Thanks to the influence of the playwright and my wonderful castmates, I have come to the elective conclusion that I need to go to the Phillipines during 2007.

One of the great things that has spawned out of the stress from the production is the birth of a moviemaking collaboration between my castmates and I. Under the moniker 5' GIANTS, we write, fund, act & distribute our movies. We are currently in the pre-production phase of shooting our 2nd movie, a very unconventional Christmas feature titled "Lady Snow". Needless to say, it's just one more thing to worry about, but like the play, it reaps a big reward.

One of my Christmas presents came early this year. I am overjoyed to say that a play I wrote will be produced and performed by the Honolulu Theater for Youth as part of their "Christmas Talk Story" production. It feels great to know I'm helping children & their parents bond. Unfortunately because the opening night of the play coincides with my own play at Kumu Kahua, I won't be able to attend. I will, however, be catching the later shows. It is still one of the best presents ever.

What do I want for Christmas this year? A good night's rest.

Neckties & Nooses

I've always enjoyed the novelty of Halloween and the costumes that come along with it. Whether it's funny, frightful or just fucked up, donning a costume showed ones creative spirit that isn't regularly on display. I've always dressed up and was always surrounded by others who shared in the same spirit.

"How can someone get sick of Halloween," I would think to my naive self.

Then, I became an adult. I moved out of my mom's house and away from my brother and sister -- possibly my only remaining link to my childhood -- and grew up. It's the same old story: boy realizes that the business world isn't as much fun as they made it out to be in 80's movies and eventually hides his creative self in a box left up in the attic.

As the years passed, I found it more challenging to partake in the holiday I once looked forward to. Pumpkin carving dive-bombed on my list of priorities and I would scoff at the fools who would walk around town dressed in costume.

Then, one year -- the year I broke up with my ex Walter -- I suddenly felt the urge to partake in Halloween again. I think I hit my peak soon after that when I started to frequent the gay clubs a lot. It was part self-rejuvination, but part habitat. Gay men (more than any other species) know how to celebrate Halloween. Costumes and curfews be damned.

Then I stopped going to the clubs. I found myself in the same loop only this time, my co-workers were wearing neckties and pleated slacks.

Against all odds, I dressed up for Halloween today. It's nothing elaborate (I'm dressed as Short Round from the Indiana Jones movies), but I proceeded to go about my Halloween as usual. I expected to see people outside of my office dressed up.

Nope. No one. Not a single damn person.

It was a harsh fact to face: my generation is getting older and they reserve their creative spirits for "the night life". So sad. When are you ever going to get the chance to come to work in a revealing outfit or one smeared with blood ... and not get arrested?

The spirit of Halloween fights to live on inside of me. I just hope next year things will be different. I'll be damned if I'll be the only one dressed as a pregnant nun again.

I conducted a very interesting social experiment the other day.

For no particular reason -- other than the simple need to look fashionable -- I was pristinely dressed in my Sig Zane aloha shirt and chocolate brown pin-striped trousers. The outfit displayed a simple sense of sophistication and a feminine, yet masculine, persona; The outfit said "I have a credit card and a tendency to buy expensive things and I'm not afraid to use either of those character flaws!"

Knowing very well that my appearance would strike dollar signs and commission-based wet dreams into the minds of salespeople, I took full advantage of that and frequented the most expensive shops in the mall. I don't mean like Williams & Sonoma Expensive, but ridiculously expensive; The type of store where a pair of socks are $230.

If this had been a normal shopping day, the salespeople would have snubbed me in favor of making commission off of a Japanese tourist. Not this time.

As soon as I walked in, most of the salespeople acknowledged me and even offered to tour me around the sections; They offered their suggestions of what to purchase, but I declined saying hackneyed phrases I'd heard in films:

"As if I needed another one of those..."
"That is so last season..."
"$500 for an umbrella? What do I look like, a cheapskate?"

It was an incredible rush; A form of retail-therapy I'd never experience before.

It was good while it lasted, but I don't think I'd ever frequent those shops again, lest I fade into being another trendy, ignorant, innocuous no-talent hack like Jordan Segundo.

I'll rumble for ya

Found in the Missed Connections section on Craigslist Honolulu:

Dear Jordan Segundo:
I saw you yesterday on Nuuanu Street while you were signing autographs. I was too embarrassed to come up to you and get one too. You are very cute. And I don't know anything about you except what I saw yesterday, but your smile is contagious. I hope you didn't die in the earthquake.

Don't people know? Jordan Segundo is the musical equivalent to a cockaroach. The very fact that he is still signing autographs after losing severely on American Idol is a testament to his unaccountable longevity.

Behind the Scenes

This is webisode 2 that I produced a while back. Yes, there I am in all of my shrunken t-shirt glory. At least I rocked it.

This rehearsal was particulary challenging for me because we were faced with the task of mocking our castmate. I later understood the goal, but I was still unable to bring myself to say anything mean about my castmate MJ. It took us a good 10 minutes before we could say anything remotely mean. I thought MJ had the easier job since I was ripe for mockery. He did take a jab at my acting skills though, implying that I was amateurish. I really don't pride myself on my acting skills, so I admitted defeat just so we could get the damn exercise over.

After the "tense-ercise" was over, we were able to channel our character's contempt for each other in a way we couldn't have had we been as chummy as we were up to that point. As you can see from the webisode, we escalated it to throwing furniture around. By the time I left rehearsal, my testosterone was oozing out my ears.

But acting isn't all about yelling (unless you're in a David Mamet production) we also dance our asses off.