So today Elite was really nice and put on a pool party.

Being Elite, and amazingly on the ball, they forgot to invite a couple of us, and then forgot to pick up 90% of the rest.

Yea that was what we call "First class douchebaggery".



Elite also said that they would send Maxime home for the weekend (he got the Prada exclusive and the flight was 40 euros, so there shouldn't have been a problem). Elite doesn't want anyone to leave that they are now being very selfish and asshole-like. They told Maxime that he had a flight booked for 8:30 this morning, so he spent 25 euros in getting to the airport, to find out that they hadn't booked the flight, they had put his seat on "reserve". So yesterday the seat was 40 euros, today it was 250. That was a very underhanded way in keeping him here.

I also learned that I can't try and keep in shape by doing push ups or sit ups... I get bored and forget about them/ procrastinate.

I don't mind doing my own dishes... but i seem to be the only person.



So here are some cool things I have now know due to wikipedia and my ridiculous lack of things to do with my time.

Medical terms.

Moron: An adult with the mental capacity of a 8-12 year old.
Idiot: An adult with the mental capacity of 2 and under
Imbecile: Lies somewhere in the middle


My IQ (132 according to an online test a while ago... I would retake it, but I'm worried the fashion industry might have dumbified me) is about 32 points above average.

So... as I was saying yesterday before I had to cut it short due to people wanting to get a head start on the blog and reading over my shoulder...


Actually I don't know what I was talking about.


Had a couple castings, one of the guys knew NAM and told me to tell them to call him. So yea if you guys read this Andrew Soule says "Hi" and "call me"... Maybe you guys could like, tell him to choose me... hint hint...


No castings today, just chilling on my computer, reading my book,

So first off lets start with the budget.

I have spent a total of 700 euros in 41 days. Now I have to explain why it is so high. That accounts for metro for the first few weeks, at 1 euro a trip, or 3 euros for a day pass, and food for everyone for the first week and a bit (before I flipped out on Denis for eating all my food, and then later at Anton for the same thing). Since I have moved to the new place I have spent close to 50 dollars a week on food and travel. Just to help reason it out, 1L of milk here costs 1.45-2.00 ($2.60-$3.60)... The only cheap thing here is beer, and vegetables from the market (when I can get there). Also all through fashion week having people come in here and eating my food and drinks (then saying they didn't).

Thats on transit and food (transit managed to eat more of it then I did in the first 4 weeks) and a vogue (which pissed me off, fuck the 5-6 pages they said we would get. It was 2 fucking pages with 7 pictures on it, so it wont even help my book).

Currently I have 33 days and about 11-12 hours left till I go home, and about 34.23 euros left.

Its about 22 euros to take the train to the airport.


More to come later, when I don't have someone reading over my shoulder!

The shows have been this week.

Due to the fact I didn't land anything, all I have done is sleep all day, then crash parties.

Some how Norwayne is always already inside... Even if his cab leaves 20 min after mine...


*Insert stuff about party here*


I got home last night some time in the morning, and while I was sitting on my porch eating food, I heard some stories from some friends about a couple people being not-so-faithful to there girl friends back home... I had a good laugh...


Now its back to 2-4 castings a day... 5 days for life to pick up...

So

Today not as bad as yesterday. Had 3 castings, first was for a much bigger guy (needed muscle), second was cancelled 4 days ago, and the last one was for Calvin Klein.


So we go into the casting and the waiting room looks a lot like a green house. Glass celing, white walls, and a black bench for us to sit on (so all the light reflected into the chair and made it kinda hot). We were meant to be there from 14:00-16:00 for the casting, so we show up at about 14:30. Then they have us wait for 2-3 hours, in this oven of a room. To then come out, sit down, say "oh its hot in here" then flick through our books and send us home. 6 of us waited, 6 were turned down, we were all skinny, they were looking for another big guy. Thats why the agents get paid the big bucks.


Then we went to Duomo to watch the soccer game. Italy lost. The people I was with didn't understand "these guys will beat you up if you boo Italy", so that was nice, always needing to change positions because the closest fans would always start leering at them... Yup I saved one of Elites models, they should pay me for that shit. Risking my life is 6 digits right there.


Other then that, my computer is acting slow because it has become the communal computer and lots of new shit is on it. And the other people here are still assholes.

Battery is finished. Time for bed

I hate to be "That guy", but this SUCKS, he sucks, they suck, it sucks, Milan sucks, its just sucks.

It was all good and fun (be it boring) before fashion week. When fashion week appeared, people reverted to there super-ego shows its ugly face. That part of them they suppress to fit in with society, the part that keeps them sociable, yea all the getting turned down or the promise of big money makes everything suck.


Random thoughts, half assedly organized, and very little caring going on into what is though. Read at the risk of changing your view of me. If all else fails you might just get a little look into how my head works (or doesn't).

I miss my bike, and the Don Valley, and the coop (yup), and rock climbing (how ever bad i might be), and speaking English at a level higher then 2nd grade, and being treated like some punk kid instead of like dirt (or worse, American), and knowing what I am buying when I shop, but mostly the rides in the Don Valley (even the one just before coming here where I went over the bars twice and missed a berm, and hit a tree, and went off the back, and ran out of energy and had to walk a hill, and the sore arms and sore legs, and the burn of the lactic acid on the way home, and the stupid flat I got from bad rim tape (oh yea mark you might wanna fix that...oops))


Tonight showed me how much of what everyone says is a facade. Everyone has a face, but I never realized how deep it went, until it disappears.

People change, cliche I know but its fucking true. I'm sitting here on my laptop kinda pissed off about the lack of work, and Nico come over with some friends and they start laying into me about being Canadian (oh man you guys are so original, like thats never happened before. "Canada is like American but worse" and other such amusingly ignorant shit.), both being from South America, they are known through out Milan as being the biggest asshats around, just made me wonder why I'm here.

Nico was cool, now hes a prick. He makes some money now hes God, bookers bend over backwards to please him, and people latch on so as to be cooler. So naturally he does what he likes now.

Milan blows (have I said this before?), I think God was playing a joke on everyone when he made Milan. Probably thinking something like "Oh man this is gonna be great, I'm going to blend, fashion, asshats, pricks, drugs, dirt, cars, models, and remove everything else, and drop it on this flat as day old coke plateau.. Oh its gonna be awesome".


SO


Here it is.


If life doesn't pick up after fashion week ends, I am going home. If home isn't an option, then I'm travelling around Europe. Try and stop me.

My time is the 1st of July. Not better by then, I'm going Traveling around Europe, or headed home.


Reason? This shit sucks, I don't need stuck up pricks in this gate to hell they call "Milan" telling me they think I'm 'fat' or 'ugly'. Why should I be stuck in the fucked up city with these fucked up people? All its doing it making my life worse, when there is no reason. What I got from the start, and apparently nobody else has got, is my life was awesome. Work all week at a half decent job full of awesome people, and then when I wasn't working I could do what I wanted. The only time I got called fat was when my ass was getting dropped on the trails, or I couldn't climb a 5.10+. This is not a cool business, nobody likes it unless they are making money, and even then they all know in the back of there head it wont last. So as a great General once said (forgot his name) "It's not retreating, It's attacking in the other direction". So I shall cut my losses and get out before I turn into one of these shallow as my list of "jobs I have done" list is long, people that call call them selves models.

I feel sorry for everyone here that has forgotten that life before this was better. And pity all those that think it is the path they want to pursue.

I shall finish my time here ONLY if life picks up, and if it doesn't? I hope (partially) it doesn't get to that.


In the end, I don't care what people think of me, I prefer it when they like me, but in the end there are very few people that I actually care about making like me. As you can see I would be a terrible business man as I dove head first from the highest diving board, into the business worst suited for my personality, making the worst choice possible.


I was going to try and hold off all further judgement until the end, but that would just be stupid. I am going to point out all possible flaws available in the time I have left.
Hopefully I either get shipped to another place (Tokyo, or New York) or it picks up here once eveyone leaves (not work wise, just less stress and more fun with people)


Once again, I don't think this is an OK way of life, and would my prefer getting my ass kicked in rock climbing by some half monkey... half monkey friend (some might get this, I just hope he he knows who he is), or being dropped every 30 seconds by some 4 foot 2, tattoo sporting chick in her thirties on the trails (I let her win...). Or even getting up at 7:30 off a friends couch on a Saturday morning to go get my ass kicked at work all day.

AWESOME

More castings while other people have shows and jobs. Yup I'm gonna make the big bucks here, think 4 digits... with a big fat minus sign in front.

Really makes me reconsider the whole Modelling thing.

Yea, so today the receptionist started mouthing off to us when we wanted our castings. She told us to stop being childish, and wait for our castings, mean while it is 22:00 and some guys have to go to bed if they have early jobs. This shit goes on for an hour and she keeps telling us to stop and wait for her to finish writing the numbers of the rooms on everyones castings... Thank God she is thinking, otherwise I'm sure we would never make it back to the rooms we have been living in for last couple weeks...



Now I get back to my door to have a bunch of drunk people cruising around my room making a big ass mess... I'm all for having people over, but when I haven't seen them before and they were invited by someone else that I don't know, it kinda bugs me. Then when they fucking eat my food and drink my beer... Thats not fucking cool... Aw well the next I'm going to eat/drink for free.

Now I got to go clean up the big ass mess left by people who I didn't invite over.

God models are stupid, had this been anywhere else they would have gotten there ass severely kicked.


[/End of a bad day]

Ahhhh only 4 castings today. Only did 2 as one had a 3 hour wait.


Then the Elite party. Pretty fun but it was more of a business meeting then a party.


Models are fucking stupid. The party was more of a place to network and less of a "lets get really drunk" party. Maxime saw it as a networking meeting so he worked it, now a bunch of people are pissed off about that (because he got contacts while they got wasted).

While walking toward the food (as always) some guy grabbed my hand and yelled my name. Apparently he knew me from my agent in Toronto, and though my "photos didn't do me justice"... Yup... Officially lost for words... So talked to him (didn't manage to catch a name) and the person who he was with (I think they run the agency. It was loud, I was caught off guard, jesus cut me some slack).

Anyways, I looked good. White dress shirt with pink pinstripes, dark jeans, and the bootshoecombothings. Its not vain if a model does it, the internet told me so.


yea, so thats it... pretty much... OH, except... ah never mind, I already said that. um... yea thats it, I'm off to bed.

So no new posts due to the same shit, different day syndrome.


Lots of castings, lots of designers yelling "NEXT" over my shoulders. My theory behind it is that they got there ass's kicked by people like us back in high school, and this is there revenge. Difference is we've grown up. While were reading Steven King novels, they got there vogue. While were chowin' down on pizza, they got there ultra low fat anti carb greek salad with pisswater for dressing... yup your kickin our ass's now buddy, good job. Hope the power trip tastes as good as this 22oz steak and fries... mmm... gravy...

Sorry man we win again.


Just walked through sketch town, and got followed by the Italian guys who sell shit in the metro stations... Those guys are like fucking wolves, ballsy as fuck in a pack, but scared as shit when they are solo. So I got followed for like half a block, eventually turned around (I'm smart, I made sure there wasn't anyone in front of me before I turned around), and just kinda looked at them... all of a sudden the floor/wall/passing car became very interesting for them. Only God knows why, I'm six foot th...two and skinny, but I can run...




Castings, like yesterday, were stupid. I have gotten the art of timing down pretty good now, I know the city better, I know bus/tram routes off by heart (well the ones I use) and most importantly, I know that if you see other models walking in the same direction... hurry the fuck up. Now I am taking short cuts, slipping in lines, and using stairs when I see models cramming into the elevators.

Rules of engagement.
1) Surface transit trumps metro, except for cross town trips (so learn your maps)
2) Solo travel beats groups every time, they may be fun, but skip them all together. Fuck being social, you can do that when your home, on the job fuckin get'er'done. Social = 1-4 extra hours of waiting, no joke.
3) Don't take it personally. There pricks. It sucks, but its true. Even the nice ones lie.
4) "Nice to see you" or "see you soon" means "GTFO" or "finally your leaving"
5) Eating is Impossible unless you have 1 hour between the time you currently have, and the time you have to be at the next casting.
6) Early for your first casting is like being first to the ski slopes. Your never gonna be the first there, there will always be a line, be smart, hit the first casting later in the day, and hit up your second casting first. People will line up early for the first casting, but from 12 onward most are behind schedule, so if your 20 min early for a 13:00-18:00 casting your gonna be closer to the first in line.
7) "BE THERE AT 14:00 OR ELSE" means "yea we think it should start at 14:30 if your lucky" unless they are from Tokyo or New York, in which case be early.
8) Make a decent guess, I am not going to book a swimsuit job, so why bother... yea the bookers will bitch and moan, they will say stuff like "there is a chance", yea, and my waist is 29". they give you 16 castings in a day, mark them out on your map, make an order, then cut the ones you don't think you will make. E.G Nico (friend with short hair) got given a head and shoulders casting, with a requirement for long hair, why waste your time with that?
8) Sleep is for the dead.
9) Beer is a good, but most often bad. Not eating all day, running around, then coming home and downing a nice big bottle (66cl) of your favourite brewski is the best way to get drunk and sick.
10) Italian people don't make room anywhere, so when in Rome... push, shove, and lean on, as much as you like when in transit (some douche bag was leaning on me on the bus... so I started singing "stand by me" and then leaned back (I had 6x 2L bottle of water, and a thing of coke in my bag, I out weighed him quite substantially) then he got the point)
11) Straight answers are non-existent.
12) SET CARDS ARE FUCKING EXPENSIVE!!!!! 270 euros for 150 (thats a high guess) set cards... Rip off.
13) Like casinos, the agency always wins, you can't win, drawing is lucky, and loosing is 90% likely.




Writing a blog every day with new funny and exciting stories. So from now on when I have nothing to write about, I might start making up short stories.


Tight jeans + hot weather = wanting to just wear boxers (drinking in public is allowed so why wouldn't that be?)


Only 2 castings tomorrow, and a PARTY!!!!! at the agency. The casting sheet says "you must show up, and you MUST look SMART". I don't look smart, I am smrt. Time to rock the pink shirt and dress pants though

Day 2 of fashion week



Much better, not only did I manage to hit up most of them, I also ate some kick pizza, and mastered the art of crossing the street.

One casting I left because they put me and a couple guys in one room (we showed up REALLY early) and then after 45 min they were like "your meant to be upstairs..." so when we got up there there were 100 people... I left, not waiting any more for that. From then on it kicked ASS.
Got everywhere early, hit up everything fine, got 7 out of the way by 13:00. I even fell asleep on the bus and missed a casting, missing it was the best thing ever, it then lined me up to hit all the rest in order. Worked out pretty good. Going alone is so much faster then in a group, never have to wait, never discuss directions, always make your own choices.
Then... I ran into a fellow Canadian, and he followed me. I walk fast, almost a run actually. Means I get places before other people. When I was walking with him I slowed right down, and made my first mistake, Listening to someone else's sense of direction.

It fucked me up. I got screwed up. My plan went to shit. I had to ditch him..,

When I did i got everything back on track, hit up another 2 castings (making a total of 10) and then another one (11). I get to the centre of the city where I had saved all the big name castings because they were within about 2km of each other. Started hitting them up anti clockwise because the times they were ending seemed to work best that way. First one I get to is ok, but 200 people waiting (2.5 hours to wait at least). So I make a choice and skip it because I figure if I can hit 2 in that time, I have a better chance of $$$. The second one I get to ended at 17:00, but my sheet said 17:30 so that sucked. Even trying to charm the woman at reception didn't get me in (she looked at me like I was speaking a different language or something. Weird huh?)

Then I hit up the Burberry casting. I get there 30 min early, instead of with 30 min to go (like I was expecting) so I end up in being 5th on the list. Nice. When the first 5 of us get called upstairs I ended up in standing around and talking with these 2 wardrobe guys for 10 min, then it was my turn. I head in, they like me, they tell me to try on some clothes, I get the pants on and do... nope they don't fit. I get the shirt on, and one of the wardrobe guys forces the clip shut on the pants and hands me a pair of shoes to wear. So I bend down to pull on the (really nice shoes) and POP, off comes the clip and the button on the pants. Stuart 2, Expensive pants 0. So I stand up after putting on the (AMAZING) shoes, and walk to the wardrobe guys and say "Yea, my fat ass broke your pants..." they laugh and tell me "Don't worry, theres a jacket, nobody will notice". Sweet. So I head back in, they get me to walk (in the sweet shoes) and then some more pictures, and on my way out someone says something along the lines of "The pants look nice" and then I hear a murmur about a button... The wardrobe guys ratted me out, and the designers didn't care... sweet.

I think I did 11 or 12 out of 15 or 16. Now for 7 tomorrow, they should be done by 1. Hopefully I will break more pants before I come home (and not get charged for them).

The start of fashion week.

Wow.

I managed to hit up 5 of my 12 castings today. It was ridiculous. The lines were close to 100 people, the rooms were 20ft by 20ft. The castings were never close to each other, and the designers treat you like shit.

First casting is for Gucci, the line is 2 hours long (I miss one casting due to this). Eventually the designer talks to me for 30 seconds then he says "Bye".

Second casting has 20 people and should have started at 11:30 but is didn't start then for what ever reason. Instead it started when I arrived at around 12:30 (a half hour before it ended), and it ran on for an extra hour (so I got out at 13:45), missing an editorial. The good part was I got a call back for it, bad part it was between 15:30 and 18:30.

Casting number three was for Prada, my sheet said 14:00 - 14:00 (meaning I had to be there at 2), I haul ass over to get there at 14:00, I arrive with 5 min to spare and security turns me down and makes me wait outside. Eventually I get in and wait in a hall with 150-200 other people. When I get to the front of the line the casting director knows my name and apparently remembers my book. All he makes me do is walk once and he take a couple pictures. Off to my next casting (at this time it is 15:30).

Casting number four was for something else (I don't care/remember what), but I was 10 min late and the door had closed.

Now to haul ass back across town to then stand in line in a 5 star hotel waiting for the 50 people in front of me to get done. Only to realize when I get to the panel of judges that they are looking for a fucking meat head, aka the guys with muscles. So that killed 2 casting in its self, because getting to and from it took ages, and the line took ages... Way to give me the right castings guys...

Then I haul ass back to the the call back thinking I would be able to hit it up and then hit up Burbery (which was like 2 blocks away) before it closed, that meant I had 1 hour to hit up two places. As always the fucking (man they piss me off) designers/directors/douchebags make me wait for another age (I get there at 18:00 and I leave at 21:30), for them then to make me walk, then take 3 pictures, then say "bye". So I missed a big name, because someone didn't want to start when they said they would.

I also had another couple castings sent to me (with ending times of like 13:00, and they arrive at 13:30... smooth move) and some other things that I didn't have enough time to even think about hitting them up.



Things I figured out today.
1) Always bring a pen.
2) Always bring a tazer.
3) Never trust a start time.
4) Never trust a end time.
5) Casting directors suck.
6) Eating is impossible, don't even try.
7) The nice guy finishes last/doesn't do all his castings.
8) Anything anyone says to you about making money is a lie, none of this "your gonna be big" bullshit. Not gonna happen, no way, no how. Not gonna fucking happen so don't get your hopes up. Bad mistake on my part.
9) People who get jobs, land everything. People who don't get jobs, land nothing. So far I am the second. Tomorrow my roommate is getting flow somewhere else again, but I just have more castings.
10) Maxime now runs Prada, he walked out today wearing a Prada cashmere sweater, and as we walked down the street it rained... Yup that thing can't be sold now.
11) Milan is the worst city on the planet. Slough is nothing to this place.
"Come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough
It isn't fit for humans now
There isn't grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, death!"
Obviously John Betjeman has never been here.
12) Brazilian guys need item #2 used on them.
13) Brazilian chicks are nice.
14) Russians in general need to be left alone or introduced to item #2.



Thats it before I start naming people and insulting mothers.

Sunday...


Woke up at 15:00 when I hear "ITS THE GERMAN MOTHERFUCKER" from the living room... Yup Adam had gone out and left the front door open and Denis had come wondering through my house. Think that neighbour who thinks "Make yourself at home" means "Please, come in, rearrange my house, eat my food, shit in my toilet."... Like seriously, your a nice guy, but when you come into my room while I am a sleep, yelling at the top of your lungs, then use my toilet (YOUR FUCKING ROOM IS 2 DOORS DOWN), then take MY spices to go make your own lunch... WTF? GTFO!...

I don't mind a lot of these people, actually a lot of them are awesome to hang out with. Just like ice cream, you can have enough of certain people. Its weird how the affect of being around someone too long is actually very similar to having brain freeze. You hear there voice and cringe, and your head kind of gets cocked to the side and you just want it to be gone as soon as possible.

So I realized from hanging out with Denis all day, and then living in the same room as him makes me want to learn the art of making people explode at will. New rule, "don't hang out everyday with your roommates for fear of violently killing them one day"

Apart from that all went well, I hung out a bit. Surfed the web, went to the agency. The agency was pretty fucking awesome. I will let what happened today pass as them being too stressed out to think properly. I went in today to make there job easier. I went in to help them out. All i wanted was my castings for Monday, as it is fashion week and it will get really busy for them to send all the text messages out in the morning. But... They were thinking a head, there response was "NO we are too busy, we will fax them out", BUT I was told this while they were looking at me schedule, and all they had to do was press print. So I think nothing of it, I casually walk home with a couple new guys. Later on I hear they aren't going to fax them out, instead they want EVERY model to show up and then they will print off the stuff then... I'll wait till tomorrow to make my judgement, but that seemed like a short sighted call, especially when all 300 of us show up and ask for our time tables at the same time, the last guy will be really late for all his castings.

Anyways, I'll deal with that shit when it happens. I'll just bring my Ipod and listen to music. It will work fine.

Now this place is full of models. Should be an awesome week.

Now to bed. Busy week ahead of me. Should be full of shits and giggles.






WTF= What The Fuck
GTFO = Get The Fuck Out

So nothing happened on Friday. Just walked around Milano (which as a city is worse then Hamilton... oh I went there). Apparently there were a couple castings, but the text messages never made it to me, not a problem, as I woke up at 14:00 (my phone sits on loud, 50cm from my head, so I do wake up when I get stuff). Yup 'twas less then exciting.

Today (well now I guess it is actually yesterday) I had an amazing casting for some fitting. I think the designer was colour blind/ a couple fries short of a happy meal. I arrived at 9:45 with Adam (roommate) and 4 other guys, and he instantly cuts 3 people. Unluckily I am not one of them. I must describe the designers before I go any further. The first one speaks perfect English and looks very respectable in his expensive suit and nice black leather shoes, mean while the other one made me laugh very very hard (obviously not in front of him). He must have topped out at 5'6, was wearing huge sunglass's (think dinner plates) and the most vibrant colour jacket and pants and shoes I have ever seen, up and till that point in time. So back to the story, the guy then says only 2 people would get the job. There are 3 of us standing there and one was going to be cut very shortly, I took a look around, and didn't feel I would miss much if I was the one. The clothes looked like he had used the curtains from some old persons house, as the fabric (not my grandmother she may be blind, but she still has style). For example, they handed me a pair of pants and some leather shoes, not to bad right? Wrong. The pants looked like they were checkered, but actually it was a base colour of lime green, and then it had lots of very small hunter green flowers on them, and to top that off about 30cm up from the base of each leg was a bright orange triangle (like a piece of fabric you would insert to make them flared). How bad could leather shoes be? Think shoes made of the orange peel from potpourri. Yea, at that point I felt pretty silly, standing in front of 2 designers and 5 other people... Then they hand me this eggplant purple vest thing with the same pattern as the pants, but with black shit on it. The neck on the vest ended around the bottom of my, muscleless, ribcage, and the arm holes, came down about the same distance... Overall it was not what I would call fashion, but what do I know? It's not like I can see colours, or understand what the consequences of wearing that in downtown Toronto would be (think asskicking so hard your grandfather would feel it). Anyways they then get us to walk down this makeshift runway a couple times, always fun, then they give me a jacket to put on (which funnily enough was the only thing in the building I could see myself wearing) light grey with some blue on it. Then they make me walk a couple more times. Now the fun part, as we are all standing there dressed as formal clowns, the short designer walks around and looks everyone over from head to toe and looks really, really closely at our faces, like up on his tippy toes to put his noes 2" from our faces and then walks back, says something in Italian to the other designer, who then says "I am about to pick two of you to stay, the one I don't pick can leave now" and he points at the other 2 guys... Wow, what a prick. So I change back into my NORMALLY coloured clothes, and head out. As I am leaving he says "Oh, and please leave a set card with us"... As I found when I got home, set cards make good frisbees, so I should have whipped it at him Gambit style (Comic book reference).

I am really happy I just found out that they made like 100 Euros for the job, the guy couldn't speak a word of English 5 days ago, and he just managed to tell me it was a shitty job, ended at 12, for some lame showroom... My respect for him went up quite substantially, now hes not like ever other (fucking) Brazilian.

So today Eamon (fellow Canadian) and I went and met up with one of his other Canadian friend Kaitlyn to go see Duomo (some big ass church thing with like 6.023 x 10^23 too many statues on it), then to a "museum full of dinosaurs". By full they mean there were maybe 10, and dinosaurs they mean most were paper mache... Kinda depressing really... I wanted something cool, not what I could see in a 4 year olds pop up book. I was expecting more like the ROM.

I do have some cool pictures from Duomo, but I will load them up tomorrow when i can find my card reader.

At about 17:25 I get a call from Elite telling me to get to the agency ASAP. I show up and they hand me like 200 new set cards (these ones are twice as big as the old ones)... Thanks guys how much more do I owe you now?

After they hand me the deck of cards, Wal (pronounced Val I think) tells me he needs to see my walk... So he gets me walking. After about 5 min of me walking I get bored, turn to him, and ask him what I am doing wrong, and he says "Nothing"... So yea... I guess they think if I walk enough back and forth, I might loose so weight and not break pants during castings? Ah well I figured out something good from that experience... There is a face shaped stain on the wall at one end of the hallway. Seems like there are two ways to make the bookers like you, kiss ass (like sooo many tell me I should... fat fucking chance) or be honest. Seems like they seem to respect me more then other people, if I am just honest with them. They have never gotten mad at me for anything (other models have been told off), and they seem more friendly... and they treat me like they treat people who are making money. There is a huge difference between the people who make money and those who don't. The ones who make money are talked to like friends and are joked around with, where as the other ones that don't make money (from what I can tell) are treated more like you would treat an underlings. Only difference in the way they treat Maxime and me (Maxime having a Prada exclusive) is they bend over backwards to make him happy(/ make more money from him), and me they just act like they would to someone on the same level of the food chain as them.

So apparently I'm kinda fat. I went to a call back today and the guy asked me to try on some pants (when they say try them on, they mean right there, so I had a line of like 40 people behind me). So I start to put them on, and I tell him there not going to fit but he wanted me to try anyways. So I pull them up to my thigh, and at that point I knew it would end badly, but I kept going because I wanted to see what would happen. I eventually get them on, and he looks at them and says "its weird because they are a 34" Yea, right, and I'm 6'2. So I'm standing there trying not to move because they are way to tight, and the casting director tells me that these pants had to be couriered in from Paris because the ones here in Milan are the wrong style. So they must be worth something right? So I decide to try the shirt on too, and as I take the couple steps to the shirt, I split the pants at the calve about 3cm, and then at the thigh about 5cm... and the button thingy... Ah well he told me to, so what can I do?


I have this weird feeling I didn't get the job, I'm not sure why, its just this feeling I have.





Now off to 3 more castings in the next hour and a half.

Just one casting today. So today on our (the fellow Canadian guy and me) way out to the casting, we left the building, and started walking to the metro, and at the ice cream store 2 doors down, the 16 year old and her friend walk out. That was kind of odd considering they knew we live here, and they live across the city. So we talk to them for a bit, and eventually decided to go to the casting (the offered to buy us ice cream, but I decided to turn it down as I had woke up 10 min before).
20 min later and after having gotten lost once or twice, we are finally sitting on the right bus, and once again, the 16 year old and her friend get on the bus...

Eventually we get to the casting (the 2 "stalkers", as they will be called from now on, had gotten off the stop before), and the woman in the building asks us to show her our walk. Then she quite rudely tells us "that's enough, goodbye". I'm starting to really like the attitude of the people here, seems like the bitchier you are, the more money you make... Kinda funny actually...

We went shopping on the way home, then sat around and I surfed the web.

Now, I just got back from walking around downtown Milano. I'm starting to like Milano more and more. Walking around downtown at night is kinda fun, there always seems to be doing something in Duomo (part of downtown) today there was a concert. It... was... shit. These bands played music that was half in English, half in Italian, and half shit. It was terrible, but still it was better then nothing. After a while of listening to tone deaf Italians play AC-DC, we went for a walk around town. Got to see some cool parts of town, too bad they always board up all the shop windows at night, so everywhere looks like an alley, or loading bay.

On the way home we are like 4 blocks from home, when who do we see again? The "stalkers". Its kind of funny that we never saw them before, and now we have seen them like 5 times in the last 2 days.


Now I'm sitting on the window of the new place, its nice and cool out side and no bugs. Nice.

Had a couple castings today. Not too bad, just had to stand in line for like 1 and a half hours in the sun to have the line fall to hell and it turn into a pile. It was all good until I get to the front, and realize that they were looking for a guy with muscle (which I lack), big waste of time. I'm wondering if I should start looking at all the business's that am going in for castings for, because it seems a couple times now I have been given castings to places that I won't get the job for... I would hate to do the bookers job for them, because they always seem so busy, but it might save me 30% of what I earn if I did it my self.

Really, why do they get money if they do a halfassed job of setting me up with stuff? Here is my guess as to how a casting director gets his/her models. The casting director sends out a description of what they are looking for to the agency's, the bookers then send the people that fit the description to the castings... seems simple enough, then why do I end up going to castings that require a 98cm chest (I'm a 86cm, or so my card says)? I'm told "you never know", I might be wrong, but my best guess would say I won't get the job. It doesn't take an IQ of 132 to figure that out... or maybe it does, and thats why they haven't figured it out yet?

Anyways, later on in the day we went to another casting. Me and this other guy from Canada are standing in line talking to these 2 girls in front (finally someone else who speaks fluent English... and also feels that they are starting to talk at a grade 2 level because of the constant broken English), anyways, my friend is hitting on one of them, hes 24, all is going well for him. Eventually the conversation steers to where we have lived in the past, yes we were waiting in line for 2 hours, when she mentions that she has lived in Boston (or Bwoston as she said) for 14 years, and then Chicago for 1.5 years.


I'll give you a second to figure that out. When you do please keep reading.


So eventually I get up to the casting director who "Loves me" and said my dimensions were perfect, and that I would get a call back either Wednesday, or Thursday. Well Nico who also went to the casting, and DOESN'T fit the dimensions (they need a 86cm chest, he has a 98cm) gets a call back for the guy, tomorrow. Thanks bud.


This business just doesn't make sense. They say one thing and mean another, yet expect you to follow everything they say and hang on every word as if Brian him self said it (referring to Monty Python). Hell my set card has bad measurements on it, and they will not change it. Hell I KNOW I'm not a 29" waist, I can force a 30" pair of pants on, but they aren't baggy. But I'll go along with it, it seems to be a business that is making a fair bit of money, so no reason to change it... yet...




I should go to bed. Even though I don't have any castings till Wednesday, I might as well get some sleep... Naw sleep is for the dead, time to surf... the interweb.


PS: If you didn't get the issue with the girl and the guy, she was like 15 and he was like 24. Just making sure we are all on the same page :P *

Moved house today, from Lepontina (craptacular) to this new place. The new place has 4 stars on the front, so I would assume it means its 4 star... But who knows.

I moved today at rush hour... It was kinda funny, carrying 2 bags of stuff and 2 of food on the Metro in the morning, the commuters didn't enjoy it too much. Nico, Adam, and I taking up all the space on the subway.

Right now I'm sitting on my porch, on a chair on the web (that works at this house), watching Holland vs Italy (soccer) on TV (Holland is winning, 2:0). This place is pretty cool. Here are some pictures from earlier.



Thats the building I was originally in, until I moved to be with Nico and Adam (3 to a room, and my old roommates didn't speak English).



Thats Nico standing next too our room (the 3 windows off to the right of him), the open one is where I'm sitting on a chair with my feet on the windowsill, only place I get internet, but its comfy so I'm happy (and I get to see everyone who comes/goes as I can see out the front door).


This is a better shot of the front of out room, first floor, the 2 windows on the right are my bedroom windows, and the open one is into the living room/kitchen.

Nico pretending to be surprised to see the camera, after having posed for the other photos, and having thrown stuff at me while I took them.

Nico's bed/the couch, the table, and Nico cooking some turkey in our half sized kitchen (the light/fan thing blocks my view of anything that is cooking). This room is bigger then the last apartment.
Finally my bed (closest one) and Adam sleeping on his bed.

So Nico cooks, and then cleans (even if I start cleaning, he takes over) and he just threw out my empty chocolate milk container (I would have done it when I got up, I'm just too comfy here), its kinda awesome really.

Two castings tomorrow, one at 9:00 and one at 7:00, there for big names (so I hear) so fingers crossed I get one of them. That would mean a new bike (I'm looking at buying a Misfits Psycles the more money the better the model).

Did absolutely nothing interesting today.


Woke up at around 14:30ish because Denis (roommate) moved to Paris for a week last night at 4 in the morning... Before he left he had to pack, so he kept me up while he packed, and talked to his girlfriend on the phone. I woke up to find he had left all of his garbage, and all of his dirty dishes, and all of his food everywhere.

I'm moving tomorrow so I cleaned up my stuff, but the hotel didn't give me any dish soap (they bring this bottle big enough for one day, and the last day they were here was Friday) or enough bags for garbage (apparently Italian people never throw stuff away, or clean anything). So I feel very sorry for room service tomorrow (I will be gone by 8:00), aw well they did a shit job for the whole time I have been here (rules say clean sheets once a week, and clean towels daily, didn't happen like that) and its been expensive...

Now I have to pack all of the food, all my clothes, all my bottled water, everything to the new place tomorrow, before castings... Should be fun.

Only reason I have bottled water is because the tap water doesn't seem so good, it tastes odd, and Breen said he got sick when he drank it last time he was here.

The new place should be lots better, free internet, place to do laundry, and in the city (not here on the edge of the edge). Best of all, no neighbours that start having sex at 1 in the morning (there an old Indian couple...)... every night... like right now... Maybe a noise complaint might be a good idea, they got us in trouble when we watched a movie...





[Edit] I was bored today... anyway 4,438,800 seconds (give or take 200)

fuck this




I just got a text message for a call back for a casting I had on Thursday. This casting was for yesterday night at 18:00 for, what looks like cellphone ad, but I got the text message today at 19:40. How does that work? I have had my phone on my all day, and checked it lots of time (just to check the time) and didn't have the message's then (it was a 2 part text). I checked for the time at around 7:40, and it said I had 2 messages. Thats shitty in its self, but yesterday was the day Prada turned me down (x2) and so I talked to a booker several times that day (a couple times before, and then some after the Call back). GAH.

This is really pissing me off because I missed out on a job opportunity due to craptacular technology. Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuckfuck.




Anyways today we went to a market in the morning. Its really cheap to buy stuff there, I think in total we spend just under 15 euros, and came how me with 2kg of turkey, 1kg of salmon steaks, and then several kg of vegetables, and 9 mini pizza's... But damn are Italian people short, We could see clear over the top of 90% of the other market goers. Just kinda lift up my bag and like wade through them as if they were tall grass or water.

After we went cruising through part of the outer city, pretty cool. Lots of old building, and then we went to a horse racing track, and ended up in walking around near where there was some concert for some guy (who is apparently huge) but none of us knew who he/them/in was. Then came back and the fun with the text happened... Now to explore more of the city.

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

No exclusive at Prada.

A couple of people at Prada really like me, but when I went in there today for the casting for the exclusive they made me try on some pants. I though they fit, but apparently my legs are too big... like too much muscle in the thigh area.

Then when I call the agency they were like "Don't worry, the casting director..." (who I have yet to meet) "... and the stylist really like me so I might get to do there show"

In other words "we like you, no we don't, we like you, no we don't...."

So it looks like this will be more of an adventure and less of a money making experience. The worst part is nobody I hang out with wants to go for a nice meal tonight... wtf? "oh I don't want to get fat" fuck you, when will one nice meal make you fat? well maybe a little fat, but thats not the point, it will taste better then pasta and sauce from a jar.


Went to get a month pass today, the guy handed me lots of paperwork, all I filled in was my name and age, and handed it back. He looked at me, pointed at the rest, I shook my head and shrugged, then he laughed and filled in the rest with random stuff and gave me the monthly pass. So my debit card doesn't work here only at cash machines.


Another slow weekend in Milano... I think I might sneak out to the alps one weekend and go DH mountain biking...

This is what happened, as I was too lazy at the end of the day to
write anything.


Yesterday I had 3 castings, not bad. One at 10:00 and we showed up at 9:30 too miss the line up, or so we though. Instead we showed up and there were about 13 people ahead of us, not too bad, but then the people holding the casting didn't start till like 10:20, so we ended up in waiting for ages anyway.
Niko went in before me (Argentinian guy from downstairs, another outdoors guy awesome!) and they ended up in arguing over him because the designer liked him but thought he was too skinny, and the photographer though he was perfect. Again, another hysterical Italian argument, this one was better because Niko was standing there in the middle awkwardly. When I in they flipped through my book and that was it... Aaaawwww well, what ever.

Second casting was at 3:30... during the several hour break we went back to the "apartment" and Niko made some Argentinian food, pretty awesome... When we eventually went to the casting which was at a 4 star hotel. The 2 guys who looked at the books were like polar opposites, one was this larger designer (bleached short hair, goatee and then a very low V neck shirt... and a grumpy look on his face) and the other was this clean cut guy in a black suit. The first guy (bleachy) took my book and kinda flicked through the pictures quickly, took my set card, then slid it to the other guy, who then was really nice, and he looked through everything for a while then introduced himself, and asked where I came from and stuff like that. Anyway we ended up in leaving quite sure we wouldn't get the job, because another model who was there knew them both personally.

The third casting today was at 6:30. So we went down (early again), when we got there we met another guy from Elite who ran up first. When we got up there they were flicking through his book and chatting, this happened for about 5 min, he book was completely full with pictures from jobs. Then it was my turn, with my 5 photos it didn't take long. When she got to the end she looked up and said "Thats it?" so sheepishly I said "Yup. First time." at which point they like grabbed my book and went back through it another couple times (maybe a minute or 2).

On the walk home we went through downtown Milan... shit need to go to castings, more when i get back (might be late, if i get the prada thing)

1fucking blog has delayed this post for some reason... ah well i'll let it do its thing, and I'll stop posting dates and times.


Only the two casting today. Real pain in the ass, I wake up, head over there for 10:00am, finally get there, wait in line for 40min, to the be told there looking for someone who is 25-30 years old. Kinda lame. Aw well, always to give it a go, you never know.

The second casting was at the agency... It was for some sunglass's, I dunno, they did the whole "Amazing, I'll see you soon"... Yea... Right... Why do they say it? It makes no sense just seems as if they want to get everyones hopes up.

Then I got to see the funniest thing ever, Italian people fighting. A couple of the bookers were having an argument with, what I can only assume to be, an accountant. Anyway the funny part is, it sounded like a normal conversation (speaking loud and fast), the only way I knew it was an argument, was because of the hand gestures. Italian people always wave there hands when they talk, no matter what, even if there eating, they will violently pull the food away from the mouth just to make a point, then just as violently slam it back, even driving they will wave both hands in the air and swing them around... Even if they are cornering... there must be lots of deaths due to gesticulating wildly. But when they argue, it gets about 7.3 times worse (why can't I put 7.3? saying 10 times is just as much of a guess). Arms get swung, shi... stuff on the desk gets slammed down, hands get punched, heads get smacked (yup I watched one of them hit there own head). It was very funny, so funny I couldn't look at anyone else because all the other models were trying just as hard not to laugh). All in all a very funny trip to the agency.

I was going to walk home (through downtown, about 10km) but I didn't because it started raining. So I came home and made a dinner which was made of a salad and some chicken, pretty good and cheap too.

Random Thought's:

So Maxime just landed the Prada exclusive (meaning he can only work for Prada, and will do all of there shows. Thats like 16k), and the Argentinian guy from downstairs just left to go for a meeting with Dolce $ Gabanna (I don't know how to spell it, gimmie a break...). Seems like the day before these guys make it big, they are in my room watching me cook...So it looks like if you are in the room while I am cooking food, you will land an awesome job. So does this mean I'll make the big bucks? or go home with a debt? blah.

I found out later that everyone else is going home at the end of June... So I'm confused as to why I'm here for an extra month, if I don't have a job... I might sneak away and travel around Italy... Just as long as none of agents find out...

Denis just got in trouble for being disrespectful to the bookers about the lack of castings. I hope me asking them for more bookings every time I talk to them isn't taken the wrong way. He said before he went over there (they called him in) that if they got mad at him he would be like "fuck you, you aren't getting me any castings, I want a new agency.". He ended up in saying sorry over and over again. I really like the dynamic between the bookers and the models, they get us jobs then WE make them the money, so aren't we the boss's? But in the end it doesn't really matter, as long as you don't give them a reason to get pissed off, there shouldn't be any problems.

So the Metro here is like low budget TTC... The funny part is it works, and is always on time. TTC sucks.

23:59 or there about.


All the major assumptions about models are correct.

Self centred, yup. Saying stuff like "you have to get use to it buddy, we're models, we can do what we like" or just the whole its 2 in the morning, and there still listening to loud music and killing mosquitoes with slaps against the, oh so thin, walls, or by throwing a book at the ceiling. Hell I hear then the guy next to me hits his head at night, a smack on the wall defiantly is heard loud and clear.

Stupid, yup. If the bugs come out at night... and sleeping with mosquitoes in the room sucks... why would you open the window to have a smoke before bed? First off the smoking gets old quickly, all my shit smells like it now. Secondly opening the window then there are lots of bugs out for any reason, isn't the best idea.

Into parties and drugs, yup. As of yet I haven't seen any hard drugs, just lots of hash and marijuana (I love how that word sounds), and lots and lots of alcohol. Drinking can be fun, but every day till 3 in the morning gets kinda tedious. Drinking is fun, but when I end up in having to walk people home, or having to convince someone that getting in a fight might not be the best thing they can do for their career, just gets really boring.



I'm different, see because I'm spilling the beans, I'm not the same...really...







...right?

19:23

Now to start off with last night.

There was a festival downtown, so somehow it was decided we would go check it out at 12:30 in the morning. I should have known it was going to be a bad when we got outside the "apartment" and my drunk friends, who were being way too noisy, got yelled at by someone to be quiet, and the responded by telling him to, and I quote, "GOFUCKYOURSELF"... Yup bad start to the night.

We eventually get to a Tram to go downtown, and then to Duomo, where this supposed party was.

Naturally we arrive a couple hours late, and the only people that are left are the drunks, stoners, guys selling shit, and then the guys who run the bars...

It was going well until everyone I was with started fighting (I had sobered up by this point, it was about 2 hours since we were at the "apartment"). Two of them were fighting with each other, one had wandered off, another was staring into space, and the last one was smashing bottles and telling everyone to "gofuckyourself". It got very boring very quickly.

Eventually I went wondering up ahead of everyone else, and I turn around to see one of them being chased by an old Italian guy who (even though I don't speak Italian) was saying "pick up the bottle" then something that I can only assume to mean "you fucking drunk American". Pretty stupid to be honest, it could have been avoided had he only tossed his bottle in the garbage instead of in the street... stupid... Another one of my oh so retarded friends, then decided to call some kid "gangsta", this guy happened to be from LA so knew what he said, and what it meant. This kid came over and said "watch what you say, or you might get hurt" I laughed my ass off at this, because the guy who started this, had been looking for a fight all night, and when one appeared, he nearly shit himself. Twenty minutes later, he then told to equally drunk people something... They responded by grabbing bottles, and smashing the bottoms off and advancing on him... All I know is the fight never happened, I left, not the kinda think want to be apart of.

I would put names, but I don't think they would like people knowing what they do while drunk... Risking money, and a trip across the world... Oh stupidity

Then the walk home was pretty cool, told the drunks that they could either keep up with me walking, or wait 3 hours for the metro to open (at 6am). Only Anton kept up with me, and we had an awesome discussion which started out with me asking him why he though smashing bottles and breaking newspaper stands was OK, and ending with a talk about why he believes it is OK to be inconsiderate and destructive to your surroundings... It got pretty intense... Way more fun the babysitting drunk people.

So I got to bed as the sun was coming up, and then had to trek across the city for a casting call back. I get there and he looks at my book for 5 seconds, then says "Bye"... gah so much effort, and the way he said "bye" it looks like it won't happen. Lame.

Now I'm gonna watch yet another movie (Jumper this time)