Myst-erious 24/03/2010

Hey everyone,

Hope you are all doing well. As always, I’ve maintained my inability to stand still for any appreciable period of time.

I went back to New Zealand a couple of months ago to sell my beloved BMW (Australian customs would have charged me $20000 to import it to Sydney). I got a 4 day contract at Wellington Hospital, so they paid for the flight. There were 2 interested buyers, one of which offered $1000 more than I was asking for, and didn’t need to see the car. It was a Chinese lady who wanted to import it to China for her sons birthday. She asked me if I had a PayPal account, so she could arrange an immediate transfer of the money. I got an email from PayPal later that day, saying that a deposit had been made, but I checked my account, and no money was there.

An email came from them saying that the money was being held in an intermediary account, and as a security measure for both buyer and seller, I needed to deposit $3000 into their Western Union account before the funds could be released.

I emailed them back saying “if you’re PayPal, why are you using Western Union for your money transfers? You should have those facilities yourself.” They replied saying that the Chinese division of PayPal was having technical problems, and that I should transfer the money as soon as possible.

I read the account details and noted the account to be in the name of a Nigerian guy. I called Paypals help line, and quoted the reference number. They had never heard of it. I held my head in my hands.

The ‘buyer’ emailed me back asking why I hadn’t paid the money yet. I replied:

“You can’t fool me. I’m Nigerian, too. You give our people a bad name. Stop emailing me, and I promise not to go to the police.”

They did email me back, but not in english, rather in one of the Nigerian dialects. I don’t speak any of them, but I imagine they were saying something in the nature of “Your mum f@#ks goats”, or something like that. While I didn’t go to the police, PayPals fraud division are onto them, and I hope they burn in Hell.

Needless to say, I ended up going with the guy who offered me $2000 less than the asking price, and insisted on a full inspection and documentation, as there was some repair work that needed to be done.

I haven’t actually bought another car since then, as most of what I do is fairly close to where I live, so it just wouldn’t be worth it.

My capoeira team put together a theatre production called Brazilian Myst, illustrating the history of capoeira from Africa, through slavery in Brazil, upto present day. I got to play the lead, made even better by my getting to use my parents African accent. Performing it was great fun: it ran for a week. However, the lead-up was 6 weeks of pain and logistical obstacles. I was on nights during performance week, and still had other stuff to do during the day, so the word ‘tired’ simply couldn’t describe the way I was feeling towards the end, but it was worth it- everyone who saw it said they really liked it, and learned a great deal. Even the Brazilians.

We filmed the DVD a couple of weeks ago. We tried to film it during the day before the final theatre performance. In 3 hours (it’s a one hour play), we filmed one and a half scenes. There are 13 scenes. We arranged to continue another day. I wanted to start at 7am, but most other people wanted to start at 10. 11hours later, with tempers fraying, and people demanding to go home, we got it finished. When the editing’s done, you’re welcome to see it.

On the women front, some of you have already read this story, but I think it does have universal appeal:

"Lara" is a girl I've been seeing. Between our going on a couple of dates, and our actually getting together, we lost contact for a couple of months. In between, I was out in Manly, and approached a girl, and we got on pretty well, and so asked for her number after 25minutes. Her name was "Anna". I suggested a meetup, and she said that I should call her, and we'd talk about it.

I SMSd her the next day. No response. I messaged the following day. No response. Tried again 4 days later. No response. Tried again 4 days after that. No response. After a few weeks, I gave up on her, and Lara and I started communicating again. We were having a text exchange while she was out to lunch with a friend. Halfway through, Annas name appears on my phone. I stared at my phone quizzically and thought "why the f@#k's SHE messaging me?". I opened the message and it read:

[Hi Victor, this is Lara. I'm messaging you from my friends phone because I've run out of credit on mine. It would be great to see you next week]

Just think of the odds. I replied:

[no problem. By the way, say "Hi" to Anna for me]

She replied in hysterics.

Between that time and Lara and I getting together, I messaged Anna:

[Question: why did you ask me to call you?]

Anna: [ I really don't think I need to explain myself. I think it's best that we don't talk]

Me: [ trust me- I'm not going to call you. I'm just questioning the philosophy behind giving your number to someone you don't want to talk to.]

No reply.

The first night I stayed over at Laras, she told me she was moving to Melbourne soon. I saw her at a bar the next week, and she said that she was looking for a housemate to move into her room, and that Anna would be the person most likely to do so.

The second night I stayed over, she confirmed that Anna was definitely moving into the room. I asked her if she was going to be leaving her furniture behind, and she said yes.

With this in mind, I couldn't stand in the light of discovery and not act. I waited a week after Anna moved into Laras old room, and then did something on the behalf of all good men who have been flaked upon by women everywhere (which is basically all good men). At about midnight on a weekday, I messaged Anna:

[That bed's really comfortable, isn't it? ;)]

No reply.

Keep flying the flag.

Victor.

Delayed 14/07/2010

Writing from the international airport in Santiago.

On my way to New York to do my acting scholarship.

It’s been a painfully stressful ordeal to organize, which is part of the reason I haven’t written for so long. In short, I need a student visa to do this, and Western Union sent my visa fee to the wrong place, meaning I missed the June course, and went home to London instead. It came to light that I could get unpaid leave for the July course, but I had to come back to Sydney to get my visa, as the process isn’t transferrable. As such, my trip was cut short, and I didn’t get to catch up with as many people as I would have liked. I’m pursuing legal action against Western Union for lost earnings and the additional airfares incurred, which has been incredibly time consuming, and still to be resolved.

Anyway, I’m in transit having just been to Brazil for my capoeira schools biggest festival of the year. I was in Bahia for a week, and Rio for 4 days, where the festival was. Although it’s winter, I can see why so many people fall in love with Brazil. It’s truly beautiful, and culturally rich and ethnically diverse. I found Salvador particularly interesting because of the strong African influence, a lot of which is nigerian.

The standard of capoeira, as you would expect, was pretty spectacular, although, amongst it all, there were some quite dubious merchants who call themselves capoeira masters (usually in the tourist districts) who actually don’t have much of a clue about it at all.

I’m only a yellow belt, but I genuinely thought I had better technique than the guy I did a one on one lesson with on the beach in Salvador.

In any case, I caught up with my team in Rio, and 9 of us stayed in a one bedroom apartment (true Australian style), somehow without getting busted by the apartment owner. It rained everyday, so it wasn’t the typical party atmosphere that the place is known for, but it was still great to just hang out with people and watch the masters perform and teach us.

With the whole trip being organized at such short notice, I only got the chance to learn some very basic Portuguese beforehand. And even then, I was rather hesitant to. I was hoping that I could just speak Spanish and pretend that I’d had a stroke (hey- it sounds about the same).  In retrospect, however, more Portuguese would have been immensely useful, even if it is the ugliest of the latin-based languages.

The salsa congress was on again this year in Wellington. I only got clearance from work to go to it 2 weeks beforehand, but I really wanted to do another performance. I set myself a pretty high standard last year, and wanted to build on it. I got Adrian and Antonio to help me again. I had a song in mind that I liked, however, I didn’t love it like I loved the song I used the previous year. A lot of people told me that the dance I did was better, but personally, I wasn’t quite as enthused about it. As with every congress, though, it was still a great party, and a chance to catch up with all of my dancing friends.

Some of you from London might remember my African cooking, which I hadn’t done for ages (actually, not since leaving London). There are very few west Africans in Sydney, meaning that sourcing ingredients to make this was very difficult, but over the course of a month, I managed to get everything together, and had a dinner party at my place. Now, whenever I have a dinner party, I will invite quite a large number of people, as I know that at least half won’t be able to make it, or will flake at the last minute. I was aiming for 14, but in the end, 25 people were there, and curiously, there were only seven guys. My male friends and I were looking at each other and thinking “ this is the best party EVER!”. And it was. I pimped off one of the girls to one of my capoeira team-mates, and they seem to have really taken to each other, which is beautiful to see.

On getting back to Sydney from London, I went to the gym straight from the airport. Being a Saturday morning, it was pretty quiet. One of the other members was sitting at one of the stations as I walked past him, and he asked me what my sporting background was. I told him I played rugby for many years. He told me that he had a client who is launching a new brand of mens underwear, and the he thought that I’d be prefect to use a a model. “How long would it take you to get a decent set of abs?” he asked. I lifted up my shirt and said “ How about these?”. “Oh.” He said.

He asked if I could do some poses for him in the changing room, which I agreed to.  I’ve done swimwear/underwear modeling before, and so thought nothing of posing in my underwear, which was fine, until he started asking me to re-shuffle my “anatomy”. I reluctantly complied, but I guess you could argue for there to be some relevance to it. However, when he started helping me to do it, I got really, REALLY uncomfortable. Thankfully, it was only for a matter of fractions of a second, but even that was enough to make a lasting impression.

With my leaving for Brazil and the US in a couple of days, he asked me to meet him in his office the following day. Still feeling a little uncomfortable, I asked to meet in a public place. He flat refused, so I said thanks, but no thanks. Shame- it sounded like a good opportunity: modeling on the product packaging, on a billboard, and on TV. On balance, though, aside from any potential safety risks, any deal may have involved performing services that I simply wouldn’t have been prepared to provide.

I think I’ll stick to acting. At least the porn companies are open about what they expect. I think they’re auditioning for “Tiger’s Got Wood”.

I’ll keep you posted.

Are You Sure? 18/10/2010.

My friend Sarah had a great house party at New Years in North Sydney. My  friend Patrick and I went along and had a great time. I met a really attractive german girl called Ulla (Ursula), and we got on pretty well. After about 45 minutes of talking, we agreed to go out for cocktails the following week, and exchanged numbers.

I messaged her the next day, but didn't hear back. I called the following day and left a voicemail, but still didn't hear back. Waited a few more days, sent another message. No reply. Waited a few more days, called- no response. After a couple of weeks, I dropped it, figuring it was a lost cause.

 

2 months later, I was on my way out to salsa. I got to the bus stop, and she was there. I approached her.

 

Me: are you Ulla?

 

Her: no.

 

I was a little startled.

 

Me: were you not at Sarahs house party at New Years?

 

Her: no.

 

I started scratching my head.

 

I spoke to her in german.

 

She responded in german.

 

Me: you're Ulla aren't you?

 

Her: no.

 

I got out my phone and dialled her number.

 

Her phone rang.

 

She got up and left.

 

I stood there as she walked off and thought to myself whether it was actually possible for a human being to be that rude. I Immediately SMSd her:

 

[ I asked you for your number because you seemed like someone worth getting to know. Clearly you're not. I won't contact you again]

 

I told Sarah what had happened, and asked if I had over-reacted. She said that I was WAY more polite than she would have been. She said that she would have sent something along the lines of [ what the f@#k was all that bulls@#t about?!?!? ]. Which made me feel a lot better.

 

Anyway, I got to my capoeira class a bit late on Thursday last week, as I had a singing lesson. Ulla was there. I actually had to cover my mouth to stop myself from bursting out laughing. "This is gonna be good!" I thought to myself.

 

At the end of the class, I approached her and the other beginner, to introduce myself.

 

Me: Hi guys, I was late to the class because of my singing lesson, so I didn't get to find out your names. My [nick]name is Zumbi.

 

Friend: Hi, I'm Fernanda.

 

Me: pleased to meet you. [to Ulla] And you are...?

 

Ulla: I'm Ulla.

 

Me: are you sure?

 

Ulla: [turns bright red] yes.

 

[walks off]

 

Something tells me that she wont' be coming back. Sorry, Fominha- I think I've lost you a customer. But it was worth it.

 

I've said this several times before: I don't mind a girl not fancying me. I don't fancy everyone- I don't expect everyone to fancy me. However, I do take exception to being pissed around.

One unfortunate life lesson is that, to most girls, agreeing to meet up with someone and then not responding when they try and communicate with you seems to be a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Ulla (and Anna) are only exceptional in that I had the opportunity to psychologically crush them in return for their discourtesy. But then, these experiences make you appreciate the nice girls all the more.

 

Speaking of which, I'm not sure if I've mentioned previously that Rachel moved to Sydney last year. I helped her get a job with the Symphony Orchestra, which she is enjoying. We had a talk a few weeks ago, and decided to start seeing each other again. We've both developed as people since we were last together, so we figured we'll see how it goes, being fully conscious of the fact that it might not work. I still really care about her, and with so much history between us, and so much at stake, there's no point in being anything less than 100% honest with each other. I told her that I'm not sure whether it's her, or the feeling of being in love with her that I miss, and she was prepared to accept that, and said we should just enjoy each others company and see what results from that.

 

Some of you (Phillipa) have asked how I can be so open about my love life on a circular email. Personally, I find it quite easy, for several reasons:

1. I don't sleep with animals.

2. I don't sleep with children.

3. I don't cheat.

 

So really, I don't see what I have to hide.

 

New York.

 

Badass.

 

My scholarship with the Conservatory of Dramatic Arts was the most challenging acting experience that I have had to date, but also the most rewarding. The conservatory is in the middle of Manhattan. I was staying with my friend Carin (thanks!) in inner Brooklyn,i.e: the safer part. There was accommodation available from the college, but at 3 times the board that I paid Carin, there was no way I could have done that and gone to Brazil as well. The consequence was that I was a little removed from the other students, but better that, than not have been there at all.

The first day was audition day, which saw us all put into groups according to ability. Apparently, my group was the top group, and there were 16 of us. Of the people that I saw audition, everyone was good. Everyone. Which made for quite an intense atmosphere, but it's nice to know that I can cut it in the face of such quality actors. I did hear that in some of the other audition groups, some candidates were more suited to the bloopers reel of Britain's Got Talent, but I'm glad I didn't see those: I'd much rather applaud someone than cringe for them.

 

Lots of english people on the course, which was quite comforting: made me feel very at home. Also, being black in North America is no big deal, and doesn't result in being stared at like ET, which can happen in Australia and New Zealand. the course itself was very intense: 9am-6:30pm everyday, sometimes with rehearsals after hours and on weekends as well. There were 6 course units: Shakespeare, Chekhov, stage combat, Scene study, TV commercials and Voiceovers, making for packed days, and it was all very emotionally draining. One remarkable thing I found was how well we all got on. There were a couple of small clashes, but all in all, everyone in my group was very supportive of one another. The last thing you need when you're trying to manipulate your emotions is someone actually getting on your nerves.

 

I was the second oldest person in my group, with about a third of people being under 21, meaning in the US, finding a place to go out could be very difficult. Fortunately, Carins husbands best friend owned an irish bar in Manhattan that wasn't exactly Fort Knox to get into, so we all piled into it on the first Friday night after having dinner together. There was also karaoke. Some of you may know that when I go to karaoke, the question isn't whether or not I'm going to sing, but how many they'll let me sing. Most of us got up twice, and took the place by storm. The party piece being Treys Bohemian Rhapsody, which I'm sure will make it onto Youtube at some point.

Halfway through, the bar owner came to me and said "Victor, what the Hell's going on here? You guys are all............ good!" I explained that we were all actors, and most of us have some singing training as well. He said we were welcome back anytime, and gave us all discounted drinks. We went back twice, including a very emotional last night from which I had to go pretty much straight to the airport to catch my flight back to Sydney. It's hard not to make good friends with people when you go through something that intense with them. I'm still good friends with a lot of the people I went through the Emergency Medicine College exams with, so I'll be speaking with those guys for a long time yet.

 

I got back to Sydney just in tie for my 11-hour shift in emergency, but I was still on such a high, it didn't actually hurt that much.

 

The bar owner is also a film writer, and wants us all to audition for his film,for which he's confirmed Robert Carlisle as the lead. He's secured half the funding ($3m), and it's going to be filmed in New York next year. He just needs the second half, and to think of a name.

 

I suggested "Little Red Rides The Hood".

 

He politely declined.

 

It was worth a try.

 

Victor.