Read My Boring-Ass Life (Revised Edition): The Uncomfortably Candid Diary of Kevin Smith Online
Authors: Kevin Smith
I watch the show in my guest room and am floored by how fucking boring and what a terrible interview the
O.C.
chick is. I’ve now been a couch guest five or six times on
Tonight
, always as the second interview, and have figured out that there’s this delicate balance you want in the guest who comes before you: you want them to be good, but not great. You want them to warm the audience up, so that when you get out there, you’re not facing a sleepy crowd. At the same time, you don’t want the first guest to kill — otherwise you’re gonna have a tough time impressing the audience. The
O.C.
chick offers nothing. It’s dead quiet out there — which makes my job harder, because I’ve gotta be even funnier than I planned on being and win the crowd within the first thirty seconds or risk tanking harder than the chick who just said she was lucky enough to be in Rome when the Pope died.
I’m sweating profusely (natch), so I get a little powder in the makeup room and trim my beard a touch. I get wired up and after the Human Ambien’s segment is over, I head backstage to go on, post-commercials.
I do my segment.
Post-show, I talk to Rob Thomas for a few seconds, say goodbye to Jay. Debbie Vickers (the producer of the show and a chick I really dig) tells me I killed, and Dave Berg thanks me for a great segment. I head back to my dressing room where I talk with a guy who pops in to tell me he used to be an accountant on the
Clerks
cartoon, and how ABC fucked it up. Then Andy comes by to give me the thumbs up on the segment, as does Kristin and John Melendez (aka Stuttering John). John and I bullshit for a while about Howard and the Sirius move, as well as other non-Howard related stuff. Forty-five minutes later, it’s just me and Kristin, and we go over stuff we wanna do for the book (I opt against taking out magazine ads, as it’s a waste of money, and agree to do an interview on Air America if they can get me in), including a celebratory We Sold Out the First Printing signing party we’re thinking of doing at the Stash before I head off to
Catch
. I drop Kristin off at the front door of the studio where her car’s waiting, and head home.
I get into my woobs and sack out behind the computer for a little email checking and UB. Soon, it’s dinnertime, and I head upstairs for a Byron-grilled cheeseburger while everyone else is doing tacos. We talk about the Vancouver move as well as Harley’s day and what she wants to do in British Columbia. It’s about then that I realize I still don’t have directions to the
Bottom’s Up
set tonight, where I’m supposed to be in an hour, so I head downstairs to call Mewes and play some more UB.
I collect a bunch of wardrobe possibilities (pjs and a robe), kiss Jen, and head off to the Valley for the
Bottoms Up
shoot.
Find the lot where they’re shooting, pull in, and head to the trailer I share with Mewes for this, the last night of shooting. I whip out the wardrobe I brought for approval, go over last minute script changes with the writer, meet the producers, get hair and makeup done, and head to the set.
I share the scene with Mewes, an actor named Desmond Harrington, and two girls. The production’s pressed for time, so the number of takes we do is limited. All goes well, and the night (and film) wraps around one in the morning.
I get home and play a little UB before crashing.
Wednesday 20 April 2005 @ 11:30 p.m.
We head to the Newsroom Café for some breakfast, and then swing out to Laser Blazer to pick up new DVDs. Jen heads into some chick clothing store nearby and finds an awesome eighties-era DC Superheroines shirt titled ‘Ladies Night’. As she buys three (one for her, one for Harley and one for Chay), I take a picture of the lineup with my phone so I can send it to Walter to discern who the one chick in the weird get-up is (turns out it’s the circa eighties Zatanna, minus the top hat and fishnets). After the shirt store, Jen and I get into an argument because of the way I pull out into traffic while trying to send the picture to Walter. After a long period of silence, we argue some more, at which point she insists I “drive like an asshole”. The fight gets worse, and we don’t talk the rest of the way home.
We’re home for about twenty minutes before we speak again, and it only makes things worse. I head off to the bathroom to shit and update my diary, during which the anger starts to subside, as I remember that a life with even a sometimes-contentious Schwalbach is better than a life without one. I emerge from the toilet a kinder, gentler me, and set about putting the fight behind us by apologizing (though I didn’t start the fight). We cuddle and opt to head out again, this time over to the Valley to finally get Jen’s eyes examined and get her a prescription for glasses.
We’re in Lenscrafters and the adjoining optometrist for two hours, during which Jen gets diagnosed and given a prescription. I have them swap out my scratched sunglasses lenses and have them re-do the lenses in my regular glasses while they’re at it. Jen gets her pupils dilated, so for the next few hours, she’s walking around with massive black dots for eyes.
We swing by Quizno’s and down some subs, then stop at Koo-Koo-Roo for some Harley grub. After that, we stop by the cleaners to pick up stuff we dropped off the other day, and head back home.
Harley chows down while I go online beside her on the bed. We play some Disney Yahtzee, and then Jen takes her for her bath while I take care of some IM business. Mewes rolls in to say he’s going to Commerce Casino to play some real poker (instead of UB, which we’re trying to get in touch with Annie about so she’ll dump some coin in our accounts). Jen reads to Harley and puts her to bed on the couch. I sit in my office while she tries to go to sleep, but she’s chatting away for awhile before she succumbs.
Around nine, I take Byron and Gail to the airport. They’re heading out to Florida on a red-eye to see some relatives. Mulder and Scully take the ride with us, and on the way home, I pick up some burgers for the three of us.
When I get home, Chay’s there, chit-chatting with Jen and having some wine. I talk with them for a bit while I feed myself and the dogs the burgers I picked up. I head downstairs, jump online, IM with Annie, replenish my UB account, and gamble ‘til Jen comes downstairs again. After that, I gamble some more, and go to sleep around 2 a.m.
Thursday 21 April 2005 @ 11:30 p.m.
I wake up around 9:30 a.m., and Jen’s already taken Harley to school. She’s upstairs checking email on her laptop when I find her. We sit around the living room and bicker for awhile, and then kiss and make-up.
We find Mewes in the kitchen, playing some UB. We chit-chat for a bit, then head downstairs and cuddle for a bit on the couch before I remember that my wardrobe fitting for
Catch & Release
is in a half hour. I look out the window and find Tish and Karin (the wardrobe chicks) already here, sitting in their car. I tell ’em to come up, and Jen heads into the shower.
This is the first time I’ve ever had a wardrobe fitting, really. On some of our stuff, I’d try on a shirt or two (
Dogma
particularly), but since my Silent Bob get-up never really changes, a long fashion show is never required of me. This time it’s different: I’m in three-quarters of the movie, so there are lots of options required, hence the hour and change we spend going through clothes. I’ve been dreading this, because — I don’t know if anyone’s ever noticed this, but — I have, like, two outfits that I ever wear, really. The prospect of new clothes — clothes that may not fit me as well as the clothes I enjoy wearing do — doesn’t really make me hard. But Tish and Karin make it a painless process, and pretty soon, I’m actually enjoying myself, digging out what a more ‘granola’ (the flick’s set in Colorado) version of me might wear.
Tish and Karin leave, and I get into the shower. As I finish, Jen comes home from Bristol Farms (she left while I was doing the fitting) with some filet mignon and side dishes. As I dry off, I play some more UB until the door phone rings, heralding the arrival of Zach Braff. I tell him to head upstairs, buzz him in, and throw some clothes on.
I join Zach upstairs, then — at his request — give him the house tour. When we’re done, we head back up to the kitchen where I prep the steaks and we talk about his being ‘Punk’d’, as well as a bunch of other topics.
While I grill, we chit-chat some more — mostly about his blog and this website. Once the steaks are done, we head to the dining room to eat and talk about
Garden State
, Natalie Portman, and all things
Fletch
.
As we finish, Mewes comes upstairs, balancing his laptop and cell phone. He says hi to Zach, then heads off deep into the living room to play UB while Zach and I finish up. I’ve met him before, of course (on the
Declare Yourself
PSAs), but this is the most time I’ve gotten to spend with him. He’s an excellent guy.
The
Garden State
-er gives me his email address, and he’s off. I call Mewes downstairs and we go into my office to play some UB: him on his laptop and me on my desk-top. While we’re playing, Jen comes home from going shopping with Harley after school, before her gymnastics class. I’m told that I’m on Harley pickup, post-gymnastics, so twenty minutes later, I’m in the car, heading to grab the kid.
Thanks to the Hellish LA traffic patterns, I’m about seven minutes late. I’m handed a bawling Quinnster, who’s the last kid to get picked up (what kind of anal-ass parents are there before class ends, making a brother look bad? Sheesh...). I apologize to the quivering, crying mass of tears and red cheeks that is my daughter, and we head for some ice cream (first at the food store, then at the ice cream parlor Mashti Malone’s).
We get home, and Harley says hi to Jen, then heads off to play with Reyna. I sack out on the bed, watching TiVo’ed
Simpsons
and
Law & Order
s with Jenny while playing UB, until she moseys off to collect Harley and give her a bath. Phil Raskind calls, and we talk about the post-
Catch
and
Clerks
schedule ‘til Jen and Harley return. They read books together, and then Jen puts Harley down on the couch. My gig is to stay with her in the room ‘til she falls asleep, so I hang out on the bed, playing some UB. Twenty minutes later, I’m hearing the angelic snores of the slumbering heir to the Smith fortune, so I head upstairs to join Jen in the living room. We opt for some fine eighties cheese:
Dynasty
, season one. Jen’s never seen an episode, but I was raised on it (Mom was an avid watcher back in the day). We cuddle up and watch the Carringtons for an hour before we get up from cuddle-zone — Jen to smoke and me to check email — still deep into a pilot episode that never seems to end.
Around eleven, we opt to head downstairs for some TiVo and sleep. We cuddle for a bit during
Simpsons
, until Jen’s more or less asleep. Then, I play UB ‘til I fall asleep mid-game.
Friday 22 April 2005 @ 11:30 p.m.
Harley wakes up at 6:30 a.m. and immediately sets about trying to wake us up as well. Jen sends her to let the dogs out and dig up some breakfast while we try to grab some more shut-eye. By seven-thirty, though, it’s a losing battle, as the kid is just flat-out harassing us to wake up. Jen gets her ready for school while I take a leak and throw on some clothes.
I drop Harley off at school and swing by McDonald’s for some hash browns and a large Diet Coke for Jen and some sausage patties for me.
Jen and I chit-chat up in the living room while we eat our breakfast. Following that, I head down to the bedroom, lay down again, and start playing some UB while watching TiVo’ed
Law & Order
s. Jen showers and heads off to her doctor’s appointment while I wrap up my UB game and head to the bedroom office to start updating the diary. While doing so, I get a call to do an interview about my favorite birthday memory, and another call from CNN, asking me to come in and talk about comic book movies. Since they’re less than five minutes from the house, I say “sure”. Following that, I iChat a bit with Don about some missing signed stuff and Chappy about a new
Mallrats
script book we’re thinking of making.
I shower and head to CNN. There, I meet up with Jeremy (the segment producer) again who tells me I had big fans in the NY and LA offices regarding the “golden showers” comment last week. While I’m waiting to tape my interview, I run into Brooke Anderson, who’s apparently moved out to LA (the last time I saw her was when she interviewed me at the Atlanta CNN offices, circa
Jersey Girl
) and getting married. Following that, I do my interview and head home.
I’m home about ten minutes and answering some email when Jen comes home from the doctor’s and lunch with her friend Lisa Roumaine. We opt to go pick up Harley together, hit the bank, and grab some grub. When Harley’s loaded in the car, she chooses Koo-Koo-Roo for dinner, so we head over to the Valley. We hit the Roo and then the bank before going home.
At home, we all get into our woobs and lounge around. Harley watches a DVD of the puppet version of
Blue’s Clues
called
Blue’s Room
(in which, sadly, Blue speaks in a human voice) while I play UB beside her on the bed and Jen waters her plants upstairs. Jen joins us on the bed, and the three of us play a game called Traffic Jam that’s really supposed to be only a one-player game. Jen orders some pizza, and Harley and I watch some more of
Blue’s
before the pizza comes.
The pizza arrives, and I pick at the cheese, so as not to derail from Atkins. But the temptation proves too great, and I finally eat a whole slice. Then another. Since the twenty-or-less carb quota has been broken for the day, Jen and I opt to order a bunch of junk food from Yummy that we’ll down while we watch more
Dynasty
.
We put Harley to bed, and I stay in the room with her, playing UB, ‘til she’s good and asleep. Then, I take my game into the shitter and drop a mean one. Following that, Jen tells me that her friend Trish is coming over for an hour
before she heads out for the night. I give the girls their space while I order some
Yummy.com
in what the clerk must assume is a weed-induced selection of sugars and salts. As I wait for the delivery, I get the diary up to date.