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I just finished my feature. I'm sobbing right now.
suddenly i was @ 05:07 pm
(no feathers)
friday, april 28, 2006
Well today was delightfully fun!
First we only had one screening today, so by 10:30 AM I was completely done with being at school. I knew I had to go home and write, but I didn’t want to, so I stood about—walked Ad. downstairs then went back up top and just waited for excitement. Excitement came in the form of a lunch troupe. A whole mess of people started saying, “Let’s go to 101,” which is this little café place off the 101 freeway. I was invited, so I went.
The crew ended up being AN AMRY. We were like 15 and I was the only female (I am telling you, such is the life of A. a female at AFI, B. Really the whole of Hollywood). Some of my favourite people were there including Shades and So. Africa, but it really was such a mixed group—everyone from Eowyn to Porn Guy’s best mate—who’s actually a dcent guy, even though he looks like a serial killer. I worked on his film this past weekend. I forgot to write about that! Hits head. Basically it’s this Western, the Critical Canadian is producing. The location was amazing. Out in the middle of NOWHERE, our call time was 5:30 AM, but since it was in the middle of no where, we (the Best Mate and I) had to leave my house at 4:40 AM, which meant my alarm went off at 3:45 AM! Seriously!
But while we were up there, it was just pitch. Pitch, pitch, pitch. Nothing could be seen anywhere. We were out at this movie ranch somewhere outside of some place called Santa Clarita, which has hills which look like they belong in the Cretaceous Period. The movie ranch’s gate opened and we drove up rocky hills. The sun began to come up and the edges of the mountains were just iridescent blue in the low hanging rain clouds. The camera crew hurried like mad to set up the cameras when the pinks of dawn began to crest the other side of the sky.
I set up craft and it was cold and rainy. The Critical Canadian gave me a coat, however, so I was warm. When I came down imagine my surprise, however, when there were HORSES! I was even more shocked because I knew later in the day we had 10 children.
I don’t know if anyone knows much about movie costages, but animals and children? YEAH-EH! Most expensive items you can imagine. The insurance for one horse alone should have bankrupted the team, but somehow the CC managed to get them for free so he could have the army of kids.
I think the short is going to look amazing, by the way. That location. Whistles. Lovely.
Apropos of nothing: I was thanked in the “Special Thanks” section of the credits in the film today and I have NO IDEA what I did for them.
Anyhow, back to my awesome lunch. The conversation was general. At one point one writer (we were all writers) left the table and when he came back he said, “Look who I found!” and it was Soviet Union. “YAY!” I said loudly for I do so adore that boy.
After lunch, Soviet Union gave me a ride back to AFI, which was nice. Once there I continued to waste time by just wandering and talking to… wait. Whoever. I spent a good deal of time with Shades, Soviet Union, So. Africa and oh, someone I haven’t talked about—let’s call him Jordan because that’s where he’s from. Jordan had an amazing story about a “situation” he lives in. He’s desperately in love with this girl who is his roommate. They live together. They got two dogs together. They are NOT romantically involved she is adamant about that fact—but they share a bed.
Shades told me that back story.
JORDAN: That’s a good punchline to everything. “But they share a bed.”
I wandered some more with Shades and Soviet Union. Shades teased the other because apparently a group of them went hiking and Soviet Union went in his loafers. Soviet Union, you just want to take care of him. He is so woefully dressed and does things like hike in loafs. You just want to take him shopping and make him look sharp, because he’s quite the handsome guy—you just would never know because he wears giant plaid shirts and hikes in loafers!
Finally my dad called and gave me the answer to some scholarship questions. I went up to my car, got my forms handed them in and finally left AFI, a mere 2.5 hours of social procrastination later.
I am getting so, so, so, so, so unbelievably sad thinking I won’t be seeing these people every day. I think I am going to sob in my last classes. I just want to hug them all and make time stop so we don’t have to go apart!
Oh, there was some DA-RAHM-MA today with the Directors’ Acting class. So, the acting teacher loves our class. I think it’s because we actually try and we’re the first writing class in the history of ever who has ever worked “like actors.” Our teacher just laughs all class long and then sends us nice emails. It’s just like play time.
The Director class is much different. First, I think he’s harder on them because, well. The subject matter applies more to them. Second, they don’t work as much. Glinda tells me this. She says the writers actually seem to make and effort where as the directors really don’t.
ANYHOW. This gossip is straight from Glinda, bee tea double ewe, I am SO the first writer with this hot story. – Today the class was SEVERELY unprepared. Only three groups or something were ready, so the teacher cancelled the class. That in and of itself is a big deal, but then after—there’s this one director, I’ve even worked for him. He’s this HUGE guy and he has a HUGE anger management problem. He came out and started being belligerent at the teacher. I mean, all the four letter words you can imagine. Screaming. I mean, when I say this guy has an anger management problem—I am NOT kidding. He goes into FITS of rage which are really terrifying. It’s weird too, because otherwise he’s very soft spoken and polite—but if he gets cross? It’s like the Hulk.
Anyhow, the acting teacher felt threatened so he called security and all the guards came and had to get the director to settle down. By this point the acting teacher is yelling, “Shut the fk up!” and the head of the directing discipline, a very, very demure British man came out. When the director came up to him to talk, even the he said, “Shut the fk up.” – This is big time folks. I didn’t even know the British Directing Chair KNEW that word.
Anyhow, when it finally calmed down, security started taking statements from everyone and then Glinda showed up (she was late because she was at the doctors). Now she thinks the whole class has been cancelled for the rest of the year.
!
Now I see why the acting teacher loves the writers…
Op, there’s Ad. on the phone. Let’s see what the boy wants.
Ta!
P.S. Did I tell you I caught a mole?
suddenly i was @ 11:30 pm
(no feathers)
But yes, just to expound on my point, Tuesday So. Af. had to come and pick me up because I took my car to the shop to realign my sun roof as I was experiencing excess wind noise. We got out and were walking to our class room, it was early for he had to practice with his acting class group, we opened up the door and BAM! Up flies a mess of morning doves.
The bird.
Oh yes, real birds.
How did they get in there? Why? When?
The world may never know, but as we saw the doves for the first time, So. Africa turned to me and said, “Today is going to be a weird day.” Just then Shades walked up and could hear the cooing racket, So. Af. called out to him, “And for my next trick!”
The three of us slipped in the class room and closed the door. We didn’t want the doves to get out, but we were afraid to move because they were PANICKED. One flew into a window, not hard, but he would if we scared him any more.
Slowly we opened all the windows and eventually the doves flew out, but as I stood there, thinking of the doves—I couldn’t help think, “So. Af. is right, today is going to be a weird day.”
I went to the computer lab to print up some pages, Bday was there early so we talked. I know I haven’t seen him in 10 days because of Spring Break, but I couldn’t help but notice he looked different, Bday said the same of me. As the hour grew later, more and more people came in. Ad.
AD: You look pretty today.
ME: Why thank you. I like your hair.
I.
I: Bday, you look different, your hair or something.
P.
ME: P, you look so… glowing.
Everyone looked different. None of us could decide if we are all spending way too much time together, so after 10 days apart we noticed hair styled with a different gel or if the break just finally awarded the fellows with some well-deserved sleep and we all looked healthy for once. Needless to say, everyone was looking at each other with wonder and poking arms to see if the visages were real.
I guess the next strange thing which happened was this: two people have been, “expelled.” They are actually just “suspended” but for a year, so it might as well be expulsion. It was the director and cinematographer of I.’s group. I don’t really know either. My friend at CalArts knew the director because he graduated from there last year or so ago. Anyhow, it was a big to-do. The two got into trouble first because they shot one scene in the street with out a permit, but I. showed the disciplinary letter which was received and the list is a mile long. Not only were they shooting in a street without a permit (had the actress been hurt she could have sued AFI, had the police came by they could have banned AFI from ever shooting in Los Angeles streets—it’s a bit offense), they did things like drive a truck towards a camera to get a shot and an uninsured driver (only the cinematographer and the producer are insured to drive equipment trucks) was driving the truck, they positioned the camera on the back of a car to get a moving shot (can’t mount cameras), the lied about all of the above (not making matters better). It was just unbelievable. I feel really bad, but at the same time, what were they thinking?
The director and cinematographer took all the blame. They said they lied to the producer to get her off set and made the decision independent of anyone else on the crew. I. was written up and given “disciplinary probation.” He is working to get an appeal. He said he had a letter so I told him to bring it in as his pages for workshop class. Basically, his point was as a writer he had nothing to do with matters which happened on set. Had this been an actual professional production, would the screenwriter be held accountable for something which happened on set?
No.
I think he has a good chance of getting the decision repealed. He hasn’t been in trouble before, both guilty parties have stated he’s innocent—makes sense.
After that, there was workshop.
It was whatever.
Next was acting class.
OH SPECIAL.
It was so bad. --- WOW. It’s been so long since I started this entry.
Basically, I walked in, sat down and forgot EVERY SINGLE LINE. The first thing which came out of my mouth was the last line of the script. You should have seen, P.’s face. We kept going, didn’t break character, but hoo. We just ruined that scene.
The point of this entry was at the end of the day Katie Homes gave birth, proving the day WAS weird.
Basically I have been really, really, really busy. Glinda and I cranked out a thesis. I am excited… I can’t wait to see if we get greenlit.
The AFI thesis process works like this:
Anyone can write a thesis. A thesis here is a script. After everyone has submitted, the scripts go through a series of reads and 28 are “greenlit,” that is, given the go-ahead to be made.
With my thesis, the story is Glinda’s but I wrote it. It’s about a little girl who thinks she’s dying from AIDS because she’s too good to live. It’s a comedy.
What else? I. was cleared of punishment (looking above).
Oh! Ad. fell off a truck. – In his quest to be the most pitiful person I know (I mean this as a dear, dear thing).
While crewing on set, he was standing on the lift-gate of a moving truck. All the work lights had been wrapped, so it was dark out (it was about 9 PM). He went to take a step, thinking he was moving onto more lift-gate and seriously miscalculated and just stepped off the raised platform! He fell, hitting a fence, then bounced back and hit the truck itself.
By the time I got to him the next day, he was limping and we had to buy him a wrist brace.
He was all banged up, had scrapes on his knees, bruises on his hip… I don’t think he stepped off, it sounds more like he FLEW off the truck. I am convinced he hit his head as well. Right after it happened, he couldn’t remember falling and couldn’t remember later, when they were taking him home—where he lived! It sounds like he gave himself a mild concussion.
Anyhow, on Tuesday in acting class, our teacher was taking role and he always does this thing where he asks how you are. He has a radar for who feels bad.
TEACHER: How are you?
YOU: Fine.
TEACHER: You better get your left kidney checked, it’s developing a stone.
He asked Ad. and Ad. said he fell off a truck, ya da. Before anyone knew anything, our teacher plucked Ad. away to “report the injury.” P. and I were half delighted, because we didn’t have to do our scene, but by 8 PM when I still hadn’t heard from him, I was worried.
Basically, he was made an appointment with a chiropractor then went home to rest. While he was home he was calling people on the phone, when he had a coughing attacked. After the attack had passed his eye began to bother him, so much, he went to the mirror—and he had purple welts across his face, his eye was pussing and half his face was swollen!
I have seen the pictures. It’s true.
It went down in a few hours, but it’s just another nice weird twist. He’s falling apart!
Yesterday I took him to the chiropractor. She said she thought he had hit his head, his reflexes are all screwed up in his leg and there’s swelling around his lower spine!
JESUS CHRIST.
I think I might be taking him again on Monday. We’ll see.
Otherwise, not much going on. I miss meeting with Glinda all the time, we’re trying to figure out things to do so we can still see each other every other day. She’s reading my feature right now (terror!). I. had some ZINGER one liners in acting class the other day, including my personal favourite: “You’ve made the gay god very unhappy. You will be unfabulous for the rest of your life.”
That class was AMAZING that day.
Eowyn, remember him? The first person I sat with at school? He’s so quiet and good natured and well-behaved… he wrote the RAUNCHIEST scene for class. Bday, R. and I., the raunchiest lot at AFI, turned in shock! He won beaucoup points. Basically the scene was a guy selling another guy a gun but they were talking about porn.
GUY 1: And it’s all with these small people.
GUY 2: Small people.
GUY 1: Yeah, you know. Little Man Tate, Midget Jones’ Diary. It’s a huge business—no pun intended.
Oh my god, I am just laughing thinking of it.
GUY 1: You know you get those little midget women’s mouths and a normal sized cock and suddenly it looks 3 feet long!
It was so wrong! And coming from Eowyn, the sweetest little person in the universe.
Later when we switched groups around and another writer changed the setting of the scene and it became a confession with the Priest being into porn. Little Man Tate became “Little Man Taint.”
Also in that class, R. had to direct Canada Lass and Porn Guy in a scene and she made Porn Guy be a stripper. It was pretty hilarious.
Did I tell you I wrote my school and said I couldn’t be in a class with Porn Guy next year and I know for a fact other girls have done the same?
My feature is due next week. Everything is wrapping up and I am just mad busy filling out scholarship forms and writing, writing, writing. But I DID want to let you know I am alive. I have to clean my apt. a bit now. It is SCUMMY with the FILTH OF HUMANITY.
suddenly i was @ 02:27 am
(no feathers)
sunday, april 16, 2006
Ok, ignoring the angst below--- something really special just happened-- out of no where, after weeks and months of just sitting here for the FIRST TIME at AFI-- the words just came out and I just wrote the whole climax to my script and maybe it's awful I don't know, but I don't think I can do anything else for the rest of the evening. It just about broke my heart.
suddenly i was @ 12:54 am
(no feathers)
thursday, april 13, 2006
You, or Jesus.Please.
Tell me.
I was driving home today and traffic was moving at a nice clip. Suddenly, the cars in front of me stopped. So I stopped. I was Shanghaied out in the middle of a crosswalk and the light changed. “Move, move, move” I said and about 15 seconds later traffic lurched forward and so did I. No honks. No yells. Just a 20 second blip everyone on the planet understands.
Five seconds later:
WHOOP.
That’s right. A police siren, heralding the cop who would give me my first citation of all time. I have to go appear in court for “obstructing traffic” also known as: the pedestrian with the iPod who had to circumnavigate my vehicle to cross.
At first I couldn’t believe it was happening and that it was for me.
I have never, ever been given a ticket. EVER. Even when I was in my giant accident which was so clearly my dumb fault for getting confused.
This? A. I didn’t know it was a law I had to clear the insection/crosswalk at all costs, B. I can’t even say, “had I but known” because there was no way to predict. Obviously I thought I was going to clear the intersection and had no clue the cars in front of m were going to stop. It’s not like I raced towards stopped cars. We were all moving at the same time and we all stopped at the same time.
As for obstructing justice, I mean traffic, no one honked. No one cared. It literally lasted 15 seconds, maximum 20, I was out there, we moved. EVERYONE gets it. I’ve done this same thing a million times, I’ve witnessed it a million times.
The cop told me it was for my own protection then told me he wasn’t going to write me up for not having CA plates.
When I am LEGALLY the resident of another state (call the IRS even, yo) do I HAVE to have Californian plates? That doesn’t even make sense.
So anyhow, I am unbelievably pissed that my spotless record is now besmirched with something this stupid. For my first ticket I wanted to be going 20 over the speed limit or double parked, not just stopped because I didn’t want to plow into cars ahead of me.
Fork California. I can’t stand this place. My car has be totaled once, crashed into on the street twice (1,000 dollars worth of damage I didn’t incur, weeee), broken (gear shift and window, 1,000 worth of repairs, weeeeeeeee) and now I have a ticket. Before I came here I had never even hit a curb. Screw California and its sick dependency on cars and screw Glendale up the arse with a rose bush branch counter clockwise.
Excuse me, I have to go figure out how I am going to appear in court the day I am submitting my thesis.
suddenly i was @ 04:13 pm
(no feathers)
friday, april 7, 2006
Well, today was a delight. We had this “class” in the morning. I don’t know what it was. To quote my Old Producer: “I’ve been up since yesterday, my face physically hurts and got here to learn AFI has been online since 1995. We’re on the information super highway! That’s why I’m here.”Whatever. I was so sleepy, but I was bored and wanted to do something entertaining. So I pulled Ad. over and asked if he wanted to go to the Barnes and Noble in Glendale. I have two places I like to go to for fun when I am bored: the Grove and this shopping center in Glendale. Don’t know why. I just find both spots to be fun and relaxing.
Ad. said sure, so we were off.
I don’t even know if I have the capacity to write up all that went on. It was just a constant dialogue starting like this:
ME: Well, they have astrology books upstairs and I like to look at them to… see if they were right.
AD: Can I use that in a film?
We read up on our star signs, Ad. said he didn’t believe it, mine was kind of off—THOUGH the first week of April said romance was blossoming with a colleague, so to the few peeps I was talking with last night: dude. The astrology book says it’s so.
Ad. and I bought lunch. We shared a sandwich and talked over various lame things—we were still getting in gear.
Then as we were leaving the book store, there was this old woman with her book doing a book signing. Ad. had been interested in the novels, so he stopped at her table and started talking to her. I thought he was going to buy a book and you KNOW that’s what the little Old Lady thought as well. We talked an age, then Ad. waved and said, “Well, see ya!” and left.
I shook the woman’s hand and then as Ad. and I were pressing out the door I whispered under my breath: “I can’t believe you sat there and talked to her and didn’t even buy her book!”
We burst outside to the afternoon sun.
AD: What?
ME: I can’t believe you didn’t get her book, that was so rude.
AD: No it wasn’t, I was just talking to her.
ME: But she thought you were going to buy her book.
AD: She was all alone, I talked to her, it was nice.
ME: Flip the situation. You’re there with your script with a bunch of producers. They start talking to you, “So, you’re from Wales?” you talk and talk, they’re holding your script in their hands, flipping through the pages then at the end, they just hand back your script and say, “Good luck.”
AD: No, it’s totally different. Her work was already published, she’s all ready had some victories.
ME: Keep telling yourself that.
AD: How is stopping to talk to a little old lady who’s all alone a bad thing?
ME: When you don’t stop to buy the book she’s selling.
AD: Old ladies like it when young men talk to them!
ME: Unless they don’t buy their book.
AD: So you’re saying it would have been better to walk by and ignore her.
ME: If you weren’t interested in the book, yes.
AD: I was interested in the book!
ME: Then why didn’t you buy it?
AD: Why didn’t you?
ME: Because I wasn’t interested!
AD: I wanted it but I didn’t have 14 dollars to spend on a book. That book wasn’t worth 14 dollars.
ME: That’s right, make her feel even worse.
AD: Well, look. You could have been like—
ME: Oh no. Don’t you pin this on me.
AD: You could said, “He’s a really good screenwriter.”
ME: You could have said that about me.
AD: No, then she would have known why I was talking to her.
ME: Because you weren’t doing it because you wanted the book.
This conversation will probably be going on for the next two years. We went to Petco and looked at the baby mice. I chose a black one and one with a Mohawk. I named them Fred and Darth. Then we looked at Guppies and Ad. said he has never met Napoleon.
We also went into this World Market store and Michael’s, the conversation continuing, Ad. eventually falling into the belief he was evil.
AD: Let’s just go back.
ME: Nope.
AD: Why not? I don’t want to be an evil person.
ME: No. Too late. The moment is gone.
AD: What moment? There was no moment.
ME: That’s right, because it’s gone.
AD: There was no moment to start with!
ME: Yes there was, the moment you put the book back down on the table. SHH. Hear that? That’s the sound of her poetic heart breaking.
AD: We can still go back.
ME: Nope.
At this point, we turned into the grocery store. I might mention, I don’t think I stopped laughing once. In the grocery store, our favorite place in the world, right? In front of the meat section, the conversation took a turn and we just talked about everyone at AFI and I think I am beginning to figure Ad.’s weird questions. I think he just wants me to be with someone. It’s just odd discussing these things, well for me—with ANYONE, but in particular a male. First we were talking about Canada Lass, who for a short while carried something of a torch for Ad. Ad. and Canada Lad were pals, but one day, Canada Lad came up to him and basically said, he really liked Canada Lass and would Ad. mind if he tried to start something. Ad. said, he was in a relationship and was happy with someone else, so of course, he had no opinion in the matter.
Canada Lass, on the other end of things, did not reciprocate, but would… take advantage in certain (dramatic pause, hoping to convey meaning subtextually) ways, leaving Canada Lad rather hurt and confused. Now, currently, Canada Lass has found the one she pines for: London Girl! But—Canada Lass didn’t act fast enough and so London Girl hooked up with Israeli Girl (it’s like the Young and the Restless at AFI) so now Canada Lass has learned how it’s a bad thing what she did to Canada Lad, because the same is being done to her. THAT was a long convoluted story to get to my point, Ad. was saying, “I think Canada Lad could get over Canada Lass if he just had some time apart—I think it’s situation that she’s just here so he likes her, but if he were around other people—that’s the other problem. Canada Lass says Canada Lad doesn’t have other friends.”
ME: Who doesn’t love Canada Lad?
AD: That’s just it, it’s a case of everyone thinks everyone loves Canada Lad, but who hangs out with him?
This strain of thought eventually evolved into a point.
AD: Why don’t you go out with Canada Lad?
ME: Me? No, no, no, no.
AD: Do you not think he’s attractive?
ME: No! I think he’s one of the most handsome people at school!
> Insert a mental moment of me imagining I am covering up my mouth and thinking, “I can’t believe I just said that out loud!”<
Let’s have a moment of reprieve and here’s a cute little scene.
Ad. had an eyelash on his cheek.
ME: Oh, hold still, you have an eyelash.
Ad. holds still. I go to get the eyelash…
AND SHOCK HIS EYEBALL!
Ad. flails back.
AD: OW!
I fall into fits of laughter.
The strain of thought continued:
AD: You could just call him up, like Canada Lass did.
ME: No! That’s wrong and embarrassing. Why are we still talking about this?
AD: This is the longest we’ve talked about relationships that aren’t mine and I’ve never talked about anything remotely sexual with you. I mean, what do you do?
ME: What do you mean, what do I do?
AD: You know what I mean.
ME: I just told you, sit around at home and watch History Channel programs about the AntiChrist.
AD: No, you’re supposed to say something like, ride a horse or be like Lindsay Lohan.
ME: No, shh. It’s private.
AD: What?
ME: It’s private!
This is why we have such fun at the grocery store. I should also add Ad. engages in grocery cart “wheelies” and stands on one end of the cart while I pull the other.
Ad. and I bought our items and made our way out to the parking lot.
AD: How could you do nothing?
ME: I don’t know anyone!
AD: You could get laid all the time, you know like 70 guys!
ME: I don’t want to!
AD: Oh, it’s like me. They open their mouth and their Doability Rate goes down.
ME: Their… Doability Rate.
AD: Yeah.
ME: What exactly IS their Doability Rate.
AD: You know, like, “I would do her.”
ME: And your rate is down.
AD: Only after people hear me speak.
ME: Maybe that’s because you talk and don’t buy their books.
Ad takes off his sweater and hat.
AD: Fine. Look, do I look like a different person now? I can go back in.
ME: You can’t go back in. Face it, you blew it.
AD: I don’t care, I’m going!
Ad. feigns running across the parking lot.
ME: No! Don’t you dare! I will leave you here.
AD: How about I give you my debit card and you go and pay?
ME: No way. I’m not doing your dirty work.
We wandered over to Wild Oats, or Whole Foods, or whatever the store is called here. Ad. peered into Barnes and Noble.
AD: There she is… still all alone.
ME: And without one book sold.
Ad. bought a pound of Wheat Germ and we also developed thoughts on exercise while we played with frog puppets.
AD: I need these for when I do pull ups on the side of my bed, because the wood cuts into my hand.
ME: Why don’t you just use a normal glove?
AD: I use old socks.
ME: LOVELY. I can’t do pull ups.
AD: You know you can just do this.
(Ad. makes fists, squeezing his hand shut)
ME: Oh really?
AD: Of course it works better if you’re male.
(I hit Ad.)
AD: That’s why one arm is stronger than the other.
ME: Why don’t you use your one strong arm to go put back some old ladies’ books?
AD: We can go back!
ME: The moment is gone!
Ad. and I loaded into the car and still continued.
AD: Here’s the thing. You could have said, “We’ve got to go,” and that would have given me a reason—
ME: No, no. Don’t peg the fault on me. You were the evil one.
AD: I wasn’t! I’m just saying you should have known.
ME: I thought you were buying the book!
AD: We can still go in there.
ME: Do you really want to go back?
AD: Mm.
ME: Good. Because we’re not.
Halfway out of Glendale, I tuned my song because, highly amused as I was Ad. was totally obsessing over the fact.
ME: Why do you even talk to me? I’m so evil. You are good.
AD: No, I’m the evil one.
I lean over and hug him in his seat.
ME: You are a good person. You just don’t like old ladies.
AD: But I do! They make my Doability Rate go up.
We went to Home Depot to learn about wood because Ad. has to get better support for the underside of his mattress. Only about half way through the process of asking about wood to go under a mattress, did I realize the guy helping us was probably having total dirty bird thoughts.
ACK.
We drove along the way to get Ad. home.
AD: Why don’t you just call up Shades and say, “Shades, let’s go out.”
ME: No, it’s too embarrassing.
AD: Why? You can just say, “Dinner, movie, long walk in the sun, no sex.”
ME: That’s too awkward. Or, more of a relief really. “Thank god!” he’ll say.
AD: Well we hang out and nothing happens.
ME: You don't count.
AD: Or, or! You can call up and say the opposite and surprise them and they’ll be like, “I didn’t expect that of her!”
ME: No thanks. I think I can do better.
AD: Do better than Canada Lad?
ME: No! No, not at all. He’s out of my league! Here are the people I appeal to: scary, stalker, crazy psychos—that’s Porn Guy. Homeless Crazies—oh. And people who want me to be in porn.
I pulled over into Ad.’s alley and wrapped up thoughts. I told him my porn story (for those who haven’t been with this journal long, once in Chicago a guy off the street tried to hire me to be in a porn movie because I “got a big ass.”)
AD: Is your ass big?
ME: See, that’s why I can’t tell that story, now I can’t stand near you.
AD: I don’t think it’s big, you’ve just got a slim waist.
ME: I’m slim this way, but I go on for miles this way.
AD: Well that will be good for having babies.
ME: OH! Because that is so happening any time in the future.
Ad. began playing with his hair in the vanity mirror. He wants it to grow long, but he doesn’t know how it will look (p.s. emo).
AD: What’s the worst part about the way I look?
ME: The worst part?
AD: Yeah, what’s the ugliest thing about me.
ME: I don’t think you’re ugly. You’re right up there with Shades and Canada Lad.
AD: YES.
Ad. talked about which girls he thought were pretty at school, which was humorous then the conversation wrapped with the nice little thought:
AD: I don’t know. I don’t like hanging out with people who have high opinions of themselves. I like to be with people who have no idea how cool they are.
I don’t know if I was the targeted audience of that comment, but I still took it as a compliment.
Ad. rolled out of the car and grabbed his groceries. I rolled down the window and talked to him as he gathered things.
ME: Now you know EVERYTHING.
AD: What? You didn’t tell me anything juicy.
ME: You have to talk next time. It’s not fair. All I know is you don’t like Old Ladies and you ran over your pet cat.
AD: I told you, I like old ladies!
ME: Just not their books.
AD: The second you leave, I’m going back there to buy it.
ME: No you’re not because you don’t have a car.
AD: I have to get inside to write this conversation down before I forget it all.
ME: You can just ask me. I have a great memory for conversations. I write them all down.
AD: This is hurting my hand. I have to go now.
ME: I thought that was your strong one?
AD: All right.
ME: Thanks for spending the afternoon with me.
AD: Always.
ME: See ya!
AD: Byeeee.
I then rolled up my window and stalled my car. Ad. flipped his head around and I yelled, “What?! Get lost.”
suddenly i was @ 11:24 pm
(no feathers)
thursday, april 6, 2006
Today was ABSOLUTELY AMAZING.And you never would have guessed it, when I opened my eyes in bed and groggily recalled the last thing I remembered doing: holding my cell phone, turning off the alarm.
Where was my phone?
I lurched in bed and saw it on the floor.
Oh Christ. That’s not a good sign.
I reached for it and pulled it up.
8:45.
SHIITE MUSLIM.
I had class in 15 minutes.
In a whirlwind, I tore about getting ready—throwing on clothes, shoes—bursting out into the rain, into my car.
Crap, we have a guest today too!
I thought—thinking of my class.
I pulled into AFI’s all too small parking lot. BASTARD, I said—I have an incredibly diminutive vocabulary when running late—seeing that someone had parked in my favourite parking place. I mean, really. How dare they? The only sin worse is when people sit in my favourite seat in the auditorium.
I zipped up the hallway, wringing the rain water from my hair, skidded into class to see—
A near empty class and no lecturer.
“No matter how late I am,” I said to Australia sitting down, “I’m always here before things start.”
The first class, beyond my conversation with Australia, was interesting, but entirely dry. My teacher had his lawyer come into to talk with us. – Sounds boring, but REALLY. Right up there with “getting and agent” on a person’s Hollywood To Do List, is “get a lawyer.” They help with everything: deals, contracts, getting paid, protecting your work.
Needless to say, I was ALL BUT nodding off the entire class.
At noon the rude-as-all-arse producing teacher scared off our class and I had to dart to Glinda’s development class to discuss our thesis. That class is awesome! All producers and directors and Canada Lad, the pet writer. Our thesis went over INCREDIBLY well. The group came up with AMAZING ideas and her teacher just got everything. It was amazing. Likewise, it always feels so wonderful when people think you have written something special when you have a line which reads: “Now you stick a nail in an orange and call it a battery and you pass science class.”
After we were excused, Canada Lad asked if I would like to do lunch. I said certainly! I had never done lunch with Canada Lad—actually. Lie. I think I did once back A HUNDRED years ago before he even had the nickname Canada Lad. – But never alone and I just love that guy. He took me to a Thai restaurant, which I am so taking other people to; in his words: “It’s upstairs, has wicker furniture and in the evenings Thai Elvis sings there.”
Thai Elvis!
We shared a meal and just had a lovely conversation. I love Canada Lad. Let’s say that again. I LOVE CANADA LAD. He is almost exactly my age (one month, 15 days older) and it seems we’re both so much in the same place. He also graduated and worked for a year—but I mean, he just described exactly how I felt. He had been immersed in the arts and community during his undergrad and then moved back home and got some random job:
CL: I’d be driving home from work and I would just start crying for no reason.
I almost leapt over the table to hug him.
Me too! I said. I would get up out of bed and just wander down stairs and weep.
We finished up lunch, split the bill and made it back to AFI.
For our afternoon class, we watched a newly restored print of “The Kid Brother,” a silent film from 1927 starring Harold Lloyd, whose considered one of the three first comic geniuses, the group also including: Charlie Chaplain and Buster Keaton. The film was AMAZING. It is now on my Amazon Wishlist. I laughed so hard. It was absolutely hilarious—brilliant! It was just released on DVD—up until this year, none of Harold Lloyd’s work have been available, even on VHS. Don’t know who he is? Don’t know why my Wednesday afternoon course is called the Harold Lloyd Master seminar? Don’t worry. I didn’t! I bet you do know him though. I did. For who hasn’t seen this image?
If there’s anyway you can see the film, please, please do. It’s fun top to bottom and is so engaging.
HIGHLIGHT OF LECTURE AFTERWARD
Harold Lloyd’s granddaughter and a film historian came to talk to us and the researcher was… bizarrely enthusiastic. In talking about Lloyd’s career, she discussed how he played different characters—somehow, it came out wrong.
HIST: He’s done so many men.
ME IN MIND: That sounds dirty.
AD: Snrk.
ME: Snrk.
AD: SNRK.
HIST: Each one was a fruit.
AD&I: SNRK!!
HIST: And each, with his own flavor.
By that point, Adventure was red in the face and I was all but biting my hand off to keep from laughing out loud.
Then we had 40 minutes for dinner (CRIES!). I bumped into Glinda walking out.
GLINDA: GUESS WHAT!?
ME: What?
GLINDA: Gill Dennis said he wants to work with me next year!
ME: OH MY GOD!!! I’m so attached to the right people!
Gill Dennis, if you recall is the REAL WRITER of Walk the Line, though James Maneater the director has taken all the credit recently.
That’s SO AMAZING he would say that to her.
A. He is brilliant. I mean, seriously. He is so smart in everything.
B. I secretly take this as a compliment. She has had two very successful films and WHO GAVE HER THOSE WORDS? We work hard together. Her successes are my successes and vica verse. Also, I have learned, if it “isn’t on the page, it isn’t on the stage.” Moments, emotion—all that jazz, I heard it here a MILLION TIMES, over and over and over, come from the script. It’s there on the page. The director is the one who pulls them out, but it starts there on the page. Gill Dennis saying he’s interested in her work is like saying he’s interested in mine.
C. IT’S GILL DENNIS!
By this point Ad. joined us. I do love that boy. I can’t describe to you what my relationship is to him. I tease him unmercifully, sometimes too much I think but I am his cheerleader. I don’t know. It’s almost like having a best friend brother or something.
Now because we all love him so dearly, quote.
AD: I haven’t taken a bath in seven years, but I did the other night and I realized, I am really hairy.
Anyhow, so I am standing there with Ad. and Glinda and Glinda said she wanted to go to the market. I said I would go with her and then we asked Ad. He did his little pause and I said, “he does.” And off we were!
I have NEVER been with both those guys—my two best friends here—at once. It was so bizarre and lovely. I would love if those two became pals. On one end was Glinda, moving about quickly, getting exactly what she wanted and on the other, Ad. sitting, picking his lip counting out how much the sushi cost and when it was going to expire.
I am a Gemini. I like my opposites!
Speaking of signs, Glinda is Fire, Ad. is Water. That’s too funny.
We took our little foodies back to school for our… fourth class of the day. Everyone was eating in a frenzy. 40 minutes to get food (and you have to leave campus if you have none) IS NOT ENOUGH.
Bday was eating with his director, both having Taco Bell.
BDAY: What are you laughing at? The fact we’re seeing an Oscar winning film and we’re out here stuffing our faces with cheap tacos?
The film of course, was Tsoti- a Russian film about World War II—NOT. That’s totally what I thought it was about as I walked into the theatre. No, this was about a small shanty town in Johannesburg, South Africa.
The film was amazing. I nearly wept in the theatre—and despite my mildly mental day yesterday, crying in public is NOT common with me, especially in movies. Absolutely lovely. See it, if just for the acting. This kid was 19 with no formal trying. At 17 he was “discovered” playing King Lear. He is mind blowing. I mean, just earth shatteringly good. The looks he gets in his eyes… it’s haunting, suspenseful—in ways I’m not sure I have ever seen in a movie actor. He had the life of the stage on screen.
The writer/director came to talk with us and he was a delight. He talked SO MUCH. Just on and on and on—but he was fascinating and wonderful. He talked about meeting Nelson Mandela. “Don’t play angels or saints for our humanity lies in our flaws.” And what he said of collaboration? Everything I have ever believed. He was great—and more fun, he has So. Africa’s accent!
ME: OMGz. THERE ARE TWO SO. AFRICAS!
Speaking of which, everyone kept turning their eyes to So. Africa in his little quiet corner. Finally he raised his hand and said, “Hi, listening to you makes me homesick.”
Daw!
Then throughout the rest of the lecture, the director would talk to So. Africa.
DIR: And I was on this TV program there, very pop—you’ve seen it haven’t you.
(So. Africa nods)
DIR: Christ.
The lecture finally wrapped—only on my 13th hour of being on campus. I went out and found So. Africa to tell him, “AWESOMELICIOUS,” because he totally had rapport with an Oscar winner!
We were soon joined by Canada Lass, who was waiting for Ad. who disappeared from behind me. CL peeked in to the auditorium and saw a small crowd had formed around the director. Ad. is always at the forefront of those groups, so there he was—but CL and I starting telling So. Africa to get back in there. The director talked to him through the whole lecture, he of ALL PEOPLE should be in there to talk. When else is he going to have a chance to talk to the Oscar winner of South Africa? —er, the country there. They are from the SAME COUNTRY.
Finally, finally So. Africa went in to talk. The auditorium troupe finally disbanded, Ad. came out, Canada Lass and I shook hands and I waited some more for So. Africa to come out so I could tell him it was cool he went in—
But would you guess what?
He was still in there talking!
Finally he came out too and I yelled, “RAPPORT!” and asked what he said. The director was super nice and the first thing he asked of So. Africa was, “Do you have anything I could see?” So. Africa was so taken back, he just said, “Well, I will have a feature by the end of the year” and the director was all about keeping in touch.
THAT MY FRIENDS IS WHAT WE IN LALALAND CALL A CONNECTION.
How AWESOME is that?
I told So. Africa I would walk him to his car, then he said he would walk me to mine then he gave me a hug and we were off on our way.
I stumbled home, a mere 14 hours after leaving this morning- fell to my computer so I could type up everything before I forgot.
Let’s take a toll two I hung out with 2 Canadians (one French, one English!), a Welshman, a South African, an Australian and a girl from Finland.
God, how lucky am I? What the hell, did I ever do, to get here, to get to know these amazing, amazing people, whose countries I might never even visit in my life? Words cannot express my awe and enjoyment and fascination. I just give thanks, over and over and over to the fate which landed me here. Thank you for letting me get to know these people and I hope they all do so, so, so well so this country doesn’t lose them, for everyone here should be so lucky to know them.
<3
P.S. Did I tell you Ad. and I saw Keira Knightley on a walk in Griffith Park? Haa.
suddenly i was @ 03:18 am
(no feathers)
wednesday, april 5, 2006
Hey guys.I have been so busy writing, writing, writing, my journal has fallen off a cliff. I mean, who needs to hear how I sat around for four days and wrote a bunch of shite that was repetitive in my script?
NOT I SAID THE LARD.
Today was a really hard day. One of those, “why did I even wake up?” days. I think I might be sick. I don’t know. I am beginning to hurt and my nose is running.
I woke up this morning and just felt so ugly. I know, daily, I am not one of the pretty ones, but this morning was hard. I mean, I was all but going mental on myself (I really can’t detail) and was just crying.
I got to class and I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die.
My pages were repetitive—not badly written, just, scenes we’ve seen before. I always do it. Whatever.
The next class was acting class. We were doing the same exercise as last week, except this time I was the director. I have to admit, I was very, very, very cross with Adventure.
A. It was his turn to go and he just randomly dumped the job on me last minute last week.
B. He did not respond to ONE of the 2 dozen emails which went out to the group. I wrote about 6 versions of the script using different lyrics, all the time asking, “Is this good? Please let me know.” Only the other team member ever wrote back, so together we decided.
C. This morning, Ad. did not know his lines and had the gall to say, “Well, if you hadn’t have chosen such a hard song.” I almost blew my lid, “hey. You had a week of emails to respond to. Ones which began, ‘Ad. speak now, or forever hold your piece and you didn’t even read them.’
The scene, however, went well. The start of class didn’t. I felt lower and lower and lower and just wanted to evaporate and die into nothing. My teacher even noticed. He does this thing where he asks everyone how they feel, but he only asks those who look like something is on their mind. I could barely open my mouth. Right, right before class began, I went up to the restroom and I was watching the rain and things out the window and I started to cry again and I don’t even know why. It was about this time my nose started running, I thought it was because I was crying, but I really do think it’s because I might be getting ill.
As I said, the scene went well. It was really funny. Ad. and P. played 6 year olds fighting over a toy, but their dialogue was from “Baby Got Back.” I was just happy to see P say, “Ooh, rump of smooth skin!” and Ad. cry, “Makes me so horny!”
After class, Ad. asked if I wanted to go to some movie he had a free pass for. I didn’t really want to, but then I thought, I was just going to go home, work, cry and probably fall asleep on my floor, so I said, “ok” because I really think I just need a break- because, quite frankly, I am breaking! When I start to cry at school, that’s a red flag folks.
P.S. I have cried more at AFI than at SAIC and highschool combined.
We went to see “Hard Candy” which was about I AM TOO LAZY TO DO A CUT PROCEED WITH CAUTION a man who lured a 14 year old off the internet to meet him in real life, only to discover she’s actually a vigilante out for justice. All I can say is, when I need to unwind, I like sitting back and watching a teen girl perform a castration.
Before the movie began, Ad. and I continued odd little conversations.
ME: Then you can bond with my sister if you like.
AD: Bonk your sister?!
ME: No. I DO NOT give you person to bonk my sister.
AD: How old is your sister?
ME: [AGE].
AD: Oh, she’s old enough.
ME: I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about it. I remember the first time she started talking about those things it was--- aaaaagh.
AD: Do sisters talk about those things?
ME: I guess. Ask her, I’m sure she’ll let you know.
AD: Is it just your sister visiting or your whole family?
ME: Whole family.
AD: Oh, then I couldn’t unless your mom thought it was allowable.
ME: I’m sure she would.
AD: What does your sister think of your love life?
ME: I don’t know… probably thinks it’s sad and lonely like I do.
AD: Does she hook you up with people ever, or, give advice if you ask?
ME: Sure… but I don’t let anyone set me up. It’s even more depressing than being alone. Every once and a while my mom threatens, but she knows I would disown the entire family if she tried.
(insert intermission, Ad. goes to restroom)
ME: 2 questions. I forgot the first. Second, why do you keep asking things about my love life?
AD: What?
ME: My love life. Who I’m attracted to a and these things.
AD: -----
WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW THE ANSWER?
I am still processing all we went through and need to run it by my AIM peeps. The long of the short of it, I think Ad. feels bad I am such a social failure in life.
The movie ended and I took him home. Now I am back and feel… bad. My nose is running everywhere and I hurt. AFI IS LIKE PRESCHOOL if I have an illness. It’s too close for comfort. I haven’t gotten sick in years, suddenly at AFI we’re all sick all the time.
I will keep you updated on that front.
In the meanwhile, yeah. My family is visiting.
suddenly i was @ 01:34 am
(no feathers)
sunday, april 2, 2006
What do you make of a conversation which goes:
AD: Who are you attracted to?
ME: What?
AD: What do you look for in people you want to go out with.
ME: Mmm. Funny- wait, in personality or in appearance?
AD: Everything.
ME: Humor is really important... I want someone I can talk to for ages and makes me laugh. I want a friend more than... other things.
AD: What about height?
ME: Doesn't really matter.
AD: So they can be shorter than you?
ME: Yeah.
AD: What about if they're huge like So. Africa?
ME: Mmm. Depends on the person.
AD: What about the colour of their skin? Are you attracted to one race more than another?
ME: I would date any one of any race.
AD: How about hair length?
ME: Again, doesn't really matter. I mean, I guess pony tails are kind of gross.
AD: But it looks ok on So. Africa.
ME: That's the thing, depends on the person. But I think he's the exception to the rule on that one. 99 percent of people look squicky with pony tails.
AD: Why do pony tails look so bad on men?
(Silence)
ME: So that's about it. Really, I am more attracted to wit than appearance.
AD: So, Jude Law or Will Smith?
ME: Jude Law pre-nanny faux pas. I mean before that instance he was on the list of-- you know. The List.
AD: Interesting.
ME: Hottest people in the universe: Mo Rocca--
AD: Who?
ME: Look him up, you'll laugh. Um... on the other end of the stick Joaquin Phoenix is MMM. Billy Boyd is cute.
AD: Awww!
(LONG silence)
ME: Is there any point to these questions?
AD: No reason!
O rly? Because my mind thinks:
A. Ad. has some plot to set me up with some friend of his.
B. Ad. is playing spy for someone who knows us who asked, "She what type she likes."
C. Some other third thing.
Mildly amused.
suddenly i was @ 09:36 pm
(no feathers)
saturday, april 1, 2006
You know what pisses me off to no end? When people take your laundry out of the machine so they can use it. I am ten minutes past my washer's "time's up" and I go out there and all-- ALL my underwear and bras and clothing are sitting on the dryers. Now, as much as I like all of my sopping wet personals just sitting out on top of public machines what pisses me off even more is I am in the middle of my laundry, but now I will be forced to wait for an indefinite amount of time while the prickish bastard does all their laundry. I have my clothes in the machine so when I return to REMOVE THEM MYSELF I can to finish up my next load. The person wasn't out there this afternoon, they can wait the hour I am now waiting for their turn to be up.I seriously almost stole their laundry basket they left there. I am so, so, so annoyed.
I am going to open my window and watch for who gets their laundry. Was it a woman touching my underwear or a man?
GROSS.
suddenly i was @ 10:11 pm