Oh… guys. I am sorry for my dramatic non-entry last night. I just didn’t have the strength to write anything, but had to write SOMETHING.

In sum: I think all my hints worked… maybe too well?

So. Africa and I were set to go see Da Vinci code. There had been some talk about inviting our other pals and at the last minute we saw Soviet Union and invited him along. I tried to call Glinda, but she was busy.

I left my car at school and we went to a matinee so there was no possible way another awkward late-night driveway incident could occur. Once at the theatre, I paid for the both of us because I said he shouldn’t have paid before. During the film I sat between So. Union and So. Africa.
All was fine.
Then the movie ended. We were all there watching credits, So. Union and I making idle conversation about the music (oh, p.s. Da Vinci code? First draft of a script. Too long, blunt dialogue). So. Africa wasn’t saying anything so So. Union barks over to him, “What you say, So. Africa? Are you a credits man?” So. Africa takes an inhale and says, “No.” and gets up.
We all laughed because it was so sudden but very soon after, it was immediately obvious something was bothering So. Africa. He fumbled and lost his drink and was walking very abruptly out front. It’s easy to tell when So. Africa is bothered. It’s ALL body language, he will never say anything. He also never gets upset. I think he goes out of his way to project a good mood at all times and on the few occasions he’s upset, he just wants to hide it away.
We all stood about and thought about getting coffee and off we went. So. Africa presses forward first again and So. Union and I exchanged a little look. He whispered, “What’s wrong with So. Africa?” and I said I didn’t know but maybe the movie had offended him (this actually was a valid concern of mine, he’s funny about religious things every once and a while but doesn’t seem religious at all).
We all walked down the block. So. Africa wasn’t talking and I didn’t know what to and BLESS HIS HEART So. Union, NEVAR shuts up. We hit the corner to cross for the coffee shop and again you could tell something was bothering So. Africa.

SO. UN.: You want to go here?
SO. AF: Can we get something with alcohol?
SO. UN. and I: Sure!

So. Africa presses off. We went to a place called the “Cat and Fiddle” on Sunset. So. Union and So. Africa got their drinks and we just talked. Mostly So. Union about what he is going to do about taking a leave of absence. So. Africa got up at one point and So. Union turned to me and said:

SO UN: What’s going on here?
ME: I don’t know. Is he religious?
SO UN: So. Africa? No, no. I don’t think so.
ME: I thought maybe he was and he was offended by the movie.
SO UN: You don’t think he’s angry at me, like I ruined you plans?
ME: No, not at all.
SO UN: I mean, you guys aren’t dating?
ME: No! He asked if we should find you at school.
SO UN: Oh, ok. So you really don’t know?
ME: No!

So. Africa came back and Soviet Union asked him right out, “What’s wrong? We’ve noticed you seem upset.” And So. Africa kept saying, “It’s nothing, nothing at all. Upset? I don’t get upset!”
We squatted for a bit, even after their tab was closed. I was trying to be polite, but I was starving, so finally I had to ask if we could go home or move to a restaurant. There was some decision making and we ended up going to a sushi place.

Who remembers that one time Ad. took me to dinner and gave me my embarrassing pep talk?

Hands?

Bueller?

Same place. Took me forever to figure out.

On the way there, So. Africa was still bothered. At this point Soviet Union was teasing him about being sarcastic in every reply he gave.

SO UN: Now I know I can tell when you’re upset, everything you say is sarcastic!
SO AF: Really?
SO UN: See!

At the table, I think I was just really too awkward to say anything and my stomach was so empty I had heart burn. Soviet Union was charmingly embarrassing as he said he wasn’t hungry but ended up ordering SO MUCH FOOD. This massive plate of sushi, dumplings, oysters.

SO AF: Should we split the bill now?

After dinner was finally done, we finally parted ways and So. Africa and I started back to his car. I would ask, “What’s wrong?” and he would answer over and over, “Nothing, I’ll tell you someday.”

Make sure you read this lightly, it wasn’t dramatic. I up my 2 year oldness in these matters, so my voice is quite high and I fiddle with my fingers. Every time I would say, “You are lying!” So. Africa would laugh despite himself.

ME: Are you ok?
SO AF: … Yes.
ME: You are lying!
SO AF: I’m not, I’m fine.
ME: Are you sure?
SO AF: Yes.
ME: You’re not.
SO AF: I’m fine. I’ll tell you someday what happened.
ME: Ok, but don’t worry about it.
SO AF: I’m not, I’m just.
ME: The movie didn’t offend you did it?
SO AF: Oh, no, no. Not at all. It was just sometimes you expect something to be one way and it’s not. That’s all I realized during the film.
ME: You’re being a mystery.
SO AF: I’m not a mystery!
ME: Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.
SO AF: … We’ll see. I’m fine.
ME: You are lying. You don’t have to tell me, but I promise it will be ok. Ok?
SO AF: Ok.
ME: I promise. It will be fine.

So. Africa took me to my car at school and I couldn’t just leave him, he looked so sad so I kept trying to get it out of him while we just talked about random things.

Nothing would come out.

Finally, they were about to shut down campus and I told So. Africa I would give him happy movies, so he could come and park in my driveway and I would give him happy things so he could feel better.

He came and parked in my driveway and we stood about and whispered very quiet like before because we don’t want to wake up anyone. The conversation covered all things. Our families, what we thought of things, all this. He gave me his script which I promised to read.

Apropos of NOTHING, here is a great story which will make you know why people should love So. Africa with all of their whole hearts.

So. Africa said his grandfather owned three homes in Cape Town which his family was brought up in, So. Africa’s father was raised there. Later, the homes would be passed down to So. Africa’s father and uncles, but the apartheid regime came to be and the houses were seized and given over to white people. Somehow, So. Africa’s grandfather was able to keep one deed to one house. After Nelson Mandela came and changed everything, using the deed So. Africa was able to somehow buy back the home. After it was made his, he took his grandfather there and took him on a tour of the old rooms and his grandfather cried with joy.

Isn’t that the most amazing story you’ve ever heard? So. Africa didn’t want to even tell me because he thought it was boring. I don’t know anyone who has done anything more amazing though, I was quite moved and I think so was So. Africa tell the story.

He kept making other comments. “You are younger than my little brother!” and “I asked you out right at the beginning, what was I thinking?”

I remember that time. It was in October, right at the beginning. We had just met. I had just come out from class, I remember wondering if that was an ask-out, but I thought I was crazy,

He even mentioned a Christmas card I gave him. “That was the card. I still have that card.”

The rest of the conversation, every time there was a moment I would ask again if he was all right. He still said he couldn’t tell me, but may some day.

Some quotes from him:

“You know ‘Adaptation’? I just have to start living my life like that. Stop dreaming and just face reality. That scene with the waitress? That’s my life over and over. I just have to stop, just eat the pie and leave it there.”

Adaptation, for those who haven’t seen, is about a 30-something loser who can’t write his script. The waitress scene, the writer likes this waitress and tries to ask her to a flower show and she is horrified and turns him down.

“It just all hit me in the middle of the movie. I didn’t expect it. All year there was nothing like this and it surprised me, now I just have to sort things out.”

“I thought something was gone, but maybe it isn’t. I don’t know.”

SO AF: I’ll tell you someday. When I do you will think I am a complete idiot.
ME: No, never.
SO AF: You will after I tell you.
ME: I promise, never ever. Never. I promise. Don’t worry.
SO AF: You don’t even know why I am worried!
ME: Don’t worry.

He looked so sad, guys. My heart was breaking into a million pieces and I didn’t know how to make anything better. If you know So. Africa too, oh, you would see how this is so awful.

I asked if he wanted me to get happy movies and in the saddest most polite voice he said, “yes, please.”

I ran as fast as I could and got all my movies so he could take anything he wanted and ran all the way back with everything in my hands. He looked through the folders and I asked if he wanted anything else, I could give him ice cream or cheese cake, but he said no. I told him I promised to send an email with a kitten when I went inside.

He took his couple of films and I gave him a hug. He looked so sad before I got through my gate I gave him two more hugs and told him to stop worrying.

I ran inside and made sure I sent an email telling him to not worry and I send him some link full of baby animals. I was just up at this point and I couldn’t stop thinking if he was all right and he sent me an email telling me to not worry. I wrote back and said I couldn’t stop worrying now unless I saw him and knew he was all right. He wrote back one last time, this is embarrassing to share our emails, but whatever and just said, “sometimes you just wish you were an entirely different person, that’s what happened tonight.” I wrote back and told him he should never think that and he only deserves to be happy.
This morning when I woke up from my fully clothed stupor of where I died on the couch, I had one last email from So. Africa saying, he couldn’t believe he wrote the last thing to me I didn’t need to hear those kind of things from him. I only deserved to be happy and it depressed him that he had ever made me worry.

That is where my story ends now. I don’t have that sinking pit of wariness I had before. On the contrary, deep, deep inside I know everything will be fine. I don’t know exactly what will happen, but I think it will be good. Still, my heart just hurt so much. Maybe I am wrong about what I think So. Africa was thinking, but either way, I don’t want people to hurt and would do anything to make things all right. He said maybe he will tell me next time we meet up and I hope he does because then if it IS what I think, and maybe it’s not, maybe I am totally self-involved or something, but if it is I can still tell him I think he the most wonderful kind person in the entire universe anyhow and I am just dumb and get scared because no one has ever taken even the smallest, remotest interest in me in this manner-- ever.

suddenly i was @ 05:31 pm
(no feathers)

monday, may 29, 2006

This week has been mad!

I guess I better address the first point of interest: my accidental date. Should I FLock this?

It was with So. Africa. It was such a surprise! We plotted to see this film and I just adore him so much, so I was pretty: WEE! About the matter and the fact it was supposed to be a date never crossed my mind.

ME AT HOME: WEEEE.
ME ON THE WAY TO THE THEATRE: WEEEE.
ME AT THEATRE: WEEEE.
ME WHEN HE PAID: WE—Wait. What?

There was just a different vibe to the air. The fact he opened doors, offered me his jacket on the walk over, parking nearby so I wouldn’t have to walk… I didn’t know what to do!

As I was standing in line, panicking, the School Gossip suddenly appears out of nowhere. I love her, but she is THE biggest busybody and a producer- the worst combination. She comes up and starts talking: “So, did you guys just come from your house So. Africa?”

ME: NO.

Why not just ask if we had mad weasel loving in the hall way before the previews next time. Sheesh. She was asking such prodding questions, it drove me nuts. I am just waiting for the call asking if we’re an item to come.

The movie, btw, was Brick. I really recommend it! It’s Dashiell Hammett meets teenage angst. Such fun. A classic detective noir set in a highschool. The language had such musicality to it. Some of the lines, I didn’t know what they meant, there was this one: “A nit on the ear of horse, sucking out the blood.”

Wtf!

But I loved it! I think so of the best parts were after an hour or more of being sucked into this mystery drama, you totally forgot you were watching highschool kids. Then, out of nowhere, they would leave the dark shadow-shafted basement to the kitchen upstairs where someone’s mom would serve orange juice.

The film appreciated in my mind after leaving the theatre.

Anyhow, we left the theatre and Gossip invited us for drinks, but there was NO WAY in hell I was going to be taken in by that lure.

We paid our parking, I forced the issue of me paying. I was trying to balance out the universe. We ended up deciding to go for coffee. This was probably a mistake on my part if I didn’t want it to seem date-ish, but I couldn’t help it. I do like talking with him all the time and it sounded like such fun. Whatever.
We ended up at this pie place which is open all hours and again, probably bad, but we closed out the restaurant. Seriously, it was 3 AM. Again, he paid, but I put 5 dollars into his hand so it was somewhat fair.
(I am hiding my face, you guys are probably so cross with my stupidity and naïveté).
The whole conversation there, how was I so clueless? I would stumble over words and get so embarrassed and So. Africa would just say, “oh don’t, it’s cute.”
Then suddenly I was taken home and this is when the PANIC set in. What was I to do?
Luckily, thank god, So. Africa is the kindest most gentlest person in the whole, whole world and didn’t do anything. We just talked. I twittered like a moron very quickly and then we sat by the car and watched because 4 coyotes came out. They sat down, up the sidewalk and looked at us as well.
There were clouds coming in and I was scared because I thought lightening would come, so I kept saying, “It’s so scary!” – but I was scared of many things when I said that you know! And So. Africa would said, “You’re so anxious! Don’t worry, it’s not lightening.”
Finally, I swear to god, it was all but pushing 5 AM and I finally said I had to go. My angst was at a fever pitch, because So. Africa is a hugger. He always, always gives hugs, but now in this rather awkward place, a hug, well it’s DIFFERENT, isn’t it? But I couldn’t not give one, how would that be? So I gave him my normal hug—jesus, I feel like I am 13 giving this report, HI GUYS. NOW YOU KNOW WHAT A LOSER I AM.
But it seemed to linger just moment longer and was, I don’t know. The vibes, those infamous vibes, it was just softer than normal and then his hand touched my hair!
My face is just about to explode even remembering this.
It was just a hug though and that was it, so I went away and I was talking so fast saying, “thank you, let me pay next time!” and he said, “oh we’ll see about that” and seeing me to the gate: “I can’t believe I’m leaving, I have to fit in You time before I leave” (“you” there, being my name) and I literally, I bet you are all crying laughing from this, if you have even got this far, but I ran away! Skittered would be a better word. I just ran to my door! – to the indoors where I would spend the rest of the night in a STATE trying to figure out what the HELL had just happened.
The next day, I went on a crusade to show we were just “FRIENDS OMG.” See, before I knew we were on an accidental date we had made plans to see all of these movies… but now I was too scared! So I tried to invite others, they declined, but that doesn’t matter because then I told So. Africa I invited them (So. Union only actually) but they said no, just to show FRIENDS see movies. FRIENDS like us. Then I tried to mention every other male friend I have ever had at AFI:

ME: So, I was helping Ad. pack, when So. Union called and you know I am going to go on a hike with Shades tomorrow right? I like FRIENDS.

Now, this is where it is REALLY messed up. I wanted desperately for my hints to work and now that they have, I am afraid of what I have done.

We always exchange emails right? My entire first page of my inbox is from him, but now he hasn’t responded like he normally does and I am heartbroken! I mean, I talked to him on the phone today, but STILL. I can’t figure out what my problem is. I think I have a huge personality crush on him, but nothing else—but I am so afraid he will think my “FRIEND hints” were mean! Or, that they translate into me not wanting to talk to him like we normally do, which they don’t at all! They just mean, I have never EVER EVER EVER in my life received a letter which thanked me for an evening and told me “you looked incredibly hot! Miss.” – especially from a friend (!!!) and I was panicked. Oh, I am in such a state.
What should I do? We still have a movie to see tomorrow and I wrote an email saying it was my turn to pay and we should see a Matinee (the latter was purely economical, I just don’t want to pay full price for DaVinci Code) but, oh was that too harsh?

JESUS CHRIST. This entry is SO 13 year old and embarrassing. I hope it has been a fun read at least.

I have discovered, what is going on. So. Africa, maybe I wrote about this earlier, but it was reiterated many times I guess everyone thought I was going out with Adventure all this while (though, hi, he only talks about his GF all the time, she’s visited and he and I together couldn’t be LESS couple-ish) so I was “off limits.” So. Africa called it “Adventure Interference” and then said everyone figured if it wasn’t Ad. I obviously had a boyfriend back home.
WHAT THE HELL?
I don’t have a LIFE let alone anyone else in the world in that regard. I am the biggest lonely heart, I am president of the AFI club.
A few weeks ago I landblasted these rumors:

ME: What? NO. I have no one.

And it’s been weird ever since! With more than one person too. I have had weird vibes with Soviet Union as well! What is going on!? I will get to the So. Union jazz later, but continuing:

Glinda says this is an AFI male disease. There are SO few females here and even less who are available. Seriously? I think there may be 4 or 5 of us or something. She says a bunch seem to be on this desperate quest, “summer is here, it’s now or never” and she told two stories about her two close, close guy friends here who went accidental date on her (for the record, she had the same response I did: FAH-REEK). On the other hand, she said at the last party I went to, “I thought you guys totally had something going on,” referring to So. Africa.
How is that possible? I was just talking!
This is my other great fear. Am I tease? I don’t even know how to flirt, but am I sending out something? Shrugs? SO clueless. I just don’t want to upset people or seem mean because I don’t have a clue what I do when I talk.
I can’t believe any of this is even coming out of my mouth…

Anyhow. THAT is my trauma. Now I have no idea what to do, I am so sad no email reply has come, I was going to call at 7 and say, “so…” for our movie tomorrow, but now it’s past and I just don’t know… I guess I will give to 8 or so.

I am trying to play the hopelessly naïve card…

MOVING ON:

Here are some other great amazing things.

Before the accidental date crisis of ’06, last Thursday my workshop teacher threw a dinner party for our group. It was SO lovely. I rode down to Santa Monica with Ad. and So. Africa. It was so funny on the road because, well, you guys remember our Glendale shenanigans. Between the African, Welshman and American we can’t make hides or tails of Southern California. So. Africa positively had humorous road rage.

This car is moving in the lane SO slow, because the driver is obviously looking at the fancy cars on sale.

SO. AF: Out of my way. Stop shopping, you’ll never afford it.

Which was very funny because he never shows any sort of negative emotion—at all. He is always perfectly polite and can’t even say bathroom when excusing himself to the restroom without getting embarrassed. He also get talking back to his GPS.

SO AF.: Enough woman. This is just like my old girlfriend, always telling me what to do.

Ad. and I, however, were absurdly giggly and played the Soccer Mom game. In this game, whenever the car stops you go “soccer mom” on whoever is next to you—sticking out your arm protecting them from the windshield or, in Ad.’s case from the back seat grabbing me by the shoulders and holding me to my seat.

SO AF.: You guys are like two eggs in a basket! You should try driving in Africa.

Once in Santa Monica it was very nice. Before we had got there (god, in hindsight all of this is so obvious) but So. Africa and I had gone shopping and bought the most BOSS bouquet of giant tulips for our teacher. We were the last to arrive (apropos being “The Remedials” [what I call our end of the table because our scripts were finished last]).

The whole lot of us walked down to the beach, where P. and I. informed me—GUYS. Are you ready for this? Our teacher had told them, she wasn’t sure if he was kicked out or if he was just reprimanded, but Porn Guy was called into the big offices for SEXUAL HARASSMENT. Apparently independent of each other, every AFI writer female went into the admin. Office, like I had, and requested to not be put into his class.

TRY THAT ON FOR SIZE.

The system works!

P. and I had much bonding over this.

When we reached the bit, Ad. and I wanted to see the water, so we walked all the way down to the tide. We were happy looking at the water when this FREAK TSUNAMI FROM HELL burst from the surf and ate us completely! Suddenly my whole dinner party wear was underwater!
Our whole workshop was laughing and we were dripping wet. I had SAND in INAPPROPRIATE PLACES.

Dinner, though damp, was nice. I love those guys with all my whole heart and can’t image a group without them or table where I am not between I. and So. Africa and across from Adventure.

What else has been up?

Ah, updates on Adventure. My little peanut. He’s gone home to Wales now. Obviously he got better. The dinner was the day after his emotional pit-fall and I swear to god he reads this LJ or something, because in the days which followed his angst, he was always giving me things. Money, bought me food and kept saying he owed me. It was nuts. I know he is such a Taker and he makes me so upset on a regular basis, but I just have such a soft spot for him. He seriously IS like a brother. Drives me mad, we argue but NO ONE else can make fun of him and at the end of the day he’s still my pal. It’s weird, I can’t help it.
Yesterday I helped him ALL DAY move. I had no idea how far behind he was… he’s not staying in his same apt. on Zombie alley for next year, but his new apt. is still occupied, so he moved everything into storage because over the summer he will be in Wales and then Toronto. His flight to London was at 6 AM. His shuttle for the air port was coming at 3 AM.
I helped him the day before yesterday, but yeah. Yesterday. All day. We scrambled to get his things into storage before the place shut down at 7 PM. We crammed more things into boxes and his new roommate came to pick them up (though I could tell she was PISSED, “What would you have done if I wasn’t here to get these?”)
You learn a lot about people cleaning out their apartments. All barriers are lost.

ME: Where do you want these sockies?

AD: Will you punch my back? It hurts.

ME: Are these ones dirty?

AD: Do you want these pictures?

ME: Do you want these razors?

ME: What about this closet? This drawer?

AD: My body is dying.

ME: Hey, did I write this?

In case anyone ever wanted to know. I think Ad. has a mild case of hording. It was like cleaning out my grandma’s house. After I found the fifth collection of bottle caps underneath the sink (saved because in Maine he could get 5 cents) I almost lost it.

ME: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

I just walked around with trash bags (and OH. There were many) saying, “Toss? Toss? Toss?” bringing him items in boxes because he was caught up in the other room with things.

There were drawers of receipts, empty serial boxes, grocery bags, bottles, caps, lids, muffin containers… FRIENDS. It was disturbing. I threw it all out with a vengeance. I am NOT bragging at all when I say he wouldn’t have finished his apt. had I not been there. It was a nightmare, but I did everything I could. I took apart his fridge and washed it down in his shower, chucked out food. Mopped. Wiped. All night. It was at least 2 AM when I left.

We walked out to my car for the last time, emo!, he shuffled along and kept asking:

AD: When is your birthday?
ME: June 16th.
AD: What do you want?
ME: I don’t know. I need to see my Amazon Wishlist.
AD: Just send me the whole thing. I owe you the whole thing.

We shoved more stuff into my car, which I have to take to his storage some time.

He became even more dismayed when he saw I had a gift for him, one of the fake inflatable E.T.’s from earlier this year and I also gave him a card which said, “PEANUT” across the envelope, because that is what I call him.

Then we gave each other a good hug. I was about to cry even though I was slightly cursing his name for being so truant on his packing. I kept saying, “you’re my pal” and he would say, “thanks for everything” then I piled into my car and drove off into the night.

This would be a fine place to end the tale, but I did call him again at 3 AM, because he was going to try and sleep and I wanted to make sure he was up for his shuttle ride.

But that’s it! Now he’s off to Wales (he might be in London by now) and later to Toronto to visit teh GF. I think I am going to miss him very much, I suddenly realized I have to go shopping and there’s no one to go with, how sad is that?

UP TO DATE TRAUMA: Wtfork. No email from So. Africa, should I just call?

What else?

Oh god. Today was AMAZING.

Actually, I have updated so much here, I think I need a break and have to start working. I WILL LEAVE YOU IN SUSPENSE.

Here’s a hint: hike.

In a bit!

suddenly i was @ 10:17 pm
(no feathers)

thursday, may 25, 2006

What a day.

I don’t even think I have the strength to talk about it.

Today was the “get-your-invite-back” day at AFI. For those who don’t know, after the first year you can’t automatically continue through to your second year. You have to be invited back. For added kicks, all day the front office was open and you had to walk in and initial saying you received your invitation.
So you can imagine the fun atmosphere.
Everyone I was worried about was invited back. I only know of two people who weren’t: some crazy director. Literally, mad. Slightly addlepated. No one AT ALL thought he was returning. Then one young director, who no one quite understands what he did wrong. He must have annoyed some AFI god because he was warned half-way through the year as well. It’s weird, his films were decent. Not the best, but certainly not the worst. I never heard anyone complain about him being hard to work with… yeah. Just odd.

The two people I was most worried about were Soviet Union, whom I love with all my whole heart but who really is a chore. I didn’t like him the first couple of times I met him, but once you got to know him you could see how great he really is. Very strong-willed though, very demanding. He’s had a warning flag waving at him all year. The second person was Adventure. I love him, but he’s been troubled all year. Had an ENORMOUSLY difficult time getting his feature off the ground and when he finally did, it had its own set of flaws and he’s had a hard time in groups as well (he’s not easy to work with as a principle team member, as you may recall—cough. Acting class). Both were asked back.

THANK GOD.

So. Union was clear sailing (up until later in the day, I will detail that fall out when I get the low down). Ad. however had a sort of “yellow light” notice. Basically, it said, “come back but we have a few serious concerns. Schedule a meeting with so-and-so.”
To me, this was great news! He’s coming back! I guarantee—GUARANTEE their concerns are what he and everyone else knows: he had a bumpy first year. They are going to talk to him about beefing up his writing production or something. He knows he has to do this all ready!

Ad. however, took this as a blow. You would have guessed not only was he kicked out from school but that every single person he has ever, ever loved was brutally murdered. He went silent, looked on the verge of tears. Wouldn’t come near anyone. Wouldn’t talk.

To the point, Writing Partner, who is Ad.’s best pal, had to come up to me and ask, “Wait. What did his letter say?”

I told him, “Nothing. He’s coming back, but has to talk to the head of the writing department.”

Writing Partner’s response?

WP: That’s nothing!

All day, we had presentations today (someday let me tell you about Shades’), I would take Ad.’s shoulder and I kept telling him, “You’ll be fine,” “You’re coming back,” “It’s ok.”
I told him I promised things would be fine. I have a gut feeling for these things. They had a panel board to kick people out. He wasn’t. That means some people fought for him. All day I did this. I asked if he needed anything, would pat his back, rub his shoulder.

Finally we broke for lunch. I waited for Ad. for ages, but he vanished. Soviet Union and Shades called me over, invited me to lunch. I called Ad. thrice, but to no avail and so left on a quick jaunt with the boys. I want to tell of the fun stuff today, but I think I am to angstful. Basically it was a cute lunch and I had a weird, cute moment which I think needs HEAVY ANALYSIS. Maybe I will call my old Chicago pal. I need like “OMG I’M 13!!!11!” analysis.

Later!

After lunch, we had a screening of “Giant” with James Dean. Good flick. I had fun because I was sitting by Glinda and she had ice cream. We shared the ice cream and giggled through 60 percent of the film making lewd comments every time James “Hotdiggetydamn” Dean came on the screen.
I was also sitting next to Ad. who fell asleep. I thought, “good.” Because he needed to rest.

After the film, I stood about talking with So. Africa and Shades. Ad. moped out and I continued my routine. He said he was going to try to schedule his meeting. I told him I would wait and give him a ride home.

My conversation continued… Ad. dragged himself back and stood far away looking out the window depressively. I kept swinging my phone at him, trying to get him to come over. I didn’t end my conversation right away because quite frankly, I didn’t want to give up the light talk for whatever the hell the talk was going to be in the car ride home.

-- I WORKED THROUGH THE NIGHT AND FELL ASLEEP, HI TOMORROW! --

Eventually we left. The car ride was silent. Me “doot doot doot”-ing trying to lighten the heavy air. Then I would say a few more “you’re fine” before Ad. finally bursts: STOP SAYING THAT.
I took a mental step back then try to change the subject. I ask him about our workshop’s party. I am getting a ride with So. Af. and I have a rule I don’t ask for rides for Ad. He is a GREAT BIG GROWN UP BOY and can ask for himself, but in this case I would make an exception. So I asked if he wanted me to tell So. Af., ask him for a ride. Ad. just muttered he didn’t want to go.

ME: Why don’t you want to go?
AD: I’m just going to bring the rest of you down.
ME: Why on Earth do you think you’re going to be bring the rest of us down?
AD: I’m just going to be like this tomorrow.

Then I kind of lost it. I didn’t yell or anything, but my voice was definitely raised:

ME: THEN DON’T BE LIKE THIS. You are coming back, they have concerns, you know what they are. What is the worst they can say to you? You are incapable of making film? You are not ready for film school? I’ve been told that to my face and I just kept going. You know it’s not true so who cares? So stop it. You have nothing to worry about.

There was profound silence and I backpeddled a bit and said: “I’m sorry about that, but come on.”

I let him go in his alley. He got out barely able to say thanks. I sat a moment then I got out and I gave him a hug. It was like hugging a rock. No response, no moment. He wouldn’t look up. I asked if he needed dinner or if he would like me to take him to a movie. He, we’re talking barely above a whisper, says, “no thank you” then he leaves.

I got back into my car and for reasons I don’t understand, burst into tears. This is evil, but it wasn’t wholly because I felt bad for Ad. Truth be told, I was kind of over feeling bad for him. I don’t know what it was, but I cried and cried.

I don’t like saying this about people I like, in fact, I’ve never said it about anyone before—but I seriously don’t think Ad. has what it takes to make it in this kind of business. I don’t know what happened to that wonderfully confident person I met at the beginning of the year- but this mess I saw yesterday. It hurt my feeling, made me feel bad and made me angry all at once. What happens to someone like this when an exec tells them the script they’ve slaved over, is shite and dumps it in the trash? Hmm? This is a business of rejection. 99 percent of it is rejection. You have to have nerves of steel to get through it. You can get upset, sure, but yesterday was unacceptable, because unless he is lying about what was in his letter, it was a level of depression and self-pity which was not justified. If he was being let go, this would be appropriate and then I would have stayed by and never questioned, but for a talk about concerns when you are coming back?
No.
I don’t want to say this either, I love him, he was my first friend here, but I think he has to consider what he is doing. If this is how sensitive he is, when something really bad happens, it will kill him.
Then as part of my selfish agenda: I can’t keep up this level of emotional involvement. This is hard friendship, always giving, giving, giving—which I don’t mind AT ALL, but I need, I don’t know. Something coming back. Yesterday it was like being with a rock and not in a normal way, when someone is quiet, but they are listening. I didn’t even feel like he cared I was there. I was thinking in me head: you know what, I am the only one who has stayed on and checked after you all day. Writing Partner and Canada Lass, your two other best pals left. They didn’t even wait to give you a ride home or anything. I am a good friend, but I am getting weary.
I feel like a HORRID person for saying all of this. Just awful. I do love my friend, I do—it’s just so hard at the same time. I feel completely drained all the time and it’s got to the point, he’s almost not fun to be with anymore, the good moments don’t even out weigh the bad, which almost breaks my heart.

I am not going to call him today to work out party business. I just emailed him and told him I didn’t ask for a ride for him, because he didn’t want me to and said I will miss him if he doesn’t come, but if he doesn’t I said, “PROMISE to go out anyhow.” It’s Writing Partner’s bday today and he is having a get-together. Again, truth, I will miss him at the party—but only if he is normal Ad. If he is the depressive creature of yesterday, I don’t want to have to be around him. It’s too hard and not justified.

Then, just to add to the fun—my other worry-friend, So. Union was dealt the NASTIEST blow by the administration.
Soviet Union is headstrong. He is also an auteur. This is like, the worst combination ever. If given complete control, he is brilliant. Seriously. Everyone knows it.

But AFI isn’t going to give him that control.

He finally consented to taking a script. His old team formed around him again. They all wanted to do his original red-lit script. So. Union had been given some encouragement he could rework the story into anything he wanted. The writer of the script even said, “my blessings, I don’t care what you do.” This had everyone a bit nervous. So. Union was all about putting on a farce, pretending to like this idea, but then he was going to change it and present his original idea all over again.
I kind of felt: erk. And kept saying, “have a contingency plan to work within his story.”
Then yesterday, this is MADNESS.
AFI called his bluff. The took away his DP (cinematographer), she wasn’t allowed to work with him then they called the writer and said he was banned from handing over his script.
Basically they are saying, “our way or the highway” and are being vindictive, breaking up his good time and denying him his script.
So. Union is a good poker player, but his bluff has been called. He can continue to try and fight it, or he can fold. By fold meaning: play their game or pack his bags.
Either is depressing.
Meanwhile, So. Union stands as a one person resistance. Last night, whether or not he is still doing it, I don’t know, but he wanted to know what would happen if he refused to team.
God, they have him between a rock and a hard, hard place. I don’t want to lose So. Union at this school. It will be less without forces such as his, but I’m sitting here on one end trying to pull Ad. up from impaling himself on his spear while at the same time yelling, “FALL ON YOUR SWORD SO. UNION!”
Normally I would not condone So. Union’s behavior. I didn’t earlier this week even, but recent events during the second thesis submission process has caused me to lose a great deal of respect for this institution. We are a tight class. People care about each other. AFI has never really had a group like this. Usually it’s very competitive and nasty. I don’t think they know how to work with people who trust each other. The Admin. is screwing everyone over.
Most recently though, remember that amazing film about WWI I told you about? The cycle film with the trench?
Well. That director submitted a script the first time around, it was red lit. After his screening and amazing cycle?
Suddenly, that first submission turns up in the second batch: green lit.
Then there was another group: they had a Mallickesque western, beautiful, very well received. The dean came to them and said, “form your same time, write a similar story” and guess what, they did. And guess what? Their story was greenlit.
Talk about talking out two sides of your mouth.
I get so angry about this. I DO NOT begrudge these other teams AT ALL. They deserve to do their work, all the way, but the school is so blind. These guys are VERY gifted in a certain, traditional cinematic way. Very Spielberg. People like London Lass or So. Union or this other guy, are very talented as well, but in much more unique different ways. It’s more difficult to see how they will succeed, but they are much more fragile because they are different. Those other guys will never have a problem getting their stuff out there. They might even get it out there, it will be well received and then fade off. If AFI gave an OUNCE of trust to these other artists however, instead of trying to squash them into the system, they could come out with a film or two which are really and truly DIFFERENT and special.
I’m not saying these other guys are totally brilliant, I’m just saying, if you are going to favor these other directors over here because you see them being “successful” then give these guys a chance over here too. Give the director who is fighting tooth and nail to do his idea (which a whole team stands behind, by the way, including my producer) a leap-of-faith chance, because, is that what this business is supposed to be about?
I was very, very upset hearing about this. I want So. Union to win his battle, or at least some part of it. Just on principle. Oh, and AFI’s administration can bite me.

So basically, yesterday I was very upset over these things. I got a bit better though, because I called up So. Africa to talk. I couldn’t get a hold of Glinda to pour out my whole heart to, but So. Africa is a good talk because A. he’s older and doesn’t get riled up, um, ever and B. he talks about kittens with me.
My producer ended up coming over and I put together a graphic book for our thesis. I was up all night… until past 4 AM at least, then for whatever reason I woke up at 7 AM. I am very hungry and sleepy now. I think I might go nap.

That is my huge update. Thoughts?

suddenly i was @ 12:23 pm
(no feathers)

tuesday, may 23, 2006

TODAY WAS AWESOME!!

I don’t really think the sheer AWESOMENESS of today will translate into lj-text. I don’t have the skill and- or maybe people wouldn’t think it was as fun as I did, but oh! It was!

Today we had these oral presentations. I practiced mine all weekend, performing to my couch and the giant frame Marilyn Monroe photo on the wall. I am completely lame—

I am sorry. Just now I was spinning and running and sliding and jumping and pretend dancing!

I am in a very, very good mood.

What was I saying?

- Oh, yes! My presentation. All weekend I practiced. I even practiced the jokes and would gesture up to pretend audience members and would ask questions and wait for responses- the whole nine yards.

My presentation was on Billy Wilder and Sunset Boulevard—or more specifically, the way S-M-R-T title of: “Existentialism and the Anti-Hero in Sunset Boulevard.”

I got up there and I didn’t stand dead center because there were too many lights. Instead I stood a little to the side, where it was darker and did my utmost to not pace, which is what I like to do. I rocked a little, but definitely didn’t pace. It went well, I didn’t forget anything and it was AMAZING when people laughed at the appropriate jokes and even better when they laughed at things I didn’t expect—for example, I started rounding off facts about the ACTUAL Sunset BVLD. And people were in stitches.

ME: Sunset Boulevard winds through West Los Angeles. It starts at Figueroa street and ends at the PCH in the Pacific Palisades and is approximately 22 miles long.
(HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER)

Then there were also these great unplanned moments. About 10 minutes or so into my talk, this one writer comes late into class. I stopped and said:

ME: Oh, great, NAME.

That was his name, not the phrase NAME.

ME: Everyone can look at him while he shuffles to his seat.

I look at my notes then look back up.

ME: I’m sorry guys, I have to start over.

(HUGE laugh).

I wrapped it up and everyone seemed to have liked it. Ad. said I engaged my audience from the get go and that’s what did it. Everyone kept poking me and saying, “You’re like a stand up,” “You should have a show” and “Way to raise the bar—“

I can’t believe it’s 10 PM… it feels like 3 PM.

Then afterward, I walked out and sat with So. Africa because I was lending him a bunch of films. Neither one of us wanted to go home so we sat on the stairs for ages and ages just talking and talking. It was quite nice. We talked about all sorts of things. I got the most exaggo compliment ever:

SOAF: No, your photo was good! It was like Charlie’s Angels.
ME: ARE YOU KIDDING?

This about my 1 inch by 1 inch horrific student book photo wherein I look overweight and toothless. No joke.

Throughout the conversation, Ad. would call because he was looking for a ride. I kept telling him, “Well, if I am still on campus, call and I can give you a ride.”

FLASH FORWARD OVER 2 HOURS LATER

Ad. called and said he was coming up top. Then as, he rounded the corner, I squealed with delight because Ad. came ‘round and said, “Look who I found!” and had BOTH So. Union and Shades in tow.

Guys, you have never met two funnier people. So. Union is the most sarcastic, sardonic, ironic person ever whereas Shades is very goofy and quick witted. They are just BRILLIANT.

Shades stepped up and the first thing out of his mouth was, “Let’s go eat!”

I was so excited. I walked up to Ad. and said, “Coming, coming, yes, yes, yes?” and you know what? He said yes! He NEVER comes on these things.
So. Africa and I ran off to our cars and abandoned our bags, So. Union kept saying, “So. Africa, ME, I need your advice” and “Oh—I’ve got some DELICIOUS gossip.: We all piled into Shades’ car and took off to a Thai place which is famous for hosting Thai Elvis.

Shades’ driving, btw, beats I’s. He was on his phone and then would do things like wait until the last moment, then dart out in front of cars, one time he looked into the back seat and the car drifted.

ALL OF US: EYES ON THE ROAD!
SHADES: Oh, whoops!

We survived though and left the car with the Valet and got into the restaurant. I knew, coming in things would be good, because So. Africa tapped So. Union on the shoulder to show him little dogs in a car. So. Union likes dogs how I like kittens.

SO UN: AW!

I had so much fun at that table guys. We were there for ages. We all ordered food and we all shared.

Everyone got lemonade but Shades.

ME: So, everyone only the driver is going to have a beer…

Shades would lean over and serve food onto my plate. So. Union was on a tirade complaining about thesis.

SO UN: I have to write a vision statement. How can I write a vision statement about a film I don’t want to do? “My vision is whoever greenlit this piece of shit dies.”

Ad. laughed so hard, he snatched a pen from his pocket and scribbled the whole phrase on a napkin and asked So. Union to autograph it for him.

So. Union and Shades went back and forth over and over at each other—Shades’ script just got greenlit, So. Union’s was redlit again.

SHADES: So how is it, being red lit?

Even Ad. got in a few one-liners, which was great because he’s so quiet and shy. Of course, they weren’t intended—but they were funny anyone.

The lot of us spent some 50 minutes talking about So. Union’s script (Ad. included), when in his quiet, polite little voice, Ad. asks:

“Wait, what’s the story?”

EVERYONE busted up at that line.

A bunch of people got coconut ice cream. So. Union let me have his cherry. So. Africa chided us saying, “You have sabotaged my work! I am never going to finish my presentation!” We all talked some more and by this point, my head was about to explode from listening to Shades and Soviet Union. Literally, my head was aching from all of the laughter. Finally, we split the bill evenly.

Random: Somehow, though I was the youngest person at the table, I have had my card the longest. Since the 80’s when I was only one. I’ve always had a bank account.

We piled out of the restaurant—all except Shades who ran to the bathroom. We stumbled on towards the Valet who asked, “Which car?”
“We’re waiting for the driver,” we all responded.
“Can you remember the car?” he asked.

We all looked, Soviet Union pointed.

SO UN: That one.

He points to a black car.

VALET: That one.
SO UN: I think so.
VALET: Are you sure?
US: Are you sure it was black?
SO UN: I thought it was black…

The car So. Union was pointing to, ended up belonging to valet himself and in case you were wondering: no. It wasn’t black. Shades’ car is a sort of grayish Honda.

We drove back to AFI and parted company. By then the sun was setting, I was about to fall asleep—but oh. It was such fun. Had every one of those guys asked to marry me all at once at that table, I would have said yes. I wish you guys could be here. I want to take everyone here and show them to the whole world, or something. It’s not fair I should know so many great people.

I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it was just such a delight to talk and laugh and laugh and laugh.

suddenly i was @ 01:23 am
(no feathers)

sunday, may 21, 2006

Stretches.

I haven’t written here in a long while. It’s not that nothing much has been happening, quite the contrary—but I’ve just been lolling about, letting my mind unwind. Doing lots of lunches with Glinda, So. Africa and So. Union. I LOVE those guys with all my whole heart. I helped with another thesis… the fall out OF theses was extreme. I got read in another Walk the Line Teacher class. These things.

Today was the last narrative analysis. This means: the last screening of cycle films. To me, more than anything, truly marks the end of my first year at AFI. I know I still have a presentation and a few classes and a meeting with the Walk the Line writer, but yeah. Watching the last cycle film… it’s really over guys.

One of the last cycles was amazing. A WWI picture about the last Frenchman alive in a trench during battle and the German soldier he tries to protect. God guys. I had heard legend of the set. The Dean of our school went to visit it. It was up for an extra week or so because no one wanted them to dismantle it. They built a full on trench. The shooting everything--- here’s this muddy, dirty trench on a soundstage, but you totally believed it was 1916 in Europe. Just the details, a bomb would go off, the ground would shake and you would hear the SHHSH as little grains of dirt fell through the roots onto the bodies of dead soldiers. Amazing. 3200 dollars and four days and look what this team did. You don’t need millions to create this sort of thing. After the attack, our French solider wakes and it rains ashes. Soft, gentle, it’s like grey snow. It was just beautiful. Everyone in the audience was blown away.

After the screening the editors prepared a treat: a montage of ALL the cycle projects. Every single one was there from the WWI portrait to the MASTERFUL disaster that which was Ad.’s first cycle film. It was funny, I screamed and howled with laughter, before I began to settle in. I watched all those images… even the ones from bad films--- we did a lot of work guys. I always feel so stupid, because I get moved easily, but we worked hard. I am so proud of my class, look at all those images! Look! We did all that. All that hard work. That’s us.

I was very proud. I am very proud.

In this state of mind, I wandered away for a moment—but did so and in such a manner, I was completely concurrent to the second EVERYONE else left campus. One of those, who walk out of the bathroom and say, “Hey. Where’d everyone go?”

I didn’t want to go home. I felt today was special… I wanted to eat lunch or something. I thought maybe if I waited on campus people would return… and after and hour or so, they did. I can’t tell you how lame I was. The Canadians (Lad and Lass) came to turn in their tax forms.

ME: I’ll walk with you to turn them in!

And suddenly, everyone was showing up! I saw I., I saw Bday and R. in a car.

Then I bumped into So. Union, who was using my method of don’t-want-home, let’s wait for entertainment here. With our powers combined, we decided to do lunch and t’were grand. I just love that guy, he makes me laugh so much.

Is it a lunch-date if someone else pays?

Because after we finished our meal, So. Un. was going to pay and I said, “no, no!” because that makes me worried. It was very fun though, I worry so much about So. Union. I worry A. if his thesis isn’t greenlit he will leave AFI or B. He won’t be asked back. He cops such an attitude, but he is a DEAR when you get to know him.

OH MY GOD!

I went to a party!

I am so sleepy and my chest hurts so much from smelling smoke.

This afternoon I. invited me to Canada Lad’s apt. to hang out. I was supposed to take Ad. to the grocery store and didn’t really want to go out because Canada Lad lives in Studio City and I am TERRIFIED of new places.
Later though, I. called again and you know how you can only say “no” so many times before you have to say yes once or no one will ever ask you to do anything ever again? Well.

So I got up and Mapquested everything and set out to go. I felt SO evil, because I couldn’t get through to Ad. and so just drove on past his place to Canada Lad’s.

I got to Studio City, AMAZINGILY, without incident.

Is there a phobia of getting lost? I don’t think I can describe the terror I experience trying to get to a new place. I shake, I almost cry when I get to where ever I am going. My heart is pounding.

But I did get to Canada Lad’s house and it was just my scene. Only he, I. and W-Bird (I haven’t talked about her, she’s the other red-head at AFI) were there watching tv. I came in and we turned down the sound, changed the channel to pro-wrestling and played Johnny Cash music.

HAAAA.

We ordered some dinner (which I. bought, so nice!), ate and then Shades, Writing Partner and another writer showed up. We laughed and talked about class. We looked through this book AFI sends out introducing all the new scripts coming out from students.

SWEET CHRIST, my friends.

The scripts, were TERRIBLE.

EVERYONE in my class has stronger work. It was actually pretty horrifying to think those were the ideas being sent out into the world. If you could have seen it guys, it was embarrassing. I. said the vice-dean has come up and told him this is the strongest year of writers they’ve ever had, and dude. If that’s what they have been putting out?

Points to book.

She’s not lying.

Finally, everyone stood up. They were going to AFI’s end of the party. I didn’t want to go… I don’t like parties, but they begged and then I kidnapped me away!

It was so SWINGERS driving to the location.

My whole goal in coming to AFI and Hollywood was to live Swingers, but there we were in Writing Partner’s black SUV with Bobby Darin cranked up—blasting “Mack the Knife” and then Elvis Presley’s “A Little Less Conversation.” We ripped along the freeway, music trailing out behind us with little downtown L.A. glittering just over there as we made our way over to Silver Lake, back by Hollywood for this party.

I was scared walking into the party. I know everyone there, so it wasn’t so scary, but I get so nervous. I. came by and said now he didn’t want to be at the party either, so we went and found the tiniest little antisocial corner where we could sit. We were soon joined by my Producer’s little three-year-old! Can you believe he brought her?

Whoops! I fell asleep at the computer.

Continuing!

Then I. saw someone to talk to and ventured off. I stood awkwardly in the shadows because I didn’t want to be in the light lest I looked awful then So. Africa spotted me and came over from the cigar corner (who still smokes cigars?). He came over and that was pretty much a mainstay of my little corner. Many others wafted by: Glinda, R., P., my Nemesis who was the only person at the party blitzed out of his mind, who was being his kind Southernly self offering bourbon, “you’re the bourbon fairy!” I said, to any takers.

-- Whoops. Sorry again guys. I just opened my email and apparently I don’t have a phone (can’t find it) and people are worried I fell off a cliff.

Let me go find that so people can stop emailing me.

Back!

So, if I die, like I once said: two people will notice. Glinda and Adventure.

What was I saying?

Oh yes. So the party was nice. I spent most of it with So. Africa and Shades. So. Africa had his hair down. He has this really long hair, but it’s always kept up or back. I guess for the occasion, he let it free which led to many, “omg, So. Af. has let his hair down!” jokes. But So. Af. is this HUGE person. I’ve told you this before. I come to his elbow, but then last night he had this long curly hair thing going as well and his dark, dark skin. Everyone was coming up to him and saying, “You look so threatening!” “You look terrifying!” and my favourite, uttered by Eowyn, “You’re so tribal this evening, So. Africa.” To which So. Af. laughed and laughed.

My ABSOLUTE MOST FAVOURITE MOMENT was when I was standing with Shades and So. Africa. I was hanging off this punching bag, because not only did it give me something to cling to in my social terror, but it kept me most hidden and we were just talking along when:

SHADES (to me): Are you abstinent?
SO. AF: SHADES.
SHADES: Wait, no that’s the wrong, one—celibate, um, er—
(I laugh)
SHADES: TEA-TOTALER. Are you a tea-totaler?

Hahaaa.

Best Freudian slip (?) of all time. Right up there when he called me “Buttermink” instead of “Butterworth.”

To answer that, no. I’m not a tea-totaler, but I’ve never been drunk either. I just don’t really like drinking.

SO. AF: This will sound bad, but we need to get you drunk.
ME: Many have tried and all have failed.

Finally at 1:30 or so, it was really time to go. I was getting so sleepy. My group reformed and I kept telling Writing Partner, “The native are restless Tonto” until he too got up to take the rest of us to our cards in Studio City.
I hopped into my car, once there and took off and got all the way home WITHOUT GETTING LOST ONCE.

By then it was about 2 AM. I started writing my entry here, then I pulled up my pillow and put my head on my desk, where I fell asleep. Sometime during the night, I got up and moved to the floor which is where I stayed until 1 PM.

When I woke up, I showered, putzed about, started writing here again, when I checked my email and— well I wrote all of this before, but yes. MORAL OF THE STORY. I have two friends: Glinda and Ad.

I pulled on an outfit of sorts- everything I own is dirty. Today’s outfit was: man-shorts, a cap, flip flops. THO attractive, I’m sure. I zipped along to AFI to see if I could catch Ad. since I stood him up yesterday.
Instead I found Glinda. I think we have an cinematographer for thesis. Armenia, from Armenia. I think he will be very good. I’m very excited. Using Glinda’s phone, we called London Lass to call Ad. to tell him to stop moving where ever he was, because his ride was at school and ready to grocery shop.
After hanging up, I invited Glinda along. She agreed.
We pulled Ad. into the car and HO HO. Were off. THREE to a grocery shop.
It’s like being caught between the ying and yang with Glinda and Ad. I’ve told you before how one is fire (Glinda) and the other is water (Ad.).
Ad. would be there calculating the cent per ounce and Glinda would run ahead collecting items from the next three aisles before finally saying, “Ad. you are SO SLOW!”
I would just laugh.

GLINDA: Are you from Scotland?
AD: Nooo… but I lived there once!
GLINDA: I knew it!

Eventually, Glinda won out because we were having an editor crisis. Our old editor told everyone she was teamed with our group, but Glinda NEVER said they were—but to clean up the mess, Ad. and I tore through the store in an amazing fashion and beat our own personal record of 10 hours by 9.98 hours.
After shopping, I took Ad. home for a moment, while he made himself a sammich, I called home and found out my aunt had a stroke. I don’t really want to talk about it right now, I don’t really know the details. It was a minor one and I think she’s completely fine. When I know more I will let you know.
After, we went to my place, I ate lunch and played, “The Secret of N.I.M.H.” for Ad. Then we were off to Target.
That was a fun trip. We looked at many things… mostly Ad. is trying to find luggage so he can have a Canada bag for when he sees his GF and a Wales bag for when he goes home this summer.

OH. This reminds me.

I am just GOING ON tonight, I’m sorry.

The other day, I went to lunch with this army of writers and So. Union and Glinda (directors, both). After the lunch, So. Union, So. Africa, Glinda and I went to this coffee shop.

So. Un.: We’re having coffee in a café, sitting on a couch inside, how French.

And, wait. Did I type this out all ready? No.

And we were talking about how there are only 3 females or something at AFI.

SO. AF.: You know, at the beginning of the year there was a list…
G AND I: WHAT!?
SO. UN.: I didn’t know there was a list.
So. Af. points to me.
SO. AF.: YOU weren’t on it, because you were supposed to be with Adventure.
ME: GASP. NO.

REALLY? Is this why my social life in THAT arena bites? I don’t get it. We’re just pals! I never, ever do anything to suggest otherwise. If So. Africa said Canada Lass and Ad., I would have understood, because she was always leaning on him and hugging him (this is her way and just her, but when you don’t know people, you don’t know this), but all I ever do is talk! Ad. is now like my little brother who on a semi-regular basis drives me bonkies, even though I love him to death. NOT to mention, Ad. talks about his GF all the time! SHEESH PEOPLE. So embarrassing. I told this to Ad. too. Later, So. Af. said he was kidding, but still.

I digress.

Where was I?

Oh, Target. So yes. Target was fun. Ad. bought me a DVD! “Lucas.” Makes me laugh.
After some 19 hours there, we went to Best Buy. Oh, can anyone help? Ad. is buying a Laptop. He wants a Dell. Don’t Dell computers suck arse? I am a Mac person, straight up and through, but he will never get one. What is the most decent sort of PC a person can get? He was looking at a Compaq one for 600, but I figure that’s just going to die in 2 days. You can’t skimp on electronics!

Finally, we left, I took Ad. home and Glinda came over to my place so we could:

A. Gossip
B. Eat ice cream
C. Watch bad television

All my favourites! She just left an hour or so ago. And here it is. 2 something AM. Again. I am falling asleep again too! Sorry if this is full of typos. My eyes are watering with tiredness. I think I should shower before I fall asleep at the computer again.

HEE.

suddenly i was @ 04:53 am
(no feathers)

saturday, may 13, 2006

Well, our script was greenlit. The thesis was chosen to be made and my old producer from Riding Hood signed on and we have the best, best, best core team you could imagine.

I do feel bad though, just awful. After the announcement, I went up by the library with Ad. and stood with a bunch of people whose work got the red light. People were saying they are not coming back and this and that and it made me really depressed, to the point I felt bad I was even chosen. Worse because they were talking about how conventional the pieces that were chosen are and how only in America would a school like this even exist. Glinda and I eventually walked away and I told her, “Hi, I’m an American Hack.” To which she responded, “Well, I’m a European Sell-Out.”

I felt so, so bad. Then Ad. finally comes over after talking to London Lass (who wasn’t greenlit, very sad) and was talking to us. We were saying how bad we felt and I said it was my fault and Glinda said, “No, no. It’s the story. It’s my fault we were greenlit.” The Ad. said something along the lines of, “There’s nothing wrong with being mainstream” to Maarit and I and it just was the wrong thing to say. I said such, “that was just the wrong thing to say.”
He grabbed his bag and said, “Well, I’m gone.”

ME: Ad.
(silence)
ME: Ad.!
(silence—walking away)
ME: Aren’t we going to the store?
(silence)

Finally I run to him and grab his arm and say, “come on, come on” and pull him away from the stairs and he pulled back, saying, “I’m not going anywhere if we’re fighting.” I said we weren’t and then I tried to tell him, my arm still through his pulling him along. I was just trying to say it was very depressing when I have to listen to people saying they are going to quit school now and how, I don’t know, the whole thing made me feel awful.

AD: Well, quite honestly, I think that’s incredibly selfish.

I dropped his arm and I felt tears come right up to my eyes. I have soft spots. I try all the time to be generous and nice—all the time, and I think it's because deep down I do think I am a selfish awful person-- but when someone says I am false or selfish, it’s my soft spot. It hurt my feelings so much. And now I can’t tell if I was being selfish because I didn’t want to listen to everyone being sad or to others saying, “Tell me who on this list has done any good work?” (that wasn’t London Lass, it was another director). I can’t tell. Maybe it is. We talked some more, I kept saying, “let me give you a ride home or to the store” and he would say, “don’t sweep it under the carpet” and I would say, “I’m not, I don’t care, I shouldn’t have ever come.”
Eventually he suddenly says, after me explaining more, “Wait then we are sad about the same things.”
We made up and I took him to the store and it was fine and whatever. I offered to help him with some piece and now I am home and feel awful. I called my parents and just cried. I wish I hadn’t even have been greenlit if it makes me selfish. I shouldn’t even have gone.

In the meanwhile, I feel sick. I ate a piece of cheese before the announcement and it made me ill. I had flashes of heat and I feel dizzy – well, yes. Generally feel like crap. I feel so bad everywhere and lonely and like I messed everything up.

I did get greenlit though, good bad or indifferent and hope everyone else I like gets greenlit later as well.

suddenly i was @ 12:10 am
(no feathers)

thursday, may 11, 2006

Today was such an odd day…

It was my last “Great Screenplays” class this morning. We just had a big general talk then were sent off. Bday and I. ran at me and asked me to lunch, so I said yes. As we made our way down the hill we did the writerly thing and collected company. By the end we also had accrued Canada Lass and So. Africa. I can’t tell you how motley this crew is. I think I am the only one who regularly hangs out with each person (except for Bday and I. who are known as, “the gays” by R.), Lunch was entertaining. I felt slightly bad for dear So. Africa because I know he is super sensitive about his age (he’s not that old, I don’t know why he gets so worried, but he’s 10 years older than I am) and he didn’t seem to have that much to talk about with the table, made up of the youngest members of AFI! Poor thing! And Canada Lass was just off in a world of her own. At first it was very funny, but I have more of this later.
Then what?
We had a seminar watching some of the miniseries, “Broken Path,” which will be debuting sometime later this month or so. It was actually half-way decent. It’s a Western with that guy from Sideways, the part I liked though was these two cowboys on their way to Wyoming, end up finding these 5 Chinese girls sold into prostitution. I liked the angle with the girls, I’ve never seen it before. I thought they were cute. The old cowboy named them all numbers, 1, 2, 3, 4 and Little Number 5 (5 was a tiny girl with bound feet).
After the seminar, I went with Bday to Jamba Juice. I hope, since I can’t have anyone I’ve been with before in my workshop, I work with Bday. Today I was so, so, so angry in my morning class talking about sharing work. So many writers do not want to critique their work in progress: ie bring in pages every week. They rather bring in a whole draft and critique it as a whole. Nothing sounds worse to me. I was writing on my own before AFI, I came to this school for feedback and input from people who AREN’T me. I think so much of it comes from pantywaists who have never, ever had a real critique.

PERSON: I would get these comments and then just freeze up for weeks.
PERSON 2: Well then I just had to go back and just fix everything before going forward.

ARGH. People are so weak and annoying! A. water off a duck’s back. Those are what comments. Comments are opinions. If they are good, great. If not? NOTHING says you have to use them. Just nod and say, “thank you.”
B. Apparently no one has taken animation. If you go back two pages, you go forward four. You will always get better as you go, but you can’t go back and get stuck in the cycle of rewriting over and over.

No one has any discipline or courage. It’s not easy to share pages but that’s the forking point of this place. You create better community when you share and it’s fun. Goddamnit.

This still makes me angry. I can’t even remember what I was talking about.

Oh yeah. So that was nice, we got back to school early and he had a meeting with his director. I sat about for moment made card for Mr. Man’s son thanking him for liking my script, when Canada Lass came over and asked if I wanted to hang out. I said sure.
She wanted to go for tea. We drove down for tea, then she changed her mind so we went on a ride.
It was very strange guys. She was acting very weird… I can’t describe it. She was just so flightly and then she would be listening to the radio and would out of no where say, “It’s all so bad!’ – but in a sort of near-tears voice. I have never hung out with Canada Lass, ever. I know her, but we’re not close, so I didn’t know what to do. We went to her place so we could get her sweater, but the forgetfulness and flightly-strangeness continued and I wondered a bit if she was on something.
Then evening class, we watched “Inside Man” and the cinematographer came and talked with us. He’s an old AFI fellow. I sat with Puerto Rico and Shades and eventually Adventure. It was nice… Puerto Rico is a doll and a half. I love him to pieces.
After I gave Ad. a ride home and told him I was worried about Canada Lass and he told me I’m not the only one and he and Canada Lad also worry there is substance abuse happening… and nothing light either. I am scared and worried for her…
Anyhow. My back is killing me and I am watching scary hospital shows… but that was my interesting social day today.

suddenly i was @ 03:09 am
(no feathers)

wednesday, may 10, 2006

Mmmmmmmmmmm.

I got home at 6ish today, came home—and died until 11:30 PM. I am so tired. Yesterday was feature D-day. After days of being holed up, much in the manner of the roach in “The Metamorphosis” and/or a homeless person on Hollywood Boulevard—my feature is finished. Glinda read through it, gave me fantastic notes, I lost over 10 pages and brought the whole thing in at 109 pages. It’s turned in, WGA registered and going out for coverage.
I sent the pages out for proofing (thanks again, lovies!) late in the afternoon then set about my special projects for the day: that is, my white chocolate cheesecake!
I decided my classes, which were the last of their sort, needed food. For workshop I made a green chili quiche and for acting class a white chocolate cheesecake (with chocolate cookie crust, raspberry puree and dark chocolate shavings on top).
The cake took all afternoon and several hours to cool. By 10 PM, Ad. emailed asking if I could pick him up from AFI and we could go hang out and get food—his treat. This should be an example of how much pressure was on us, he never pays for anything. Ever! I told him I had to go to Kinkos still and make copies of my manuscript, he said he would join me.
So Ad. came over and I must admit it was quite fun. We were both working away on my computers. He made himself a sammich and it was like having a roommate for an hour or so.

ME: You just spit on my screen, didn’t you?
AD: No, it’s raining!

Finally… I don’t even know what hour it was midnight at least. We both had our scripts ready and took off to Glendale to the only 24-hour Kinkos in the land (really, why on EARTH would the Sunset and Vine one be closed at 6 PM, you think there would be more late-night screenwriters!).
We got to Glendale and got out of the car. We were the only people, the only LIFE, for miles and miles.
GLENDALE, POPULATION: … us.
We crashed into the Kinkos, much to the horror of the one employee there I’m sure, and made our copies. Ad. was traumatized because his script cost 10 dollars to copy.

AD: Well now I can’t sell this piece of poo for a dollar because I know it’s worth at least 10!

Copies ascertained and half the rainforest killed, we exited Kinkos. Driving back, the only car on the road-- you would think Hollywood is this happening place after dark… not so much—we decided to hole punch papers at my place.

So we came back and did just that, entertained ourselves with the hole puncher and then were off to Ad.’s.
By this point he was positively delirious and singing the Muppet Babies theme song. He would make his voice go so high! I almost wet myself, it was so wrongly funny. We couldn’t stop laughing.
Finally he shoved off, as did I when it came to our attention the time was 2 AM. ACK. I still had another assignment to write and a quiche to make!
Back home I whipped together the mix for the quiche… eggs, cheese, chilis, baking pow—wait.
I looked at the jar.
DAMMIT!
It was Baking Soda, not the powder I needed!
There it was: 3 AM and I needed baking powder. There was no going back. I had a bowl of 10 eggs and a pound of Monterey jack cheese.
I took up my keys again and drove to the 24 hour grocery store.
There was a creepy man outside, possibly a rapist, who’s to say. I parked five inches from the door to the store and bolted inside, the man followed, but there was a security guard running the register.

GUARD: Shopping late!
ME: I forgot an ingredient.
GUARD: Cooking… at this hour!?

I zipped, got the stupid powder and went to pay. The scary hooded man was wandering around, following me in a weird sort of way, so I went back to the guard, who I could tell was watching the man, which made me feel better.
I ran out of the store and practically broke a window trying to get in my car at super speed and came home.

4AM. I was making a quiche and proofing this other paper which was due today.
At this point I was so tired I was going blind. I proofed. I packed. I finished the quiche. By the end it was 5:20 AM or so and I couldn’t even make it to the shower or to bed, I just fell asleep in my chair and set the oven timer to wake me up every 50 minutes until 7 AM.

Then it was skoo time.

Can you believe it, this is the beginning of the end?
My last workshop.
The last time I will ever sit with Ad., So. Africa—the remedial, beautiful accented end of the table. The last time I will sit by I. having dreams about my story…
It breaks my heart. Unanimously we had the strongest workshop this year. I mean, across the other faculty it is agreed. – And I will miss it. With my full heart. I know no one reads this journal from my class, but thank you guys. I couldn’t have ever, ever, ever asked for a better group and my work will be less without you. I just dearly love you all, so much.
God, I am going to cry!
Suffice it to say, it was the last workshop class and my mind is blown. It’s not going to hit me until next Monday, I’m sure.
The quiche, however, wasn’t really touched, only one or two pieces (we were only 6 people) so I took it to acting class with my cake. EGAD, did those go over well. The cake was gone—I was so excited it turned out well, I had never made it before. We watched bits of Kramer vs. Kramer, then… before I knew it, it was done as well. The happy writer-acting class which somehow became the best of the acting classes (much to the directors’ chagrin).
I went on a mini adventure with a motley crew: Ad., Canada Lad, I. and a girl who has no nickname yet… she is the other red-head female writer of AFI. Those guys wanted drinks (at 2 PM!), I was just tired… I felt a bit bad. Ad. wanted to go eat, but I couldn’t drive any where, I was just exhausted.
We drove all about, even went into a restaurant got seated and found out no drinks were served and went back to school.
It was actually pretty hilarious.
I. drove, he can’t drive to save his life.

At the end of the day I got to bond with Glinda and Ad. I love those two guys together. They are so different. Glinda is this fiery sort of person, Ad. so quiet. Fire and water. Makes me laugh.
Glinda and I then ran into Shades, who, BTW, was forking GORGEOUS today. He was burned on set, sun-wise, but he had this blue shirt on and his skin had tanned, I don’t know but he looked great! I told him so too. – I digress! We ran into him and I am pretty excited because we might all go hiking with So. Union this weekend!
Wee!

That brings us to about now. I came home, slept, woke up, wrote this.

I think I am going to shower…

I never did type up my grocery adventure with Ad. did I? Alas, I will just include my favourite lines from it because I think they are cute:

AD: If you ever need a recommendation I’ll write you one.
ME: Aw, thanks.
AD: If a nice young man needs some convincing I’ll write him and tell him, “Well, I don’t know about the good bits, but the rest is perfect!”

Haha, aw. What a dear heart!

suddenly i was @ 02:38 am
(no feathers)

tuesday, may 9, 2006

I am so sleepy... I have only had about two hours of sleep which was spent on my chair. Wow. This weekend was insane. My feature was finished, then it was editing. Editing, editing, editing. I am so proud-- I got it down to 109 pages. Thanks so, so much to my proofers Xelphaba and the Cousbian. -- But yes. I feel like this is my first real script or something... I just registered it at with the Writers' Guild, which is no big deal, you can register anything, but for me it feels like a step!

Oh god! I am falling asleep.

suddenly i was @ 09:41 am

thursday, may 4, 2006

Some really amazing things have been happening over the past few days! I’m sorry I have been so woefully neglectful of my LJ life here, but you know how it goes. Right now I am gearing up to the final week of official school. Can you believe it? Almost one full year, spent. Then after next week I have a few scattered seminars and a presentation—and on the 24th we get our invitations from AFI: you know, the ones which say, “we would like to invite you back to AFI for a second year. Your deposit is due Tues.”
Ha ha.

Anyhow, as I was saying: AMAZING THINGS.

First, I know there is at least one person on my FL who understands the phenom’ of how there are certain people’s opinions which matter more to you than they should. These are people who you deem as, “very good” at what they do, or I don’t know, perhaps it’s some sort of hero worship thing—I don’t know. All I do know is when they say, “good work,” it’s like you were just awarded a million dollars.

First, on this list, is my acting teacher. He does NOT give idle praise and when he says, “good,” that means something. This Tuesday, Adventure, P. and I had our scene. Ad. and I were acting this time and P. was our director; I think our group works best in this combination. The scene didn’t strike me as anything special—we were an unhappily married couple, Ad. and I do these roles well and rehearse all prior by calling each other “ho’ bag” and “bastard.” In the scene we were talking about dreams. I was talking about running away and joining the circus and trying to convince my husband “learning to sky dive” isn’t a real dream. My dream was to be in love, like they are in Titanic. I am more in love than Ad. is and am trying to make the effort, but he is indifferent. When he throws out my dream as “Sappy, maudlin Hollywood love” my tone changes and I start to leave the room. Husband Ad. then calls after, repeating my circus lines, asking if, didn’t I say I wanted to run away and join the circus? I then told him, maybe I did. But maybe I came back, All this spoken in a whimsical sad manner, but on my last line, I leave and SLAM a door.
The blocking was simple. I looked straight out into the audience, looking into a “mirror” while I put on make up. Ad. busied himself behind me putting on a tie and his shoes. The only contact we had was when he touched my shoulder for the love lines, but there was never eye contact. The door slam was never rehearsed, I just did it at the time, but it got a real response from Ad., which was good.
ANYHOW. That was longwinded, HI. – But afterward, our teacher just went on about! They, our class, it must have gone on for 40 minutes! He complimented our director/writer. Everything. Ad. and I started to feel awkward because we were still just camped out on the stage, because usually crits only go on for 9 minutes or something.
Even later, P. said she ran into our teacher later and he – FORKING A. my internet is dead. – And he complimented her again and said Ad. and I were good actors!
WEE!
That was an amazing way too see off the class, being it next class is our last and there are no more scenes.
The second person on this list is Gill Dennis, the Walk the Line writer I always like to talk about. We have this class, all the writers and directors (it’s divided into several sessions, I’m in the first one, we’re all writers there, no directors) with him where we watch scenes from movies then you have to transcribe them to the page. Well, I was pretty excited in class when he read mine out loud. I was read out loud last class too so I am basically destined to fail now. – But yes! Was delighted beyond words I was read out loud. This other kid, I crewed on his film set, the one with horses and kids and there were less notes about his writing, so I think his was better. – But then, FOR SOME RANDOM REASON, my scene was read to all the other classes as an example!
I came back to school and all these directors were walking up to me, “Hey, nice scene.” I. came up, “Gill loved your scene, said your full name out loud and made reference to your porntastic body.” I’ll let you figure out which parts of that so-very-I. sentence is true.
But I couldn’t believe it! I was the example! My crappy scene with three typos! And seriously, I don’t even think Gill knew who I was up until really now (well, and the last class when I told this story about my dad knowing him from these Peckinpah books [he was Peckinpah’s son-in-law]). I was beyond flattered and being it I don’t even know if I got all the dialogue for this last scene, I am prepared to nose dive for the next session, but still I think that’s almost the coolest thing ever to happen to me ever—

Up until this last item. The coolest of all. There is this other guy in my class, my feature workshop, I haven’t a nickname for him yet—Mr. Man, I will call him. Mr. Man is THE man. He’s about 40 but you would, never, ever, ever guess. Seriously? 26, tops. He’s this nice handsome guy who worked for the military for 20 years or so, so he’s very fit and has all this knowledge. I was talking to him today about features. This and that and ther other and just as I was about to take off:

MR. MAN: Oh, my son likes your script.
ME: Mine?
MM: Yeah, every week he says, “Where’s ---‘s script? Where’s ----‘s script?
ME: Really?

Mr. Man has a son who’s 8, I’ve never met him. I didn’t know he knew my name! But apparently every week he has been reading my pages.

SON: When is she going to finish pages?
MM: Pretty soon.
SON: Well she better hurry up!

He asks questions:

SON: What’s going to happen?!
MM: You have to wait and see.
SON: But what DID happen to Little Brucie? What did he do to him?
MM: I don’t know. Broke his arm.
SON: No, he broke the other kid’s arm!

He also always asks, “When is this going to be made into a movie?” and all Mr. Man can say is, “I don’t know!” to which, again, comes the phrase, “She better hurry up!”
I am almost tearing up now, this is the best, best, best compliment I have EVER been paid.
Then, Mr. Man said his son is writing up a BOOK REPORT on my script!
My heart just stopped. I couldn’t believe it! My script is about two 10 year old boys at summer camp. The fact some on who is roughly that age is so into my story? That means I got something right! It’s believable and fun and everything else FOR A REAL kid. So not only do I have the I.’s of the world, not sentimental at all, coming up to me before acting class and saying, “I’m so sad I won’t get to hear from these guys again” but my characters are also appealing to someone who isn’t even in a double digit age category yet. I can’t believe from 40 – 8 people like my two little boys.
Mr. Man wanted to know if his son could get a copy, I said certainly and I think I am going to write him a thank you letter as well.

My horoscope book said this was going to be a time to get recognition for hard work, but I think this is too much, it’s all going to crash down tomorrow, but wow! How amazing!

I have some other news as well, but it is negative, so I will report that later. In the meantime: WOW!

suddenly i was @ 03:54 am

Some really amazing things have been happening over the past few days! I’m sorry I have been so woefully neglectful of my LJ life here, but you know how it goes. Right now I am gearing up to the final week of official school. Can you believe it? Almost one full year, spent. Then after next week I have a few scattered seminars and a presentation—and on the 24th we get our invitations from AFI: you know, the ones which say, “we would like to invite you back to AFI for a second year. Your deposit is due Tues.”
Ha ha.

Anyhow, as I was saying: AMAZING THINGS.

First, I know there is at least one person on my FL who understands the phenom’ of how there are certain people’s opinions which matter more to you than they should. These are people who you deem as, “very good” at what they do, or I don’t know, perhaps it’s some sort of hero worship thing—I don’t know. All I do know is when they say, “good work,” it’s like you were just awarded a million dollars.

First, on this list, is my acting teacher. He does NOT give idle praise and when he says, “good,” that means something. This Tuesday, Adventure, P. and I had our scene. Ad. and I were acting this time and P. was our director; I think our group works best in this combination. The scene didn’t strike me as anything special—we were an unhappily married couple, Ad. and I do these roles well and rehearse all prior by calling each other “ho’ bag” and “bastard.” In the scene we were talking about dreams. I was talking about running away and joining the circus and trying to convince my husband “learning to sky dive” isn’t a real dream. My dream was to be in love, like they are in Titanic. I am more in love than Ad. is and am trying to make the effort, but he is indifferent. When he throws out my dream as “Sappy, maudlin Hollywood love” my tone changes and I start to leave the room. Husband Ad. then calls after, repeating my circus lines, asking if, didn’t I say I wanted to run away and join the circus? I then told him, maybe I did. But maybe I came back, All this spoken in a whimsical sad manner, but on my last line, I leave and SLAM a door.
The blocking was simple. I looked straight out into the audience, looking into a “mirror” while I put on make up. Ad. busied himself behind me putting on a tie and his shoes. The only contact we had was when he touched my shoulder for the love lines, but there was never eye contact. The door slam was never rehearsed, I just did it at the time, but it got a real response from Ad., which was good.
ANYHOW. That was longwinded, HI. – But afterward, our teacher just went on about! They, our class, it must have gone on for 40 minutes! He complimented our director/writer. Everything. Ad. and I started to feel awkward because we were still just camped out on the stage, because usually crits only go on for 9 minutes or something.
Even later, P. said she ran into our teacher later and he – FORKING A. my internet is dead. – And he complimented her again and said Ad. and I were good actors!
WEE!
That was an amazing way too see off the class, being it next class is our last and there are no more scenes.
The second person on this list is Gill Dennis, the Walk the Line writer I always like to talk about. We have this class, all the writers and directors (it’s divided into several sessions, I’m in the first one, we’re all writers there, no directors) with him where we watch scenes from movies then you have to transcribe them to the page. Well, I was pretty excited in class when he read mine out loud. I was read out loud last class too so I am basically destined to fail now. – But yes! Was delighted beyond words I was read out loud. This other kid, I crewed on his film set, the one with horses and kids and there were less notes about his writing, so I think his was better. – But then, FOR SOME RANDOM REASON, my scene was read to all the other classes as an example!
I came back to school and all these directors were walking up to me, “Hey, nice scene.” I. came up, “Gill loved your scene, said your full name out loud and made reference to your porntastic body.” I’ll let you figure out which parts of that so-very-I. sentence is true.
But I couldn’t believe it! I was the example! My crappy scene with three typos! And seriously, I don’t even think Gill knew who I was up until really now (well, and the last class when I told this story about my dad knowing him from these Peckinpah books [he was Peckinpah’s son-in-law]). I was beyond flattered and being it I don’t even know if I got all the dialogue for this last scene, I am prepared to nose dive for the next session, but still I think that’s almost the coolest thing ever to happen to me ever—

Up until this last item. The coolest of all. There is this other guy in my class, my feature workshop, I haven’t a nickname for him yet—Mr. Man, I will call him. Mr. Man is THE man. He’s about 40 but you would, never, ever, ever guess. Seriously? 26, tops. He’s this nice handsome guy who worked for the military for 20 years or so, so he’s very fit and has all this knowledge. I was talking to him today about features. This and that and ther other and just as I was about to take off:

MR. MAN: Oh, my son likes your script.
ME: Mine?
MM: Yeah, every week he says, “Where’s ---‘s script? Where’s ----‘s script?
ME: Really?

Mr. Man has a son who’s 8, I’ve never met him. I didn’t know he knew my name! But apparently every week he has been reading my pages.

SON: When is she going to finish pages?
MM: Pretty soon.
SON: Well she better hurry up!

He asks questions:

SON: What’s going to happen?!
MM: You have to wait and see.
SON: But what DID happen to Little Brucie? What did he do to him?
MM: I don’t know. Broke his arm.
SON: No, he broke the other kid’s arm!

He also always asks, “When is this going to be made into a movie?” and all Mr. Man can say is, “I don’t know!” to which, again, comes the phrase, “She better hurry up!”
I am almost tearing up now, this is the best, best, best compliment I have EVER been paid.
Then, Mr. Man said his son is writing up a BOOK REPORT on my script!
My heart just stopped. I couldn’t believe it! My script is about two 10 year old boys at summer camp. The fact some on who is roughly that age is so into my story? That means I got something right! It’s believable and fun and everything else FOR A REAL kid. So not only do I have the I.’s of the world, not sentimental at all, coming up to me before acting class and saying, “I’m so sad I won’t get to hear from these guys again” but my characters are also appealing to someone who isn’t even in a double digit age category yet. I can’t believe from 40 – 8 people like my two little boys.
Mr. Man wanted to know if his son could get a copy, I said certainly and I think I am going to write him a thank you letter as well.

My horoscope book said this was going to be a time to get recognition for hard work, but I think this is too much, it’s all going to crash down tomorrow, but wow! How amazing!

I have some other news as well, but it is negative, so I will report that later. In the meantime: WOW!

suddenly i was @ 03:49 am

tuesday, may 2, 2006

Yawn!

I just got in. Today was Canada Lad’s bday. We had dinner at his favourite Thai restaurant. – Remember when I went out to lunch with him? Same place.

Did I tell you guys about the invite? He called me yesterday and I had no idea it was him.

CL: So I was wondering if you would like to come?
ME: Um. Well, you know, sure. I just—
ME IN MIND: WHO THE HELL IS THIS!?
CL: Yeah, well— it’s like 3rd grade me calling…
ME: I just have my feature…
CL: Yeah, I know. Crunch time.
ME IN MIND: Wait.
ME: WAIT. You! Yes! I’m coming!

Haha.

It was a lovely dinner, I sat next to Shades and I just love him. He makes me laugh. He’s such a goof. It’s a little bit like being with… I don’t know. He acts much younger than he is, but in such a sweet little way. We had fun because we were smashed together at the head of the table and would do things like serve each other food and share waters.
I felt awful though, because right at the very beginning Canada Lad got a phone call from his grandparents, when he hung up, everyone else was still talking and I smiled at him because he looked so serious. He laughed.

ME; That was nice.
CL: Yeah, well, my grandma has liver cancer.
ME: Oh, I’m sorry.
CL: I just found out.
ME: Wait, now.
CL: Yeah.

The whole rest of dinner you could see his happiness was just gone. That part was very sad. I gave him a hug at the end and told him to be ok. I will check up on him tomorrow.
Otherwise, a good time.

suddenly i was @ 12:07 am

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