And baby?

It totally looks legit. I mean, it’s a crap ass job- because hi, I was using scotch tape to repair a MOTH WING, but if you were to glance you probably wouldn’t notice it at all and I love looking at the back at seeing the huge strip of tape. It’s so heinous, it makes me laugh. The worst specimen, evar! Woo! – the back glass is even still cracked!

I just had to share.

suddenly i was @ 03:33 pm
(no feathers)

tuesday, november 22, 2005

P.S. Amazingly, I only had one typo in my 10 pages I brought in. I was absolutely exhausted writing, literally my eyes were closing and after 3 coffee things I would slap my cheeks to stay awake and then would have to leap from my chair and dance to get my body going for the next few minutes.
It went over well though, I got laughs, that’s a good thing. I can’t believe I got laughs! WOO. LAUGHS. Really, it’s hard to do and I was worried I was less funny than it was sweet, but it’s going both ways and everyone likes Adventure as the main character who’s a 10 year old boy who aspires to be a forensic entomologist.

Today I was sad. Everyone is going out of town and probably because I am beyond sleep deprived, this made me sad. Shades is gone, Adventure is gone. It makes me think of when I have to leave AFI how I am going to cry and cry and cry and cry.

I have to keep moving guys. I am falling asleep as I type and I have to clean. I crew and it’s like the rest of the world falls apart, my place is a mess.

suddenly i was @ 06:47 pm
(1 birdcatcher)

sunday, november 20, 2005

The only bit of exposition you need is this: today the Critical Canadian disappeared for two hours in the middle of the day. I called and he returned, but he was very distracted. I kept asking if he was all right and he said he was good.

By the end of the shoot, TCC and I were absolutely useless in every meaning of the word. No one even knew we were there. By wrap we were just lying on a bed watching “About A Boy” on his computer.
After wrap we went to the grocery store to replenish the food supply. TCC asked if I could push the cart because he just couldn’t cope today. So I pushed and we were wildy entertained. Laughing at the bad-named cheap brands of cereal. Having a good time.
While waiting in line, TCC got a phone call. I could tell he was agitated talking, but I didn’t say anything.
After the call, TCC hung up and we stood a moment. Suddenly he turns to me and launches into a story explaining his disappearance earlier. “The short story of it is…” he told me all these incredibly personal things, I won’t relate any of them here because it’s not right, but all these things I never knew about him and I think he was just overwhelmed because I don’t think he meant to say them all either. The items included years-long sickness, love, marriage, break ups and choices. Huge things, huge things. I can’t believe he told me any of them. It was this amazing out-pouring which I, I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting it.
I didn’t even know what to say. I couldn’t say anything it. It’s beyond any of my experience- but I tried to say what I could. TCC tried to lighten the air by joking. Totally deflect defense humor though, so we talked about cereal and juice when his phone rang again. Whole demeanor-change. Lower voice, I told him to go talk while I paid for things.
When he came back, it was more of the same light banter, but you could see he was troubled and he would say, “It just has to be taken care of tonight.”
In the car there were these long silent moments. I had no idea what solace to offer or advice to give- nothing! My heart was just feeling for him though so I would tell him it would be all right. And he would say, “it’s life” and tell a joke. I wish I had done anything, said anything, I just was at a complete loss. I feel so bad. The car rolled down my dark street and the trip ended up in a very succinct conversation about love.

You’ve never been in a long term relationship?

Me? Ha…

Ah, depends on what you call long.

I believe [name] coined the phrase tragically single. I’ve just given up hope at this point.

Oh no, it, it can happen in an instant.

suddenly i was @ 11:35 pm
(no feathers)

saturday, november 19, 2005

I had so much fun today—respectively speaking. I mean, today was boring and my presence on set was pointless, but I enjoyed my errands with The Critical Canadian.

This morning started at 5, because I had to be on location by 6. Once on location, TCC and I set up shop and set down ourselves. I introduced myself to everyone, including my producer as, “Hi, my name is Amy, I’m with Craft Service.” To deviate any suspicions as to who the “writer” was.
Speaking of which, I was the only writer on set. It was so strange. And lonely! I miss the writers. I got to talk to Adventure on the phone for about 2.5 seconds, but that was it. It was all producers. Producers are different beasts from writers. They are so gossipy. I have NEVER seen anything like it. They ARE the AFI Rumor Mill ®. Very bitter too. My producer was talking and said the writers have it the easiest. I took great offense and was happy when TCC said, “No, no…”
I found out why he gets it today too: he was a writer before he came here as a producer.

THAT’S RIGHT YO.

Try doing it, then talk to me.

The set… wow. Well, at least my group (sans director) apparently was in the right. We are not the irrational ones. Everyone knows our situation. Everyone. Knows. From all ends! I hear it from everyone- the wardrobe person (non-AFI), some editor says some DP feels for our DP. The producers are totally behind our producer. I hope the writers are behind me… at very least the Screenwriting Rep knows!
My director really, really started to stress today. Everything we warned her about: it taking too much time, work overload- came to fruition and it fell at her feet. At one point she pulled my producer over and tried to start the, “We all make mistakes, but we are a team” talk and for the FIRST TIME my producer flat out said, “No.”
He told her it was his job to see that we got through this shoot with the best work possible, but he is not going to share the fall. We haven’t been treated as a team, we’re not going down as one. We all have to take responsibility for our own actions and decisions.
At another point she pulled the producer and I over to discuss reworking some lines. I wouldn’t do it. There was a time and a place for me to work lines, I wasn’t given it originally, I wasn’t going to take the opportunity on-set. Too little, too late- as the phrase goes.
Scenes and shots are dropping like flies, which is fabulous. It’s great because scenes and bits my producer and I voted to cut MONTHS ago, which the director added in are the first things to go.

There is a lesson to be learned here: If you let everyone around you do their jobs, they will only make your work easier.

I am pretty certain this film is going to be shite and somewhat excited we’re building into something of a Mighty Ducks moment among my peers.

The highlight of today was this: TCC and I were sent out to get duct tape. We’re a block from the grocery store, so we figured, we’ll walk.
The grocery store, however, was fresh out.
So we continued to walk.
And walk.
And walk.
And walk.
And walk.
And wa- oh there’s a store.

The walk and all else lasted over an hour. We just took off in the middle of the shoot and no one even noticed. It was awesome and fun. The Critical Canadian is a great guy.

suddenly i was @ 11:10 pm
(no feathers)

Can you believe it?

All I can say is we’ll see. We’ll see. Hopefully all the good surrounding the project: the talent, the location- will even out the complete and utter terror that which is the script- but you know how that could go.

Ha, we’re a like a cell with a strong cell wall but no nucleus.

Today I was terrible. I was up last night until four with my producer trying to work out details, then last minute at 8 AM we finished things up. I really, really wanted to get to school for today’s project screenings for both Shades and Bday were going.
I wasn’t even going to offer to help and once I took off with the shooting script in hand, I didn’t look back and shut off my phone.
P.S. The screenings were great. Shades’ piece was AMAZING. Hands down, best project I’ve seen. It was impressive enough the moderator stated, “There’s not much I can say about this except, line up for a job at Disney.” <- meant as a high compliment.
Bday’s went over less smooth, but was good as a student film (whereas the other was seriously a professional piece).

Afterwards Adventure came up and we were chatting. I found out he got last minutes to Harry Potter last night and went.
“Bastard!” I said.
He said he thought of me, but it was last minute and in Burbank- I totally couldn’t have done it, but still! I was so sad, it was this whole AFI crew which went too. It almost hurt my feelings, because I am so simple when I get it in my head I am doing something, I, well, expect it to happen that way- erm. Especially since it had been in discussion for several weeks!
Cries.
Anyhow, some soccer game of his had been cancelled and he wanted to go to the grocery store.

AD: So are you going to Albertsons?
ME: There it is. I was waiting for that question, I knew you wanted something.

I swear I have the biggest inferiority complex, I really do get scared sometimes people only talk to me or are nice to me because I can’t say no and will do anything to help out (unless they are on my team).

I had a few duties to perform, so I said we could certainly do Albertsons (even though I was HP abandoned!) after I did a few things, which included: getting coolers and a coffee machine from our First A.D. and making 20 copies of the shooting script. Adventure wanted to go to the library, so it all worked out.
The coolers came first and were needlessly precariously carried off- with one of us at each end—

OMG. Craft Service partner here, gee two gee.

THREE HOURS LATER

God, I have spent more time in grocery stores today.

Where was I?

Oh yes. So we ran all our errands, Adventure and I, whilst on campus. It was a little touch and go when I saw my director at the bottom of the stairs. I was so, so bad. I am almost ashamed to admit. I stopped on the stairs and said, “My director.” And I just stood there out of her sight! I didn’t want to be seen.

But things were finished so it was ZIP! Off in my little Bug to Albertsons.
In the car we were talking about religion. This led to a nice compliment, I think- though not sure.
Adventure was saying before he came to L.A. the Jewish religion didn’t even come into his existence and I had to admit, before getting out here I had no idea that 99.8 percent of Hollywood is actually Jewish as well. I then went on to say I went from one heavily religious city (home) to another and it was strange to me. I just don’t like religion. Any religion. At all.
Suddenly I curbed my tongue. You can’t just say those things out loud unless you really know whoever you are sitting with- religion is a hot topic, touchy, sore- you don’t poke at it unless you are a surgeon and know what you’re doing. So I asked, “Before I go on perhaps offending anyone… were you brought up as anything?”
The answer was standard- Church of England and he attended up through the age of 18, then just left it behind because he didn’t believe in any of it any more (sigh of relief on my part).
The question was returned my way and I said, “Nothing. I wasn’t brought up as anything.” To which this reply was made, “That’s good. That’s really good. It’s nice to hear. The people I know with no religious upbringing are the kindest, warmest, most generous, loving people and I know it isn’t from anything they were taught- but there’s something more on the inside which makes them that way. There’s something more to being human. It’s gives me hope for mankind.” ---

Ag. I ruined that. I can’t even finish this quote I can’t remember it right. I’ve totally messed it up. Usually I am very good at remembering words in conversation. It was just this insanely eloquent thing and at first I went to say thanks, or something, but then I got confused and couldn’t figure out if I was included in the quote or if it was a general statement brought about by my comment (I don’t flatter myself, so I think it’s the latter here), either way I was flustered because at the first – I don’t know. It was nice. Anyhow, I didn’t know how to respond so I just went on to explain how people too often confuse organized religion with spirituality and they are so totally, totally, TOTALLY different.

Finally we made it to the store. Today Adventure decided he probably isn’t lactose intolerant and so to celebrate splurged on several items, like the 99 cent Danish for instance, which made me proud. He’s doing a test round now because he’s going for a visit to Toronto next week to see his girlfriend and doesn’t want to end up bed-ridden for the duration because he decided to press the envelope there.
I love these shopping adventures. Can’t you tell? Really though, they are such fun, for no particular reason. I think it’s because I literally don’t get out for anything else. I don’t know how people have social lives. I would like to have one. But… yeah.
Anyhow, today I was actually shopping too, so we split a cart. We really have the two person navigation system down, when I push Adventure tends to head up the front by keeping a hand on the basket, when Adventure pushes I tend to laugh when he rolls into things. We’re also good to tag team when he needs to stand on the edge of the cart, he does so and I sit on the other side so the cart doesn’t topple. We also take turns cart surfing in the aisles.

HERE is a question. So we were in the fruit aisle looking at various orange type fruits, Adventure said to keep an eye out for good ones. I scanned and the ones on the right were squishy, so I pointed to the middle tangerine-things and said, “These ones.”

AD: I like it when the peel comes off easily.
ME: Well these, this is squishy, I don’t know.
AD: See, this should be all right.
(I squish the tangerine from the right which feels LIKE MUSH)
ME: No, no. It will be penicillin on the inside.
AD: Really? But these feel too hard to me.
(We examine a tangerine from the middle)
ME: I don’t know. Where is our produce expert? I can’t tell.
(I touch a tangerine from the right. It’s MUSH)
ME: No, no, no, this is gross.
AD: Are you sure?
ME: No wonder your stomach is upset all the time, you’re eating rotten food!
(Adventure begins packing tangerines from the middle)
ME: Oh, don’t do that, now if they’re bad you’ll be cross at me.
(Adventure smiles, takes one more tangerine from the middle)
ME: Ok. Well, I hope you’re still my friend when you find out you don’t like them.
(Adventure shoves off with the cart)
ME: Well it’s better to be under ripe than it is to be too ripe, I suppose.

MY QUESTION for you is: what the hell. Aren’t squishy tangerine-like things- um, bad?

I really hope I didn’t mislead him.

After shopping we swung by my house and I gave him a lamp which I’m not doing anything with, under the stipulation when he gets rich or leaves the country, he’ll return it to me.

Then I had some free time. Still being EVIL I refused to offer my help to my team. Really. I didn’t call or anything. Karma is going to come and bite me in the arse. I took a nap, when my phone rang. It was Adventure saying he got a 30 dollar gift certificate from SEARS, aka the repair service FROM HELL. I told him we could split it (if we ever found a Sears) and get something fun.
After that, I went on a walk and called my producer to get me some mad funds for Craft Service. I walked over to our location (YAY for living less than 2 blocks from your set) and had a brief session which resulted in my cinematographer, producer and I walking over to the nearest ATM, which was, wouldn’t you know? In Albertsons.
From there I walked home and prepped myself to go craft shopping with a blast from my past: The Critical Canadian. Remember him? FANS OF BRAWNY MAN, he’s the one behind those. He took Bday (before it was his birthday), my producer (before he was my producer) and I to Jamba Juice? He’s great. – But, oh my god, still so critical! He has an opinion about everything. It cracks me up.

TCC: Sticks. I’m opposed to anything in stick form. Cheesesticks, fishsticks. Is the seal on this ok? There’s a girl in class who just eats tuna fish. I mean, I like tuna, but there’s something wrong with that. The prepackaged mayo? I don’t believe in packaged food. What’s your opinion on fruit cake? I think it’s disgusting.

He came over and we zipped over to Costco to shop. Nothing like spending beaucoup dollars on all sorts of things. He would also come up with the most offensive thoughts.

TCC: So Producer has long nails. I asked him if it’s part of his drag outfit.
(I head my forehead).

My producer is gay and his nails are way too long, in case anyone wanted to know, but he isn’t a drag queen.

Does everyone know what craft service is? It’s the snacks on set. TCC and I will provide pretzels and cookies and cheese and all that crap for everyone on the shoot.

After Costco we needed one or two final items. So guess where we went?

Albertsons.

ME TO THE SECURITY GUARD THERE: Hey again!

Shopping with The Critical Canadian is a very different experience. I am used to shopping with someone who sits and debates for 20 minutes over which lotion on sale is more manly: “Mountain Lilac” or “Cucumber Melon.” TCC shops more like I do.

TCC: This looks good.
(Drops into cart)

It was just so funny to be in the grocery store so many times with some many different people. It just showed how different my rapport can be, depending who I am with.

On ridonkulous. It’s so late, I have to get to bed. I have a 6 AM call time. Boo. Watch me just end this rambling post, now.

Wish me luck!

suddenly i was @ 11:09 pm
(no feathers)

friday, november 18, 2005

I hope you guys weren’t lying when you said you liked long entries- because HOO, is this a doozie.

What a day.

WHAT. A. DAY.

I woke up, exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping well as you know and was woken up at 4:30 AM by my producer having a melt down (in an understandable manner this time). We were up until 5 or so and were both so tired trying to make out the wake of our director we had to hang up and go to bed. Before bed, however, I asked my producer if it was all right if I wrote our school supervisor about our director, he said yes.
I was supposed to get up at 7 to start again, but I didn’t and slept late until 8:30.
Before class however, I called my producer and told him I was sending off my email. My producer, meanwhile, had separate printed examples.

Ë The most recent angst of our team goes back to the director taking the script and rewriting it. The numbers of the scenes and the shot lists were based on a different version, panicking the cinematographer and producer. Our cinematographer was never sent the new draft, I was sent it separately and our producer heard from ONE OF THE ACTORS we had a new script. There have been other troubles, e.g. the director changing locations a week before shooting, the director randomly asking an actress to perform her scene topless (she’s a call girl, but still [we lost the actress]) so on, so on.

Our plan of attack worked. Our director was called in for a meeting before the production faculty supervisor.

Oh. Teh. Angst.

Meanwhile, while my director is finding this out, I am upstairs with Canada Lass discussing features when Adventure (in his Screenwriting Rep guise) comes up and Canada Lass begins detailing her experience as a writer (unhappy). It was like looking into a mirror- her experience is slowing going where my current group is. She started with freedom, then the tweaking began—then the nitpicking—until Canada Lass has zip movement creatively speaking and has somehow become a scribe.
I talked a little too- but while we were on the stairs, my director came out and she called me over.
She had my producer’s “evidence” in hand.
I stiffened.

DIRECTOR: Producer tells me you’re unhappy, why?

I told her why the group is frustrated. She told me I was only saying how the group felt, not how I felt. I told her how I feel is irrelevant to the more pressing issue: the shoot. Whatever I feel is so moot to this. Making the shoot work, that’s the goal.
She pressed more and more and after a bit of a lecture I finally just said, “I don’t want to talk about how I feel right now.”
With this my director left and I was about to burst into tears.
I went down the stairs to Adventure and Canada Lass and a few other writers at this time and could barely get out the words, “I have to go guys, get home and sleep.”
I took off up the stairs, when my phone rang. It was my mom.
There’s nothing like your mom’s voice which makes you want to cry even more, before the first tearfall could take place, however, I heard a sound next to me and there was Adventure.
Ag, no tears, I think.
I tell my mom goodbye and Adventure walks up to the car with me and I tell him what was going on (further, as the Screenwriting Rep. he’s been made aware of the situation on several occasions)- the whole time trying not to cry, even though I could feel my eyes burning and kept having to cover my face.
Finally after calming a bit I said, “I’m going to Subway, would you like me to get you a sandwich or anything?” – for he said he was hungry earlier.
And he said he would come along.

I met him at the bottom of the hill, where a good lot of writers had collected. When I pulled up in my car, Canada Lad saw me and ran over- for a bit of awesomeness- and asked if I can help him illustrate some things. I said yes.

Adventure and I rolled over to Subway. It was about 1 something in the afternoon and I knew I had another meeting with my producer and cinematographer at 1:30, but I literally didn’t think I could cope, so evilly, turned off my phone. I needed just a little space for about 30 minutes to recollect after my near meltdown.

After grabbing our food we clambered back into my car. Pulling out we debated where to go: AFI, my place, the park… back and forth. Finally we decided my place.
Up the way we drove and got to my apartment. We were chit chatting up the way (I was feeling better at this point) and I got to my door with a jingle of my keys. I opened the door and we walked in and- oh my god.
Gas.
It smelt so strong of gas.

The past few days it has had a similar smell- but I thought it was residual of these vapors my fridge repairman had let out into the entirety of my apartment.

But this. This was strong.

Really strong.

ME: Hi, it really smells like gas in here.
AD: Yes it does.

I went around and began opening windows, Adventure followed in behind.

AD: When’s the last time you used your stove top?
ME: I… don’t know.

The two of us went at the stove, trying to light the burner- no flame. Further terror was added when Adventure found a hissing noise, which I was convinced was the fridge, but still!

The fridge! It reminded us. Adventure was going to call the fridge people to see if any compensation could gathered. I said I had all the numbers in the car and since he had finished his food, he offered to get everything (fun side note: he set off my alarm).
While he was out there, I began to think and decided to call my manager about the weird smell.

ME: Hi, I was just calling because my apartment smells like gas and my friend and I tested out some of my burners and they aren’t lighting. There’s also a funny noise, which I am not sure about, I think it’s nothing, but then again- my apartment smells like gas. Ok. Bye!

Adventure comes back inside and I start, Citizen Kane style, detailing for him all the foibles of my fridge repair company. From there, Adventure began calling.
Suddenly, at this point, I realize how late I am for my group’s meeting (it was now 2) but before I could even think, my phone rang and it was my NEW director and it came to me in a flash.

ME: Christ.

I had a meeting with my new group at 2 and I forgot about it. I work out a reschedule with my new group and not seconds after hanging up my old group calls again asking for me- at this point I tell them I am coming as fast as I can.

OI. MY BRAIN.

I moved back into the main room to show support as Adventure tried to regain my lost funds by pretending he was my boyfriend.

AD: No, you can’t talk to her directly because she has been dealing with this for four weeks and she’s had enough.

Giving HIM the run around though, they now have his contact information under my name and they will call him regarding any refunds.

ME: Yeah… sure they will.

After all of this, we take off to get back to school. I thank Adventure for helping me with the fridge and such then we bolt to our meetings.

My cinematographer and producer grabbed me right away and we sat at a table which was right next to another filled with Adventure, Canada Lad and a few others. My producer was in a state of frenzy and I know my few pals at the other table could visibly see my distaste for the situation. Another director tried to join our table and my producer said, “No. We really need our space, you have to sit else where” which called more attention to us.

The producer had been invited to the “intervention” meeting for our director and he felt we had to go as a team.
I didn’t want to go, neither did the cinematographer. When we said so, my producer almost had a breakdown on the spot. I kept saying, “you’re yelling, you’re yelling,” so he said, “hold on, let me back away” and sat a distance apart from us.
We all decided to go to the meeting.

God.

I was missing class too.

The meeting was awful. My director is very smart and good with words. My producer isn’t. Even though I spent 70 percent of my time wanting to kill my producer, he REALLY does have the valid points of the two. The meeting turned into a he-said-she-said, which my director was obviously winning. Everything here is: defer to the director. Defer to the director.

FYI GUYS: I CAN’T STAND DIRECTORS.

My producer was near tears. I spoke up multiple times and I think the faculty person thinks I’m level headed and such. I wanted to make it clear I am NOT a writer upset over dialogue changes and things. I know the process and I know my place. I expressed the views of the group and voiced some of my concerns, giving a few examples which gave the faculty person pause.
Some others bits of the meeting made me want to scream.

CASE IN POINT:

Hands down, worst thing said by my director during the meeting was when she said she felt she had no breathing room. The faculty member then told US we had to back off and give the director space.

It was like living in the twilight zone.

I had to speak up and say I felt that was untrue since we had been bending over backwards doing every single thing she wanted.

The meeting was pointless. We’re shooting the director’s script (the one she rewrote) and I learned today writers have to let go and my producer needs sleep (seriously, these are the things we were told). It turned into this stupid therapy session and the faculty member says we’re not a team in trouble, since we have a script, location, actors- all the technical stuff and I guess we are ok if you say nothing about the emotional wasteland left behind.

After the meeting I looked at my phone and my APT manager had called with some news…

This is where the life saving bit comes in!

I actually had a gas leak.

But not in the kitchen- IN MY WALL BY MY FURNACE.

So the past two, three days of miserable sleeping? Tossing and turning all night? Could they be due to the fact I have been suffocating my brain?
I’VE KILLED HALF MY BRAIN CELLS. Literally, I was standing there out in front of AFI and I could feel the plik plik plik of the dead ones falling to my shoulder like dandruff.
I felt so stupid. I can’t believe I couldn’t put two and two together.
I need a canary to tell me my air is noxious!

I chitchatted waiting for the film Q&A to begin (I missed the film), then I slipped in for a 4 hour session with this French director, who was fabulous. When the session came to a close at 10 PM, Adventure and I experienced a little Jedi Mind Trick magic from across the auditorium.

I look across the way.
Adventure turns, we catch eyes.
We walk around our separate ways, meeting up in the hall.

ME: Need a ride?
AD: Yes, please.
ME: Did you see how I vibed that one out there?

So I gave Adventure a ride home and we had a fun discussion about another feature idea he has and about learning and writing. Also about my group and his group and what is fair and isn’t. Harry Potter and whether or not Adventure is lactose intolerant or just has a 90 ft tape worm. I told him I am hoping for the latter, because then we can have more ice cream again.

I also told him thank you for saving my life and also walking after me when I left the stairs because if he hadn’t had come along I would have just cried by myself.

It makes happy because I feel like I have a friend, which seems to be a rare commodity in these days.

THEN I got home and guess what?

I had a letter, card- telling me to have a good life and to learn from the lady who I was in a car accident with, how’s that for a nice finish for a tough day?

That was yesterday- today involved me in working clothes, turning down a lunch at Dreamworks, Universal’s prop house and a 1.4 million dollar penthouse

But that’s another story.

suddenly i was @ 01:11 am
(no feathers)

wednesday, november 16, 2005

But I do so love teh el jayz and it does give me peace of mind to write a bit.

Today was a good-o type of day. Not the greatest, sort of meh, but a positive sort of meh overall.

First I had my first script read. OH! How scary those are! You just shake all over. Nothing, NOTHING in the world is more terrifying and more… naked, then hearing your own words spoken back at you. I almost have to just- leave mentally.

All the mistakes I knew were there, were brought up. Mostly the mother’s dialogue. I knew last night her rhythm was off. I don’t know, may this is my own thing, but usually when writing a scene I will find a song which fits that scene. I will listen to it over and over again until the beat is embedded in my mind and hand. Then I will write a scene using that beat.
Dialogue needs rhythm or it’s awkward.
Case in point: the mother does not have a beat, her dialogue is off.
I don’t think any one in class thought this, but the teacher felt a little still about her and this is my reasoning for it.
I assigned out the parts, but I was really torn up about who to choose for my protagonist. I was thinking either Adventure or So. Africa (I am considering the latter more for my other lead), because both have such a quiet manner but it felt weird because both are my pals and I felt it would look like, “Hi, friends- main parts. Everyone else? Whatever.”
So instead I said, “Who is interested in Simon [my lead]?” And Adventure spoke right up, so yay! First choice and I didn’t seem biased.
P.S. Did a great job too! Also good because he was a lovely audience member, laughed at his own lines (“I’m sorry, this is too funny…”). So. Africa was my screen direction. Next week he might be my other lead, not sure yet.
P.P.S. Leave me alone! I sit at the awesome accent end of the table, I can cast whoever I want.

Oh- note to all female screenwriters in the universe: Why being female rocks. In workshops, you will always have a part.

WOO.

Then my group. My. Group.

God.

My group.

Will it ever end?

In brief: Saturday, exactly one week before we start shooting. My director decided she didn’t want the location SHE scouted which my producer got FOR FREE (in this town, a miracle).
It is unheard of to willingly lose a location one week before a shoot. Major, major angst proceeded, which I was not a part of- thank god. Sunday, as a team they scouted an AMAZING penthouse my director found in a realty magazine and some skanky, cagey pit from a Craiglisting.
Again, short version: 2:30 AM Monday, I get a call from my producer who relates all this. Apparently the second place was amazingly dodgy and I can’t believe they went. The guy was a rock-star wannabe name-dropper who had windowless rooms where, “I got to f*ck the chicks.”
My producer went to leave but my director and cinematographer sat down, so he joined them as everyone went on to get high and drunk.
PISSED.
I know I am prudish in this respect. I rarely drink and I never do any sort of drugs- but really. Maybe this is a neophyte’s wet dream, but I just want to work with people who don’t get high and drunk while “working.” Parties, fine, sure, whatever. But come. On. And to make matters worse, I was getting the buzz call?
Wtf?
Words could not express how cross I was.
The following day, I received the new script. My director has rewritten even the dialogue. You know it’s not me because all the O’s in GOD are blanked out and the word is capitalized (G-d). So it’s not me. At. All.
In the evening I got another call from my producer asking me to do some favor and I just lost it. I mean, really inappropriately.

ME: I rather do anything and by anything I mean break my leg than do anything for this project.

Harsh when spoken at someone who has had a migraine for the past 9 hours booking new locations.

That was a messy fight.

I apologized though and we bonded over more crazy director things, so I think we’re all right.

Today my director called me over to do storyboards.

Ridiculous.

A. When I offered to do storyboards, it was weeks ago. You know, when we were in preproduction? The boards are due tomorrow. They’re not getting the whole film. There’s no physical way I can do it, even if I didn’t have mounds of other work.
B. My director doesn’t know what storyboards are. I am drawing out of sequence shot reminder cards. It’s such an incredible waste of my time and I really don’t think they will help anyone.
C. Call me crazy or egotistical- may it was all my art training, but I swear to god I have a better sense of frame than the vision of this film. I think my cinematographer has an eye- but it’s been overruled by my director whose favourite shot is the “med-wide.”
Read: most boring shot in the history of ever.

This said, I also had the chance to visit the new location. We got the penthouse guys. It makes NO SENSE for our story which is about a newly moved in girl who has roaches, but the place is AMAZING.

1.5 million dollar penthouse. The tip-tip-top of this building. The whole place as a wrap around balcony- you can’t believe the size of this place- one side over looks the entirety of the city of Los Angeles and the other side is Hollywood Hills for miles. God! I haven’t been up so high and outside IN MY LIFE. It made me sick to look down I was so dizzy. We watched the sunset and moon rise simultaneously. If all else blows up on this project, this location.
Wow.
Really.

Something else.

Luckily, however before I was forced to do anything else angsty and lame (like storyboards) I was allowed to leave because I had a valid reason (YAY) my new group and I were having a meeting.

I love my new group.

Have I said this before? I hope It keeps up, but I think we will end up a good team.

And that’s it! Now it’s eleven and I only have to

Make storyboards
Read Annie Hall
Possibly add edits to my feature

suddenly i was @ 01:09 am
(no feathers)

tuesday, november 15, 2005

Is this weekend over? Can I get Ebola?

suddenly i was @ 03:23 am
(no feathers)

sunday, november 13, 2005

We ate Cheezits and pointed out everyone we knew in the biography book. People really don't know the writers so I had to sing the praises of everyone qute loud (except for Porn Guy).
We sat on my floor and- MORE WITNESSES- both, my new producer and director began to dose.

NEW PRODUCER: This floor... who needs a bed?

I'm telling you, it's magic. I really hope it keeps up because right now things are going incredibly smooth.

suddenly i was @ 05:27 pm
(no feathers)

All I can think from the trailer- besides the fact everything is over-animated and characters fidget more than they ought- is I just don't see the interest in the story.
So... the house across the street is a monster.

Oook.

Then we don't we... just not go over there?

Hm?

It makes me want to kill my heart. Who greenlit this idea? THEY SHOULD BE SPANKED WITH A BRANCH OF THORNS.

I haven't seen such a one-trick pony since "The Corpse Bride."

suddenly i was @ 02:36 am
(no feathers)

saturday, november 12, 2005

Now unless he's here and INVISIBLE, something makes me think he was lying. And if this goddamn compnay thinks I am sticking around after 3? They're wrong. I'm going to my film and they are getting a call wherein I demand my money back. 4 weeks and over 200 dollars and I still don't have my fridge repaired and no one seems to think it's important to show up remotely on time.

- Oh, well, what do you know. He's here.

suddenly i was @ 04:10 pm

In the meantime, I totally forgot a huge part of the Costco adventure yesterday! Did I tell you we saw an old man who had collapsed? It was like a movie. Adventure and I turned from the line with the babies and he was right there on the floor reaching up, looking pallid and awful. His wife was on her knees by his side holding a bottle of pills while Costco employees began to gather around. We pushed the cart around and kept moving out the door when suddenly we saw flashing flights and by the time we got to the front, EMT's started running in.

It was interesting. Like seeing both ends of life in the span of 34 seconds.

suddenly i was @ 02:23 pm

For those of you who would just like to skip the summary of my day, here is this delightful distraction: Animation! I am Bigfoot in the morning.

Today was a good day I think. We watched two more group projects, Canada Lad’s ran today and despite his saying it was god-awful terrible I think it was well enough. – Um, especially thinking of what my film is going to be like.
My group is SO on edge. Words cannot even describe. Everyone is a bundle of nerves and when we are all together the air is so tight, so tense, you feel as though if a pin were to drop, the room would explode into angry, heated arguments.
Everyone is miserable and unhappy. The director has taken the script from me (oh, memo to self, I feel the gross need to report this to the faculty), the cinematographer (who, be tea double ewe, apologized to me and explained she was throwing a two-year old “why does she get lollipop?” fit [still doesn’t change the fact I am signed on to pay overbudget dues]) is fit to be tied because the director isn’t cutting any of our set ups (we have 74 currently, most groups have about 12- our cinematographer said tops, tops all she could do physically is 60), the editor is really angry because the director isn’t heeding his warnings and the producer is about to throw himself from the window because A. Since we aren’t cutting scenes we’re going to end up over-budgeting our time and B. Now that the director has the script and is adding more and changing things around he has re-do the entire budget and schedule- which he CAN’T DO because the director won’t stop moving things around! – The director is unhappy because she doesn’t understand why everyone else is unhappy.

Also, we can’t hire anyone onto our project. No one wants to do it. I can’t even convince the writers, but this may have something to do with me shaking my head “no, save yourself” at the same time I am asking them to come.

I, myself, have taken over a new position. I used to be props wrangler or something, but you see- that required me to be on set which is now le angst, so when my producer came worried asking if I would take over craft service (aka the sit and make sure the M&M’s don’t run out position) I said yes. For I will be away from set and can just read and write alone, which is all I want.

Oh, speaking of group angst- check out this new development, Adventure’s group? His director and producer who we all thought took over the script? That’s not wholly true. At their wrap meeting it came to light the director didn’t write the new script, nor did the producer. The producer HIRED A WRITER OUTSIDE OF AFI to write it.

(profound silence).

She hired. Outside. Of. AFI. I couldn’t believe it. Neither could the staff. Adventure, like the rest of us is shelling out how many thousands of dollars, to have someone hire over him? Yeah. I think that floored the faculty who had no idea of the severity of the situation. Other members of the staff were really angry because they felt the system had failed the writer entirely because he had gone to all the people he was supposed to report to and no one did anything for him.

I found this out, for speaking of Adventure, we went on some Adventures again today. This round includes: my home for my computer, Costco, the Children’s Hospital and Goodwill.

I will just breeze through that first item because, hi, it’s boring and involves nothing more than Ad. checking his balance while I lay on my floor trying to not catch a few Z’s. The next stop was Costco, but lucky for us the Costco complex also houses such wondrous places as Best Buy and (jazz hands) Toys R Us. You really have to hang on to the people who can enjoy a good Toys R Us run. Really. At my age? I only know about 4 others and they are the most magical people on the planet. They are so choice.
Our time in Best Buy was spent hiding movies we wanted and looking at microwaves <- someday, one of us will own one. Also, we saw a device called “The Chocolate Fountain” an exorbitant thing… which sprayed chocolate- and only chocolate- cost: 200 dollars. Toys R Us, likewise, was a quick wander. Nothing too special going on in there today.
Costco was hopping. Does that place ever slow down? In Costco we saw a functioning Chocolate Fountain, which was pretty boss. I dared Ad. to put his head into it, but he couldn’t because he is allergic to chocolate (and there is some running theory he might be lactose intolerant, he is testing this currently which is upsetting because now who am I going to get icecream with, yo).
We found gloves to try on and multicolour nightlights and we mastered the two-person cart navigation system as we weaved through the other meandering Costco bodies.
In line, Adventure motioned to the cart ahead of us and said, “I didn’t know you could get children at Costco, but she seems to be buying.”
I looked up and the cart in front of us had a pile of children. Seriously. They had to be 9 months, 18 months… four of them and the mother was pregnant again.
Oh my god. We got the biggest kick from those babies. They were so cute. There was only one girl and she was sucking both of her thumbs at once. She kept eyeing me and smiling when I would wave to her.
From Costco we hopped into my car to find us some Goodwill. I told Adventure I was so proud of him during yesterday’s Mighty Ducks episode.

ME: It was really high class and everyone noticed. I was so proud to think, wow, that person went to the zoo with me once.
AD: I didn’t even know I was doing anything!

- And from there he said what it felt like on stage, said how he got up there and just wanted to laugh because everything was so bad but tried to look as sad as possible (I told him he succeeded admirably and that there was a terrific shadow across his face as well).
I really hope he gets a better draw this coming round. He’s the nicest person I’ve met (and hi, the only person I do anything with outside of school because I have social problems) and he deserves better treatment. He’s co-writing both projects he’s on (I think he was scared out of solo writing) and his partner (also a nice lad) seems really forthright so hopefully that will help matters.
Oh, we (hi. I am supposed to be writing my script right now in case you are wondering why this entry exists and is still going on- I so don’t want to work) also decided on the idea which will make us millions. While at the zoo we came up with the idea all the little birds which fly between the animals’ cages were the message system of the zoo and would, e.g. communicate messages between the kangaroo who is in love with the elephant and such. This will be an animation, anyone who would like to hop on board, you have two writers waiting for some talent.
The first Goodwill we hit, wasn’t actually a Goodwill. It was a thrift shop for the Children’s Hospital. It was a great shop! Adventure found several stuffed animals (“My fuzzy family!”) which he needed in his life, which included this amazing vintage Rolf (the dog Muppet) puppet. I think I found it first and Adventure asked, very slow like, “Are… you… going to… get… that…?”
In a voice you know really was saying, “For I want it.”
The toy was over 20 years old and we got it for a dollar.
Besides his new family, Adventure also bought a mirror and a jacket (p.s. I’ve never seen anyone model in a mirror in a thrift store longer in my life: up close, far, farther, close, with glasses, without glasses, fixes hair, really close, with glasses, backwards, with jacket inside out, sideways, without glasses, far, arms over head…)
Also at the thrift shop they had this AMAZING desk. A school desk from 1900 for $200. I. Want. It. So. Badly.
I am actually considering calling my mom to see if she would spot it. It was glorious.
After this incredibly successful venture, we drove across the way to the actual Goodwill. I do so love that place. There were no glasses for me this time, but Adventure found a nice coffee table so in the end I think it all worked out.

… Theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen. Then what happened? I dropped Adventure (and his Fuzzy Family) off went home, went on a walk then sat down to work and promptly fell asleep for several hours. I then woke up and thought, “crap. I was supposed to remind Adventure to mail me dead moth pictures.”
And because I am mad skazilled in the art of telepathy the phone rang just then and it was Adventure in the process of sending the photos. Again, it’s something magic about finding a person who can appreciate the fine art of talking about the internet on the phone while also browsing the same as you.

AD: I’m sending it now…
ME: It’s not in my inbox yet.
AD: Oh wait, it’s not attached. What is your email? You sent me an email before but now I can’t find it.
ME: Let me send to you while… I’m… here…

But now I have my dead bug photos- YAY and still haven’t worked on my script YA- wait.

The end!

P.S. Words can’t begin to describe.

Visual metaphor for cycle projects.

suddenly i was @ 01:13 am

thursday, november 10, 2005

AS DOES MY INSURANCE COMPANY who have, inexplicably and without any notification- EVER, dropped me! I had no idea. I don’t even know how long I have been without insurance. I am part of my father’s plan. He didn’t know. He wasn’t notified.
Great.

FIVE MINUTES LATER: You have got to be kidding.

My toilet isn’t working?

What did I do karma wise?

This aside, today has been an interesting day. Do my long stories bore people? I mean, I write them out just to help me remember, but you know. Curious.

Anyhow.

So today we were screening more of these cycle projects which I am always complaining about. This week it was Adventure’s team. Now, I believe I have written up that nasty story before- but the long of the short of it in (jazz hands) recap style is this: his producer and director had him write 27 drafts of their script, then usurped him as writer and behind his back wrote an entirely new script. He didn’t even find out from them they had done this, word came by another team member who walked by saying, “hey, have you seen the new script?” to which Adventure said, “no… which is funny, seeing it as I am the writer.”
From there all hell broke lose. Battered, beaten and used- Adventure was then put on probation for being uncooperative with his group because the producer got to the faculty first and only told her side of the story and he’s been miserable ever since. Throughout this week I kept telling him, “be strong!” “it’s ok!” because he was incredibly worried about A. people thinking the bad script was of his making and B. just getting up there in general, he thought he might have to leave the stage because he was going to be sick.
On Tuesday I made him a little card which had a drawing of himself holding a sign saying, “I AM NOT A DOORMAT” along with another drawing which said, “HISTORY ERASER BUTTON” which was for the explicit use of erasing bad, embarrassing or depressing recent history. I then sealed I and wrote, “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL D-DAY” in giving it to him I told him, “open right as you’re going on stage.”
Anyhow. So today was Adventure’s day and his name was still in the credits as screenwriter (they kept it to keep up appearances) and he still had to go up on stage for the critique (the way these work, the team sits in front of the entire class while everyone critiques and are not allowed to speak during the entire session).
I was sitting next to Canada Lad and when the lights lowered he leaned over and said, “Say a little prayer for Adventure.”
We watched the film. I really don’t know how to describe it. I think the ending with the wife sharing a kiss with a call girl who then goes down on the husband while the wife says, “I’m not living vicarious any more, I’m vi-f*cking-outta here.” Really says it all.
People laughed uproariously at the screening.
When the lights came up and the team lined on to the stage, there was a hush. Everyone. EVERYONE knows about what had happened and were worried to see what was coming next. I was also sitting by Bday and R. – a bunch of writers- and oh, if you could see the eyes of the writers. We were all just giving these plaintive looks and shaking our heads at each other silently. It was such a wrong which Adventure had been dealt.
Everyone ran through their names, “Joe, director” “Bob, editor” and when it came to Adventure his voice broke saying his name, “Ad-dven-ture, writer.”
It was painful.
The crit began. Many people said it was really funny, but some said they were confused because it seemed like a comedy in denial.
Which, it was.
It was made to be dramatic, but was so incredibly bad it was funny. So bad it’s brilliant, ring a bell? When finally asked, however, if the comedy was intended- the director said yes. Canada Lad leaned over to me, “liar!”
Hands of a few writers shot into the air to dismiss this claim.
On and on it went- finally, the faculty crit mediator stops the audience, for as faculty he too knows the happenings of this group on stage and says, “I just want to ask the screenwriter, how do you feel about the text which made it to the screen?”

The silence which followed was impregnable, heavy. All eyes were on Adventure. He sat for a moment then just said, “I think the piece was directed very well and was suited for the text which was used.”

“Very diplomatic,” Canada Lad whispered to me. It was really, really impressive.

As the crit ran down, the conversation then turned to “well, they did the best with what they had to go with text-wise” – more blame falling to the “writer.” Finaaly, Bday raised his hand to speak and he was the last person called on, “I just want to say,” he began, “Everyone in here is saying ‘it was all they had to work with’ and things- but screenplays just don’t fall from the sky and I just want to say what incredible maturity [Adventure] is showing right now.”
The house exploded in applause at the conclusion. Canada Lad and I were yelling over to Bday, “Thank you” over and over while on stage Adventure went from sullen and looking down to smiling.
It was great.
At the close, everyone piled out of the auditorium. Canada Lad and I went and shook hands with Bday. “Thank you,” I said again.
When we broke out into the hall way, there was Adventure and he was mobbed by about half a dozen people who just gave him this giant hug. Everyone came around him and shook his hand or hit his back and said, “Good work.” Adventure looked at me and said, “I was pressing my button.”
Then he was called away to a meeting, but the writers stood about a bit more. WE DON’T LET ONE OF OUR OWN FALL ALONE.

It was really great. A. I was so, so proud to say that person on the stage was someone I knew because it took a lot of courage, what he did and when given the chance by a faculty member to rail down upon his team, he didn’t. It was such a class act. Just great. I can’t describe it. I was just really happy in the audience to think that’s someone who would take time to talk to me.
B. I was so glad to see the writers come together first, then followed by everyone, to all-at-once give Adventure that applause. It just goes to show, bad things happen to nice people, but the rest of us still knowwho the nice people are. He was so afraid of people thinking poorly of him I was glad when he got all that applause and support and cheers and handshakes.
I may have been tired, but it just really was a great moment I thought. It was Mighty Ducks and rather touching.

I also met with my new group for my next cycle project. I’m working with someone from Brazil and someone from Finland. It’s way, way early yet- but our first meeting? More pleasant than ANY I have had with my other group*.

* P.S. I think the guillotine just fell with my project. The director asked for the file so she can reorganize the script. Why am I even here?

suddenly i was @ 08:03 pm

Yeah, I know those always go well. This one started out well enough. I was supposed to be released because as the writer I am a dispensable member of the team and I also asked if I could leave to go get some food because I had been at school for 14 hours and was starving because all I had to eat was two granola bars for lunch.

The security guards came down (because we were push 11PM) and said we had to vacate the building. As we were leaving my producer asked if we would sign an over-budget agreement which basically states, if we go over budget we all pay some said percent each out of pocket. My producer then said he waived the writer and editor of the last project because they are pre and post production and therefore really have nothing to do with production costs.
That made sense to me and since I want to pay NO MONEY for my project, because it ISN’T MINE and was a little bit, “hell yes.” Then my cinematographer, out of no where, comes out and says. “Wait a minute. Wait. Hey, HONEY, I’m not the one who wrote 10 different locations into the script.”
It was so forceful and passive aggressive, I seriously couldn’t tell if she was joking but the first thing to drift into my head was the response, “Well, I’m not either.”
But it went on- she We have been allies this entire project but apparently now that she has to deal with the problems I have been dealing with (difficult controlling environment, complete creative energy/ago beating into ground) she doesn’t think it’s fair I got an out and wouldn’t be held accountable to pay for some art department need.
I can’t EVEN tell you how angry this made me. The fact she kept blaming me for the locations of the script. “I’m not the one who wrote this!” she says.
HELLO. Has she forgotten everything we have ever discussed? Neither did I!
I was so angry. We all walked out, I said, “FINE,” signed the paper and said, “I’m getting dinner” and totally blew off everyone in my group.
The only person I feel bad for is the editor. My director doesn’t have a clue why the whole team is frustrated, my producer knows everything and my cinematographer should know why I’m upset and if she doesn’t that’s her problem now because she can find a new writer to talk to because this one isn’t calling to see if she’s feeling all right any more.
I wrote an apology email to my editor and then really honestly said everything on my mind. I just said I was upset because I don’t feel like this script is mine and didn’t like my cinematographer yelling at me like it was. I hope he doesn’t think I am a freak but yeah. Oh well, can’t take it back. I am on such a roll I think I am going to write up my producer and just tell him sorry, but I am not working the extra days he wrote me up for. If he wants to go take it to the faculty, fine. I have all ready filled my requirements, so I would like to know what grounds he’s going to use to file a complaint if he even tried.

suddenly i was @ 03:34 am

wednesday, november 9, 2005

So a few weeks ago I went out with four other writers (Shades, So. Africa, Driveby and two other guys who I don’t have LJ nicknames for!) to get lunch. While we were driving we saw a Thai place which had an translated English name beneath its Thai one. The English sign read: Lerd Rod.

We laughed SO hard. The rest of the ride was spent making lerd rod jokes. I’m sure you can guess their nature (see, sometimes I’m great for off-colour male jokes, see?).

Anyhow. In my script, my feature for class I have a “bug juice” sort of camp drink called, “lerd juice” in honor of my Writer luncheon.
Well, today I was speaking to a few of the lerd-community and one of the other guys said in his sci-fi feature script, “lerd” became a futuristic curse word and So. Africa said lerd too was used in his script to describe a computer-based interface.

Isn’t that AWESOME?

I guess I’m not the only one who does those things any more.

Hee!

Back to drying hair.

suddenly i was @ 02:48 am

tuesday, november 8, 2005

PRO: I have been… what. Maniac. Ma- what’s the word? Procrastinating maniacally all night and I am JUST NOW starting the budgeting paperwork.

PRO: I want to make a project about cycle projects. It would just have the director there up front while in the background the rest of the crew is covering themselves in gasoline and setting themselves on fire while the director is behind the camera saying, “great I have the shot!”

PRO: They expect us to do all of this, TWICE, then give me homework on top of it?- it’s like, when do you think I am going to do this? Sure. Yeah. Sure I can get this reading in, I’ll just read it while I take a shi-t- but you know, even my sh-tting time is down to what? Five minutes? Because I have given up eating, ever.
ME: Um.
PRO: Yeah wow. I think that’s my rant for this morning.
ME: Yeah, please.

HAAAAA. I don’t know, entertained me. We talked until about 6:20, then I said I had to sleep for the next two hours so I could get up and go to class, but he promised to call with a wake up call. – Which he remembered! I did the same for him at noon later on.

OH! By the time I woke up- I was light as air. Sweet and listing as a feather. All I could sing was, “I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Is Gone” and feel like I was moving to this. Seriously, I was dancing up the hall and saying, “Release the hounds!”

Class was all right. I was kind of bored and after all my work all I did was a SUMMARY, but oh well. That way I just glid over the stupid bits.

ME: He goes to the woods and then meh-nom-men-nah…

I also got out one or two great ba-dom-CHING’s. The big questions everyone has the writers asking themselves are the “MOST” moments in their lives. What’s the most shameful moment? Most proud? – Someone was talking about a scene in their script where a bunch of writers (including Mary Shelley!) are sitting around and are goading one another to tell a story. My class was throwing out phrases: “Come Mary, what’s your story? - Book? - Idea”

ME: Saddest moment?

HUGE response.

ME ON THE INSIDE: Oh fer yeys.

After class spilt, Adventure (we’re in the same workshop) asked if I wanted to go for lunch, because he wanted to go to the market. Well I had some SERIOUS happy-block building to do because I had a production meeting with my angst-ridden team after lunch so I said YES.
Just as we were walking out, my producer then ran up to me and guess what he found? MY AFI FEST PASS.
It was placed in some random slot of the mailboxes. My producer was looking for his (we have the same last initial) when he found mine. I seriously screamed.

Lunch was nice, Adventure tried to buy it- but I was faster so I got it this time. I don’t like when people think they owe you! Plus, he bought dinner which was 20 dollars, lunch was only 8.

I covered four v. important points during lunch.

1. I thanked Ad. for my little lecture and said I couldn’t believe someone would try to pull me into line (also confessed I worried about the lecture for a few hours thereafter).

2. In return for his pep talk I drew him a little picture for his giant crit session which is going to be BAD (if you recall, his director and producer had him write 27 rewrites and then just scrapped all of his work and wrote the script themselves without telling him). It’s a caricature of him holding a sign saying, “I AM NOT A DOORMAT.” There was also a cartoon button which says, “HISTORY ERASER BUTTON” with instructions saying if you pressed the button, all the bad history of your most recent past would be erased, in the hopes he could delete his bad crit from his memory. I sealed this drawing off and said, “DON’T OPEN UNTIL D-DAY.”

3. After all of this positiveness regarding dinner, I had one criticism. I said Ad. was NOT forgiven for not saying how GOD AWFUL my hair was at dinner. Seriously, I got home and it was like Cousin It’s hobo cousin George died on my head. What the HELL?

4. I can’t remember. OH. This was dumb. I had to remind him to email me something.

After lunch it was my production meeting.

HI.

ONE. GIANT. SNORE.

I don’t even know why writers have to be there. All we do is talk about lighting and budgets and schedules. NOTHING I have anything to do with. I sat there the entire time fighting sleep. My producer tried to get me involved.

PRO: Do you have anything to add or say?
ME: Well, this is all about photography and lighting, it has nothing to do with the script.
PRO: But-
FACULTY PERSON: No, this doesn’t have anything to do with the script.
ME (to producer): See?

The only bonus of the meeting was I shared some special moment with the special faculty lady.

FAC: This isn’t “Days of Heaven,” you don’t get to shoot during
FAC AND ME: “The Magic Hours-“
FAC (to me): That’s right!
ME: Heck yes, high five.

That last part wasn’t ACTUALLY said, but I felt the mo. was definitely there. Our meaning went on for over 90 minutes this time so I missed nearly ALL of my class. I cam in for the last 15 minutes and watched “The Apartment” and got notes from Adventure. – it makes me glad, by the way, I think I really do have a friend! I have such little confidence, I always figure no one really wants to talk with me, there’s just no one else- so yes! Very excited to have a friend I can talk to who is also such a fantastically kind person to boot.

WHEW.

And now I am HOME and taking a BREATHER—and a nap! I am so tired. I am also so, so, so happy that treatment B.S. is over- FINALLY I get to write and am beyond excited. I am shaking I am so delighted.

suddenly i was @ 07:32 pm

monday, november 7, 2005

suddenly i was @ 05:58 pm

Now back to my TREATMENT. You know, the thing I'm not worried about.

I am so hungry.

suddenly i was @ 06:44 am

So embarrassing.

Afterward the meal went on fine- most of it was spent talking about v. important topics such as: lactose intolerance, M. Night. Shamamamamamamlynn and how married people really do live on a different planet from the rest of us.
Then the bill came and I put it on my card while Adventure gave me paper monies. I looked and saw it was 20 dollars and said, “Now hey, how much was this meal!” and he was paying for all of it! I said no it was too much.

AD: No, it’s all right. I owe you millions.
ME: Oh, well. In that case, honey, you’re a little short.

Still, I feel bad when people say they owe you for “all you’ve done for me” because, well, at least when I do things for people it’s because I’m greedy and like it because it makes me feel good! I do things and don’t expect returns. I don’t want people to feel they owe me and besides, anyone who occasionally calls me on the phone and goes to the zoo with me owes me nothing, ever. So I told him next time, perhaps after his crit from hell, I will pay the paper monies and we can do something nice.

AAAAAAAAAND, that’s it. And now I am back and apparently must write my treatment in a calm manner or everyone will be cross at me (BURSTS INTO TEARS). OMG, that was so embarrassing.

suddenly i was @ 12:25 am

sunday, november 6, 2005

Hi. It's thirty pages.

My current rewrite is at 5.

Kills self.

suddenly i was @ 08:22 pm

saturday, november 5, 2005

AD: I’m a fool!
ME: You’re not a fool.
AD: I’m a fool.
ME: Nay, you’re not a fool because I am the patron saint of fools and you are not of my kin.
AD: Then I am a fool for fooling around with you.
ME: …

HAR. Rite Aide. And that’s verbatim.

What else? Oh, then it was off to the car and the post office and bank. Nothing like governmental errands I tell ya. The post office was fairly uneventful save for the fact I was able to wow the universe with my mad postage guessing skazillz.

AD: How much do you think this will cost? I think $3.50.
ME: Well, let me see. It’s really light so you could send it letter post. If it were me I would just put 4 stamps across.
AD: Really?

What did the price come to? Something like $1.40, aka, 4 stamps across.

Heck yes.

At the bank we really amused this guy with a big bandage on his neck. First by pretend bartering:

AD: I will give you this one coin for that bill. This coin is made of metal, see? Metal is more expensive than paper. What are cars made of? Metal. And they’re not cheap. Planes? Metal.
ME: Paper? Well, you know what you do with paper.
RANDOM BAND AID GUY: Snort.
AD: So just give me the paper and I will give you the metal and I will just go to the bathroom with this lousy paper and you win.

Then I started going on about my group’s meetings. They go on for-EVER and always turn into these giant TMI sessions. This week’s was all about why a guy calls for a prostitute and, also, if after the carnal act does a male like or not like conversation. So I was relating all of this until I noticed the bandaid man was FAR too entertained.

From the bank it was to my place to photograph my moth. Have I told you about my moth? Via eBay, I bought a Luna Moth behind glass and because I woke up on the wrong side of LIFE this week, when it came, the glass was shattered. Well, the nice eBayer is replacing it no charge and I don’t have to send back anything, just have to take some photos for insurance. I don’t have a camera, however, so this is where Adventure comes in with his digital camera.

I wonder if those are going to get emailed to me tonight? I want to start the process of getting a new moth, stat!

I also think I really, really miss my girl friends of my BFA career. My old school was so heavily female all I had was girlfriends. This place, it’s all male and while it’s been an interesting trip into the male psyche it’s really strange to not really have any female buddies you hang out with. Still, I think I am beginning to just pretend the gender lines are blurred and male friends are girl friends, as today I not only openly complained about my bra showing to Adventure, but was also way too excited to share my bug bracelet.

ME: Liek, OMGeez, leT mE shOw u MaH MadD awezom br@celEt!!!!1

Runs off in a tutu.

At this point the nubile adventure was into its tender third hour, I dropped Adventure off to his castle and took myself to Starbucks where I thought I might isolate myself from all distractions and get work done. It only half worked, I am still so stuck in the middle. Then I came home and began wondering about seeing a screening which was happening tonight. I wasn’t going to before and had a meeting with my director, but then I found out it was the first half of this film we have to see and discuss on Wednesday and then I wanted to go. When Adventure called for a ride, it sealed the deal. I finished up some more writing then shot over to his place to meet his new couch and talk to my old friend The Haunted Screw.
The film was really good. I really, really liked it. It was sad because all of the 1st and 2nd year students were invited to view it, but only seven of us showed up- 5 of us writers.
I’m telling you: we’re a good sort.

On the way to the parking lot I walked with Adventure, Canada Girl and another writer from my workshop. I stepped out and said, "Now where the hell did I park my car?" - though mentally I thought bemused to myself, "ha, I know where it is."
We came to the stairs and I offered up a heart-felt goodbye and took off in the opposite direction when I heard Adventure call over, "Didn't you park over here?"

ME: ...

And that brings us to now. I just ordered food and it CANNOT get here fast enough, I am so hungry and it’s pineapple rice- omg, screams.

P.S. I asked my director I could miss the first bit of my new crewing day so I could go to class, she said of course and that she doesn’t miss class.
P.P.S. I complained about my producer’s behavior, to Adventure in his writers’ representative guise. I said I couldn’t turn it into much of a general complaint, it was sort of a personal thing, but I just felt like I wasn’t being treated with respect and I know many of the producers feel the same about writers. Rep. Ad. then told me I’m not the only one and told me about a bunch of other writers who have had the same complaints with their groups, so at least I am not alone, eh?

suddenly i was @ 12:45 am

thursday, november 3, 2005

That’s FINE and LOVELY. My fridge part isn’t going to be here for another WEEK.

I know no one really seems to think this is a big deal, but four weeks without a fridge sort of is. I lost all of my food. All. Of. My. Food. 2 weeks ago and have been living off of warm juice, bread, granola bars, soup and fruit snack ever since.
Seriously? I have cranberry juice, melted butter and ketchup in my fridge. I can’t afford to buy any more meals and nor do I want to, I want to have food of my own. I am so heart-burn hungry all the time it’s ridiculous and I have no idea why it’s now going to become 4 weeks of me being without any way to keep food. I also love how they can’t bother to manage hours.

THEM: We can get to you on Tuesday.
ME: I have class that day, when’s your latest time?
THEM: 1 to 5.
ME: Great. Right when I have class.

Then I call up my producer because I am having paranoias I have somehow overbooked myself over onto our SHOOT FROM HELL WHY ISN’T IT DEAD YET and so ask: “When is our shoot?”

HIM: 19-22nd, but you’re helping the 17 and 18th as well.
ME: Wow, great. Thanks for asking me.

Then I told him I refuse to miss class and he launches into a tirade about how much the producers sacrifice and how everyone misses classes to get these films made (p.s. like I care if these films get made) and how I can tell all the other writers how annoying and selfish it is we want to go to class since we have the easiest job of all the fellows.

WOW.

Really? Tell that to my All-nighter breakdown of a few days ago.

I really detest this sort of statement. Oh. My. God. Woe. The producers have it hard. And they do. But UNLIKE the writers who are used, misused, abused, unheeded and trampled over 10,000 times when the other fellows go onto these shoots, they are actually doing something which will inform their experience. Directors go on to these shoots and actually direct, producers do the job of 6 others, but they are producing, cinematographers actually shoot a camera- a writer? I go and run craft service. I go and I have to get coffee for the actors or clean up a spill or carry something down for the director.
Let’s talk about selfish. Beat a person into submission and embarrassment, then ask them to pick up your latte which they will pay out of their own pocket while you tell them to quit bemoaning the fact they are missing out on the ONE TIME A WEEK they have to talk with others in their discipline about what they came here to do because they HAVE IT THE EASIEST OF ANYONE.

I am so angry right now—I debate whether I should write my representative (also conveniently my pal Adventure). I think I am going to wait on it until tomorrow. Then if I see him I will pull him over and just make a slight complaint. I don’t even know if there is merit to it, but it pisses me off nonetheless and that’s what the reps are for.

STABS AT AIR.

suddenly i was @ 08:49 pm

GIRL: Oh, on your list of people you want to eat?
(I turn)
GUY (to me): Oh you’re on it.
GIRL: You’re number one.
ME: Wait, what is this?
GIRL: What would she taste like?
GUY: Oh, she would be something nice and homemade—something good.
GUY 2: Like apple pie.
GIRL: Yeah, like apple pie.
GUY: But not something so ordinary, but still warm and-
GIRL: That’s true. Apple pie is also slimy, you’re not slimy, are you?
GUY: Something more unique-
GUY 2: Like peach cobbler.
GUY: Yeah!
GUY 2: And I keep imagining something with powdered sugar on top.
GIRL: Definitely.
GUY 2: Do I still have to taste like cardboard? I see myself as a soft pretzel.

So there you have it. A different opinion on me, from a source which is not myself!

suddenly i was @ 01:34 am

wednesday, november 2, 2005

Today, yesterday, was a very, very bad day. I feel like I went from the Ivory Tower to crashing down ON MY FACE.

So I was up all night writing and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting my treatment FROM HELL. I was not meant for writing treatments. For those who don’t know what a treatment is: it’s the story of your script in prose form. Apparently it’s supposed to aid you in the script writing process, which I am sure it does- just like a thumbnail sketch helps you on the way to the painting.

Here’s a little secret: I never do thumbnail sketch.

I DETEST THEM.

You always lack the energy of discover when you start with a separate sketch, then go over and clean up. I mean, I know in a script if you don’t have your Yellow Brick Road out before you it does seem like you’re drowning and swimming in narrative- but that’s what I like.

AND all I know is Charlie Kaufman (my other boyfriend) said he didn’t like and didn’t do treatments and HE seems to be doing half-way decent (and cough is held cough as a genius cough in the art form cough whatever cough).

Regardless, I had to write a treatment. And I was up all night. It was a hard assignment in a format which is foreign and detested by myself.

Normally I would have been gone from my house at 9:30 AM, but by 9:33 AM I was still printing. – And my printer was out of ink.

I’m pulling on my clothes and stapling, swearing up a storm, trying not to cry (I think from about 5:40 AM to 8:35 AM I did nothing but sob uncontrollably, I can’t remember the last time I was so upset over something). At 9:50, with still more cursing, I ran to my car and drove to school like a bat out of sleep deprived hell.
I got to my class, late, sat down and my teacher said, “Ok, well I promised you would go first this week!” and I had to go.
So there I was, handing out my half-printed piece of SHITE treatment to read aloud. The first bit was fine, but by the end- it was so god awful and horrific. I could barely even voice the words because I was so mortified and ashamed I had written any of it. It was a so bad, SO BAD. And malformed sentences and it was bad, bad, bad, bad. I had to stop a few times during my read and swallow some air, because I honestly wanted to cry.

Oh hi. This situation is only aggravated by the fact I sit with my friends So. Africa and Adventure and I DETEST looking so poor in friends’ eyes.

The crit was fine. Whatever. I am ashamed I am alive.

People really liked the writing. The writing was never a problem, everyone seems to think it’s fantastic it’s just my lack of structure and how everything seemed dreamlike (RIP OUT MY HEART).

AG. I could just die. I was so bad. It was so bad.

So now I am Special Education with a panic attack disorder in that class. When we left Adventure told me I shouldn’t be so hard on myself and had I not worried so much no one would have thought anything different about the treatment and I told him to not mock my panic attack because I take them very seriously, then he gave me some carrots because OH YEAH I have no food and had been in such a rush in the morning, I couldn’t get any food or drink or anything.

At lunch (which was kind of lonely and stupid, I can’t stand when you are talking to someone and they just run away and leave you with their bag and you’re standing there for about 5-10 minutes thinking… soo…) it came to my attention I had a giant important development meeting with my group which I had penciled in as being tomorrow.

Hurrah.

And I hadn’t brought scripts for anyone.

Hurrah.

Because I thought the meeting was tomorrow.

So I get into my other class. Sit for about 2.5 seconds then leave to my meeting. There only my editor was on time for our early pre-meeting meeting, which was annoying, because the writer and editor are the two least valuable members to be there early and we were missing class. So we just sat there with our heads on the table.
The meeting went well enough- though long. Because WHY would any of our group’s meetings go fast? Everyone else’s meetings are 15 minutes.

Ours?

90.

So I crawl out of class and drag myself back for the last 15 pointless minutes of my missed class. From there I had to run and get a signature and print out Midnight Cowboy to read when I get a call from my CalArts friend informing me the cocktail party I was supposed to attend wasn’t at 7 as I had written down, but was at 5 and it was now T minus 40 minutes to 5.
I asked if I could get a ride from her, because though I thought it was possible to drive to her place in my condition, driving back at 11 or later at night was just not an option, it would be too dangerous because I was too exhausted.
But she couldn’t give me a ride so I MISSED OUT ON SEEING MY ANIMATION TEACHER.
At this point my heart was bleeding and Adventure and Canada Girl found me and asked if I was all right. God, I was tired. They told me to go and rest.
So I drove home, called up food (got a MASSIVE dinner: alfredo sauce and chocolate, mmm mm. From 0 calories to 7,000,000,000,000,000) and passed out on my floor at about 8 PM. Which brings us to now 7 hours later. I think I can start drying my hair now, then I will just camp out in bed until about 8 AM so I can BEGIN ANEW and enjoy all 13 hours of class tomorrow and just wish I was nothing because I am far too embarrassing to live.

YEY.

suddenly i was @ 06:58 am