Happy Smonday /
If I call it "Smonday", it sounds a little more like "Sunday", which means I'm a hair closer to meeting my goal of blogging the same day each week. So happy Smonday, folks.
Last week was utter craziness! I had some major rewrites to do on my short film, as well as Italian homework, flu recovery, meetings meetings meetings and an open house (because our landlords are selling our perfect little house -- BOOOOOO. My roommate and I do NOT want to move again.)
Making a short film is a lot of work -- who knew?! When all is said and done, She Said Lenny will probably end up being eight or nine minutes long...and my business partner and I have been working on it for two years! We were set to shoot the thing this month, but that is unlikely to happen, so we are now aiming for early March. I am trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up (yes, still), which will affect what my role is in the creation of the film. Should I act in it? Should I direct it? [Terrifying prospect. I have so much admiration for my brother, who directed a feature film (A Dog's Breakfast) his first time out of the gate.] Should I shadow a kick-ass director? Should I learn how to produce so that I can get stuff done and not be waiting around for other people all the time? Should I focus on writing and let the experts handle the technical stuff?
It's oddly disconcerting to be 32 (almost 33) and not quite know what to do with my life. It's also kind of exciting. And it's nice to have the luxury of being able to ask those questions.
In other news: a stranger called me a c**t this morning. Always a nice start to the day. I was just minding my own business, enjoying the sunshine and drinking a latte made out of beans, when an angry man with pre-pubescent facial hair came up to me, pointed in my face and called me...you got it...the C-word. I'm not sure where my impulse came from, but I gave him a big smile and said "Thank you! Have a nice day." This made him even angrier. He growled, "There are others like you," at which point I realized that he was out of his f**kin' mind. Which made it less personal, somehow. It was also reassuring to learn that there are other c**ts around -- you know, in case I need friends and no one will talk to me because I'm such a c**t.
Wow. I'm deriving way to much pleasure from the cartoon swearing today.
Have a happy week, everyone. And remember: don't let crazy men on the street ruin your day. I think you're swell.