Yesterday, I participated in the filming of an independent movie. Granted, my only duties were to act like I was at a huge party while the leads acted out their lines. But for free food and drinks......I'm there. Not to mention my uncle's office is producing the film, so I do get to meet everyone and attempt to keep them sane. The sanity part would be the difficult part.
The final beach party shoot was to take place at a popular bayside restaraunt in the afternoon. Unfortunatly, rain set in and refused to give in to the prayer and pleas of all involved. The decision was made to edit the script and adapt the scene for a deck party. After numerous phone calls to area vendors, a suitable place was found with a covered deck and a waterside view. Brief celebrations ensued as that was the last day of production and the scene had to be completed.
I arrived a little before 5pm to aid in setup, directing other extras and general goofing off. The goofing off occured after setup with the two crew interns, director and assistant director. Apparently, the guy with the handheld camera and the guy purchasing extra props were late. So, we had time to kill. No visible damage was incurred by the restaraunt although the owner didn't seem to thrilled that his establishment was half-empty for over 2 hours.
Finally, everyone arrived and shooting could actually begin. I don't think I'm at liberty to revealed dialogue or the purpose of this particular scene......so keep your eyes open for Sweet Good Fortune! I'll be the one holding a Coke in a glass with a straw.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Monday, June 27, 2005
Simon of Space
Simon of Space
I ramble about this site enough to warrant a whole entry to it. So, for all 1 of you who actually read this blog, check out this site too.
Simon aka Cheeseburger Brown masterfully recounts each day's activity through his tiny plastic diary. He is the first person to lose his memory while traveling through a hyperspatial gate and has spent the first 5 weeks of his new life in the brain trauma ward of the hospital. When threatened with a mandatory return to his foreign home and unfamiliar family, Simon panics and escapes into the journey of a lifetime.
Cheeseburger Brown, otherwise known as Matthew Frederick Davis Hemming, has an addictively intoxicating writing style that is filled with humor, intrigue, adventure and pieces of the human soul. He is also the author of I Am A Cheeseburger, The Darth Side: Memoirs of a Monster, and 17 Drawings.
I ramble about this site enough to warrant a whole entry to it. So, for all 1 of you who actually read this blog, check out this site too.
Simon aka Cheeseburger Brown masterfully recounts each day's activity through his tiny plastic diary. He is the first person to lose his memory while traveling through a hyperspatial gate and has spent the first 5 weeks of his new life in the brain trauma ward of the hospital. When threatened with a mandatory return to his foreign home and unfamiliar family, Simon panics and escapes into the journey of a lifetime.
Cheeseburger Brown, otherwise known as Matthew Frederick Davis Hemming, has an addictively intoxicating writing style that is filled with humor, intrigue, adventure and pieces of the human soul. He is also the author of I Am A Cheeseburger, The Darth Side: Memoirs of a Monster, and 17 Drawings.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Welcome home! Now, take them back.
The parental units have returned and I gladly resign my post as interim-parent. These past few days were not terrible by any means, but sleep deprivation has kicked in with an angst-filled vengeance. I concede that parenting is a difficult job, although the challenges with this particular example formed around the basis that I am not the kids' parent. Rule enforcement and delegation are nearly impossible without the divine right of real parents. Especially if you are their sister.
I've learned to love delegation through the years and thought it would be the simplest way to accomplish all the tasks and chores by the prescribed reintroduction. I still believe that I am right, but no one else agreed. It was the unspoken dissent that destroyed my sleep. The possibility of the house in shambles as my parents crossed the threshold was not something I desired as a reality. So, the laundry, dishes, and general cleaning were done by none other than me. The boys did mow the lawn which was a ploy to soften the parents by doing something unasked. Their plan only worked so well.....thanks were given, after which life continued as if the act never occurred.
Mom has not noticed or mentioned the cleanliness of the refrigerator. This confuses, angers, and relieves me. Confusion is a reaction to the obvious before/after visual difference, anger for the lack of appreciation, and relief at the avoidance of a long and drawn-out explanation of why it was necessary. She did however notice the handle missing. My sources have not confirmed how the top portion was broken off, but my bets are on a stray lightsaber blade.
With the return off the parents has come the return of their form of chaos. I awoke this morning to my father flashing my lights and informing me loudly that the air-conditioning repairman was on his way. I was forewarned that the repairman would need access to the attic, which is solely through my room, and would be arriving "early." "Early" did not have a definite time, but my father estimated last night about 8:30-9am. As I rolled over to alleviate the burning sensation in my retinas, I glanced at the large 7 glaring at me from the clock. Must the repairman come at 7am? And should he find that necessary, shouldn't he have the common decency to relay that information prior to the appointment? And if he should find the audacity to wake me early on my sleep deprivation extermination day, shouldn't I be allowed to strangle him?
But I digress.
I had just enough time to get dressed and make my bed before the invasion of my morning. I ate my breakfast while checking email and other blog updates. The dished were put away in the cabinets, dirty ones shoved in the washer, and the hound's water supply replenished.
The repairman arrived and spent 2 hours tinkering with the A/C unit. Apparently, it works better, but I haven't notice a difference in functionality. There was a distinct difference in the appearance of my carpet which was promptly vacuumed to eliminate the massive amounts of insulation tracked onto it. At least I have my room back....I'll let you know when the A/C unit explodes.
I've learned to love delegation through the years and thought it would be the simplest way to accomplish all the tasks and chores by the prescribed reintroduction. I still believe that I am right, but no one else agreed. It was the unspoken dissent that destroyed my sleep. The possibility of the house in shambles as my parents crossed the threshold was not something I desired as a reality. So, the laundry, dishes, and general cleaning were done by none other than me. The boys did mow the lawn which was a ploy to soften the parents by doing something unasked. Their plan only worked so well.....thanks were given, after which life continued as if the act never occurred.
Mom has not noticed or mentioned the cleanliness of the refrigerator. This confuses, angers, and relieves me. Confusion is a reaction to the obvious before/after visual difference, anger for the lack of appreciation, and relief at the avoidance of a long and drawn-out explanation of why it was necessary. She did however notice the handle missing. My sources have not confirmed how the top portion was broken off, but my bets are on a stray lightsaber blade.
With the return off the parents has come the return of their form of chaos. I awoke this morning to my father flashing my lights and informing me loudly that the air-conditioning repairman was on his way. I was forewarned that the repairman would need access to the attic, which is solely through my room, and would be arriving "early." "Early" did not have a definite time, but my father estimated last night about 8:30-9am. As I rolled over to alleviate the burning sensation in my retinas, I glanced at the large 7 glaring at me from the clock. Must the repairman come at 7am? And should he find that necessary, shouldn't he have the common decency to relay that information prior to the appointment? And if he should find the audacity to wake me early on my sleep deprivation extermination day, shouldn't I be allowed to strangle him?
But I digress.
I had just enough time to get dressed and make my bed before the invasion of my morning. I ate my breakfast while checking email and other blog updates. The dished were put away in the cabinets, dirty ones shoved in the washer, and the hound's water supply replenished.
The repairman arrived and spent 2 hours tinkering with the A/C unit. Apparently, it works better, but I haven't notice a difference in functionality. There was a distinct difference in the appearance of my carpet which was promptly vacuumed to eliminate the massive amounts of insulation tracked onto it. At least I have my room back....I'll let you know when the A/C unit explodes.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Stormy Weather
Yesterday began with the buzzing of my alarm at 6:30am, a time with which I am not accustomed. Matthew was easy to wake; Christopher resisted a bit. Reinforcements arrived momentarily, climbed into bed, and whispered, "I love you" in a babyish voice.
"I hate you," smirked Chris as he pushed Joey off his bed. They groomed themselves and ate breakfast. It was a pleasant morning.
I arrived at work with my main purpose already having been designated as "John's perpetual reminder service." That doesn't guarantee that he actually accomplished anything on my To Do List for him. This just created a generalized edginess on my part for the possible blame that could be cast on me. So, I decided to read The Darth Side and Simon of Space for a while.
The rain began soon after lunch and worsened until torrents of water, thunder and lightning plagued the city. Personally, I enjoy a good storm every now and again, but this would easily wreak havoc during rush hour. The final crescendo and climax was felt by all around. Instinctively, I jerked my hands away from the computer keyboard as lightning struck something in the parking lot seconds later. The florescent lights blinked, the computers buzzed, and the floor shook. I froze in my seat. A few minutes later, the sky cleared as if by magical touch.
"You can't do that...I cut off your arm!" screamed Christopher as I returned home later that day.
"I have a robotic one!" replied Matthew as he swung his lightsaber toward his opponent’s head. Chris blocked and retaliated. I calmly strolled past, considering my newfound parental obligations. Deciding what had to be done, I raced upstairs to change my clothes. Comfortably clad in jeans, t-shirt, and a ponytail, I raced back to the kitchen.
"You know you're not supposed to be fighting in the house," I started. They dropped their guard just long enough for me to produce my lightsaber and commence a surprise-attack. Ironically, they're both Jedi Masters compared to my youngling skills. I died fairly quickly. Yet, this game is very similar to a video game: you die, you start over. I managed to beat Chris once, but I think I will have to become Matthew's padawan before I stand a real chance.
The night ended with laughter as Joey, Matt, and I watched Family Guy.
"I hate you," smirked Chris as he pushed Joey off his bed. They groomed themselves and ate breakfast. It was a pleasant morning.
I arrived at work with my main purpose already having been designated as "John's perpetual reminder service." That doesn't guarantee that he actually accomplished anything on my To Do List for him. This just created a generalized edginess on my part for the possible blame that could be cast on me. So, I decided to read The Darth Side and Simon of Space for a while.
The rain began soon after lunch and worsened until torrents of water, thunder and lightning plagued the city. Personally, I enjoy a good storm every now and again, but this would easily wreak havoc during rush hour. The final crescendo and climax was felt by all around. Instinctively, I jerked my hands away from the computer keyboard as lightning struck something in the parking lot seconds later. The florescent lights blinked, the computers buzzed, and the floor shook. I froze in my seat. A few minutes later, the sky cleared as if by magical touch.
"You can't do that...I cut off your arm!" screamed Christopher as I returned home later that day.
"I have a robotic one!" replied Matthew as he swung his lightsaber toward his opponent’s head. Chris blocked and retaliated. I calmly strolled past, considering my newfound parental obligations. Deciding what had to be done, I raced upstairs to change my clothes. Comfortably clad in jeans, t-shirt, and a ponytail, I raced back to the kitchen.
"You know you're not supposed to be fighting in the house," I started. They dropped their guard just long enough for me to produce my lightsaber and commence a surprise-attack. Ironically, they're both Jedi Masters compared to my youngling skills. I died fairly quickly. Yet, this game is very similar to a video game: you die, you start over. I managed to beat Chris once, but I think I will have to become Matthew's padawan before I stand a real chance.
The night ended with laughter as Joey, Matt, and I watched Family Guy.
Monday, June 06, 2005
When the Cat's Away
"Evil Dictator."
This is the sound of my siblings rebelling to my instructions. Never mind that I was simply the messenger of Mom.....I'm in charge for a little while, so apparently, the boys should be allowed to slack off and trash the place.
Overall, this job hasn't been too hard. Exhausting, but not exasperating. The challenge has been a matter of enforcement: I'm not Mom, so I can't do anything. If Chris pushes his luck too hard, then he'll learn to retract that statement.
On a non-sibling related tangent, I discovered the joys of cleaning a much-in-need refrigerator last night. Let's just say that my current headache is probably directly related to the amount of Clorox I inhaled. Needless to say, I'm only so focused at work....assuming that I'm actually doing something...
Positive note: Matt was in the paper this weekend. He's the sophomore valedictorian....we'll see if he keeps his position next year...Congrats, Matt!
This is the sound of my siblings rebelling to my instructions. Never mind that I was simply the messenger of Mom.....I'm in charge for a little while, so apparently, the boys should be allowed to slack off and trash the place.
Overall, this job hasn't been too hard. Exhausting, but not exasperating. The challenge has been a matter of enforcement: I'm not Mom, so I can't do anything. If Chris pushes his luck too hard, then he'll learn to retract that statement.
On a non-sibling related tangent, I discovered the joys of cleaning a much-in-need refrigerator last night. Let's just say that my current headache is probably directly related to the amount of Clorox I inhaled. Needless to say, I'm only so focused at work....assuming that I'm actually doing something...
Positive note: Matt was in the paper this weekend. He's the sophomore valedictorian....we'll see if he keeps his position next year...Congrats, Matt!
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Taking Charge
I don't particularly understand what has happened to me this summer. I feel stifled, I guess. I just haven't really done anything creative or intellectually stimulating. The constant physical and emotional pull from my family probably claims much of the blame as well as my general fatigue from sleep deprivation. Funny how talking late on a cell phone effects one's sleep patterns....
All who know me well know that this situation can't last long without a loss of sanity (assuming its there to begin with). I can't practice for the opera like this either; it'll wear on my voice.....I know this from recent experience. So, I've determined that I must take action: force myself beyond all restraining influences. I need to paint, draw, sing, play, write. Speaking of writing, I am taking suggestions for a pen name....I'm terrible at stuff like that and my name is irritatingly generic. Or, I could just stick with "Sash".....
Anyway, I have to drive to the airport way too damn early in the morning, so I must end this now. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!
All who know me well know that this situation can't last long without a loss of sanity (assuming its there to begin with). I can't practice for the opera like this either; it'll wear on my voice.....I know this from recent experience. So, I've determined that I must take action: force myself beyond all restraining influences. I need to paint, draw, sing, play, write. Speaking of writing, I am taking suggestions for a pen name....I'm terrible at stuff like that and my name is irritatingly generic. Or, I could just stick with "Sash".....
Anyway, I have to drive to the airport way too damn early in the morning, so I must end this now. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!
Thursday, June 02, 2005
European flair
So, I took all my old postcards from Europe and made a piece for my wall. The walls are bland and this is a rental-friendly way to fix things a bit. One, maybe two little nails tops. And I get to daydream about returning to all those places and others instead of doing homework.
Its been rainy and cold here all week. I'm used to 85 degree temperatures this time of year and the daily high has hovered around 65. What gives! Although, its probably a good thing since the AC at my parents' house has been malfunctioning. A have a theory: I kill most house plants (there is that unidentifiable one that's thriving) and AC systems. The AC in my apartment took its good ole time to kick in and my poor roommate about died of heat stroke. I was quite alright since I'm fairly immune to the summer heat....I still wear long jeans. Yet, I'm aware that the cosmic payback will be a bitch since I will freeze to death whenever I visit Jim way up north, probably in December at this rate........but that explaination would fill a whole other entry with its stupidity and aggravation.....
Its been rainy and cold here all week. I'm used to 85 degree temperatures this time of year and the daily high has hovered around 65. What gives! Although, its probably a good thing since the AC at my parents' house has been malfunctioning. A have a theory: I kill most house plants (there is that unidentifiable one that's thriving) and AC systems. The AC in my apartment took its good ole time to kick in and my poor roommate about died of heat stroke. I was quite alright since I'm fairly immune to the summer heat....I still wear long jeans. Yet, I'm aware that the cosmic payback will be a bitch since I will freeze to death whenever I visit Jim way up north, probably in December at this rate........but that explaination would fill a whole other entry with its stupidity and aggravation.....
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Deep Thoughts...
I'm going to sing for a funeral today. Apparently, the church has 2, but I can only get off to sing one. They're both supposed to be huge with "standing room only." I have never heard that phrase in conjunction with a funeral. It makes you wonder about your own life....does a large mass of sobbing people make you a better person? I know these 2 were wonderful people, but still...would they be considered less if fewer came to their funeral?
One a completely different tangent, why does every available man or teenage boy flirt with you when you have a boyfriend? This phenomenon doesn't occur when you're single...wouldn't that help a little? Its just obnoxious now. Not that it would have been particularly welcome before, the sleezbags like to flirt with you all the time anyway...yet, the nice guys wait until the moment of certain rejection. Either way, I really don't care too much, I'm very happy with my boyfriend...I'm just amused by the amount of irony involved in this strategy...
One a completely different tangent, why does every available man or teenage boy flirt with you when you have a boyfriend? This phenomenon doesn't occur when you're single...wouldn't that help a little? Its just obnoxious now. Not that it would have been particularly welcome before, the sleezbags like to flirt with you all the time anyway...yet, the nice guys wait until the moment of certain rejection. Either way, I really don't care too much, I'm very happy with my boyfriend...I'm just amused by the amount of irony involved in this strategy...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
