And So It Goes

Sunday.

Up at 5A to try and wake up after finally falling asleep at 2A, a brisk walk in the dark down to a bus stop I've never used only to realise after the bus passes I'm on the wrong side... cursing as I speed down towards the main road in the hopes of catching a second bus that will take me to Brooklyn, I manage to actually catch my original ride...he'd stopped for coffee. Hurrah for MTA bus drivers and their need for caffeine.

Reading the script again in the flickering light overhead, noting the continuity issues I found, we all had to wait for him to give out our transfers one by one... and I stepped off in time to hear the 'R' leave the station. Long, long wait.. the 'R' takes forever, it seems. Seven stops, up to Union, where in the middle of run down apartment houses and auto repair shops and one lone casket manufacturing company is a clean, modern hotel.

Go figure.

The restaurant is blocked off, ours ever Sunday and Monday for the shoot... the crew are all used to working with each other.. they've put out four or five small, independent films, two which have made some minor waves in the festival circuit. I'm brought in as a floater, script supervisor, set continuity, 1st AD. I like the change up, the variation, it will keep me busy, and it's far different than I'm used to... very loose, very laid back, everyone is edgy and we've all gone without sleep.. me because I'm stressed, the crew out of nervous energy.

We are a good fit.

Two scenes, slated and marked in a way I'm not used to, but, I figure out the directors way of doing things, set up the slates, and take care of business... "Quiet on set! Camera ready? Sound ready? Scene 13, Take 3.... "

Slate.

We knock out 10 minutes of dialogue in five hours, with a minimum of takes. Close ups are done, and we are out of there.

Home to the party upstairs at my landlord's house, where I find my old friends J and MA, who found this place for me. We all have 'punch' and more food than I've seen since I left the UK. Giants fans, they yell and scream and moan and curse... I'm worried if the mighty Giants lose, my rent may go up.

Thankfully, they win, and I get a nice new glass with a Giant's helmet engraved on it, so, now I have a glass to go with my cup and my plate and my bowl.

Hurrah.

Some writing down, some worrying about a good friend, long thoughts about what is going to be in my life, accepting I will soon have a hole there I honestly didn't think would bother me as much as it's going to bother me. I spent time speaking to a friend about men, and how so few of them over 40 have the same attitude of the Weather Guy, who said once (paraphrasing here) "I can have sex with a girl in her 20's, but, what would I find to talk to her about afterwards?"

The man is brilliant.

It's not that they aren't smart and funny and lord knows they are firm and beautiful... still, there is something to be said when you've got 20+ years difference....

Long day tomorrow, late afternoon shoot, which means a late night home on the R to the bus to home. I don't like those nights, but, it's my job.

Letters to friends who don't answer, and you wonder if it's because of work or something else... and that, too, adds to concerns.

There will be a guest blogger this week, my dear, good friend, Golfwidow. Go have a look at her blog, please... in fact, I'm asking everyone who reads here, go look at her blog.

I'd consider it a favour.

Thanks.



Our Neville Fact:

Our Neville and Margaret both secretly voted Labour Party in the last election.