Journal of the Week

I did have a long winded post...

My day... blah blah went downtown to audition for something... blah blah couldn't find the bus... blah blah walked from 23rd down 6th to Canal before I remembered 6th ran one way...

The opposite way from where I was walking and needed to go.

Add to this my never-ending-MTA-card doesn't work on the express bus... and I was allowed to ride in the AM by a driver who didn't tell me, and in the PM by Juan, who didn't care and did tell me. A never-ending-MTA-card that covers trains/ferry/bus/express bus is $160 a month. However, the express bus had me in downtown in 45 minutes vs 90 minutes.

Something to think about.

I saw a ton of things I want to mull over, and talk about later.


Until then, it's the (oh, how I wish I could get an echo machine for when I say this!)

JOURNAL OF THE WEEK!!

Yes, that time when I direct my loyal readers to someone else's home page, which is always far more interesting than my drivel... trust me.

Today, I'm setting you up with the Queen of Dry, The Empress of Wry, my friend....

GOLFWIDOW

She befriended me months and months ago, with this acid humour and a way of not letting you feel sorry for yourself...she dragged her mother, L'Empress, into the city with her to meet up with Lisa and Deni and I for lunch... and I was sold.

In the bargain, I was semi adopted, and also got to meet R, who in turn has a great blog, but, it's a locked one... so, I can't refer you there.

Her space here will come.


For now, here is someone who has given me the honour of letting me call her my friend, GW.


Word.

Hats in the Belfrey

Hats.

I was always one to scorn hats... turning up my nose that has a very straight bridge, and isn't meant to be turned up. To do so actually means I have to look down it's length, a skill I've perfected over the years, allowing me to give the Icy Glare. This look has served me well in life, causing cars to stop in their tread, children to stop whatever wrong they are doing, and tourists to swipe and go when they hit the station, without questioning why or where they are going.

I did not like hats. Not big hats, small hats, baseball hats (which had their own special place in my book of hat hell), large brim, snappy brim, red, blue, black, feathered, sequined, knitted (even by me) or with cute pom poms on it... they were horrible.

Sure, maybe I hated hats because I can't wear one. Perhaps it was a deep seated envy that caused me to watch Fergie's wedding, and sob quietly in a corner of my sofa, huddled there not over the pomp and circumstance (and the hideousness of that dress, not to mention her bad hair and the Queen.. who dresses that woman? What is in that purse? A digital camera? A novel by Barbara Cartland?) but, overcome by the plethora of hats, the dignified wave that happened when everyone stood and their heads tipped and bowed with all that haberdashery on display.

My sister/friend, Loo, wears a hat. She does a great job of it, having that certain panache, that ability to match the colour to her outfit, never feeling self conscious about the fact she has a huge amount of stuff on her head that isn't hair.

Of course, she's English, so, that helps.

I even refused to wear those baseball caps when I had a Jeep.

Why? Because I looked stupid, that's why. My face isn't shaped to wear a hat, my head is kind of, well, different, and one ear doesn't lay at close to my head as the other. As a child, my mother taped it to my head.

It didn't work.

I have high cheekbones, and, well, all in all, I look silly. No, I do. Ask my friends. I would put on a baseball cap, and they'd laugh and laugh. Yeah.

The other reason? Oh, it's even simpler....

Hat hair.

That was the other reason. Hat hair. Who wants it? I have enough hair issues to not want hat hair, and once you've got hat hair, you are stuck with the hat on your head.

When I moved to New York City, life changed.

I discovered the beauty of the hat. I embraced the hat. I rolled in my collection of hats, I counted them, made sure I had one in each colour group, and I wore them proudly.

Why?

Because it rains. It sleets. It snows. It is windy, sunny, clear. Because you walk out the door and get stuff, well, right out the door. So, who wants to get in the shower, wash your hair, put in product and then wait for it to dry/blow dry it?

You put on a hat!

The amazing, wonderful, darling, cute-as-a-button hat!

Berets, paperboy, baseball (yes, it's a cap, but, don't split, well, hairs), race car... all kinds! Knit, cashmere, felt... they slip on and slip off, allowing you to look good when you go outside to either pick up coffee or attend a film. You insist you look good, and as long as you don't pass reflective surfaces.. you can retain that delusion.

I do.

I even went to lunch with The Weather Guy... and I wore a baseball cap.

Yes, me.

I'm thrilled to death with the invention of the hat. I may even start wearing some of my vintage ones, when I go to a place where I can wear a pair from my collection of vintage gloves.


What? You don't wear a hat? FMD Get with the fashion...





P.S. My editor in chief was interviewed today... it's a nice read. Hurrah, Emily!

Things I Believe In

Darfur


WGA Strike


United for Peace


Feed the Hungry (simplified)




Please list the things you are passionate about....

Kiss Me

Life changes.

With that, things move on, people move on with no regrets, much affection still in place and I've nothing more to say as far as that goes...

I have expounded on kissing in the past... how kissing is almost sacred to me, and in a sense far more important than the act of making love.

Perhaps the following helps... it is, for me, the most intense, sensual, deep kiss I've ever seen in all my years of film viewing... hell, in my years of kissing, it takes the cake. Every time I see this scene, I sink into it, sighing.

If we could all be kissed like this, just once... well, we women would kiss far more often...with a bigger payoff for everyone involved.

Trust me.

What? It's TUESDAY?

A day off.

I was at a loss as to what to do with myself. Okay, I'm lying. I had spent the night at C's house, content in the fact I'd completed the call sheet for today.. listing hospitals, flight arrangements, shots, wardrobe, props... all of it ready to allow them to run and gun today. So, I knew what I was going to do today once I completed tomorrow's call sheet... nothing.

Tomorrow, they have a day off, and I have to put things together for the following day... and so it goes.

I'd decided to take the bus over the Brooklyn instead of the train/ferry/train/train thing. I saved an hour of mass transit time, keeping the same amount of walking time. This is fine for now...come cold weather? Well, my neverendingmta card will be used more than the only whore in a cowtown.

Okay, that even made me go "EW".

The new bag held it's fill... and reminded me why I don't have big bags... you fill them. Two scripts, a laptop, a change of clothes, pens, pencils, phone charger, laptop charger, coin purse, extra glasses, the bag of peppers and cucumbers I bought in Brooklyn, a few other sundry items and I was hauling at least 47 lbs of stuff. I walked like the Tower of Pisa with osteoporosis.

I am currently saving for a new laptop... a small laptop. At this rate, I should have one by 2015.

While walking and riding on the bus, I had a number of thoughts based on things seen...

• Who had sex on the sidewalk and left behind a used condom? It's not as if it's a dark street...it's pretty busy, with street lights and neighbors who have those blow up pumpkins they will soon change out for blow up holiday decorations.
  

• Have you ever noticed that when you have your palm read, they tell you, "You will have a long life." They never say if it's a healthy one. You could walk out of that place and be hit by a car and live to be 107 in an iron lung.

• Do they still make iron lungs?

• When you buy a Napoleon to eat for snack later on in the evening...don't put it under your laptop in the questionable leather bag.
  

• Why do some stores only advertise in Russian or Arabic? What if I want to buy something there? I'm looking at these places, thinking, "Well, I may want (fill in the blank) but, I don't know if they have it or if they have it and I don't know." It makes my head hurt.

• Why do banks charge $2.50 at their ATM, and McDonalds only charges .99 cents?

• Why isn't there a cents key on the keyboard anymore?

• When did school uniforms get so short?

• I saw two yeshiva students walking ahead of me down 86th. They were discussing kosher snacks at a certain corner bodega. One was in smart, knife pleated pants, crisp white shirt, long dark coat and a hat on top of his yarmulke. His earlocks were smoothly curled, and tucked behind his ears. His friend was rumpled, pants low on his hips, no coat, no hat, his yarmulke slipping over... no earlocks. I wondered if he was the 'bad boy' of the group. Sort of a gangsta Hasidim with his low hanging pants and no prayer shawl, yo! A convert, perhaps? Who knew?
  

• The bus is 90 minutes faster than the train, and you can look out over the bridge. This is fun.

• When some lady says, "Is that your bag?" do not automatically reach for the bag next to you. The person it does belong to will snarl and say, "Do. Not. Touch. My. Lunch." From the condition of the greasy bag and her glinting eyes, I had no intentions of doing so. In fact, from the look alone, if it had been my bag, I'd have left it there.

• Cold in New York City isn't cold in the West. It's colder. I'll leave it at that.

• Remember when sleeping at a place not your own, don't put a glass of water where it will spill on the bed soaking you in the middle of the night.
  

• I like horsechestnuts. I like how they look, the way they fall from the trees, the sound they make under your feet. I now have one on the windowsill of my house to remind me of the days outside, with the crisp air, the perfect red in the leaves, the hint that something is around the corner...but, right now... it's perfect.

• Having your phone ring, and seeing Miss Sof's name on the caller ID.

I made it home, opened my email, and found a nice gift from TheBee.... free food!

Good way to end the journey, good way to end this post. Can't ask for more... well, you can, but, this is good enough for me.

That Was the Week That Was

Last week of Pre-Production, first days of the shoot.

Chaos, time, travel...it all meant no sleep, no posting, nothing but chaos in a controlled way.

I did have time to note a few things while dashing from home to the train to the ferry to trains to trains to the office to locations to sit for 147 minute long hours.

• Love your crew- This one isn't hard...I've been lucky that way, I seem to fall into crews that jell together in a great way. The CD (costume designer), the SD(set designer), HR(her assistant), TP (the producer), PM, who found the stooges and the rest of the 'talent' (the main talent, she didn't find, and he's just a prop that eats) and my man, AD (assistant director) and I are a team. The rest are nebulous beings who drift around, but, the core of us are there... TP floats in and out, however, he has our backs (I hate that saying, you need it in a film). The AD? I'd walk through fire for him. We call this little number, "Heaven's Gate: The Documentary". I'll say no more. I've switched from scripty to 2nd AD, and I'm loving the new job. You have to love or at best like, and respect these folk. And, yes, we have our 'inside' joke... and we use it.

• Bathrooms- You have to find them on set, off set. I prefer public bathrooms against the wall, so you can set down all the bags and such that you have with you safely. Always have a small purse size package of tissues with you in case there is no toilet paper...and I also have hand cleaner. The toilets on the ferry are NOT a good idea in the cold months. They are even colder than the air, thus, they are welcome for one positive thing, and one thing only; they are guaranteed to wake you up if you are still in that "Gee, I wonder what I put on this morning?" stupor when you sit down. If you are leaving the set and have the I'm not really ready to wee, it's a nudge, not an urge yet, wee anyway. By the time you are getting close to Penn Station on your journey on the 4 to the 6 to 42nd to the 7 to the 1 to Penn to have to walk to stage rehearsal.... you will wish you had.

• When Possible, Work in Michael Moore's Production Office-You can be sure of two things:Lots of medical supplies and a really big take out/delivery menu file.
  

• People who will make you whip your head around even when you've proclaimed Ich Bein New Yorker! -Last Wednesday, upon being given revision 472 of the script, the AD and I were walking towards the station down 57th street from the Production Office. Coming our way, in a jaunty stride, was a squeaky clean man, wearing naught but a smile and a pair of navy blue jockey shorts. Since he didn't have on shoes or a shirt, I doubt he was going to dinner.

• Purses on the Street-Hello, my name is Quin. I am a purse whore. I've mentioned this before, I'm saying it again. My budget allowed for either a)veggies or b)fruit. I bought a new purse that would hold my laptop and two scripts. It is a rich turquoise, I bargained it down $30 by getting two other women to seal their purse purchases (and all of us walking away from one dealer en masse to the one across the street) allowing us to all have a nice price. I wheedled the seller down, we all had our, ummm, leather bags (we were located next to a falafel cart....I wonder if the leather had anything to do with the meat sold with the pita that day) and I am again carrying a huge bag. But, it's a cute one.

• Watch Where You Walk in the Street- Asking directions from a post office employee is always a good idea. When you back away from the truck, make sure you look down. Otherwise, you will suddenly realise you are standing on a feather, which makes you realise there are the remains of a slow pigeon just at your heel, which makes you do the HOLY-SHIT-IT'S-A-SQUISHED-PIGEON-WITH-BLOOD-AND-GUTS-RIGHT-THERE dance all over the street to the great amusement of the locals.

• Farts-Here is a news flash. Farting in public can be heard. To the man sitting across from me on the SIRR last Wednesday... pretending you didn't hear yourself toot your version of van cliburn playing Tchaikosvsky's 1st Piano Concerto doesn't mean we didn't. Another hint: standing in a doorway tooting away? Remember, someone (me) may come out of that doorway behind you to go, oh, I don't know, outside maybe? Do not walk up the stairs from the train, making a toot on each stair without checking to see if there isn't SOMEONE BEHIND YOU, JACK!

• The Ocean-The WeatherGuy took me to see the Atlantic Ocean upon my request last Tuesday. Next time, I'll ask to go when it's light outside. He did point out where it was...I saw dark, and took his word. I appreciated the fact he drove far out of his way to show me. The time would have been better spent, I think, at Costco. Or at least, more productive... although I did enjoy the air. And, I saw stars.
  

• Spiders-In the days back in the Land O'Utes, my children, HRH and TheInvestment and I had a ritual with these beasts. The finder issued the battle cry, a mighty squeal of distress. We do not believe in the torture or the crunch of smushing. The other two raced to the scene of combat with weapons, a can of hairspray and a match. Huddled together, we sprayed and lit said spray, frying the spider. We then did the dance of victory, dashed upstairs and watched 'Mansquito' on our DVR. Now, I am alone. While leaving a message to a friend, I saw one... the message went like this: "Hey, when you get a chance HOLY JESUS, THERE IS A SPIDER THE SIZE OF A YUGO ON MY CEILING!!" I was forced to deal with it alone. It was moving slowly towards me on a string...downwards, sneering at me, knowing my troops were far away. Little spider telegraphs had told it of my past murd..kil...removals of it's mates. What was I to do?? I only had pomade and travel approved spray! DAMN THE TSA!! It had me backed into a corner... it was it or me. I took it out with a copy of The New Yorker. I rock.

• Flirting-I suck at this game. When trying to walk with my usual stride away from the train at my stop, it's best to be careful. My brown boots have a slick heel. What does this mean? It means that knowing I was being watched by the nice man I'd been chatting with, I did that usual stride, allowing my boot to slllllllllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiddddddddddeeeeee putting me on my ass. If I was in the back car I tend to ride in, fine. I was in the front car. They stopped the train, and the engineer jumped out. "Are you okay?" "Um, yes, fine... go away" "Do you want help?" Everyone (aka 'Him') is standing there, looking. "Go. Away." "I can call for... " "GO AWAY!" My boot is scuffed, and I now have to wear dark glasses when I ride the train, scouring it for faces that I saw at the windows.
  

• The 1 Train. WTF? There is one train directly from the Ferry into the City. The 1. People will mow you down to dash down the stairs to reach it....only to see the doors close on an empty train as the smiling engineer pulls away. There are signs posted that should read: "The 1 Train will not run at any time convenient to anyone in New York. This means on weekends, when we have it posted it will run, on days with weather above or below 50 degrees, in months with a vowel, or if we are in the mood". That, my friends, should be the posted sign. Instead, they read, "Between midnight and 5 AM, Saturday through Monday, the 1 will not run". Fine. When does it stop running? Oh, around 9P.M. There you are, on the platform, and you see it on the 2 platform. Why? WHO KNOWS? You run under the station, to the 2 platform, and it's back on the 1. So, you take the 2 down to 14th, and wait. No 1. A 2 shows up, you take it... it's packed. You get off on Chambers, because why should any train run to the Ferry, no one lives on Staten Island. The Ferry is late, your card won't work as a transfer any more.. and if you want your $2 back, mail your card in right away. Yeah, like I'm going to do that. My usual 90 minute journey home took 3 hours. I could have flown home to New Orleans by then. Yes, 90 minutes to go 4 miles.

I love New York.


Thing is, I really do.


With the doc going on the road, I'm moved up in the pecking order of the film, I'm now 2nd A.D. I think this means I have more work, at the same low pay. Do I hear the Peter Principle at work?

Off to do one of my new 4,762 forms. The upside? I'll be riding the R. To the D. To Brooklyn.



Booya.

It's Friday Already??

What a week.


And it's not over.


So much to say, no time to say it.... I have to be awake in five hours.

Ghah!