This'll teach me to fly from now on. Fly everywhere. We have the technology, I have the dough, but I'm forever stuck in the student economy mindset of being uber-frugal. So rather than booking a $750 flight from Vancouver to NY, I booked a $400 flight from Seattle. And rather than taking a $100 flight from Vancouver to Seattle, or the $41 shuttle from 4 blocks down the road from my apartment to SeaTac airport, I took the $23 greyhound to downtown Seattle, and the $1.25 city bus from the bus depot to SeaTac. I left Vancouver at 8 pm. I arrived in Seattle at one in the morning. This is fodder for future underbelly projects. I keep telling myself that.
Over at the city bus stop, the drivers were clearing the last of the crackheads off the bus before it started it's route back down Federal Way. But before I got on the bus, a truck pealed into the parking lot, a scorned woman jumped out and started chucking luggage out of the back of the truck as a sadsack of a guy climbed out, all apologies. (See how I did that? I dropped in a Nirvana reference because it was Seattle. I think I'm still drunk from last night.) She then pealed back out of the parking lot, leaving him behind. Shoeless.
No 1 a.m. city bus ride would be complete without the Tourrette's passenger, and ours came in the form of a Chinese woman who was damn pissed about the fact that there are 650,000 people on welfare in Seattle. Not sure if this is a proper statistic. She ranted for the whole ride.
SeaTac airport. 2 a.m. Slept for about 1/2 an hour inches away from a suspect piece of lettuce that looked eerily foamy. But this was the best spot in the whole place. Checked in for my flight at 4:10 a.m., then went through security. Got to JFK at 6 pm (short stop in Atlanta), hopped in a cab with a chatty Jamaican driver. He dropped me at 7th and Carroll where keys were meant to be awaiting my arrival at the downstairs video store. Only: no keys. No roommate. Dragged my bags down to Pastore's place and everything was made right when we went up on the rooftop, Pastore, Karim and me, and we drank beer while the city dropped temperature. Then to Great Lakes with more folks, including the boy, for yet more drinks. Every drink kept me awake for that much longer, so I ended up drinking for England and plugging the jukebox. Then to the boy's swank Carrol Gardens apartment and I can't remember much more of that night.
Today: soft boiled eggs. keys. shower. the park slope flea market. And now: a well-deserved nap in the heat. I never want to leave.
I have little to complain about. Take this for example: at the moment, I'm having a steak and cheese omlette, and freshly pressed carrot/apple/beet/ginger juice from our catering truck. Today is the last day of shooting on my script. Two weeks ago when it started, I went through meltdown. I paced a trench in the studio, I chewed off nails, I was a complete neurotic wreck and I couldn't control the flood of emotion: extreme happiness and extreme grief rolled together in my brain. Along with this weird emotion that I guess could be called pride. Haven't felt that for so long that it took me a while before I could isolate what it was. Then the descent into a week's worth of self-doubt and flagellation and feeling like I'm in over my head. That has passed. A rewrite was well-received, as were notes on another script. My head is back in place. And my vacation starts in 8 hours.
1. Today, my script goes to camera. This is the first live-action script I've written that's actually going to camera, the first 60 minute script I've written, and the first time I've been able to put the phrase "I'm not gonna pull it out of my ass" into someone else's mouth. I'm this [] far away from writing porn.
2. Today, I finally realized we have a handicapped bathroom. Privacy, thy name is handicapped.
