Don’t usually want breakfast but was absolutely desperate to
eat at call. Put a breakfast burrito in a brown box. Arrived on set, which was
a basketball court today. High school pep rally.
I interviewed for a job two weeks ago and never heard back.
It was a job everyone said I would get. I would have to leave this movie if I
got it. My bosses mourned my departure preemptively and then we all said
nothing when my “last” day came and went. My manager left word with the main
exec with no response, no response, no response. She said that meant I might
get it. Did she really think that or did she not want me to be mad? But why
would I be mad at her?
A person who was in the interview room was at the fake high
school pep rally because everything is intertwined that way. I didn’t know what
he’d say to me or what I’d say back, if we’d say anything at all.
I sat on the bleachers with our costume designer who read my
horoscope. It said I was drowning under falsities. I said, “Yes, I am. I just
want someone to be honest with me.” She said, yes be honest. I said I love
honesty but LA doesn’t.
This person avoided me. I felt a gloom roll in. Confirmed. I
wasn’t hired and I was to be pitied. I
had to stand close to the scene to pitch alts. Right in his eyeline. He never
looked over. And then randomly he cut loose from his mark, marched up to me,
and gave me a huge bear hug. I wasn’t expecting it, and I didn’t like it. Then
he said he was sick. Then he walked away. It’s like he planned a bunch of tactics
for getting around my disappointment and did them all at once. It was gross. I
was mad. Costume Designer saw it all and sang in my ear, “hooonesty.”
I tried to stay busy in my seat, but he sat right in front
of me. I felt heat from my whole being willing him away. I finally stood up and
closed myself in a port-a-potty to cry. An extra, dressed like a cheerleader
barged in. The lock didn’t work. Grief texted me, asked if I was hiding.
In ten minutes he was gone. I barely kept a lid on my anger.
My manager emailed me, “They’re not moving forward at this point.” Just say I
didn’t get it. She emailed me five minutes to later to set another interview
for another show. To be honest, a very very similar show. I accepted the
meeting.
Shooting a romance scene the next day that wasn’t quite
there. AP pitched me lines, I pitched lines. She sent me a clip from a John Hughes
movie. When we found what it was supposed to be we both squealed like This Is
It!
It rained on and off. I saddled up to the twins in another
department to talk about past failures. Left partway through to get a two
tamales. I squeezed lime on them. Later I ate two hot dogs with mustard. I’d
had two soy tacos for lunch. I ate more in that one day than in a typical three
day span.
A fake marching band performed a Mighty Mighty Bosstones
song. I brought up a discrepancy I saw in the shooting. I was impressed with
myself for having the ability to defend a script to people I admire.
An extra in the hot dog line had asked how much the food
was. Free of course. She was so happy. It was the best day ever for her. She
gets to be a dot in a movie.
By the time I got home I had a migraine and went directly to
bed. It wasn’t gone when I woke up. If I moved I puked. Things were this way
for two days. Thursday night I had the
strength to walk to the grocery store for a box of Saltines and Pedialite,
which I drank on the sidewalk. I made an impromptu visit to the Thai massage
spot. I told them my head hurt so badly I couldn’t stand the light from my cell
phone. The lady dug into my neck for an hour, I hobbled home, and fell fast
asleep. With an eye mask on like some kind of Victorian lily.
In the morning I was new. I had an interview at 3. It was
raining, but I couldn't stop smiling. The people were so welcoming. They’re going to be honest with me. When
I find out if I do or don’t get it. I drove to work for an overnight shoot. I wore my biggest down jacket and ate a sweet waffle at 2 AM.
