I have to take the bus to writing group because Mike has the car. It starts off OK, but the closer we get to Hollywood, I swear, the weirder it gets. First, a transvestite walks onto the bus and I can’t help but do a double take. He/she is dressed to the max in a short skirt and high heels. First I thought it was a woman, but no, definitely not. Oh and here she comes (I’m going to refer to her as she since that’s what she wants to be) and sits down right next to me. I look down and check out her thighs. Total man thighs. Pretty crazy. I get the feeling she’s probably cool as hell.
My first transfer goes smoothly, but now on the second bus I’m not exactly sure where I’m supposed to get off. We stop at Santa Monica Blvd. I think this is where I get off, but the directions I wrote from google maps says I should be on the bus for like another 20 minutes. What do I do?? I stay on the bus. Mistake. Now at every stop I’m trying to figure out where I’m supposed to get off. I’m looking at the map in my phone, when I look up and make eye contact with this lady. I’m sitting in the front, in a seat facing ahead, and she’s in the seat directly in front of me – her seat facing toward the middle, or the aisle of the bus. There was another lady just sitting there, but she got off at the last stop, and this lady immediately took her seat. She takes my eye contact as a sign to start talking to me. “Oh my God, that lady was staring at me and so I moved and then she was just staring at you.” Oh really? I didn’t notice. “Yea, it was freaking me out. Why are people so crazy?” I kind of shrug my shoulders. Well, there’s crazy people everywhere. “I guess. I’m just trying to do my best, you know?” Yea. “I work hard and they don’t even care. Like what am I supposed to do? I’m trying my best.” Oh God. I “yes” her again and keep looking at my phone. Listen, lady, I don’t need your crazy in my life right now. She keeps repeating herself, ending every sentence with, “you know?” If I didn’t know when to get off, I do now. Next stop.
I’m on freaking Hollywood Blvd, land of the crazy. Christ, how did I end up here? I try to figure out where I need to go. I find the 780 bus stop. OK. 10 minutes later the bus pulls up and I jump in to talk to the driver? Hi, does this bus go to Santa Monica and Fairfax? “You want to be on the other side of the street.” Of course I do. I cross the street and walk up a few blocks to the correct stop. There are superheros and drag queens and every tourist trying to take a picture with them. I don’t get it. Text Kyle. I’m fucking lost. “I’m on my way, I’ll pick you up.” He’s the best. OK, the bus should drop me at the corner of Santa Monica and Fairfax. It does, thank God. We make it to group right on time.
I had to re-write the Doug-Heather script (let’s just call it that, for now). I sent it to Dane early last week and he said he’d forward it to all the people who basically make the decisions about producing my short. He apologizes as soon as I walk in, telling me he forgot until last night, so no one has read it yet. So we read it tonight.
They all seem to generally like the changes, but still, it needs to be better. It can always be better! No matter what script you write, there are always ways to make it better. It’s too “on the nose.” Ughhhhh I can’t get away from being on the nose. Frustrating. And whenever they point it out to me it’s clear as day. I just think, how did I not see that?
Then Dane starts questioning me. “Do you want to direct it or be in it?” I just want to be a part of it. “That’s not what I asked. Do you want to direct it or be in it?” Whoever is best for the part. If you do a casting, I want whoever is the best. Zach interjects. “Yea but you’ll know the character better than anyone else.” Dane asks me a third time. “Do you want to act in it?” Yes. Christ, yes. Why was that so hard for me to say? Of course I want to act it. Part of the reason I’m not jumping on it and owning it is because if there is a better actor out there for the part, then I want her to do it. But the bigger reason is definitely that I’m nervous I won’t be good enough. These people haven’t seen me act yet. I don’t want to be a disappointment. And I really want this short to be something I’m proud of. This is where my other side starts kicking me. Shut up! What are you talking about? You’re an actor first, a writer second. You want to act in this. You wrote this part thinking of yourself doing it. Stop being a little bitch and go for it. OK, OK, I know. Geez.
Even though they’ve given me more specific notes this time, it could still go in a number of different directions. We’re definitely making it, but I still have a lot of editing to do.