Jaime (from Writers Group) is shooting a short film over three days in Carlsbad. She asks me if I want to do crafty (craft services) and I jump at the opportunity. I’ve sort of done craft services for two other projects but it was always in conjunction with acting and/or producing, so I wasn’t really giving it my all. But I still knew I really enjoyed it.
Basically, the job of crafty is feeding your cast when you’re not breaking for meals. So snacks and drinks are set up for everyone throughout the day. I’m given a budget of $200 and a list of “suggestions” and then I’m off. I can’t figure out if I’m really good at crafty or really bad at it because I want to buy EVERYTHING. And when the writer/star/ producer is a health coach and wants everything to be organic, $200 over three days does not get you very far. But I make due.
Here’s what I learned:
1. I love crafty because I feel like I’m hosting a party. (I get that from my Mom, and if you’ve ever been to one of her parties, you know she always goes way overboard, in the most awesome way possible).
2. People fucking love string cheese. Weird.
3. Hot tea is a stupid waste of money. Nobody drinks it.
4. Every morning you need to get ice and coffee.
5. Tupperware containers are great for serving a smaller portion of snacks at a time. Also, labeling items is helpful (I did not do this) and bag clips are nice to have on hand (I did not have them).
6. Go with your gut. If you think people will want peanut M&Ms, then buy them.
7. Tables are AWESOME. I did not have a single table for the first half of every day. Everything was out of the trunk of my car. Or the ground. Frustrating to say the least.
I guess that’s the main stuff. I did not think it would be as stressful as it was, but who am I kidding? I’m never on set and not stressed out unless I am ONLY acting. When all you have to focus on is your acting you don’t have to worry about every single person around you.
By Monday morning, I’m at my breaking point. Little things are starting to build up and my anxiety is rising faster and faster. I wake up early at my motel and go to the store for final snacks for the last day. I basically throw my budget out the window and buy what I think we need. Then I drive to the producers house to shower and get ready. I actually curl my hair and put on some makeup because I haven’t felt like a person the past two days. But now I’m running late. I placed the call to Starbucks for coffee to be ready at 8:55 and don’t arrive until 9:05. I’m supposed to be on set at 9am.
The parking lot is fucking stupid and there’s nowhere to go. Fuck it. I double park in a fire lane and put my flashers on. Run inside and wait in the longer than necessary line. Fumble with my wallet and my phone and the phone drops to the floor.
I know it as soon as it lands face down. That perfect belly flop. No chance my screen isn’t cracked. I pick it up and sure enough, shattered. My fucking life!
Yea of course I say that out loud. Ever dramatic.
Reach the front of the line and tell them I’m picking up for Lindsay. I can tell, they forgot about my order. So now I have to wait. And curse myself. And stare at my car outside to make sure I don’t get a ticket. And google how much it costs to fix a cracked screen. First number I see is like $100 or some shit. Fucking perfect. Working all weekend on a set and not getting paid and now I drop my fucking phone. You fucking idiot.
The coffee is finally ready and I rush out to my car. Immediately call Kelly to calm me down, because if I don’t get it out now, I’m going to take it out on everyone around me once I get to set. Kelly doesn’t answer. I call Lauren. She doesn’t answer. God dammit. I text Brian. Definitely not going to call him. He hasn’t seen a Lindsay freakout yet. I don’t want him to break up with me after only one week.
I’ve reached the set. I sit parked, refusing to get out and set up. Call Kelly again and this time leave a message. I tell her I don’t know if I’m going to scream or cry and can feel myself starting to cry so I quickly hang up, That was pointless.
Take a few deep breaths and get out of the car, refusing to make eye contact with anyone as I unload the car. I know, super professional. Take the coffee out and oh my God, there’s no where to put it! Shocking. I put it down on the sidewalk because I do not give a fuck. Then there’s the massive cooler on my back seat. Of my brand new car. Because I’m totally fine with lugging that thing around. Throw it on the sidewalk.
Jaime comes up to me (and by the way, Jaime is the sweetest, nicest person in the entire world) just to thank me for everything I’ve been doing. Now is not the time, Jaime! I do not want to take anything out on you, of all people. But being the “transparent” and unprofessional person that I am, I can’t hide it. I try to play it off, but I know I’m not succeeding, because I need to talk to Kelly!
I tell Jaime I’m having a bad morning and I’ll be fine and I don’t want her worrying about it. That’s the last thing she needs. If I think I’m stressed out, she’s 100 times more than anything I’m going through right now. Once I’m as minimally set up as possible, I’m back in my car and Kelly calls me. Thank God.
“Well I am very familiar with having a cracked screen.” How much does it cost to get a new one? “I don’t know, I never fixed mine. I just always lived with it or someone would give me one of their old ones. I have a 4 I can send you if you want it.” I laugh. No. “Oh well excuse me with your fancy iphone 6.” I laugh again. This is what Kelly does. “Is it really bad, like can you read the screen still?” I guess so. “Is it cutting your fingers?” Not yet but I’m sure it will! “You should watch the commercials about the cracked screens. That will definitely make you laugh.” Perfect.
There’s a knock on the passenger window. It’s Jaime. She mouths to me, “Are there any bananas left?” I just look at her, as Kelly still talks to me. I’m defeated. No, Jaime, there are not. I mean, yea, there are 1,000 bananas back at the producers house, but none here. Sorry. Sorry for sucking at life.
I finally hang up with Kelly and I’m OK now. Finish setting up and start to care about people again. We’re here for a few hours before we head to our next location, the 101 cafe, for lunch. Somehow, I’m starving. I feel like I’ve been starving all weekend but non-stop eating all weekend. It makes no sense. And I’ve been eating really shitty. I think I’ve eaten fries every day. I don’t usually eat fries, but when they’re in front of me, I have no willpower. So I eat a beef patty melt and fries and feel like a terrible human being. Set up crafty, again. It’s basically just moving your station from location to location. Thankfully, we’re here for the rest of the night, so I can take everything out of my car and set it up inside. Once that’s finished, I go sit in my car.
Lauren texts me back and I get into it a little with her. Now I’m just feeling shitty. She tells me to go for a run. If only I could. “Chant!” That’s actually a really good idea. Anna Rose recently told me about this app called “Headspace.” I downloaded it but haven’t used it yet, so I try it out. This British guy talks to you for ten minutes as you meditate. Basically, breath. It’s soothing. Sort of helps. Really makes me tired. I pass out in my car for an hour.
When I wake up, I tend to the craft table, refilling and making things somewhat organized. Jaime and Lys told me they’d be putting me up Saturday and Sunday night and that I’d be going home Monday. I find out that a lot of people are staying in the motel again tonight. I definitely am not. I’m done. I hang out until 8:45pm and wrap myself. I want to go home, and by home, I mean my boyfriend’s.
I thought I’d be getting done earlier, but I punch Brian’s address into my GPS and it says it will only take me an hour to get there. Actually, I don’t put in his address, because I can’t remember it. I know the street and the city, but I forget the number. And I don’t want to ask him because this would be the third time I’m asking him his address and I really should know by now. But whatever, it still works with just the street and city. I’m totally fine. Nothing can go wrong.
And now I’m driving. For an hour. It says I’m really close but why am I not recognizing anything? I must be coming a way I’ve never come before. But my set radio stations still aren’t working.
It’s not until I’m “two minutes away” that I realize, I am not in Studio City. I have no idea where I am. I have to call Brian. I ask him for his address and punch it into my GPS. I am two hours and twenty minutes away from him.
2 HOURS AND 20 MINUTES.
Is this really happening right now?? Of course it is!! Brian can’t grasp that I can actually be that far away (and I only tell him I’m two hours away). Somehow, I put in Studio City, and then when it routed it, it sent me to Chula Vista. I still don’t know where that is. I think I started in San Diego, and went an hour south, instead of two hours north, where I needed to go. Literally, the complete opposite direction of where I needed to go. “Why didn’t you just take the 405?” Because I’m terrible with directions!!
And now it’s almost 10pm. Kill me. I need to just go home. I punch in my address. It’s pretty much the same distance away. “It’s two hours if you’re driving like 60. You can probably get here in a little over an hour.” He’s so positive. OK, Brian, I’m still coming over.
And now I’m speeding. And I’m still so far. And I’m running out of gas. And I still need to edit my lip sync. I call Brian back. I miss you! “I miss you, too.” But I need to go home. It’s too late. “OK.” I mean, I’m not happy about it. I want to see you. “Yea. Way to go. Next time you go on a trip just bring a life-size cut-out of me.” What are you gonna do?? “I don’t know. Watch a movie. Eat some popcorn.” I want to watch a movie and eat popcorn! “I know. You blew it. I was all ready for you. I showered. Made my bed.” OK, I’m coming over. “Where are you right now? What exit?” I don’t know…. it says… Oceanside? “You’re in OCEANSIDE?!” Oh my God. That’s literally where I started. I’m back to where I started. This is awful. I’m still coming over.
I proceed to almost run out of gas and have a near-panic attack before finally finding a gas station. Then speed all the way to Brian’s and get there right at midnight. I feel like such an idiot and this day has sucked so bad that I just at least had to end it on a good note. I’m glad I’m here.
In the morning, Brian goes to the gym and drops me off at Starbucks on his way. It’s one block from his apartment so I can just walk back. “Do you have your phone on you?” Yea. “Good. In case you get lost.”
I mean, you can practically see his apartment from Starbucks.
He pulls into the parking lot. “OK, so when you leave here just make a right and then a right down my street.”
He’s a riot, isn’t he?