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Spit Currency

I asked my sister if I could go to the after party of her TriBeCa Film Festival film opening. It was my mom’s idea. She thought I could make connections. Sis said no. I was shocked. It hit me. I realize that I don’t have “currency.”

It was a friend of mine who hipped me to the notion of “currency.” The same friend who wouldn’t put me on to her son, regarding the film he’s in.

It’s the notion of not being relevant, important, having anything to offer; worth even being spit at, lol. My phone doesn’t ring, no job related emails… I get it. Sucks that it’s my sister.

Girl Interrupted By 9 Minutes - Adult Swim

Every Spring, I see a centipede in my apartment. Most often on the wood floors. But this morning, I saw one in the sink in a pan. (How did it get there?) Even after I filled the pan with water, it rose mightily and fought it’s way out. (Why didn’t it drown?) Finally, I flushed it down the drain (I wonder if it’s still swimming somewhere, maybe in the Atlantic…) What a will to live! I’m just the opposite.

Yesterday, I was in heaven… for 9 minutes. I got an email about a commercial — 3 days of work! Immediately I thought, “a grand for New Hope.” Then exactly 9 minutes later, the same contact emailed me to say that she had, “made a mistake, the position has been booked already.” Basically, that means that the first person who responded to the email got the job. And that wasn’t me.

Okay, fair enough. I led myself into a pep talk about “normal, acceptable reactions.” What happened is quite normal. How can I profess to want to freelance if I can’t take disappointment? Ahhh, but I haven’t worked as a designer since October. So no, there was no normal reaction.

First, there was incredulity at a lack of invisible, magical support. Yes, a force that would have GOTTEN ME THE JOB BECAUSE I NEED IT AND I’M GOOD!

The there was inconsolable crying (for hours) with a little “New Hope Sully” thrown in. Yep, I figured I better find the ravine under the train trestle in New Hope where I can swallow a bottle of pills and maybe drown myself, “just in case.”

Then for good measure, I tried to strangle myself with my own bare hands. Not possible. Can a sharp fingernail rip through to the jugular? Nope, God is unbelievably smart.

There’s nothing worse than feeling hollow, trapped, hurt and agry. How do you feel that way and keep interfacing with others?

Somehow, I managed to put on the Gayatri Mantra and listen to it continuously. That calmed me down. I also took a B-12, a Zembrin and a GABA. I found some weed and smoked a mess of that too. Hey, it could be heroin and liquor but I don’t do those.

I played a couple of other ancient Indian mantras for the rest of the day and got my personality back. Close call though…

Exciting!

Almost hitting the $1,000 mark in my savings! Exciting but not nearly enough! I need to save $2,00- $3,000 more dollars by mid-June. That’s about 8 weeks.

Rounded off very generally, that’s:
$1,000 to keep in savings
$1,000 to take in my hand to New Hope
$1,000 for crucial things I need to take care of before I go (this category, unfortunately and ironically, is the least important)
$1,000 for three months of rent.

I saw someone express hatred toward another today. It wasn’t violent but it was old. My allegiance was expected, like a game. I refused. Why should I let go of my freedom? I’m free to feel the way I want. But I’m a hypocrite. I feel very negative toward many people; all the ones who f’d me. And I also expect allegiance.

… believe half of what you see … and none of what you hear.
Marvin Gaye
This totally relates to the last several days I spent at my mom’s house binge watching TV. She loves the talk shows and news. All I could think of was hype, hype, hype. Rich people in expensive clothing with fake smiles and barely detectable insincerity. And yes, I’m hatin’. On the real though, it’s just all so inane and vapid.

Screw It!

Made the decision to pack up my equipment, tools, clothing and everything related to costume design. Oh, and by the way, don’t believe for an instant the “do what you love” SUPER BULLSHIT! Who the fuck even made that shit up!

I carefully crafted two outstanding cover letters for indie features and mailed them weeks ago. Nothing. I should have at least scored an interview!

Equally insulting is the fact that my best friend’s red hot kid is in an indie, also filming in NYC. I asked her if she thought he could put in a good word for me with the director, since he’s “hot” right now. She was like, “this is his first role in a film, maybe the next one. And oh, his co-star probably has a stylist that the director will use.”

Really? As much as I’ve done for him and her. I’ll skip the details but I’ve done what 99% of the rest of the world would NEVER do for them, multiple times. I don’t need a reward but guess what? She /they should have been the one(s) to say, “hey, this is the perfect opportunity for _______. Let’s brainstorm together with her and see how we can help her out. Maybe we can give the director her résumé or slip her his email… Maybe she can help out on set…” I don’t know. Figure it out! I’ve helped figure out their shit for years!

Screw it!

A director and another great film contact won’t return my emails.

Screw it!

All I want to do is get the hell out of here, in the hope that, maybe, with enough begging, the Universe could support me in SOME FUCKING VOCATION!

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