Sooo....the film industry....
Posted on Sunday, 24 February 2013
Firstly, the film is about a married man who has explicit affairs with other men by using Craigslist and Grindr (a mobile phone app). The shot we were shooting was to be the most sexual explicit of the film. The two men are watching gay porn, the camera is behind the sofa, and then one of them dissappears. If anyone knows me. If ANYONE HAS MET ME ...probably once. They can imagine how incredibly awkward I felt. The girl who hides her face when remotely sexual scenes come on in the cinema or who cringes and turns bright red whenever someone starts to talk about such things (LAURA!) was standing there trying to film a gay scene with gay porn playing in the background. What I found truly embarrassing was just how fine everyone else was with the porn - confirming I am a freak - and that neighbours popped round to see if we were alright half way through the shoot and yes, the gay porn was still playing in the background as the director opened the door to an old man. Bless, he is probably never going to come around again. The same thing happened when the Pizza man came - with the Pizza that everyone else ate.
Furthermore, a bong was produced and I was asked if I smoked. Nope. Which then made everything so awkward. The stuck up British girl. And then everyone smelt. From being in California, I now know what that drug smells like. I DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT SMELLS LIKE! I am quite happy being the naive girl who occasionally asks "Hey, can anyone smell like a herby type chicken?" and to think that people will naturally understand my bloodshot eyes are either from tiredness, my operation or, more likely, my overload of chlorine...not that they'll just think I smoke drugs.
We were shooting till 2am when I had to be driven home by people who had been drinking. I had no phone, no money and they had offered way beforehand. What a scream.
To top it off, I didn't know where my house keys were. I was banging on the door of my apartment. Literally turning around and with Cathi Mum's heels tryng to kick the door the way a horse would. I had no phone so I couldn't call anyone in my apartment, or an RA to open the door. I had been texting Laura till about midnight before my phone died, so I was sure she would be up. Nope. I then began to think I could sleep in one of the lounges when I remembered...like a golden angel, Joanne. Joanne would be up. She would be at David's. I rushed over to Geneva and found her, low and behold, playing mariokart at David's. THANK YOU!!!! I used the keys to get into my apartment and saw that fair enough, Laura had been on Skype with George so was even less likely to hear the minotaur who had been trying to break down the door. She very kindly let me have a waffle of hers from the fridge as I hadn't eaten all day. Thank you!
So that was Friday. I am not sure I want to enter the television world in America anymore. I don't know, maybe I am naive but I can't imagine people at the BBC just smoke drugs continually as they work. Whereas in California, as some drugs are practically legal, Betty and Catalina say that it is common and almost expected in the film/television industry. It's just not a British thing to do. When one is high up in a career! Oh but maybe I am being naive...I don't know. It's all a bit confusing.
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