Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Sometimes, it just takes time...

To sleep.  I find myself wake at stranger and stranger hours.  Most of the time I simply can't sleep until early in the morning.  Until I am with a particular person and then I pass out like I haven't slept in ages. It's rather annoying.

It's so cold outside and I am currently forced to stay in a trailer due to severe allergens.  I suppose I just need to find another place that doesn't have a basement.  This will also take time.

I have waiting for auditions.  They sometimes take ages to hear back about and by the time you do hear back you haven't got the part.

With all this waiting, I hope something good is about to happen.


Saturday, January 12, 2013

Late Night Script Writing

Heard this song and this story came to mind.   Yes, I know, tragic.  WHY IS SAD SO FUN?!

Shame On Me

INT.BEDROOM.NIGHT.
Rayne walks into Oliver's room in a pair of long flannel pants and a t-shirt.  She smiles at him.  Oliver is on his computer in bed, wearing his boxers and a t-shirt.  He has headphones on and nods a moment listening to the music.  He makes a note or two on a piece of paper.  Rayne climbs into bed with Oliver.  She rolls over to one side, tightly curls into a fetal position and closes her eyes.  Oliver looks at her and turns the computer off, climbing out of bed to place it on the table at the foot of the bed.  The clock next to the bed flashes 4:00.

OLIVER
I gotta get up at 8:30, so I gotta get some sleep.

RAYNE
I know.  I gotta get out at 11, if that's ok?

OLIVER
Yeah, just put the key under the mat.

Oliver turns the light off and jumps into bed, slipping his feet under the covers and placing a hand on her hip familiarly.  Her eyes snap open.

OLIVER
Good to see you.

RAYNE
Good to see you too.

Oliver lays down on his back.

OLIVER
It's nice to have someone in my bed for a change.

Rayne laughs.

RAYNE
Whatever.

OLIVER
What kind of person do you think I am?

Rayne doesn't answer.  Oliver laughs hesitantly and puts a hand on her back.  She pulls away.  Pause.  Rayne rolls onto her stomach and stares at him.

RAYNE
Seriously?  No one ever sleeps with you in this bed?

OLIVER
You're the only one.

RAYNE
Bullshit!

OLIVER
Seriously.

Oliver puts a hand in the middle of her back.  Rayne tenses for a moment.

OLIVER
I am up all night.  It's nice to have someone here.  A warm body.

He begins to rub her back soothingly.

RAYNE
The entire female population wants you and you can't get a bed buddy?

Oliver's hand rubs lower on her back.

OLIVER
Well, most people work during the day.  I work nights and weekends.  It just never pans out.

RAYNE
So you come here and sleep alone every night?

OLIVER
Yup!

RAYNE
Who was the last girl to sleep in this bed?

OLIVER
You.

RAYNE
8 months?  You gotta get out more.

Rayne rolls over to her side and looks up at the ceiling.  She notices the sheet of paper she wrote her name on is still on the ceiling.  It's now in permanent marker.  She smiles in spite of herself.

RAYNE
Did you fix the holes in your ceiling?

OLIVER
No.

RAYNE
I hate that I can't see without my glasses.  Why haven't you.

OLIVER
There's a good memory in that piece of paper on the ceiling.

His phone lights up.  He grabs it, turns it on and there is a picture of a naked woman on the screen.  Rayne looks at it.

RAYNE
Did you sleep with her?

OLIVER
Once.

RAYNE
Has she ever been here?

OLIVER
No.

RAYNE
Did she want to?

Oliver puts the phone down and places an arm around her waist, laughing.

RAYNE
Don't try to change the subject.  I invented that game.

OLIVER
I suppose it didn't matter.

Rayne
Why?

OLIVER
Because I didn't want anything else from her.

RAYNE
I think you got bored.

OLIVER
Maybe.  

RAYNE
I will try never to bore you.

He hugs her.
OLIVER
I really am glad to see you.

She tries to keep her distance but he slowly pulls her close to him as he talks.

OLIVER
You're wearing that shirt.

RAYNE
Yeah.  I thought it was special.  Then you ruined it.

OLIVER
I'm sorry.  

RAYNE
Seriously.  Never tell a girl you gave other women your shirt.

OLIVER
I didn't expect to still know you.

RAYNE
You underestimate me.

He pulls her in and kisses her.  She pushes back and stares at him.

RAYNE
This was a bad idea.

OLIVER
Yeah.

RAYNE
I should go.

OLIVER
No.  You shouldn't.

She kisses him.  Rayne's phone lights up with a text.  She ignores it.

INT.BEDROOM.DAWN.
The first rays of blue light filter through the window.  Rayne thrws her feet over the side of the bed, pulling a t-shirt over her head.  She looks at her phone for the time and notices the text.  Avery:Hey babe.  Miss you.  Can't wait to see you again.  Good luck.  I know you'll be great.  Rayne stands up quietly and walks to her bag on the floor.

Later:

Rayne finishes putting on her make up in a small mirror.  She grabs her purse and notices her underwear next to Oliver's side of the bed.  She picks it up quietly.  He stirs anyways and she continues on her routine, picking clothes up off the floor.

OLIVER
Hey!  Climb back in.

RAYNE
No Oliver.

OLIVER
Why not?

RAYNE
I should go.

OLIVER
It's 6:30.

RAYNE
And you need sleep.

After gathering her things and shoving them viciously into her bag, she gives him a half hug.

RAYNE
Thanks, you're awesome.  Have a good one.

OLIVER
Is something wrong?

He grabs her arm.
RAYNE
Yes.  Something is wrong.  Something is very wrong.  But I have it figured out.

She pushes his arm off and picks her bag up quickly.  She stops at the door.

OLIVER
Did I do something?

RAYNE
Yes!  Why yes you did!  The power of the pussy compelled you and you did something.  I am not saying that I am without fault.

Oliver grabs pants and a shirt from the floor and starts to put them on.

OLIVER
OK!  You only start talking like this when you are about to run.  

RAYNE
That's not true.  I talk with certain level of intelligence...

OLIVER
You're rationalizing.

Rayne walks out the door as fast as she can.

EXT.OLIVER'S HOUSE.DAWN.

Rayne walks out the front door.  Oliver runs out in hot pursuit.

RAYNE
Just stay in the house!

OLIVER
No!  You are going to tell me what's going on.

He grabs her.

RAYNE
Let go of me man!  I just want to get out of here and pretend this never happened.

OLIVER
What is wrong?  We have sex once and you freak out like...

She gets hysterical and he tries to hold her up amidst her tears and beating on him.

RAYNE
I'M FUCKED UP!  I think it's you that makes me this way!  Every stupid thing!

OLIVER
You aren't making sense.

RAYNE
I wanna die!  I never wanted to hurt him.  WHY CAN'T I BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE AND BE HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE?!

OLIVER
Stop being so damned over dramatic.  You aren't making any sense.

RAYNE
I WANNA DIE.  I did this!  Why did I do this to Avery?  I knew this was going to happen...

OLIVER
Who the hell is Avery?

RAYNE
I can't even stay faithful to my boyfriend for five minutes while you're around.

Oliver lets her go and she falls to the ground.

RAYNE
I am a horrible fucked up bitch.

OLIVER
I didn't know.

RAYNE
It doesn't matter.  I knew.

OLIVER
Get off the ground.  This is not a good look on you.

Rayne grabs her bag and starts to crawl away.  Oliver picks her up.

OLIVER
Get the hell up.  The neighbors.

RAYNE
Don't talk to me that way!  I don't care what they think.  Just let me crawl back to my hole of whoredom.

OLIVER
Your hole of whoredom.  Are you drunk?

RAYNE
I wish I was.  I wish I was dead.

Oliver tries to hold her but she pushes him back. 

RAYNE
Why do you have to do that?

OLIVER
Comfort you?

RAYNE
Come after me!  Why can't you just leave me alone?

OLIVER
Why do you keep coming to see me?

RAYNE
Because I am a moron.

OLIVER
You're not a moron.

RAYNE
I love you!  Why does that not make me a moron?  

Oliver looks at her, mouth agape.

RAYNE
See that?  That right there is why I am fucked up.  You hold me,  you treat me like I might be special and then when we get close, it's done!  You stop cold.  And this is why you will let me walk away like you have for years.  

OLIVER
I treat you special...

RAYNE
Yeah!  You fixed all the holes in the ceiling except the one.  Why?

OLIVER
I...

RAYNE
You left me!  You fucking left me, twice.  Why?!

Oliver tries to kiss her.

RAYNE
No.  That won't fix it.  There is too much pain to deal with.  I just want to know why you left.  There was no reason.  Nothing.

OLIVER
It won't work out.  You and me.  I tried to make it work.

RAYNE
See the more I hear of that shit the less I believe it.  You leave me.  You cheat on me.  You come back. I find a guy and you have fucking ESP and text me the first night we are together.  I mean, what the hell?  Do you just like to see me miserable? 

OLIVER
You're too good for me.

RAYNE
Obviously not.

OLIVER
Rayne...

She kisses him.

RAYNE
I'm done.  Totally.  I've said goodbye to you too many times.  Don't text me.  Don't call me.  I deleted my number from your phone.  Yours is gone.

OLIVER
I love you.

RAYNE
Don't say that.  DAMMIT YOU CAN'T SAY THAT.  You love you.  I love me.  We're selfish people.

She hugs him and picks her bag up.  He tries to follow her and she stops, shaking her head.  Oliver stops and she walks to her car and climbs in.  She drives away.

EXT.FREEWAY.DAY.

Rayne leans forward against the steering wheel sobbing uncontrollably.







Friday, January 11, 2013

The countdown to 30 begins...~dramatic drumroll~

I am flattered the world thinks of me as a young thing, in appearance.  Nearly 30 and thank goodness for genetics.

No, the ageless grey hairs have not graced my head.  The line on my eyes are starting to form, ever so slightly, a wrinkle that will, no doubt, ingrain itself into my skin as a permanent reminder that I was once young.  My brain doesn't recall what it used to.  There was a time I could remember every part of every play or film I was ever in.  Now I find the fog of age creeps into my psyche and the doubts gnaw at me ever so slightly.

I imagine I will find this blog online one day and laugh at myself and the utter naivety of it all, and quite possibly the dire and dramatic diatribe.

This morning, the 11th of Jan 2013, I can't find rest.  My brain is working too hard.  Auditions are coming up and I am spending every free moment thinking to myself, "how can I get in that audition, and once in, how do I secure myself a role so I can quit working for the T&C?"  I spent a large portion of today looking for film festivals for a friend.  Apparently this post will be alliterative.

Acting is, all consuming.  It's all I want, and then a man walks in and I am so easily swayed by the smells, sounds and general S's that I stray.  Oddly enough, not this time.  No, in the madness I find myself thinking of him often, but not in such a fanatical way as to make me lose focus.

While I see this as a stepping stone leading me down a road to a more mature and exciting relationship with someone I really am quite fond of and have become very close with, many friends with whom I choose to share my excitement find my cynicism and anti-romantic tendency to be a sign of impending doom.

Let me explain.  A long time ago, or maybe it was just 2 years I am not sure anymore, I was in love.  I have been there alot.  In my lifetime I have dated exactly 78 men.  That is a lot of getting to know men.  Kinda know them well at this point and in general nothing shocks me that they do.  Women, to this day, even I will never understand.

Yes. I got all gushy when the last one came through the door.  I wanted to see him. He was fun and cute, to me, and I loved him and his family more than anything.  Had they called me to sacrifice my life for them I would have with no hesitation.  He bought me flowers, bought me dinner.  Told me I was perfect and wonderful and good, albeit irresponsible.  He was kind.  He kissed me goodbye every morning and told me he loved me from the day he first said those words to the day he walked out of my life completely.  This became a sign of habit.  I no longer trust this person, though I still love him with all I can allow, and therefore do my best to avoid him entirely.  This also extends to his children (who will be the only children I have that I ever call mine if I have any say in the matter.  No they didn't come out of me but I love them to this day)  as well as his mother and step father(who were always so very kind to me).

Why bring up this painful memory?  Because it's there and if I hold it in the emotion will be there anyways and, like a cancer, it will fester and rot.

The newest incarnation of a boyfriend is much more like me.  Younger than the late 30-early 40 I have been interested in.  He is genuine in ways I forgot someone could be, like me.  It's great.  I will say I am in fact driven mad by the perfection sometimes.  Looks go, always smells good, always nice.  It's strange and so familiar in that most of the traits I find so grand in him are ones I hold dear myself.  His romantic gestures do, however, on occasion with all all the sincerity, cause my brain to momentarily stop working and I honestly think I have a stroke.  Things go blue in my vision.  I like it but it gets overwhelming and like the honest person I always am I tend to bluntly state he needs to tone it down.  It's something I have to get used to.

Like Carrie in the last season of Sex and the City.  Aleksandr is offering all these gestures...playing music written for her...reading her poetry...giving her  dress from one of her favorite designers.  While most women would eat this alive.  Carrie is hesitant, not because she doesn't trust him, not because she doesn't adore him, not because she doesn't like it.  It's just overwhelming.  Sometimes when that certain guy looks into your eyes and says the exact thing you need to say and it is frightening and amazing and wonderful and you like it so much it hurts.

I never wanted to be saved.  I always saved myself.  While he seems fine and patient with it.. and yes the thought threw me into another stroke... every one else seems to deem it a sign of bad romance.  Why does it have to be so though.  Can't someone have outgrown romance?  Can't someone honestly have had so many bad experiences.  Things always start perfect and wonderful.  Some day he won't be perfect.  Someday it will happen and I reserve judgement for the bad until it gets there, but let it slowly build into wonderful.  Let me slowly absorb the great.  Because if I dove right in, that wouldn't be me.  I can dive...but let me dip my hands in to test the depths first.