If she liked me any more, she'd sic the dogs on me.

So it's the last day of prep before I start a low-budget bit of weirdness for five weeks. I always get a little queasy before the start of a long show. It's like the beginning of a new relationship: unsure, uncomfortable, and no one really knows how to please anyone. Not really, anyway. It always feels like a mistake at the beginning, and on this one it probably is, but by the end I'm usually not only happy it's all over but I also happy that I was on the picture. Confusing, yes? Oui.

So far so good. No one is communicating well and we're already hearing rumors about the producers being super shady and possibly not paying people. Even the union has heard about these guys and let my loader know to watch her back. Swimming with sharks, indeed. I can't wait to get into it with someone over paychecks and grievances and overtime and meal penalties and who knows what all else. See? I'm already getting excited about my new love, my new flame, my new movie.

It's so very contrived, this script we're about to shoot. Hollywood shrink has a producer, a failed writer, an aging starlet, and a "magical" black girl as clients. Of course they all end up meeting and working each others' problems out. Oh, and they make a movie about it all. Yeah, a movie within a movie, how original. The whole movie is one stereotype after another followed by a couple of really bad scenes of people smoking pot. Pot is so cool. Pot is like the thing all the kids are into nowadays. Pot is so cool. Oh wait, did I say that already? Dude.

Ah fuck me, Freddy. This is going to be a long five weeks.

Funny story: Last night I tried to go home only to find all of the streets around my humble abode closed to traffic. Twelve cop cars and three animal control cars and a pack of horse riding cops. Couldn't even walk into the neighborhood.  Apparently the Toonerville locals got shot up or shot someone else up or some shooting of delinquents occurred.  Did I tell you I couldn't go home for awhile? I ended up falling asleep in my car for a bit and then awoke to find my previously marshal lawed neighborhood eerily quiet and completely empty. The only thing hinting at the good times that had just been had were several piles of ashes from warning flairs. No little yellow cones or chalk outlines or anything odd to show you what had happened. I was happy just to get home and walk the dog for a bit. The end result though, is that I have a migraine and I'm exhausted and I'm still in Panavision. Oh why oh why? I thought I'd be out of here this time! 

Boring.

Peace out, bitches!