Today’s been quite nice.

For one, I only had class in the morning. And it was Pitch class, which does not take place in the dread Writing Theatre, ergo I didn’t spend the whole time fighting off sleep. so that’s a plus.

Besides, I like the prof. He’s a guy named Kelsey Kirvan, and he’s a pretty funny and laid back dude. He’s like if you took Greg Proops of Whose Line Is it? fame and drained him of all that droopy drippy disdain that normally makes him so intolerable, leaving his Buddy Holly charm and dorky wit intact.

I ended up doing two of my three pitches. They went… well, about how I expected. In my mind, things were fairly clear, but when it came time to spit it out, suddenly it was not so clear. Fair enough. The whole idea of doing three logline pitches a week (plus a three minute pitch… more on that later) is to get practice, and while most people grasp that practice makes perfect, the corollary that this obviously implies, namely that before practice you are far less than perfect, is harder for people to accept.

About that three minute pitch. Apparently, the prof was supposed to tell us to do three logline pitches plus a three minute pitch, and forgot. Then forgot he forgot. So today, around halfway through, he says “We won’t have time for the third round of your logline pitches…” and I am thinking, we have an hour and a half left, what else do we have to do?

Then he tells us we are going to work on our three minute pitches after the break, and this is the first time I have even heard the phrase. Apparently some of my fellow students had heard about it from the other half, group B, but I hadn’t.

And we say “Um, you never told us to do that!”, and the prof says “Did I seriously forget to do that?” and we had to tell him, um, yeah. And so he looked depressed for a few moments then shrugged and said “Well we’re doing it anyway!”

I admire him for that. Many, many, many, MANY times in my life, I have been faced with the consequences of my own absentmindedness and had to just keep going anyhow, so he has my sympathies.

My first logline pitch was for Die Hard, but the second one, I decided to indulge my wacky side and pitched one of the strangest movies in the world, namely Rubber, a movie about a sentient rubber tire with psychic powers that goes on a murderous rampage across the American desert while on the trail of a mysterious woman.

And no… it’s not animated.

In fact, the weirdest thing about the movie is that the tire is not the weirdest thing about the movie. It’s very experimental and arty and post-modern, and yet, it does it in a way that is interesting and charming enough to get away with it. I quite enjoyed it, but then again, I’m weird AF myself, so it suited me.

After class, I had lunch at my fave new lunch spot, Bon Chaz. It’s just such a “me” place! Plus, this time, I noticed that they had a stamp card type thing, like Subway used to have, and so I was all over that. I got one stamp today, and once I have six, I get my seventh sandwich combo for free.

I imagine that will take a while, because alas, I can’t afford to eat there more than once a week or so, but still. Keen gear!

Speaking of which, I have been thinking about trying to find a little part time work again lately, just for pocket money. Going downtown every day has rekindled the feeling of desperate deprivation that I used to feel when I was on regular welfare and so much of the world was cut off to me. I have it a lot better now, but I suppose my ambition level (and stress level) has made me want to be able to afford to do like my fellow students do and go out for pizza by the slice or whatever for lunch. And indulge myself in other ways.

I wonder if I could get work as an extra or a clapboard holder or something else at the bottom rung of the entertainment industry. I am not looking for a lot of work, because frankly I don’t have the time. But something that was like, four to eight hours a week would be groovy.

Either that, or I need to finally get around to land myself a sugar daddy who thinks I am brilliant and wants to do everything he can to make sure my talents get to shine.

It could happen. I’m cute.

It was nice commuting home when it was not rush hour. Way less stressful. I was still hyper vigilant about making sure I got a seat on the Skytrain, because by now it’s compulsive, but otherwise it was a far more relaxed trip home without the usual crowding and atmosphere of stress and tension.

Rush hour always has a tense vibe. Kind of like a milder version of the harsh airport vibe. And I am very sensitive to the local vibe. It’s why I hate laundromats. They are so full of stultifying boredom!

When I got home, I did my best to catch up on sleep. So I slept for most of the afternoon. And it’s funny to think about it now, but it used to be that I viewed sleeping all afternoon as a failure, like I was wasting my life away in sleep.

Now it feels like a victory. After all, I only get around five hours of sleep a night. If it wasn’t for napping, I would probably lose my tiny grip on reality.

And then the pork witch would gabble garble in the Frankenstein whirligig all day!

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.