On The Road : Fucking David Mamet edition

Here I am again, eating my lunch by myself as I blog into one of the school’s computers instead of socializing in the lunch room/lounge with my other writers.

Because socializing is hard on me. Partly, it’s my social anxiety, but decibel level is a big factors as well. A bunch of people talking in a small space overloads my senses and makes me anxious, even if I am otherwise having fun.

It’s what drove me out of the local furry scene I founded. It’s a real problem, and one I am going to have to come to grips with when I launch myself into the entertainment biz. I imagine I will have to attend many loud parties in small spaces. I dread the thought of a densely packed apartment where I can’t move around and there is nowhere for me to sit down and the musics is super loud.

That shit would make me reveal state secrets. I just can’t.

So I might need to seek out a chemical solution. Something stronger than my antidepressants. Something that can knock out my claustrophobia and sensory issues long enough for me to make the deal or meet the producer or whatever.

I am heartened by the fact that people are way more aware of anxiety issues these days and therefore I can convey the issue without having to explain it all and sound like a deranged professor on the nod.

But I am worried about potential chemical solutions. Because that sounds like someone’s story of addiction. “At first it was just a little, just to steady my nerves….”

And I am a little worried about what I might say when I am that relaxed. I say enough weird or inappropriate things while being my usual self. God knows what I would  be like if my anxieties magically went away and I felt really, really good.

It could go two ways : I might feel so good that I end up sitting in a chair talking to nobody in particular all night, and thus not meet or deal with anyone, or…

I might feel so good that I am absolutely fearless and filterless and completely convinced that everything I say is hilarious and everyone agrees and I am charming the heck out of everybody and they will all want to know, “Who is this fascinating man?”

While in reality, I would be incoherently rambling and not only are the people not laughing or charmed, I am actually scaring the shit out of them and a visit from like, three burly security guards with tasers is in the cards for me real real soon.

It’s one of the burdens of being a big guy. Things that would seem relatively harmless on someone of normal size become super scary when multiplied by my size.

That’s why we tend to be gentle giants. We’re compensating for the fact that people might be scared of us by being really gentle and sweet and sending out all the signals of harmlessness that we can.

This is all subconscious, of course. For the most part.

We did a table read of my “adaptation” of Glengarry Glen Ross. I will post it to this space when I have the time. I basically set out to destroy that fucking Alec Baldwin scene from the movie by having Al Pacino’s character tell a bunch of fellow salesmen a hilarious story about what a loser Blake (the Baldwin role) really is.

Call it revenge on Mamet. Because I fucking hate that play/movie. Not because of lack of merit, purely because it makes me so angry I wanna kill someone.


Home now. I will get to regular blogging in a moment, but I have to share this first :

I’ve been watching the Iron Fist series. It’s OK. Anyhow,  I noticed a completely awesome name in the credits : MATT FRACTION.

I heart that name! It’s the perfect name for a tough as nails heroic mathematician.in a cartoon meant to get kids interested in math.

Matt Fraction : Looks like you picked the wrong day to take the wrong derivative of pi, Doctor Leibniz Calculus!

Doctor Calculus : That’s impossible! The computer said my calculations were perfect!

Matt Fraction : Computers can only do math, Doctor. And you, you miscalculating miscreant, you can try to understand math. But me…

A bolt of lightning splits the night and as it illuminates his scarred and pitted face…

Matt Fraction : I AM MATH!

I have such fun.


But today was not fun. Not after lunch, anyhow.

In the afternoon, I had Episode Two class, with Ita, the teacher I seem to be doomed to disappoint. Or maybe she’s given up on me by now, I dunno.

Anyhow, the first blow was that, because I submitted my last set of revisions late (like, 11 hours late, which is a millennium in TV time), nobody was obligated to have notes for me and Ita herself only had sketchy notes for me. Nobody else had read my stuff except for my buddy Aash, who is awesome.

So there I was, feeling incredibly stupid and guilty, when I got my notes and both Ita and Aash said they had the same notes as last time because I hadn’t implemented any of their notes from the previous round of revisions.

So now I felt even worse. In fact, I became quite depressed. I started questioning whether there was a single teacher there who would recommend me for a job. All my time at VFS, I have been confused, unreliable, and for all appearances did not take notes well either.

At moments like this, I have to cling as hard as I can to the one thing I know I can do :

Write really funny dialogue.

When I was going through my notes (and apparently missing a ton of stuff), I came across lots of comments about how funny my stuff was. And my Sam stuff is also heartwarming, and secretly didactic. So I know I can do these things.

And in an actual writing job, I would not have a half dozen classes taking up room in my head. I would just have to write what I am told to write and attend the meetings I am told to attend. So I would not be quite as organizationally challenged.

Plus I love to write so I will work really hard. And I have lived on $12K/year for decades so I come cheap, too.

Minimum wage would double my income.

So I am not a total reject as a writer. I just have problems.

And really, doesn’t everybody?

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

 

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