warning: expletives ahead
Dammit.
I did not make it as a finalist at Austin.
I am still going to attend the festival. I am still going to belly up to the bar on the nights that I am there and mingle as best I can. (No wine, however – NO WINE. Ever seen the movie "Blind date"? Exactly. No wine or champagne for this gal, not in public and not without an escort. I learned my lesson last Halloween).
But damn. The man called from Austin today to deliver the bitter news and I was so frozen with doubt that I couldn't get myself to answer the phone. The kids and me had just gathered around the table with a bag full of fast-food tacos and I felt caught.
"Hi this is Alex from the film festival…" No. I couldn't answer it. Emily and I stared at each other as he politely left his message requesting that I call back. I noticed a downturn in his voice. Emily said I was nuts. I played back his original message when he called regarding the semifinal status and then compared it to the fresh message.
"See?" I took a bite of my taco, "His inflection drops."
"It sounds exactly the same!" Emily said.
"No, his inflection drops."
"He said he looks 'forward to your call.'"
"No, there was a twinge."
Emily bowed her head and started whispering a prayer. The other guys couldn't have cared less. Peter kept showing me his Open House announcement. He didn't want to miss it. It was tonight. Of course. Nick got braces today, and complained that his mouth hurt as he tried to eat. Christian lost another tooth today and asked me about the tooth fairy. He showed the broken tooth the dentist removed to Nora and Peter. They oohed and awed.
"Why am I not calling him back?"
"Cause you're scared."
"Right."
But call him I did, and Alex gave me the news I'd guessed. He told me it's still all good. He said I'll still be listed in the producer's book and I still will have people who may want to talk to me, but I obviously won't win a bloody dime from the festival.
I thanked him. I told him I looked forward to the event – and I do.
But after I hung up, I felt exhausted and a bit let down. No. I felt a lot let down. Big f---ing deal. It's still and honor. Suddenly, I needed a nap.
Jon called. He told me not to let myself get down about it. " Go there and act like a winner. Go there and talk about what you do – don't get down on yourself – they'll smell it and stay clear of you." He compared the situation to college bowl games. "By the time they get to the bowls, they're all good teams. Then they are just playing to see who has a better day. Your script had a bad day, but it's still good. It's still came down to you and 22 others."
"Thanks hon."
(Technically, It was down to me and 45 others, split between the drama and comedy) Oh,well. Who cares.
Two minutes after our conversation, I felt angry. Not at Jon, but at myself. Angry that I let a whole summer go by without finishing anything. Angry because I am so undisciplined. Angry that I don't have seven more scripts ready to go. Angry that I let myself gain weight in ways more than body fat. Angry that when I feel HAPPY I am lazy. Angry that the only time I ever write is when I feel sad, used, depressed, tied up in knots, confused, desperate, scared, mystical, drunk, bitter, lonely, frustrated, isolated and all that crap. Angry, that I know I might be able to dig up a career, but only if I can come up with ways to continuously fuel the fire of Angst and Regret.
Fuck.
Music turned up to volume 11, I ripped through the house and had it cleaned up in less than 30 minutes.
Yes, we went to the Open House.
We all went to the Y and I lifted weights like Rocky Balboa preparing for the big fight.
Home now, and I'm still pissed. I've popped open a bottle of cheap red wine (I'm safe here), I am returning to my love of Bukowski and Hemmingway and their bad, bad ways. WHO THE HELL CARES IF I CAN'T WRITE. I'M GONNA ANYWAY. Scorpio bitch that I am, the needle goes inward. Freakin' annoyed.
Now I am angry. Now I want to punch hole through the wall. Now I am son-of-a fucking-bitch-determined. Tell me that I didn't make it, huh?
Praise Jesus! I can finally write again.
 | Currently listening: Vampire Weekend |
