Wrote and sent off an extended fight scene to the director. Been thinking long and hard about the final scene; it’s more action than dialogue. When I wrote it, I thought I was writing for two male characters. But now, the agent is being played by a woman. …Maybe I’m sexist in this thinking, but I don’t imagine a female character would throw a punch as readily as a male. I imagine female characters might go for containment over physical superiority – less punch drunk and more hold ’em tight so you can lock ’em up. There’s also the inherent physical differences between men and women, because the agent is female but the protagonist is male. While there may be plenty of women out there confident of their ability to punch a guy straight in the face, women just don’t bulk up on muscles the way men do and therefore a punch from a woman is a bit less intimidating. Jabs to the throat: now that, I can get on board with. It’s fast and effective, and something every woman should know how to do.
Used my little toy soldiers, moving them around on my desk like it was a stage. Wrote and wrote and wrote: at this point, so and so should be facing the audience. Turn, now the other character faces the audience. The blocking is vital; throw a fake jab at the wrong angle and no one will believe it. Do it at the correct angle and everyone will gasp.
Per usual, nadda back from the director. I wonder what he thinks. He teases me that I bug him, but I’m getting it as a point of teasing rather than real irritation cloaked in a joking form. I think we’re on the same path, and I’m just providing him the elements he’d ask for if I dragged my feet. But I ain’t sure. I hope he looks on all my messages as helpful. That’s the way they’re intended.
Still trying to amuse myself during evenings with 24. Not easy. I’ve found the entire experience is better by leaving the tv on while we watch it. I tune the tv to something colorful and bright to combat the continual blah look of the series. That works. But…my head wanders. At one point last night my bro turned to me and said: Aha! That’s a vital plot point! – and I’d missed it entirely. Have noticed, by episode 6, the story is turning to something more people may be able to empathize with: the story of the kidnapped maiden. The senator’s story is devolving into a story about his kids; daughter raped and son implicit in the death of the rapist. Ah. Guess they agreed with me: give people something to bloody well care about. …But. And. Points of griping: Did no one think to try and track the daughter’s mobile phone? Keifer keeps harping on how he doesn’t have any leads, but that’s bullshit. His wife told him about one of the boys who kidnapped their daughter. He’s a damned federal agent. Run the fucking name through the system. Find out where he lives, track him down. A cop show would do these things. I don’t understand why 24 isn’t. The portrayal of Keifer’s office looks high-tech. In the background. But that’s it. Once they’re out of that room, it’s all lost. No one uses their smart phone for anything other than talking (with the exception of the grunt teaching Keifer how to scan from his mobile; obviously a sponsored thing). Really? Really really?
It struck me last night how European I’ve become. How I expect good wifi, public transport, certain amenities. I remember those long, unpopulated stretches of the states. I’ve been through and in many of them. But…really really? Last night I heard a character use dial up access on 24. Dial up access. And they were in a hotel in a big city. Really? I’d always heard the US is 10-20 years behind the EU in culture; now, it seems, I have proof. Seventeen years ago, when the series began, I was here in NL on a working holiday. And a highlight at the place I went was a souped up wifi service that was so instantaneous in its connection ability it took my breath away. It was a preview; the country didn’t have (and still doesn’t have) that kind of speed. But, that was the threshold. Dial up was a thing of the past. Not so in states. It just reminded me how poorly the US is constructed. The cities all decay because they’re shit to begin with. Tiny kings buy up tracts of land to build expensive castles on which they can’t maintain. It’s not for me. At all.
Remembered to order my injections from the pharmacy. Made an appointment for delivery on Wednesday. The cotton circles I’m using for wound trials are dry from their tea-staining. Still gotta dig out my old camera and see if I can breathe life into it.
… Been contemplating how, when you do your job really well, the tendency is to only receive negative comments. How everyone thinks you know you’re doing a good job when things are just silently taken care of without fuss or muss. It’s tough. Really tough. Case in point: did some tidying up the other day, and the only thing I heard from my bro was an admonishment not to use a certain shopping bag for recycling. He didn’t acknowledge the dishes I’d done, all the work I’d put in. Just that negative comment. I feel the same about the theatre group: that I’m only hearing the negativity because I’m doing my job so damned well that no one thinks I need to hear what a great job I’m doing. They only open their mouths when something isn’t perfect. I don’t know how to turn this around.
And this. is. life for me. Always has been, which is why I feel like I’ve received more negativity than positivity throughout the past 50 plus years.
Really? Really really?