Kumquats and Other Silly Things

I still can't believe that it took me a whole month to get myself to the Santa Monica Farmers' Market. I still can't believe I've already been here a whole month - but that's a different story. In another example of how living in Santa Monica is like living with rose colored glasses (that block out the view of smog, traffic, homeless people) and will certainly give me a jaded view of living in LA, Katie and I walked to the farmers market. The fact that we have places to walk to (with nice scenery on the way) is impressive enough, but being walking distance from good food puts me over the top. 

I assumed that since the Farmers' Market is every Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday that the Wednesday turn out would be light, but instead it was packed and there were so many tents in all different directions that Katie and I decided to do a loop around the entire place before buying anything. It was all a big tease, considering that the guest house we're living in has a kitchen consisting of a hot plate, toaster over, microwave, and mini-fridge which freezes half of our food (we were thrilled to discover that our milk had frozen yet our ice cream was completely melted). It was a little upsetting being around all that amazing food and knowing that we have no way to prepare or cook any of it in our little home. 

We ended up buying some fresh guacamole - I considered buying the ingredients to make guacamole instead but Katie pointed out we lack bowls and knives scarp enough to cut anything beyond butter. I also bought a bag of Kumquats and a variety of stone fruit. I was always a berry girl, but since I can't eat them too often anymore I've been venturing out in my fruit buying. There must have been at leave 20 stands with plums, peaches, nectarines, and apricots and we had at least 1 sample at all of them. I also had my first raw oyster after finding a booth that was shucking fresh ones. I've been reading Saucier's Apprentice, which not only makes me extremely hungry every time I pick it up, but after a scene describing the author's first raw oyster experience I couldn't resist getting one, even if they were 2 dollars per 1 little half shell. It was delicious. 

The halfway point of the summer is pretty mellow. Ellie and Tarreyn came down last weekend and the girls all went out for a cupcake raid of Sprinkles and Crumbs. Box, Jesse, and Mike are all possible visitors for the next month, and there is also rumored excitement about a triumphant return of Mr. Alex. I've fell into a nice rhythm here. I'm comfortable at my internship, I go for a walk by the beach every afternoon, and I have time to read and work on my script without feeling rushed.

Still, when I contemplate if I could live here in a year I start to get nervous. I could definitely call this city home for some amount of time. When I'm honest with myself, I could probably get used to living in any big city, but there are certainly things here that I really enjoy. But despite enjoying my internship it's given me some perspective about how the industry really works here and I don't know how happy it makes me. 

There are three routes: 1) You move out and say "I want to direct and only direct" and less than 1% of people who say this actually succeed and the rest fall back on something else. 2) You can work your way up the production ladder starting as a PA. The problem with this is a lot of people who aspired to be directors or DPs get stuck as grips and ACs permanently because they get too good at the jobs in the middle.  3) You can get a job at a production company and work your way up in the office. This is what I'm experiencing first hand, an office filled with people who mostly wanted to work in production or Direct but instead work closely with planning and dealing with productions but are never on set. Even if you work your way up in the company you pretty much get a bigger paycheck, but no real set time. The people in the office in their mid-20s all seem so bogged down that it's like they forgot or don't have the energy to pursue their original goals. This last option seems the most likely for me, but I'm not exactly sure I like what I'm observing and people who've gone down that road. 

During a long phone call with George the other night he said that most of what people stress about can be divided into F's: Friends, Family,  Food, Funds, Fucking, Film, Future.  This post has gotten absurdly long, and really should have been two separate entries, but I guess it properly sums up my current thoughts, though: food and future. Oh, and Free Willy, which Katie is currently watching. 

Bye kids,

Sarah

I dedicate this to Allen

After a day of typing documentary transcripts*, I decided to spend my afternoon in Central Park. Explosions in the Sky was supposed to play a concert - that was sold out. However, it was an outdoor show, so I figured I would be able to hear.

At four, I walked the 20 blocks down to 59th and 8th, the entrance into Central Park. After meandering around for about twenty minutes, it started to rain. By the time I found shelter, I was drenched head to toe. I had to ring out my hair and shirt. When the rain stopped, I went back on my voyage to find the concert. Finally, an massive line of attractive hipsters* pointed me straight to the show. Yet, right when I found the perfect seat (a rock) it started to rain again. I retreated back to my safe zone, passing adorable couples with umbrella's all along the way. Girls clung to boys, snuggling into their chests. Boys clung to girls, burying themselves in their girlfriends sides in order to receive a head massage. Common themes, I kid you not. And there I stood, all alone, soaking wet. I didn't even have my rain boots to make things better (I told you they were a great purchase). Okay, thats enough bitterness for today.

I waited out the storm with some writing and some reading. I headed down to the concert and listened to some mediocre band for an hour. It was getting late and I was getting cold so I decided to get home. I spent the next 45 minutes wandering around the park due to my decision to take a "short cut." When I finally made it out, I was on 81st and Central Park West (which is the same as 8th) - 22 blocks from the D train. I began my trek, which wasn't that bad at all seeing that there were a lot of the pretty buildings and museums on that side of town.

At 64th, the white man turned to a red hand. When I stopped at the corner, all traffic noise paused for a second and there I heard it - wallowy guitar and a lot of cymbal - it was Explosions! I b-lined back into the park, following the music so I wouldn't get lost. When I hit the baseball field the sound was perfect, so I sat down and listened, completely wet, completely cold, and completely happy.

Less-Than-Three You, Monique

Listening to: a British accent

Footnotes*

1. I met the other intern today. Her name is Michelle. She is from Oklahoma. And, she blows my mind. She is that girl - the girl who is continuously confident. Michelle is the type of girl who doesn't 'expect' boys to buy her things but more so 'assumes' they will. She is pretty, yes, but there is something more that I can't quite put my finger on. She wears knee socks and floral dresses, and speaks loud and clear. It's all very bizarre. I'm curious if I'll actually get to know her; I don't think I will.

2. According to Monique, attractive hipsters are mainly male. They wear fitted jeans, simple t-shirts and zipper hoodies. They could have soccer bodies if they did something other than play an instrument. In order to keep their minds fresh, attractive hipsters often frequent coffee shops, trendy concerts in the park, and little known poetry events. The difference between an attractive hipster and a regular hipster is that Monique plans to obtain one someday. Not only are they adorable, but they are easy to maintain, seeing that they can survive on coffee and cigarettes alone.

Sleepless in the city that never sleeps

So, I have officially spent my first 24 hours in New York. My flight left Phoenix at 6am Sunday, which meant I left the house at 4am... my usual bed time these days. So, I chose not to sleep. After dealing with a clusterfuck at the baggage check-in counter and talking my way through an epic security line, I made it to my gate just in time to board. I slept terribly on the plane and arrived in New York around 2pm east coast time. After I grabbed my bag, I met my maternal aunt Bia, whom I have not seen since I was 5, and we parted for the city. Two hours on the subway and we finally made it to my cousins place in the Bronx. (P.S. if you want to go to Manhattan, fly La Guardia, not JFK. Lesson learned.)

My aunt, whom I quickly realized was a terribly flighty lady, is absolutely adorible. She has the personality of my mom in some bizarre ways. What's more is she looks nothing like my mom... none of her sibblings do. It must be a Creole thing.

Anyway, we headed back to the house where I immediately passed out. After my three hour nap, my cousin and his boyfriend arrived. He is hilarious and terribly social... I felt right at home. 20 minutes after his arrival, he ran out the door to get booze. Sunday night became Margarita Night - I was down for that.

The next morning, I got up for work. I had a hard time sleeping; thoughts of what my next month would be like kept going through my head. But, I made it to work after two subway transfers and 2 blocks of walking. The building I work in consists of [literally] a tiny golden door with the street address on the side. You walk in to a small room with 3 elevators and a security guard at a desk. I made my way up to the 21st floor, amazed to find a beautiful lofted office area with an epic view of the city.

I work for three older gentlemen that make documentaries and I spent most of my day transcribing interviews and reading articles on American Cinematographer in my spare time. I grabbed a quick lunch at the restaurant downstairs with the lunch stipend I get (I'm pathetically excited about this, my dears).

After work, I was on the verge of passing out so I grabbed a coffee and headed to 49th and 9th. On my way over, a man said "I love you" and held out his hand full of change (I don't buy love so I smiled politely and kept moving). Another man said "God bless you. You are so cute." I smiled once again, and his friend yelled "He's 45" as I continued to make my way to the shop. Once there, I met up with my aunt, cousin and his adorable friend Diego. Diego is another actor and dancer, and we chatted about his problematic weekend at auditions for a bit. Diego left and we joined another one of my cousins friends at the Hudson to kayak. Yes, I kayaked, and I didn't even fall in! I'll put up an actual pic of us kayaking later... but for now, you can look at the random woman I snapped.

We went to dinner at this beautiful hole-in-the-wall Thai place called "Room Service." Diego and Brandon, my cousins boyfriend, joined us and we spent the night talking about conspiracy theories and fashion. The food was great and the atmosphere was amazing - silver walls, slick black tables and metal chairs filled the room. They had a massive crystal chandelier caged inside of a glass box in the middle of the room, and old framed mirrors were mounted to the ceiling. I definitely approve of the sexy lighting this place had. If you are ever in NY, check it out.

Now I'm back at my cousin's, about to watch "The Darjeeling Limited" and make these ridiculous hair covered headphones with Brandon. This weekend I'm off to Vermont with Alex and Christy... I could definitely get used to this.

Less-Than-Three You, Monique

Listening to: New York ambience

Odds and Ends

I'm about three and a half hours into what will certainly be a slow and boring day. There is nothing going on in the office, nothing to research, and my supervisor isn't here. I have a slow day of Internet browsing ahead of me. 

Yesterday I worked my first shoot. While I can't say what the shoot was for, I will say that it was a very fun experience. It was a small shoot, I was one of five interns serving as PAs working alongside the professional crew and I was the only woman on set. It took about two or three hours into the day before someone finally said the words that I expected to have heard much earlier. As the wee PAs huddled in the area of the room most out of the way of the Big Boy's footsteps, I caught the 1st AC giving us all a once over. "So, you're all looking to get into the industry?" We nodded, he continued. "Get out. Chose another profession while you still can. The industry is dying, I wouldn't want to be trying to break in at this time." This comment, while a little brash, isn't really rude. The guy saying it was not unfriendly. It's the most honest and most common advice given to anyone in my position and I was surprised it hadn't come up sooner in my intern experience. 

My LA summer is just about half over, which is really depressing. I like it here, but I worry we're all getting too cozy and aren't exploring the city enough. While my internship experience is half over, Mo's is just starting and I can't wait for her to blog her ass off about New York and whatever shinanigans she experiences. Meanwhile, I'll be here. In the office. Reading digg and trying not to fall asleep on this slow, slow day. 

Bye kids,

Sarah

Listening to: The really awful noise the printer has started to make behind me. 

And Away We Go...

I leave for New York on Sunday. I'm just about packed; I just need to get a few last minute things in order and then I'm off.

In the mean time, I saw "Away We Go." It was absolutely beautiful - it felt real. You should check it out.



Less-Than-Three You <3 Monique
Listening to: "Forgetting Sarah Marshall"

Independence

I left Tucson on Saturday and headed home to Scottsdale. My mom wanted to see me before I left for New York, so here I am, trapped in this nonsensical place til Sunday. My mom leaves for North Carolina tomorrow morning, so I figured this would be the perfect time to complete my roadtrip to LA to visit the BFAers. Wednesday to Saturday in LA, Sunday to August in NY... sounds good right?

I have all the means of doing this trip... funding, a car, time and directions. The opposition? My mother. She doesn't want me to do it. "Think about the mileage, the waste of money... I'm uncomfortable with this." So what do I do? I'm 20 years old, I pay for my schooling and I'm pretty responsible all in all. But I'm not fully independent. What happens if I go to LA anyway? Are the consequences of still being in the nest worth it?

This makes me wish that I was fully independent. Financially, that is. A simple job would take care of that, right? What's harder is that I realize that this is just the beginning of the problem. What am I going to do in the future? We are entering an unstable industry where jobs come and go more frequently than lovers; how the hell am I going to be financially independent then? Now that's a sad realization. So if we don't reach a level of success in this industry that guarantees us a form of stability - a regular influx of projects - what the fuck are we to do?

Our friend Allen has been out of film school for a year now and he finally has a comfortable job with benefits at Starbucks. He loves it, but his concerns come in the idea that he just spent four years studying something that he currently isn't utilizing simply due to the need for stability. He needs to go to LA. He needs to find work. He needs to show his talent. But he needs to pay bills, too. You can't argue with that.

I guess the only thing we can do is decide what we need to do and do our best. I need to go to LA (now) and I need to work in film (later). All that's left is the action.

Less-Than-Three You, Monique
Listening To: a mix of Spoon and my brother, Ryan, spinning DnB.

Chicks in Flicks

Cinematical put up an article last a week about about Girls on Film and why wanting more interesting female protagonists isn't just a feminist ploy for equality. The main gist of the article is that wanting to see some variety in the types of woman portrayed in film is not any different from other minorities wanting to see themselves represented on screen. I remember talking with George and Katie over some fried food at Deny's late one night last semester about the lack of female characters in both the junior and senior films last year. Even now as I write my senior project I made the decision for my character to be male without really considering it. The story could be exactly the same with a girl, why did I automatically make him a guy? While I don't think that all female protagonists go the way of Jezebel's breakdown of women in romantic comedies, it did get me thinking about the number of movies with female protagonists that aren't labeled 'chick flicks'. Personally what annoys me most is the fact that most the female-lead movies that aren't chick flicks are the movies specifically about female protagonists overcoming sexual adversity and that there is little to no middle ground. I'd like to see a strong and interesting female character in a movie that's not about how she is strong and interesting despite being a woman. 

EDIT 6/24: It's not a list of non-chick flicks with female protagonists, but it's close enough: a list of seven non-click flicks by female directors. I'm a little bummed out that American Psycho isn't on there. It did get a mention, though.