Ready, Set, Go!

I only have a few minutes. There's something wrong with my beloved laptop. After twenty minutes it freezes and I have to manually shut it down, which I hate doing. This isn't that old, but I didn't get a warantee on it. Every time I turn it on I set a timer for 15 minutes so I can restart it before it freezes again.

Anyway...I haven't completely forgotten about the 29 Gifts in 29 Days I was (am) doing. I just forgot a few days then it sort of snowballed into a few weeks. I still do things but I always think I'll remember them to post about (as a writer I should know better than to think I'll remember something).

Today I was finally able to tackle a mountain of paperwork I had to work on. You'd think with only one kid it wouldn't be so hard to find time to sit for a few mintues. When my grandma died last March, she had a few bills that needed to be paid. She hardly had any money (like a few hundred) when she died, so as I was advised, I've been ignorning the bills for her I get in the mail. That is until a few weeks ago when I started getting collection agency notices in MY name. I don't know how I got sent to collections for her bills, but I did. This entire thing is a nightmare. Everyone (including the County because she was on Medicare) wants a piece of her measley $200 in her bank account. I was her power of attorney but that ceases when she dies. The bank won't let me touch her $200. I have been fighting with the county and her nursing home to keep her few hundred dollars because she still doesn't have a headstone at the cemetary. It's f-ing riduculous what I have to go through to put a headstone on an 88 year old woman's grave.

Obsessed at Six

When I was in first grade, I was reading beyond the normal level of a six year old. Because of this I was asked to teach other six year olds to read. I don't remember his name, but the first kid I was to help was a boy. We'd go into the back of the class and sit in a corner on the floor. I was supposed to read to him and have him read back to me. Instead, I tossed the book and tried to kiss him for the entire twenty minutes. I quickly lost my job at a mini-teacher because the boy didn't learn a thing. Well, maybe not a thing...

Circus or Bust

There are a few things I knew for sure when I was 12:

1. If someone didn't invent something to control my curly hair in the near future, I'd have to shave my head.
2. My album collection of puffy stickers were NOT lame (no matter what my brother said).
3. Lastly, and most importantly, I was going to be a trapeze artist in the circus.

I went through a few career ideas before settling on trapeze artist. First I was going to be a teacher, but I realized I only liked organizing the papers, not dealing with the kids.
Then I was going to be a comedian. I'd take joke books out of the library and try to memorize them. Instead, I ended up forcing my mom and brother to sit on the couch while I read the joke book to them, waiting for laughs. Not so funny.
I also wanted to be a gymnast but had never had any gymnastics training other than the cartwheels and round-offs I did on my front lawn. So I settled for the next best thing, trapeze artist.
I decided to start training right way, and the only way I knew how: on the shower curtain rod. We had a big old fashion bathtub with a metal curtain rod that went all the way around and attached to the ceiling. I told my mom I was going to take a shower (I even ran the water). I stood on the edge of the tub and grasped the rod tightly. I got on my tiptoes and flung forward with all my might.
I don't remember landing (maybe I briefly blacked out), but I do remember the sound of the curtain rod ripping out of the ceiling and crashing down around me. My mom came running up the stairs and I jumped back into the tub. She burst in and asked what happened. I told her, in my sincerest voice, that I didn't know. The curtain rod just...fell.
She got on the phone to the landlord (yes, this was a rental) who lived next door. I quickly got dressed and he came over. My mom told him what I'd told her, that it just fell. He took one look at it and said, "It looks like someone was swinging from it." I gasped and sputtered, "Psshh, what? Swinging? Why would someone swing from a curtain rod? Duh." and quickly went into my room to hide out until it was fixed.
Needless to say this ended my short lived career as a trapeze artist.

From Hip to Drip

The summer I was 17 I had a babysitting job on Seneca Parkway (awesomely huge houses) Monday thru Friday. I worked 6am-6pm, made breakfast, lunch and dinner for two kids and made $100 a week. Ah, the good ol' days.

To make the time pass I'd take the kids on numerous walks during the day. One day I was walking down Magee Avenue towards Raines Park. Out of the corner of my eye I saw somebody waving at me from inside a house. I walked closer and saw a very cute guy doing the waving. I had no idea who he was, but it didn't matter. He was hot and he was waving. At me. I waved back frantically. He stopped waving and looked at me strangely. I realized he was cleaning his windows. I quickly walked away and took the long way back to the house.

The next day was Saturday and I "had to"go up to Ray's Deli for something...anything. And instead of walking down my street (Electric Avenue), I had to go the total opposite way to walk by the guy's house. As I sloooooowwwllyy walked by his house, he came outside. We introduced ourselves. I vehemently denied being the idiot who waved like a nut the day before while he was cleaning windows. I told him I was going up to Ray's Deli and he asked me to get him a Pepsi.

I practically ran the rest of the way to the store, so I could get back to him and continue our conversation. I handed him his Pepsi and he asked what I bought for myself. Realizing I didn't buy a thing for myself, I told him I ate a candybar on the way back.

His name was Todd Alexander and he was 23. An older man! He was so cute, I think I'd still recognize him if I saw him. He asked if I wanted to see the inside of his house. He didn't have to ask twice. (An aside: I was an extremely naive 17 year old). We went into his house and instead of him showing me around, he asked if I wanted to sit on his lap. Didn't have to ask that twice either.

I tried to act mature and grown up, like I did this all the time. It was no big deal to be in a strange guy's house sitting on his lap. We started making out and I remember he tasted like beer. It never even dawned on me where he might think it was leading.

Just when I was convinced he was going to ask me out (back then it meant being boyfriend/girlfriend exclusively), suddenly I heard it. The words that I can still hear clearly in my mind. The words my mother called from a block and a half away...

"Lisa....Lisa Marie....Come home now!"

I started talking fast and loud hoping he wouldn't hear. Didn't work.

Him: "Is somebody calling you?"

Me: "No, I don't hear anything. So anyway, you own this house, huh? You must have a lot of money."

"Lisa Marie! Where are you?"

Him: "Are you sure? I think someone's calling your name."

Me: "Nope. No one calls me that."

Him: "What, your name?"

Me: "I'd better go. I should really help that crazy woman find whoever she's looking for."

We made plans for him to stop by in three days, when my mom would be at work. (That story is much worse than this one.)

A Girl Named Bazooka

When I was twelve my dad's girlfriend (who I hated) had a sixteen year old daughter who I worshiped. I loved going over to his house just to see her. I loved everything about her from her Led Zeppelin posters to the money that was always casually strewn on her floor. (I'd go home and toss some money on my floor too, but I always ended up picking it up. It was money!) Her name was Ann Marie but everyone called her Dee Dee. Just as much as I adored her, she ignored me. If I spent a full eight hours at their house and she just said, "Hey" to me, I was happy. At the time I thought she was this older mature woman. Looking back I realize she was just a teenager who, I'm sure, was very sick of having a twelve year old stare at her.

When she wasn't around, which was often (I like to pretend it wasn't because of me), I'd stand in the doorway to her room and just look around. I wanted to be her. I thought she was the coolest. I remember her blasting, "Heat of the Moment" by Asia and thinking that was the hardest rock song I'd ever heard.

Since I was too young to dress like her and too organized to keep my room like hers, I decided I wanted a nickname like she had. If I could just come up with something clever and catchy, I knew I'd be as cool as she was. I thought about it for all of a few hours when it hit me. The coolest, hippest name I could imagine: Bazooka. If I could just get everyone to call me Bazooka, I knew I wouldn't be ignored by her any longer. The trick was to get everyone to start calling me by my new self-appointed nickname. Not as easy as you'd think.

I started by calling my dad's house and when she answered I'd say, "Hey, Dee Dee, it's me, Bazooka. Is my dad there?" (I cringe just typing that.) Since nobody ever questioned it, I figured my new name was working. (Although, Dee Dee still didn't talk to me.)

I was really getting into having my own nickname when my dad's birthday rolled around. I thought, here's the perfect time to announce my new name to a room full of people.

My dad opened his presents and when he got to my card, he lingered. Somebody asked, "Who's it from?" My dad's response? "What the fuck is Bazooka?"

Horrified, I just slunk back and didn't say a word. That was the end of Bazooka.

Things I'm Thankful For

Since our Thanksgiving plans were changed, I decided to stop dwelling on my aching back and instead on the things I'm thankful for this year.

• Adopting Joey
• Mike, for everything
• Our business is busier than ever considering the economy
• I had two films made, and one in a film festival
• I've met some wonderful friends though Rochester Movie Makers
• We decided to home school Joey
• I've gotten closer with my girlfriends
• We started preparing to buy a house in the next few months
• I ate four pieces of chocolate chip banana bread today and didn't throw up
• Joey's OT and Speech therapist
• Joey spontaneously saying I love you a lot.
• The Yankees winning the World Series so my husband isn't grumpy
• Joey loving ancini de pepe, the one thing I can cook
• Our cars not breaking down
• The awesome bookshelf I got at the Hilton garage sale
• Keeping in touch with long lost friends and family on Facebook
• Joey's adoption party going just how we always imagined
• Joey's amazingly good behavior on a daily basis
• Taking turns with Mike sleeping in on weekends
• The years I spent with my grandma before she died last March
• The relationship with my ex-husband and his awesome wife
• Being done with jury duty for the next ten years
• Gordy Hoffman buying us Yankees souvenirs from the World Series and sending it to us
• The free piano from Kristen
• My iPhone
• My in-laws
• Having my dad to talk to about anything and everything

I'm How Old?

Yesterday I went to see my chiroprator again. He's a nice guy but I'm starting to think it's all a crock. This time he charged me $45 for less than a half hour and hardly did anything. He wants me to come back Monday to see how I'm doing. I wanted to say, "Can't you call me at home and ask how I'm doing? It'll save me another $45." I don't feel any better today than I did last Saturday. I'm doing my exercises, alternating hot and cold and walking around a little at a time, but I'm still in a lot of pain.

I thought my chiropractor was in his mid-fifties. He looks like one of my dad's cousins. When I asked if yoga or pilates would help strengthen by back when I'm better he said, "When you get to our age we need to exercise to keep flexible."

I'm sorry, our age? Does he actually think I'm in my mid-fifties?

I couldn't help myself. "Our age?" I asked. He looked at my chart. "Your're almost forty, and I'm forty-two. Not too far apart."

Right. I forget I'll be forty in a few months. Minus the back pain making me feel eighty, I consider myself around twenty-three. Sometimes twelve. I have noticed lately that people tell me I look in my late twenties, which I appreciate. But a year or two ago I was getting early to mid-twenties.

I really don't mind turning forty. In fact I'm looking forward to it. I don't feel old and luckily I don't look old. But I definitely don't like being compared to somebody I thought was fifty-five. Yikes.

Unexpected Shot

This morning our speech therapist told me they set up clinics for the h1n1 shot. I had no idea about this and haven't been following it. I admit I haven't done any research on the shot up until today. We called Joey's old doctor's office at the clinic (he has a new doc since being adopted) and talked to the nurse who we completely trust. She said if he was still in foster care they would have called us come in for the shot. Since he was born three months premature and has a weak immune system, she said he would be susceptible to death if he got the swine flu. We went to Irondequoit Mall and got in line. We were told it would be at least two hours. No sooner were we in line when a security guard came over and said there was a clinic on West Ave. (not a good neighborhood) that was empty. A bunch of people left the line and headed over to West Ave. We got there, filled out the paperwork for Joey and got in line. We realized that all the adults around us were getting it too, and decided to get our paperwork and have the shot since we take in babies and clean houses were people have/had the swine flu. It ended up taking about 40 minutes to get in and out. Poor Joey wasn't happy. On the news tonight it showed the Irondequoit Mall with people outside in the cold rain waiting for up to six hours. That's nuts. I'm thankful we were in and out and hope there are no side effects for anyone.

I've been cranking along on my script. I've been working on it every little chance I have. After the shots today, we went to IHOP for lunch, then Mike dropped us off at a play place while he went and cleaned a house. We were there over 2 1/2 hours and while Joey played non-stop, I wrote. I also met an older woman who seriously talked to me non-stop. I've never in my life met anyone like this. She's going to make a great character in my scirpt.

Scripts and Other Ideas

There I was, cranking away at my script, when suddenly I had an idea. An idea that may save my script, but it's a BIG one that will take a lot of work and rewriting. A few days ago I signed up for Pilar Alessandra's rewrite class. I actually thought it was the first draft class, so it was an accident that I signed up for it. I've thought about signing up for her classes before, but it's so expensive I've always decided not to. To attend a class in person it's about $400, but to have the workbook sent to you through email for six weeks is only $100. Still a lot, but turning out to be worth it.

Before I received the first part of the workbook, I decided to re watch her DVD that takes you from premise to outline. It's an excellent way for people like me (who struggle with structure) to get everything down. Throughout the DVD she'll tell you what to do, then give ten minutes for you to apply it to your own story (it's filmed in front of a live class, so they actually have the 10 minutes). When you're done you can listen to what the people in her class did to see if you're on the right path.

Anyway, part way through the DVD she has the class write out two loglines. One from your main character and one from the pov of another character. Once I did that I realized the story would be a lot more interesting coming from the pov of a different character. I've been struggling with writing from the pov of a 38 year old man. The other character is a 37 year old woman. Something I have a little experience with. Now I feel like I'm starting all over.

On another note, just as I was falling asleep last night I had a comedy sketch idea that I'm going to work on. The local TV channel here has been looking for sketches to put on. I just finished the script for one that we'll be filming soon, and now I have another idea.

Something pretty cool happened last week. Back in September I had signed up for Gordy Hoffman's first ten pages workshop. I've taken it before and got a lot out of it; both friends and advice. Plus, he cut the price in half since this is his hometown. I ended up not being able to attend the class in September because Joey was sick. I asked if he'd still be willing to give me his feedback for the $45 I paid, and he agreed. Fast forward two months and I still hadn't heard anything even though I've seen him and traded emails. Last week he posted a pic on Facebook from the World Series. I emailed him and asked if I could trade my feedback (and $45) for a World Series souvenir for my die-hard Yankees fan husband. He ended up sending my husband a Yankees Championship tshirt and a program from the game (plus paid over $10 in shipping). THEN the next morning he sent me my feedback! I felt weird about getting both things, so I emailed him thanking him for everything and asking what I owed him for the Yankees stuff. He emailed me back and said he owed me the feedback and the Yankees stuff was a gift. Isn't that crazy?

Too Busy to Stop

It seems like I've been too busy to even blog lately. I'm learning that being a stay-at-home mom most days isn't as easy as people think it is. Sure I'm lucky to not have to go to work most days, but taking care of a 3 1/2 year old is much harder than cleaning three houses in a day. Boy, do I miss the days of napping. Today we went out to Williamson and to lunch with my brother, Charlie. Joey and I had chocolate chip pancakes (with sugar free syrup). They were loaded with chocolate chips. Way too many for someone who doesn't eat sugar. I'm used to the ones I make where there are about ten chips in the entire batter. Even Joey wouldn't eat them.

After lunch we went to Charlie's shop where he builds customs kitchens and he showed Joey around. Joey was very impressed with the piles of sawdust scattered around, and we spent quite a bit of time kicking it at each other. Then we went to the Dollar General with my dad because I was looking for a hose for Joey's Ghostbuster's costume. Before we even went to Williamson today, Joey and I stopped in Webster at the Kmart, Dollar store and Bj's (because he had to pee). In Kmart we took turns putting on Halloween masks and scaring each other. We were very loud.

I made a great dinner of chili with macaroni in it, gave Joey and bath, watched some funny videos with him, read some books and put him to bed. Now it's time to write and I'm whipped.

Cabin Fever No More

I finally made it out of the house after being stuck here for three days with a sicky. I ventured a whole eighth of a mile to Wegmans for bread and muffins. I felt like I hadn't been in public in years. I wanted to ask people what's happened in the past few days. What did I miss? It felt so great to be free for a few minutes that I even bought Mike a fish fry and stuffed clam as a surprise for dinner. I figured he was sick of having jambalaya three days in a row. See how wifely I am when I'm left to be alone for a few mintues?

After dinner we decided to go for a walk to tire Joey out. We walked to the townhouses across the street to show Joey a "spooky house." This lady had more Halloween crap in front of her house. As we were standing there I said to Mike, "Can you imagine what the inside of her house looks like? It has to be filled with crap." Just then she came to the door and asked if we wanted to come in and see what she had. Well, of course we did. I bolted for the front door leaving Joey and Mike behind. Never mind that I'd never met or even seen her before. I motioned for Mike to hurry up and dig his iPhone out for pictures. This was going to be good. And it was. There was not an inch of space in this house that wasn't covered with a pumpkin, dancing ghost, witch or skeleton. Her walls literally had no available space for hanging anything. Her living room was teeny tiny and had a large dog and two cats. The only open space was the couch (the old family room kind with the wood) that had a book on it. She must have been reading and saw us through the window. Mike took a bunch of pictures as I distracted her with small talk. In eight years of cleaning houses we've never been in one like this. I'm constantly amazed at how people keep their house. The people that you see out every day, the ones that are nice looking, nicely dressed, clean...they're houses can be the filthiest. I just don't get it.

Now for the important part. Let's see if I can load the pictures.

Film Festivals and Movie Premiers

Last Sunday the film I co-wrote, Thanksgiving, was shown at the Image Out Film Festival. I honestly wasn't looking forward to going. I've only seen the finished film on my laptop (about fifteen times). But nothing compares to seeing something you wrote up on a big screen. It was shown at the Dryden Theater at the Eastman House. My dad and his wife and Mike were there, plus my girlfriend that I wrote the film with. It brought tears to my eyes to see my name on the screen as a writer. To have a gay audience laugh at gay jokes that I wrote was unforgettable.

Unfortunately after ours was a documentary over an hour long about gays, trans genders, etc. It took everything in me to sit through the entire thing. It was all over the place and didn't focus on anything in particular. I hated it, and I feel bad saying that because I realize how much other people loved it. If it had been about twenty minutes it would have been OK. But over an hour...yikes.

After we left, Mike realized he didn't have his iPhone with him. He blamed me saying I rushed him out of there after the documentary. Which is true. After two trips back to the Dryden, someone had found it and gave it back.

Tuesday night about eight films from the Summer Shorts Challenge through Rochester Movie Makers was shown at Water Street Music Hall. I was really excited to have The Drug Dealer play in front of an audience. Thanksgiving played again also. It meant so much to me that our friends, Zach and Lisa, came that night. I invited a lot of people and they're the only ones who came. Next time I have a film play, I'm not inviting anyone. I'm not trying to sound over dramatic like anyone would really care that I made a film, but it meant a lot to me. A year ago at this time I was ready to give up writing (not really, just threatening to) because I wasn't getting anywhere. Since January when I decided to take every writing opportunity that came my way, I co-wrote a film that played at a festival and wrote and directed another. That's a huge deal to me. But I do understand that it isn't a huge deal to anyone else. But, honestly, if someone I loved did something they were proud of, I'd be right there with them to celebrate. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Tuesday night was a sell-out at WSMH. We didn't think we'd make enough to pay for the bartender, bouncer, etc. but we made more than enough so the filmmakers didn't have to put in. I was a little disappointed by the Drug Dealer. The sound was horrible and a lot of the jokes didn't get laughs even though they did during script reads. There was a loud humming from the restaurant's air conditioner and the score (music) was way too loud. I was actually prouder of Thanksgiving. That got a lot of laughs, though as my gay friend/director pointed out, the gays laughed harder.

All in all it was an unforgettable week in my writing career.

Lighting a Fire

I am truly learning the benefits of a deadline. I've never really had one with writing before. But now, with less than three weeks to finish (and start) a screenplay, I'm suddenly very productive. I spent a few hours at the library today and wrote outline for my script. It was going to be a brief summery of the story for my writing friend I'm meeting tomorrow, but it ended up being four pages long. I wish I could have stayed at the library for a few more hours, but I can't abandon the family all weekend. Maybe I can squeeze in some more writing time tonight.

I'm at that fun stage where I zone out thinking about my characters, dialogue and scenes. I caught myself going over dialogue and talking out loud as I was walking out of the library. I also don't remember how I got home. I know I left the library, but I was so into "writing" the first scene in my head, I magically appeared home. Plotting while driving can be dangerous.

Finally Not Tired

I think I've finally discovered the trick to not being tired all day (besides giving up sugar). The last two nights I've gone to bed around 9:30 and got up around 7:00 or whenever Joey decided to wake me up. I've felt great the past two days. I even came home from cleaning two big houses yesterday and cleaned our entire place.

We are still waiting to hear if we are pre-approved for a house. What was supposed to take "24 hours at the most," is going on two weeks. I had to write up a profit and loss statement and send it to our guy last night. Hopefully this will push the decision to yes from the underwriter. Being self-employed has a ton of perks, but trying to buy a house isn't one of them. Too much paperwork!

I have a meeting tonight with my new director about a short comedy I'm writing to be shot in September. It's so hard to write now that Joey doesn't nap anymore. (I'm hiding upstairs in the hallway writing this while he jumps around downstairs.) I used to love his two hour naps. I could clean up the house quick, then sit and write for a solid hour or more. Not anymore. I may have to start getting up at the crack of dawn to get anything done. Especially since someone else just mentioned me working on writing a feature film with him.

Speaking of films, I got to watch a rough cut of my film yesterday. It was so good! Rough...but good. I can't wait to see it when it's all done. I'm going over the the dp's house this weekend or next week to help him with some stuff. Thanks to the lead actor I have the music for the soundtrack.

Today Joey has OT and his psychologist coming. After that I'm taking him to Vanessa's for a playdate. With the kids, we don't get together and talk as much as we used to, so I'm looking forward to it!

Officially a Filmmaker

I was too beat last night from filming all day (then going to a birthday party) to write anything. Today was our last day of filming at the Bamba Bistro. I loved directing much more than I thought I would. I was pretty sure I only wanted to stick to writing the scripts and not anything else. But thanks to the actors and crew I had a blast both days, and can't wait to do it again. Which will be sometime in September (as assistant director) for a film I'm writing now.

The best part was my husband was there both days. Today my dad and his wife came to be extras, along with my husband. I was also an extra in the first shot of the restaurant. And one fun fact: on a close up of a phone call the main actor takes from a doctor, I called him from my phone and he programmed his phone to read "Dr. Miles" calling. (Please address me as such in the future) Pictures from the film are on Facebook.

Now I have two days worth of a messy house to clean up. The yuckiest part is the crock pot full of inedible cream of broccoli soup my husband made last night. It was a new recipe and came out horrible for some reason. Thank God for Mark's Pizzeria!

Too Late to Back Out Now

After a very long day of still feeling crappy with a sinus infection, cleaning three houses, grocery shopping, playing with Joey for hours, putting him to bed, cutting Mike's hair and getting everything organized for tomorrow, I'm finally ready to sit. Tomorrow is the first day of filming on my movie The Drug Dealer. I'm excited and anxious at the same time. Part of me just wants it all to be over and suddenly be Monday. I don't want anything to go wrong like actors not showing up, the restaurant giving us a problem...I'm sure there are a million other things that can happen. Mike worked so hard after work today to make a fantastic meatloaf dinner. Plus he's making a special crock-pot chili for the crew and actors tomorrow. I'm so afraid I'm not going to have enough food for everyone, but Mike says I have too much. I hope so.

Hopefully I can persuade my Still Photographer friend to take a bunch of pictures with my camera so I can post them.

I think the worst part about tomorrow will be not seeing Joey all day. He's going to his cousin's birthday party without us.

Now it's time for dvr'd Nurse Jackie, then early to bed.

I Should Be Moving

I have a million and one things to do before the filming of my movie this weekend. And here I sit. But I have a good excuse: a butt-kicking sinus infection. One of the worst I've had.

My in-laws, God bless them, just picked Joey up and took him to their house to play with his cousins, then out for dinner. They said they'll bring him home around 7:30 (!). It's only 3:00 right now. I have hours to myself to get everything done for Saturday. Or...I can sleep.

So, how is a girl who has struggled to get her writing "out there" directing her own movie in two days? This past January my writing friend and I made a pact to take any writing opportunities that came our way. We agreed to pursue any small connection we might have in order to further our careers and make friends in the industry. The first thing I did was answer an ad on Craigslist for a writer in a sketch comedy group. The group only lasted a few months, but out of that I wrote seven decent comedy sketches.

When I joined the group, I invited a Director Guy that I had met a year previously at a screenwriting workshop. He had written a short screenplay and was also interested in directing. (Make those connections!) After a few weeks of comedy meetings, this guy invited my girlfriend (the one I made the pact with) to his house to give him feedback on his script. We gave him our ideas and it turned out he wanted us to write it for him. We did, and the film, Thanksgiving, was shot in April '09.

I joined Rochester Movie Makers in February and have met some wonderfully talented people. In March I entered a ten-page script into a screenwriting competition. I was reluctant to enter it, but glad I did when I placed second. That is the film being shot this weekend. I've had a ball sitting in on auditions, read-throughs, rehearsals and everything else involved in making a movie. I have the opportunity, because of Rochester Movie Makers (RMM), to learn anything I'm interested in about film making. I'm directing my film, The Drug Dealer, but I'm really still learning and watching over Director Guy's shoulder (who is my director of photography (dp) for this film).

A few weeks ago I was contacted by another member of RMM who said I was recommended to him to write a script for a film he wants to shoot in August. New Film Dude and I met at Spot coffee one night and I gave him about twenty film ideas. We picked one and brainstormed on it. I've written the first draft and am waiting for my film to finish being shot before rewriting it. He said I could be as much a part of making the movie as I'd like. At first I thought I'd just write it and maybe help out in some small way. But he asked if I'd be assistant director (ad) and I agreed.

All this because I made a pact to say Yes.