Jumping Rope, Jill Freedman, 1976Hey whadya know, it's been a month! Congratulations to me! I've only had a few things to deal with this last month: like a paralyzed dog, a staggering vet bill, a difficult decision to make about how much the dog was worth, a laptop that was leaked on by a bottleful of water and, hmmm, what else? A new job, a looming deadline, a few parking tickets...ok, now I am starting to reach. I've been busy and I haven't even read any blogs, let alone write one. Not that I really read many anymore. Most of them have gone offline. I suppose it's cyclical and I admire those that can keep up. Kinda like keeping up with the latest in fashion, music and drugs! Impossible! As one reaches towards their, ahem, thirties, one has to let go a little bit.
I am sure you are all dying to know about my new job. Well, too bad I can't tell you! If I had to sign a confidentiality agreement at the interview stage, you can imagine the security issues as an employee. Let's just say there is a gun safe, surveillance cameras, alarms, locks, passwords and protections...you name it they got it. All for what? For a summer blockbuster that will be all over You Tube in no time. But who am I to complain? It's my first foray into the narrative world and it's a helluva lot better than the murder-reenactment reality TV stuff I was editing a few years ago. But don't get confused. I'm not actually editing this narrative blockbuster. No siree. I am merely editing the Blu-Ray extras. But for now, it'll do and it pays handsomely...gun safe and all.
The only other news is that I am traveling to the East Coast this week for my film. Yes, another festival has deemed us worthy of its laurels. Too bad we blew our wad on the premiere. We didn't even bother printing up postcards, and now I feel kinda like a chump. Oh well, it's too late now! So far none of the tropical island festivals have invited our film, but we keep applying. Right about now, I'd take a free trip anywhere.
