Sex

I’m learning that it’s a dangerous thing to have a blog people actually read. You begin editing your comments based on who might stop by to see what you’ve said about them. It’s inevitable. Of course, then you run the risk of posting something so bland and vague no one will want to read it… which, granted, eliminates the problem.

LL is a perfect example; she’s living with me temporarily until she can get a place with her friend Amanda. It’s been about six weeks now, and there’s a lot I’d like to say about her, but she reads my blog (hi!). By writing about her, I run the risk of revealing something she considers private, saying something unintentionally hurtful, or, worst of all, posting something that reads as if I’m trying to manipulate her in a passive-aggressive fashion knowing she’ll read it.

Oy. Lemme just say it’s been interesting. We get along great, and despite the fact that we spend a fair amount of time discussing why we could never work as a couple, it kinda feels like dating. Well, dating with a lot less sex (we’ve fooled around three times since she moved in, which is about %7 or what I would expect from a relationship). Except for the times when it makes me feel infinitely more alone (because when I pierce the illusion and analyze what we’re really doing, I am), it’s been nice. It felt all warm and fuzzy to come home from Moscow knowing I wasn’t sleeping alone.

Speaking of, I know I still haven’t posted my Moscow pix, but I’ve been working almost non-stop since I got back. I’ve done re-shoots for the horror film I’m not yet allowed to name (I’m calling it REDACTED, not to be confused with the shitty Brian DePalma movie of the same name), done callbacks for Cowboys & Engines (that will be it’s own blog post to announce the Kickstarter campaign going up), I’ve plotted two scripts for Axel, shot for x3sixty and worked as the DP on Paul Thomas’ reboot of Behind the Green Door for Vivid.

The latter was enough to keep me occupied all on its own. PT likes to “deconstruct,” as he calls it, which amounts to not deciding anything until we’re on set, and then almost certainly doing anything other than what’s on the page. Having been down that road on his New Sensations movie, I was actually the calmest person on the production, but there were moments when Shylar and/or K (who was doing production design) wanted to kill him. I think if John Cassavetes had directed porn, this is very much what it would have been like.

A few days ago, against my better judgement, I went to see Vega. I would like to say it was motivated by something more than a need for butt sex and the desire to beat the crap out of someone… but I would be lying. If we had any chemistry outside the bedroom (or bathroom in this case), it would be a different story. But we don’t.

Today (if United ever stops cancelling our flights) I’m off to San Francisco to finish up Green Door. I even managed to set up a really interesting date for Saturday night with a hot redhead (can’t say I go for a type…).

I’ve got two more days of x3sixty when I get back, then it’s all C&E all the time. Which is how it should be.

First off, welcome to my newly-redesigned blog. Hope you like it, ’cause I did it myself. Well, me and a fresh install of Artisteer.

Vega’s been out of town (way out of town) for a while, now, so things are quiet on that front.

Blue came over Wednesday night. We had an amazing time — as we always do — and I finally sent her home around 2:30am. During the course of the evening, we looked up the origin of the phrase roman à clef, decided I need a memory foam mattress and realized I need to take her to the breathtakingly strange and awesome Museum of Jurassic Technology. It was a delicious evening. And I needed it, as this week has been intensely bittersweet.

On Monday, I got word from a company I’ve done lots of work with that I’m going to be relegated to directing the shittiest, low-budget features you can possibly do and still complete a movie. It was a real slap in the face. The kick in the balls was swallowing my pride and taking it with a smile because I’m in constant, dire financial straits and can’t afford the luxuries of ego, self-esteem or convictions. Still, I can’t help but wonder how many fucking awards you have to win…

I made the mistake of trying to vent to the wrong friend, and was utterly shut down. That was fun. Luckily, a different friend was there to rant right alongside me several hours later, and I was able to laugh it off the next day. Y’know, in a bitter, dying-on-the-inside kinda way.

Ha.

Speaking of funny, while I was tidying up my place before Blue’s arrival, it struck me that I’ve decorated with a lot of broken clocks. I contemplated for a moment, then this struck me:

I like surrounding myself with broken clocks. They give me the illusion that I can stop time.”

Of course, that’s what this blog is. All writing, really, is just an exercise in freezing a moment of time. Writing is photography for the mind.

On the upside, I’ve added several scenes to Cowboys & Engines, to flesh out the story and the world, and I’m really happy with what it’s become. I’m getting to that stage where I wake up thinking about it, and it runs as a subroutine in the back of my brain all day long. I’m excited about this like I haven’t been in years. I sent the script out to several people whose opinions I value, and the response has been overwhelming. If we can pull this off, it’s going to really shine.

Had a great meeting with Satine Phoenix, who is going to do some of our character design for the piece. Got everyone on the crew started on their own projects, and things are moving along.

Last night, I got together with Amber Rayne at a downtown ramen place that I believe K & I discovered and introduced to the porn community, by and large. Now it’s a common spot for the DTLA porn crowd. Red goes there all the time, and while I was waiting for Amber to show, Kimberly Kane, her boyfriend Igor, and Nate Liquor arrived.

Amber had actually already done some rough sketches based on the script, and I can’t wait to see what she comes up with.

Today, I have to make the Grand Circle Tour into the Valley of Timesuck, then come home and pound out what promises to be the worst parody script I’ve ever set hand to. I mean bad. Should take three hours to write.

I’ll post some choice bits of dialogue. When I’m done, it’s back to work on C&E… because I can’t stop thinking about it, and that’s a miraculous thing.

Your Thought For the Day

I got up at 5 am Friday morning to head to Comic-Con before traffic got horrendous. My plan was to get to San Diego, find parking, grab breakfast and have time to prowl the exhibit hall for most of the day. And it worked. The drive was relatively painless, and I only had to wait in line for half an hour to get a breakfast sandwich at Subway.

I should interject here that I am one of those people who thinks Comic-Con has completely outgrown its fishbowl, and continuing to have it in San Diego is a disservice to the fans it claims to cater to. Of course, having to wait 45 minutes to pay $19 for a cheeseburger will do that to you… but that’s a blog for another day.

The fact is, I’m not a very good geek. I don’t care about meeting comic book writers or artists. I’m unconcerned with how the LGBT community is portrayed in genre fiction. I don’t want to know how to cosplay any Buffy characters. During a normal SDCC trip, I spend the majority of my time prowling the exhibit hall anyway. I just don’t have the patience to wait for hours to get into the ballroom or hall H to see 5 minutes of a film that isn’t coming out for a year, or listen to Shane Black answering questions only a fan would ask (i.e., retarded ones). Watching all this going on around me, I decided Comic-Con is just Burning Man for people who read books.

I would have skipped it completely, but this year I had two reasons for going. The first was to make face-to-face contact with as many steampunk craftspeople as possible to source props and costumes for the short I keep mentioning, and in that regard, I was very successful. The second was to attend the screening of Natural 20, a short made by my friends John & Brusta, which was screening in the SDCC Film Festival. That went very well, and they won best humor short.

Not the worst Black Widow at Comic-Con. By far.

As it happened, this was my first time being at SDCC by myself, and it was a fairly lonely experience. I would see something cool or interesting, and had no one to discuss it. Two years ago, Comic-Con was all unfortunate mother/daughter Silk Spectre teams, which Mischief & I mocked mercilessly. Last year, it was bad Baronesses. This year was a plethora of embarrassing Black Widows and Harley Quinns, and I couldn’t share the pain. Tweeting “Huh. Batman is 5’2″ and fat. Who knew?” just isn’t the same thing as getting to say it in the moment.

Since I had a spare professional guest badge, I had originally planned for D to come down with me for the day, but our mutual poor communication skills fucked it up. Then, when she realized I was there alone, Vega began threatening to come down and join me which wasn’t going to happen. Again, too high-maintenance for Comic-Con, and I wasn’t about to add that stress. So we text-fought over that for a few hours while I walked the halls.

Alice & 50 Baht arrived that night. I met them for dinner after the Natural 20 screening, gave them my badges so they could spend Saturday & Sunday at the con, and headed home.

I spent most of the weekend editing a piece I shot for a pay-per-view channel, although I did get talked into going to Vega’s house Sunday night… See this conversation to figure out how that happened. We didn’t end up making a screening of Savages, so Vega got to sit through Prometheus, which she hadn’t seen, with a butt plug about the size of a coke can stuffed in her. Scary movies get her excited anyway; as a result, I don’t think she could even tell you what happened in the movie.

When I got up to leave around 3 am, she kept her promise and didn’t say a word about me staying. Tonight, I turned down a cooked meal to work, and I don’t know when I have a free night to see her again. I have plans Wednesday, I’m doing the Dark Knight marathon Thursday, seeing Blue Friday, and covering the Urban X Awards Saturday.

In the meantime, I had several ideas for Cowboys & Engines on the drive to SD. The more progress we make, the more excited I get about this thing.

Yesterday. 6:30 pm.

Me: I’m working.

Vega: I know, but I had a thought about tonight…

Me: My thought is that I’m working.

Vega: I think you should come over.

Me: What we’re dealing with here is failure to communicate.

Vega: Hang on… you should come over and rape my ass… just use me. Dump your come in me, and then shove that huge metal butt plug in me. I’ll keep it in, and we’ll go see Savages. When we get home, we can do it all again.

Me: Okay, that’s tempting.

Vega: You know you want to. And I won’t ask you to stay.

Me: Go rinse your ass. I’m on my way.

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