Weebles Wobble
"Weebles wobble and then, with a subtle sigh, resign themselves to gravity, and sadly, slowly, fall to the ground."
I had another vivid dream last night, but I can remember only small bits of it. Jason Schwartzman and I were trying to pitch a film to a producer. It was Schwartzman's idea, and he was bringing me in to back him up.
It had something to do with a guy whose dog used to scratch the hardwood floors with his nails. After the dog finally died, the man replaced the floor with ceramic tiles. And yet, the man kept hearing dog sounds. And then, one fateful day, the tiles were scratched. This was very high concept horror, I suppose. This is what Schwartzman wanted me to punch up.
The producer got furious with us. His investor, a doctor, had just lost his temper at him and thrown a tantrum in the middle of the hospital. The movie was a no-go. Homosexuality was involved, as were crayons, but I'm not clear on the details. Either way, he was blaming our poorly-presented concept, and particularly, my lack of experience in the field.
I tried to defend my industry cred, but I could only think of my time at Niad Management, which I blew way out of proportion. I couldn't remember the Steel Company, not that it would have helped. The Transcription Stuff didn't come up.
Afterward, Jason Schwartzman said he was going to leave New York and go back home to become an architect or something, and his mom was there to pick him up. I was going to have to find a new roommate for myself. I was very sad. I would no longer have a screenwriter friend, and I hugged him, and tried to convince him to stay. But he left, and I woke up in Los Angeles.
Jason Schwartzman is not a screenwriter. He is an actor and a boyfriend to Zooey Deschanel, my favorite actress. I want to cast her in something. Sometimes thinking about how badly I want to cast her in something, I actually get some writing done on somethings.
Anyway, I woke up feeling that I'd accomplished very little in the year+plus that I've been in Los Angeles, thinking that maybe I should go back to school and become a lawyer. I'd be a very good lawyer, and a better judge. I like to argue. Shouting is one of my favorite things. Perhaps, someday, I could be a supreme court justice. Or a professional shouter.
I had another vivid dream last night, but I can remember only small bits of it. Jason Schwartzman and I were trying to pitch a film to a producer. It was Schwartzman's idea, and he was bringing me in to back him up.
It had something to do with a guy whose dog used to scratch the hardwood floors with his nails. After the dog finally died, the man replaced the floor with ceramic tiles. And yet, the man kept hearing dog sounds. And then, one fateful day, the tiles were scratched. This was very high concept horror, I suppose. This is what Schwartzman wanted me to punch up.
The producer got furious with us. His investor, a doctor, had just lost his temper at him and thrown a tantrum in the middle of the hospital. The movie was a no-go. Homosexuality was involved, as were crayons, but I'm not clear on the details. Either way, he was blaming our poorly-presented concept, and particularly, my lack of experience in the field.
I tried to defend my industry cred, but I could only think of my time at Niad Management, which I blew way out of proportion. I couldn't remember the Steel Company, not that it would have helped. The Transcription Stuff didn't come up.
Afterward, Jason Schwartzman said he was going to leave New York and go back home to become an architect or something, and his mom was there to pick him up. I was going to have to find a new roommate for myself. I was very sad. I would no longer have a screenwriter friend, and I hugged him, and tried to convince him to stay. But he left, and I woke up in Los Angeles.
Jason Schwartzman is not a screenwriter. He is an actor and a boyfriend to Zooey Deschanel, my favorite actress. I want to cast her in something. Sometimes thinking about how badly I want to cast her in something, I actually get some writing done on somethings.
Anyway, I woke up feeling that I'd accomplished very little in the year+plus that I've been in Los Angeles, thinking that maybe I should go back to school and become a lawyer. I'd be a very good lawyer, and a better judge. I like to argue. Shouting is one of my favorite things. Perhaps, someday, I could be a supreme court justice. Or a professional shouter.
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