Sometimes I'm just a glutton for punishment.
Lats night we were up rather late drinking after the screening of our film. Youd think I'd try to make it a short day.
So, it's up and at 'em. Scott delays going into work until after dropping me at the airport, so I pack up, we grab breakie at a nearby cafe, then I say bye to his kitty, Gloria, and we're off to the airport.
On the way I call my friend Diana, whom I knew was flying TO Portland this morning. She's just landed as we leave Scott's. Ships that pass on the freeway...or something.
Goodbyes said, I check in at Portland's airport. No sooner have I cleared security than I see a familiar face. I walk over. He looks up. "Good Time Charlie" I say, pointing at him. Yep, it's the actor who played the title roll in one of the films ours was screened with. He's heading home to L.A. I give him my card, we chat, then he's off to the plane.
The flight home is uneventful, and I finish the book I've been reading: If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor, by Bruce Campbell. It's a fun book, and oddly inspirational for someone who wants to make movies.
I'm in the office by 3. Now the fun begins. Right off, I see our visitor from Japan and wave, and he waves back rather tentatively. It's clear he doesn't recognize me. This theory is supported by the numerous double takes I receive from co-workers, some of whom don't realize who I am at first. I guess the shaved-head and lip makes me look a lot different. I suspect the latter especially.
Scott calls from Portland to say our short didn't win the audiece favorite last night. The winner? Good Time Charlie. I suspected as much... Scott's upset. I'm not surprised by the result.
I'm pretty beat, but I do get some work accomplished. I find my car where I left it on Saturday in the company garage. Now I have to drive to Cupertino for a Yakiniku dinner with our visitor and some select co-workers. The food's fantastic (as usual), but I deflect the drinks as much as possible. I'm tired and still have to drive an hour to get home. Finally, we part and 10 p.m. and I hit the road. I text message one of my friends as I leave. He texts me back as I arrive in S.F. He is getting off work at 11 p.m.
Now, I should just go home and sleep. This is where I get really stupid. I go have a drink with him in the Castro. It's great to see him, but I'm fading fast.
1 a.m. and I get home and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....
silly
cheeky