Lifestyles of the penniless and obscure - In need of drinky, thy name is Astrid

So this has been a busy week. I filmed for the webisode thing, the night before we filmed the slasher, where I got to die by getting my heart ripped out. Rather messy, all good fun. I stilll have sticky corn syrup in my car. It's a bitch when it gets everywhere. I am really looking forward to doing some real films sometime. I'm rather tired of zombie/splatter films. Especially when the director doesn't even say "rolling" when he's ready to film. Where is Martin Scorsese???

Speaking of which...today I was called to do a film I emailed about, only to get there and realise it was all highschoolers. I was hoping for Martin to show up. I think he's busy in L.A. and couldn't come...

I almost signed up with a new agency. Except that the agency has fees. And rule #1: never go with an agency that makes you pay. Even though the said agencies seem able to give you more work than the free agency you are already a PART of...I almost got in a jam, because I technically signed the contract. I was scared she was going to hold me to that. I'm stupid that way. People put a contract in front on me and I just automatically sign. Like those infomercials. Could be advertising the stupidest product ever and I'd want one.

About to do a photoshoot for my friend. She has recently submitted a book of photos I took of her to a contest, only for both of us to discover the venue we took the shots in makes you pay a $500 commercial fee. She's paying it. Mum told me not to feel guilty. I didn't even want to enter the photos in the contest. How come I still feel guilty?

There's a scene in Hannah and Her Sisters where the old guy, rhe curmudgeon and boyfriend to Barbra Hershy says to her, "I'm at a point in my life where I just can't be around people." Why must I constantly be in a Woody Allen movie?

I'm still trying to write every day. I can't write anything simple. Everything has to turn into a commentary on social issues, cultural stereotypes, religion and general allegory/metaphor.

A friend of mine is going back to London in October. She wants me to come and be her flatmate. I need some major cabbage to make this do-able.

And guess who got the snotty end of the phone line when I had to call a client who was pissed off because no one got back to her about a shoot she needed....a shoot that should've been given to ME by MY employer who doesn't check his sodding WEBSITE to see new ORDERS. Yup.