There’s a building not far from my house that takes me back to December of 2004 each time I drive past. It’s not a good memory, but rather one that still gives me shivers eight and a half years later.
It’s the memory of a night I suddenly couldn’t remember what I was doing and freaked out as I tried to do my job.
We were close to finishing the first day of shooting for my short film, “We’re the Government — and You’re Not.” Even though I didn’t really know what I was doing, I was the writer and director, and I was sharing the producer duties. I honestly didn’t know until that day just how little I knew.
Even though the day had been a blur, things had generally gone well except for my car having a flat tire at the next-to-last shooting location of the day. (I rode around on the little “doughnut spare” all weekend because I didn’t have time to fix the tire.) I was waiting for one last prop to come in the mail. It was days late, but we thought it would be there. I ran to my house and it wasn’t there — and it was time to shoot the scene. I didn’t have a back-up plan.
Dishonesty runs rampant when partisanship matters more than truth
I’m still hungry for healthy love that my 5-year-old self craved
Can I reconnect with inner child who saw the world differently?
All humans are a little bit insane; we’re not as rational as we think
I don’t care where Pedro is from, but I’m happy he’s my neighbor
Few things satisfy like giving thoughtful gifts to those we love
I still feel shame for wanting to pursue the desires of my heart
Italy sending seismologists to jail for failing to predict big earthquake
Those Libyan ‘freedom fighters’ we paid for? They’re murdering thugs