Saturday, June 19th, 2010

Saturday, June 19th, 2010

Woke up. Urinated. Went back to bed but didn’t fall asleep. Got up again. Tried to clean up all the papers and magazines and junk on my chair but ended up just moving them to a less-used chair. Went to Shaw’s to see if I had a picture in the Herald. No. Ate breakfast at Angora. Nothing worth writing about happened. Went back home. Got my suitcase packed for my film festival in Somerville Theatre tonight. Worked on a drawing. The pencil point kept breaking and the room was really humid even with the AC on. Spent half an hour just looking for a piece of acetate to cover part of the drawing so the oil from my hand wouldn’t smudge it. Made a phone call I can’t talk about. Made another phone call I can talk about but don’t remember. Worried about the film festival. Urinated. Took some trains to the film festival. Quite difficult with the crowds and the suitcase and humidity and nowhere to sit, not even on the stairs in back. Got there early. They only let me put up one flyer in the lobby and wouldn’t let me hand out flyers in the lobby. Some rather impatient guy showed me how to use the DVD projector. My friend Mike showed up, actually early this time. He had a bad cold but still showed up, which was nice. None of the other actors showed up even though I emailed all of them. Only five people showed up for the first screening, and none at all for the second. Angry. After it seemed sure that no one was going to show up for the third, we left. Their loss. The few people who showed up gave me a lot of compliments. Need to promote the shit out of the Coolidge thing. On the way out I noticed that someone who worked in the theatre had taken down all the flyers with arrows directing people to the obscure basement theatre at the end of 2 hallways. Way to support struggling indie filmmakers, Somerville Theatre! Took the trains home. Made some calls I can’t talk about. Urinated. Ate an eggplant parmesian dinner from the microwave. The pasta was a gross consistency, like melted plastic. Turned on my AC. Called four people, but only got voicemail. Left one message, which I can’t write about. Wrote this blog. Went to bed.

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