Stop rocking. Stop rocking. Stop rocking. It was all I could say to myself, and there I am at 15 years old on the stage at Clay High School and guess what? I’m rocking. Later, when watching portions of the cast video that Joy and Naomi were manically prancing about recording, I hear them under their breath: stop rocking, stop rocking, Patrick, stop rocking. Apparently, I was rocking. And I feel like I was today, except on a stool.

I do not belong in front of the camera. Not in 94, not for Notre Dame film students. On stage, maybe. Maybe if I get the quarter turns right, but I always end up with my ass pointing at the audience. I get lost in the moment, I move naturally, I talk naturally - really fast - and the next thing you know I’m mumbling, mooning, and making the audience motion sick. I’m not cut out for this.

And being not cut out for this, you can imagine my surprise and frustration when Adrian couldn’t get his s*** together when he’s been on stage in front of casting agents, and critics and audiences galore in Los Angeles with his dick hanging out - naked - getting standing ovations, and I’m gonna do better in this circumstance, with just him and Ryan and me in a make shift studio with a green screen borrowed from some underachieving local filmmakers and the ability to retake as many times as you need (30s).

And then it’s all trash. The green screen is so combed into the interlace that I can’t pull a key without making Adrian’s eyes go amber. And he blames me and Ryan. Like we weren’t paying attention. Like we weren’t fed up with him too. Like we’ve done this countless times before; like we’re supposed to notice when the batteries are dying in the mic pack; like we’re supposed to be professionals — like we’re supposed to know exactly what we’re doing in a makeshift sound stage in a makeshift studio in a collection of offices in a bad part of town where we should be packin’ 9s and have some bad ass grills.

I did okay though. But Adrian wasn’t having it. He insisted that he redo the voice over for the collaborators just in case it would feel better with his voice instead, you know, because he’s a professional.

We’re going to have to re-shoot his stuff again… and he is going to freak out so hard on me that he may hit me in the face. Because, everything is my fault, you see — cause I have the computer. I should know better.

1:17 am

tags: fight, green screen, joy, naked, presentation