On Tuesday morning, we went to Target to get the usual provisions. I purchased a new pair of jeans (to replace the ones destroyed on Sunday). It took me a few tries to find ones in an acceptable style and color. There's many designs, including carpenter pants that have lots of pockets and strappy things. But I doubt real carpenters are buying their work clothes at Target. Let's call these what they are. Pretend Carpenters. I decided not to be that guy. I just kinda wanna fit in. This Target is less than two years old (basically the same age as Phoebe). It's in the town of Easton about 18 miles away, and the short trips we make there are the only thing keeping me in touch with civilization.
Living in Los Angeles, there are advertisements for everything everywhere. I'm never not looking at a billboard or bus stop poster for a thousand different TV shows that will probably be canceled within the year. I'm constantly aware of exactly what movies are coming out in theatres and on video, and all day long in the back of my head, I have an ongoing list of what I'm going to see next. Out here in this rural part of Maryland, there's no advertisements for anything, except a bunch of different names that want me to vote for them for sheriff or something. I have no idea what movies are in theatres right now. Though I kinda prefer it this way, it's still not ideal. I don't like living in a big city, nor do I like being far away from the movies. I guess the ideal living situation for me, in terms of everything, is
nearby.
Shooting went fine. One shot required an L-shaped path of apple boxes for Priscilla to walk on, because Carl is 17 feet tall. Later on, Anne put a lot of woman's make-up on Carl's face, and then showed us how to work the player piano. You stick a scroll in and pump the pedals and it plays music for you. This was the thing before mp3 players.
I wish the other people on here blogged more.
-Diego
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