We think someone Talented Mr. Ripley'd him.

I did not sleep well last night. Today was a little rough. But the actual shooting was very light. We just did a bunch of small scenes of Dolly by herself. Dolly takes out the trash. Dolly gets in the car. Dolly gets super depressed on a children's swing set. Dolly tends to the garden. Dolly talks to her parents on the phone. Dolly looks for a shovel and tests how deep the bay water goes. You know. Just everyday shit.

Now that he's wrapped, Chris is on Phoebe-watching detail. I can see it is trying for him, and I definitely sympathize. Phoebe is really cool, but a lot of the time, she cries when nothing is wrong. She screams bloody murder after suffering very mild disappointment. What if I did that? Just bawled every time I got depressed? I would never stop. At one point, I followed Chris outside to help calm Phoebe down, and on my way back in, I slammed the front door right on my fingertip. And it hurt extra bad because I wasn't able to curse in front of Phoebe. Studies have proven that cursing can help psychologically alleviate pain. My finger still hurts. Consarn it.

Crew has tricked out the property's golf cart with film equipment to make it all pimp. It's all gonna have to come off on Wednesday for the golf cart scenes. But until then, we're the envy of the low speed, narrow range electric vehicle set. Is this a life hack?

The reward of the day was chess and ping pong. I've decided to play the long con on these people. Make them think I'm just an okay player. Then, after a week or so, make 'em go double or nothing until I own them. To really sell it, I'll also act really stupid on set. "Has anyone seen my script?" "Are we rolling?" "Where does the film go?"

-Diego