Maybe this is the new path of my life’s journey–what do YOU think?
I’m sorta new to Facebook and Twitter and all other forms of social networking, but I wanted to upload the video I shot of TheFurFiles during our most recent Skyped chick date–a shopping adventure and the final reveal of the chosen gown.
After spending two days researching “how to” on Google and WordPress.com, I discovered that I can’t upload self-made video the same way as photos are uploaded unless I purchase the upgrade–which I’m not about to do YET–and you’ll most definitely agree with that decision–as soon as you view my first foray into filmmaking.
The only way I could figure out how to accomplish this was to first upload to my Facebook account and then inbed it as a link. This took about two hours, not kidding.
Attempts to be famous
I tried to create something spectacular in iMovie. As you will see and AGREE, that didn’t happen. What is most upsetting to me–and which I will share with you as a tugboat wife’s confession– is the knowledge that I studied filmmaking in graduate school at San Diego State University.
Yup, I switched mid-stream from Education to the Dramatic Arts with the hopes that I would be a force to be reckoned with behind as well as in front of the camera. And we know where that led to, right? It led NOWHERE.
Six degrees of separation from Dustin Hoffman without a restraining order
Well…at one time I did have Dustin Hoffman’s dad’s telephone number, but I called so much, they changed the number. That is a possibly true and possibly not true story. I won’t tell.
How I annoyed Gene Wilder
During the aforementioned carefree college days, I worked part-time at a restaurant in a fancy shmancy area on
the a beach. I won’t give the restaurant a name because they weren’t very nice to me and I quit. If you must know THAT story–well–here it is.
I was the hostess/cashier and one day I had to leave my “post” to use the restroom. I’m a girl–we pee a lot and my mom said we should never hold it or we’ll get a UTI, right? The maitre de (asshole) told me I COULD NOT GO UNTIL MY APPROVED BREAK TIME. Being the quick witted girl that I was learning to become, I told him that was FINE WITH ME as long as he cut a hole in the stool I was sitting on and put a bucket under it, because I was going to urinate (yes, I said urinate, not pee) one way or another. And then I got up, flounced out, and never came back. True, true, all true, hand over heart, pinky swear TRUE. This incident happened AFTER the Gene Wilder adventure in humiliation.
Back to Gene Wilder. He was there. Eating. Not with Gilda Radner, but with a group of men. I can’t remember the year, but it was prolly around 1975-ish. Picture this. I see him. I’m thinking to myself, he’ll see me, want my number, my agent’s number, he’s gonna cast me in a film, I’m gonna be discovered, I’m gonna be famous, I’m gonna have a starring role, I’m gonna be FAMOUS with capital letters!!!! So…I fluff out my hair–you’ve seen it and you know that it needs no fluffing. (I can picture you shaking your head in agreement.) I then UNBUTTON PRETTY MUCH MY ENTIRE BLOUSE so that my non-existent cleavage is fully displayed. I’m so excited that I’m hyperventilating, right? Can you see it? I smear on more lipstick and and lip gloss-a little pouty lip action–and saunter across the the dining room to his table. I channel my inner Marilyn Monroe….jutting our my best assets, and with a throaty voice, bend over to show it all, and I say,
“Uh, helllooo Mr. Wilder. I just love—”
That was IT. That was as far as I got, because he turned to me with his stupid blue eyes and
ratty curly blond hair and replied in a curt and abruptly dismissive tone,
“Could you please go away and stop bothering us?”
and to make it even worse–if that was even possible–he followed that with
“And I’m not giving any autographs, either.”
Of course I turned the brightest shade of fuchsia, flop sweat formed under my armpits and dripped slowly down my body, and I tripped over myself as I swiftly slinked away, dying a little bit with every step. If only I could have had the courage THEN that I have NOW, I would have told him he didn’t have to be so mean to a sweet and innocent nineteen-year-old with stars in her eyes. A little empathy–a little compassion-goes a long way. Perhaps events like this helped to form and engender the unleashing of my inner beeyotch. (And yes, he complained to the management about me.)
Back to the original storyline…
So far, TheFurFiles and I have had two Skype-dates. Apple pie baking was our first fun activity together. This was her first pie experience and she came through it without a scratch. Her pie looked amazing! (I’m a pretty good coach, if I do say so myself.)
This time, she needed a couple of gowns for two special events and I thought I’d tag along to give my valuable input–but really, who am I fooling–I love to shop! Even though we’re 2833 miles apart. (I had to look that up cos I had NO idea where Ottowa was.) Picture this: I’m at home in SoCal, sitting on my pink and grey/green sofa adorned with animal print pillows–and I’m Skyping.
Ms. Furry is in a department store (geez, do they even have those things in the wilds of Canada?) with her husband wielding her iPhone and Skyping me. I have my basic point and shoot camera videotaping the “trying on” of gowns and cocktail dresses. It is her HUBS that can’t keep the phone horizontal. THAT isn’t my fault, but I left it in my clip thinking it made a sort of artistic point-but upon further reflection, I’m not sure what that could BE.
A disclaimer is important to post here. This is not quite the worst video you’ll ever see. The worst one EVER is the vid of my son’s commencement ceremony. Without a doubt, it would win every “worst ever” contest. This is a close runner-up. Go ahead and laugh, it’s OK! Like the title of this post admits, I know I’m no threat to Scorsese! (One day I’ll figure out how to post my son’s vid and embarrass him and yes, that’s a threat.)
- Martin Scorsese’s film magic on display in Berlin (cbc.ca)
- 13 Directors Who Work With the Same Stars Again and Again (mentalfloss.com)
- ‘The Quiet Man’ is one of the greatest films ever says Martin Scorsese – VIDEO (irishcentral.com)