Friday, December 7, 2007

In which we say “stop looking at my tits you chooth

The film industry is a funny place. Funny and weird. Correction. Funny, weird and sleazy.

As I walked out of a film set this week, I left feeling a bit confused. Sleazy famous director talked to my breasts when I asked him the way out of the labyrinth of vanity vans and then shared a lewd joke with his associate director as soon as I was not safely out of earshot. I didn’t really want to know the way out of course. As part of today’s corporate film set up it was important that I interacted with him in whatever way I could. Just to ensure he realized we existed… And since I really had nothing to say to him and making general conversation might make him think he might have a go at me, this was the best way to maintain contact. So say anything. Say ‘hi’, say ‘hi have you seen so and so?’, say ‘bye I’m leaving, do you know the way out’ say ‘stop looking at my tits you chooth’. Umm well I wish.

The whole experience of being on set today was a little unsettling. I remember being on a film set in my torn jeans and ratty t-shirt, drinking milky tea from thermocol cups and looking at people like me walk in completely not dressed for a film set in uncomfortable heels, lugging a huge laptop and pretending to be important. I remember how we used to huddle together and make fun of the project managers from corporate houses wondering what on earth they did all day, when we were doing the actual work. Today I got looked at like that and felt totally sorry for myself.

It’s been one of those moody weeks. I feel a restlessness I can’t describe. The kind where you call your friends for reassurance and simply No One is saying what you need to hear. The irritating part being you’re not too sure what that might be either. Sometimes they will call you and you’ll pick up thinking that maybe it’s a good opportunity to clear your head.. to ramble on and find yourself feeling progressively better. Instead you’re stuck listening to the neurosis in her head!

And then it’s December. I hate this month. It’s my birthday, Christmas and New Year in that order. Depression, Bipolar insanity and Suicide in that order.

In the night I realized that apparently being a part of the industry had made me sleazy as well. At dinner with mid level famous director, his older wife and 7 other people, I stole glances at him with a pre menstrual yearning that was disconcerting because erm, well I’m not pre menstrual at the moment and oh yes he was married. That I felt like he was reciprocating the feeling and that his wife was looking daggers at me is a figment of my obtuse imagination of course.

On the way back, as I explained to my risqué automan that though I may be spineless, I wasn’t necessarily an invertebrate, I decided to at least go home thinking positive. I’m still 24 (for another week man!!!), I have a good job. I have a nice semi-dysfunctional family. I have two sweet flat mates and when I’m with them I miss no one.( Infact FYI : when I’m with them we comprehensively hold the intellectual property rights of ALL of bollywood and some cross cultural cinema as well!!) Most importantly I live in the promise that this look will go. This look of trite vacuum on my face. Where you forget, where you regret, what was real, what was true, what was pure, what was you.

6 comments:

Pinochyo said...

Depression, Bipolar insanity and Suicide in that order? Rem Acu Tetigisti! A sounds depressingly(Pun unintended) familiar, B the next destination for my innate gemini-an traits and C,a distinct option :-( And suddenly december suddenly looks like the end of all things nice..

And hey, look at the bright side! You have one( 2 if your're lucky) years to hit the new ugly thing to hit mankind( womankind too, if you're the zealous feminist kinds:-)), the 1/4 Life Crisis. Live it up till then..woman:-)

Pinochyo said...

Did i forget to tell ya? Just to test thy theory, I called a few hundred friends today. After being offered everything from free invites to nice parties to being offered to be hooked up with "that hot chick I know", I'm still waiting to hear that something i need to hear. ( Only in my case, I think I know what I need to hear..Some sane advice)

I'm calling the next number.

discombobulated said...

"Where you forget,
where you regret,
what was real,
what was true,
what was pure,
what was you"

i think thats my new mantra to battle this city as well...

La vida Loca said...

Happy B'day gal!! 25 is fab!
Best is yet to be!
* soo cheesy I know. Still have a fantastic year ahead.

Coo said...

@ pinochyo - i had to google that rem acu thingy and whats the ugly thing that will hit me in two years?? full of mysteries this is.

@la vida loca - thank you! i have the feeling that 25 is going to be fab next december, just before (egad) 26!

Pinochyo said...

:-)So did u manage to find the Rem Acu thingie?Its apparently by Cicero and was something that Jeeves used a lot with poor Bertie Wooster.

The ugly thing IS the quarter-life crisis..woman!I was just telling ya that you're prob'ly 2 yrs away from it, so you should stop catching the symptoms at such a fast clip:-)

Tell us about the party:-)