hello

Not much to write about today.  Feeling better.  Got a lovely email from Jenny. 

My writing was slow but steady.  It wasn’t one of those magical inspired days, but it wasn’t total crap either.  I slogged along and hope I got some good stuff.  But who knows?  Tomorrow when I read over it I might decide that I must abstain from even the comfort of a brandy cherry or two while writing.  I wonder how many one would have to eat in order to feel an effect?  Five?  Six?  The most I’ve eaten in a day is three and I felt perfectly fine. 

I just glanced up and saw the picture someone took of me and Emily on the set of The Two Jakes.  This is one of my favorite pictures of Emily and me.  It’s a large black and white photo that’s been blown up.  I’m wearing my Kitty Berman Courthouse outfit with one of those 40’s hats that is tipped so extremely that it looks like somebody slammed a large chocolate layer cake with no icing on it, to the side of my head and it stuck.  Little Emily’s wearing a cotton sun-dress and little white sandals.  She’s only four in the picture and is holding my hand, skipping/walking beside me, a smile of pure sunshine on her face.  Our bodies are leaned ever so slightly towards each other.  You can feel the bond.  My skirt is stretched taut, so I must have been hurrying to get to the set.  It was a lot of hurry up and wait with that scene, since most of the principal characters appeared in the courthouse scene.  My jacket is wrinkly around the arms and shoulders, so obviously the wardrobe department hadn’t gotten to me yet with the steamer.  Probably were waiting until the very last minute. 

I remember that day.  Such a crowded scene, hard to organize.  Complicated lighting.  It was difficult to get a bathroom break.  Finally, after what seemed like forever, the 1st A.D said I could go.  I remember sprinting to the bathroom.  I remember the sound of someone close on my heels.  I didn’t think much of it.  All I could focus on was getting to that bathroom, that was a good long gallop down a hall that seemed to go on forever.  I get in the bathroom stall.  Lock the door.  Coat the seat with toilet paper.  Manage, to get out of all that 40’s paraphernalia that Jack insisted that us women wear.  Try wiggling out of a skirt, a girdle, navigating 1940’s garters and hose, not to mention underwear.  Finally, collapsing on the seat, thankful that I was able to safely make it to a seating position without an accident.

When there is a “knock…knock…knock”  On the door of my bathroom stall.  “Miss Tilly…Miss Tilly…Knock…knock…knock.  Are you there?“ 

I freeze.  Everything freezes.  I have to go to the bathroom like there’s no tomorrow…but SOMEBODY is knocking on my door! 

I don’t say anything.  I am hoping this VERY RUDE person will go away. 

No such luck.  “KNOCK…KNOCK…KNOCK!“  Louder this time.  “Miss Tilly?  Is that you?  Could you please…“  There is a rattling of paper and THIS PERSON SLIDES A 8X10 photo of me under the stall along with a Sharpie.  “Miss Tilly?  That is you isn’t it?“

“NOT WHILE I’M GOING TO THE BATHROOM!“  I roar. 

There is a long silence.  A shuffling of feet.  “It will only take a…“

“OUT!“

There is another pause.  I feel the person outside of my bathroom stall deflate, but I really don’t care.  Enough is enough.  I am needed on set and I need to pee and there is no way I’m going to be able to do anything with this donkey in here.  I hear a sigh.  Then a hand appears and gathers up the the photo and Sharpie.  “Will…you sign it later.“

“Yes.“  I feel weary.  “Please go.“  Finally the person leaves.  I wait until I hear the door close behind them before I am able to unclench. 

Hmmm… Interesting.  I had no idea what I was going to blog today.  Certainly didn’t think I was going here.  Oh well.  I did.  Anyway, for those of you who think you’d like to be famous.  Think again.  Here’s a little taste of what you can expect and honestly…It’s not that fun. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, December 03, 2007 in Chewing the Fat