F*** Plan B.

Let me start by saying I love my job at M:R teaching kids. Love it, love it, love it. I look forward to teaching every day that I do. I mean, I get to dress casual, I get to play with the kids, I get to skip at work. I have never skipped at work.

But today, I had a big realization. I love directing more.

With the 48 Hour Film Project looming next week, I’m looking at everything for inspiration to write the best script, the one that will land me in the top 10 so I can compete in San Francisco in September (if you don’t know the details, check out 48 hour film website). So I went to mediocre sketch comedy last night with Anna B., suffered through some drunken ranting and then one of the guys said something that triggered an idea, which I passed along today to my two cohorts for this year’s film. Monica responded about how much she liked the idea, etc. Dave then started on this very funny tangent that started off as nothing more than innocuous kidding between friends but then the idea grew and grew, still silly and funny, but I can see the possibilities for it. It’s all I’ve thought about since then. We went back and forth numerous times, joking about how to approach this idea (Monica, I’ll fill you in when I see you Saturday). After about an hour of intermittent emails about ideas, I had to pack up and get out to Northridge to teach. I struggled because we were on this very funny tangent and things were moving as quickly as email would let them move (he was at work, I was getting ready for work). I showered and headed off to work.

On the way, all I could think of was this idea and how to make it work. That’s when it hit me. I didn’t want to go and teach. I wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon emailing ideas back and forth, fleshing out this idea as much as we could without breaking the rules, and see what else could come from this flow going on. I wanted to call Dave and say, hey, let’s get together after you’re off work and see what else we can come up with. Let’s call Monica and start brainstorming. Let’s keep going.

I have been enjoying this “pay the rent” job so much that this thought has been creeping in more and more – this will be a great Plan B if the directing thing doesn’t work out. I’ll go through the training to be a program director at my own studio – JUST IN CASE. I’ll see how far I get before my directing career takes off JUST IN CASE. I’ll do a great job and really soak everything up JUST IN CASE. Because I may not have a directing career. I might be doing the same thing I am now in five years so this is the perfect Plan B job JUST IN CASE.

Well, fuck just in case and Plan B. I want Plan A. In a year, I want to be making pay-the-rent money with my Plan A. I want to have “Cinderella” coming out in release. I want to have word of mouth on “The Wraith” tearing up the wires. I want to have my next film planned and financed, including my fee for it. I want Plan B. I don’t want JUST IN CASE.

I am a director. That’s what I am. I write only so I can direct. I work only so that I can direct. It is who I am. Part of me is an artist and I certainly am not about to quit the “pay the rent” job. But I cannot allow myself to think “maybe the directing thing won’t work out.” It has to. Because there is nothing else. If this doesn’t succeed, I have nothing else that will fill me as much as this will.

So in that vein, this is what I want:

1. Make my living directing. Anything. Everything. Film. TV. Theatre. Commercials. Will direct for food.

2. Find someone to be with who appreciates, respects and understands that.

3. My Plan B to be my own art – my jewelry and my accessory line. Then I’ll sell it for more money than I could ever imagine. To finance my directing habit.

4. My own place within the next year. Of course, it would have to be in the same building as my parents so I could still be a few feet away but could have my own place. Financed by – say it with me – my directing career.

5. The condo in my vision – on the beach, very zen, very elegant, very peaceful, filled with music and song and love and art of every sort. With that voice I can hear singing in the next room, making me smile while I sit in my favorite chair, looking out the window at the foggy ocean, inhaling that clean beautiful scent, while he’s doing whatever he is doing, singing and laughing and calling to me to come and see what he’s doing.

6. A classic Mustang. Fully restored.

7. The life I see but can’t reach just yet.

That’s all.