Night Shoots are Not My Favorite

I’m back home. We wrapped an hour ago. I felt so dirty because we were outside all night long. So, I hopped in the shower and now I’m wide awake. It was one crazy night. I did learn how to play rummy during the downtime. I got hit on by this Russian guy who decided to play out his tactics loud enough for me hear before approaching me. I saw it coming a mile away. I was a total bitch to him because I was cold, tired and hungry. He really didn’t deserve it that badly. I also saw an old flame from eons ago and I knew that he knew that I recognized him and he recognized me. After initial eye contact, he disappeared or I subconsciously avoided him. Then, later I then glimpsed this cutie pie of a boy that I remember from another shoot two years ago. Remember him, Angela? “The Glasshouse” at Malibu High. The guy always reading his book, wore flipflops with his jeans and had messy bedhead hair. Yeah, I saw him again. And he still wore flipflops with his jeans, stayed to himself, read his book and had messy bedhead hair. He tried to hide during the scene in the haystack most of the time and came back with hay in his hair and on the back of his sweater. We just smiled at each other a couple of times. No need for words.

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