The Meeting

So I had a meeting. Big deal...Really, big deal.

I am happy to report that the reason why I haven't been blogging too much is that my career as a screenwriter is going pretty well. Quite well, according to some of my friends. Still not up to my standards, but fucking great compared to what's normal. And since it's actually taking me beyond the gates of my house and into a place that takes an hour to get to by cab, it can at least be considered a major difference (and a slight annoyance)

So the meeting...it was good.

It wasn't spectacular. Spectacular would be New Line Cinema begging me to write for them for a shitload of money. But since I haven't finished a screenplay yet, spectacular would be a major local studio begging you to share your God given talent to help rescucitate the Sleeping Giant which I call "The Philippine Film Industry".

Fun thing about the The Philippine Film Industry. Everyone who works in it is perenially late.

I know, I know the joke. That Filipinos are always late.

But seriously. Anyone who is someone in this darn industry is late. Whether it's ten minutes or an hour, if they're not late for something, then they're not that fucking important. Something needs to be off, nothing is ever as you see it on the schedule.

So that's a problem.

I'm always late. And unlike early birds, who's only choice is to get there on time, we late people come with a little variety (and a hell lot of excuses).

Considering that as a coping adult, I am still working on getting to places on time (never mind early), this new factoid seriously throws my agenda off. Because while Film People are always late, a lot of kids from my generation are now getting into the habit of being early.

Or maybe that's always been the case and I was always just really late, but anyway...

The Meeting, which has been cancelled once and rescheduled the day after, was running late. Really late, in fact. What should have started as seven started at 8:15. And since I wanted to rub in the fact that they cancelled on me the night before when I was halfway to the designated meeting place (thus spending Php 250.00+tip) I got there really early. Never mind that I was late the night before, I was pissed.

And ended up in the wrong Starbucks. Imagine that. But considering that Eastwood was built around yuppies seeking to relieve themselves of their incomes through clothes and expensive coffees, maybe I shouldn't be surprised that there was more than one Starbucks within a fucking quarter mile in the area.

So I get there--the wrong place--early. Which was fine, because they were running late.

After making a call to JP, who works in the area and thus picked me up and delivered me to the right Starbucks, I became officially late. Not that it mattered. They were later.

Which means that in this situation, I was the Floundering Fish.

After having bumped into two college friends and having coffee with them--with JP coming in to check on me from time to time, to make sure I wasn't ODing in Mocha Fraps--they finally came in. After around...gee, an hour in a half.

Which means the meeting ended up sometime during midnight. And though I do sleep at the wonderful hour of 2am, I do prefer to be within striking distance of my bed come the primetime hours. Besides, my mouth starts craving for the taste of my Melatonin sleeping aid at around eleven. Nothing like a burst of cherry to send you off to lalaland.

But I sucked it up anyway, and had one of the first totally business-like meetings ever. None of the "we're friends and let's have a business meeting over pizza, while we gossip and talk business on the side"...

So it ended well...and just like a date, a good meeting almost always ends up with another meeting.

And just like a girlie girl who needs a whuppin in a head, I was fucking early for that too.

Note to self: meeting for tonight set at seven. Be there at eight.