Dear Twitter-verse, Shopping Malls, and “Foreign Sales”
You keep me humble and alert. You make me want to reach out and connect and at the same time you make want to hide in a corner with my pacifier.
My friends and family know, it’s difficult to get me on the phone. I was the last one out of my friends in high school to get a pager, the last one to get a cell phone. I’ve always hated talking on the phone, unless I’m driving and need something to distract me from my anxiety about traffic. I thought text messaging was invented just for me. I was so grateful when I realized that I could get back to my friend about dinner, without having a 20 min. conversation about where and when. Praise technology.
I’ve also always been kind of a private person. When I was young, there were certain things my friends knew but nobody knew who I was dating. I made sure to bring a fake “boyfriend” to the school dances and sneak out the house to meet my real boyfriend at the park or just down the street. Even as an actress as in the public eye, the only person I ever admitted to dating was Freddie Prinze Jr. but only because he talked about it first and I would’ve looked really lame if I had denied it.
I still don’t talk about who I’m dating– ever, but over the years I learned to slowly dip my toes, then torso, then chest in the waters of social media. Our relationship has grown, we have fun together, and I would say we have developed a certain amount of trust where I can speak my mind and be heard. It’s a dangerous love affair of sorts, but so far, our time has been fruitful. I try to focus on the positive and let the negative comments roll off my back like stinky water. At times though, it’s as if I’m addicted to it. I wake up in the morning and check my twitter and instagram, hoping to find something inspiring, controversial or just plain interesting. Some days are humdrum, others send me off in a pursuit of justice and integrity. Either way, I take it in stride and appreciate the relationship for what it is.
I’ve been afraid of big business ever since I stepped into my first Costco. The giant shelves and endless amount of free samples make me feel insignificant and yes… very vulnerable. Don’t misunderstand, I am not one of those folks who doesn’t like to leave the house. I love the great outdoors. However, the great indoors are another story. I went to the mall the other day with my mom and had a panic attack. All the options and colors and music piped in made me feel like I was being swallowed by all of the things I didn’t have in my closet. I’m gonna stick to buying clothes online.
That brings me to foreign sales. A couple of weeks ago, a film distributer sat across from me and my two fellow female filmmakers and said, “No offense, but women mean nothing overseas.” As I was about to ask, what about domestically.. he cut me off and said “In the states, they mean even less.” Less than nothing? Exactly how much is that? Of course I get the game of distribution and making movies and all that but somehow this statement still doesn’t compute. With 51 % of our population made up of women, how is it that WOMEN MEAN NOTHING? I personally know more women that go to the movies than men. And I think that when people say things like this, we somehow accept that it’s true. We keep operating on this notion without ever really investigating how this came to be or how to change it. It’s frustrating and makes me feel like I’m just one person, one woman sitting across from a man who is telling me that I need to have a man (actor) green-light my film even though it’s a movie about a 15 year old girl. Sheesh.
Was feeling vulnerable and wanted to share. Hopefully tomorrow I will wake up feeling super badass.