My Week With Weinstein

Yesterday was the kind of day that started out with a Hollywood screenplay writer legitimately asking me if I was an actress (and me blushing immediately and for the following thirty minutes) and ended with my realizing  that I had accidentally written on my face with pen at some point during the day.

When you work in a film production office and someone says they need to book the "conference room" because they are having a "production meeting," it really means they need to book the theater room to watch a movie. I may just be a temp, but I'm on to them.

Optimistic writers keep calling and begging me to let them talk to Bob or Harvey Weinstein. A little of bit of my writing spirit dies every time I have to turn them away. I hope this doesn't negatively affect my writerly karma! Don't kill the messenger!

The Office Services guy (who is my office angel in the body of ginormous black man with tattoos and gray sweatpants) totally hooked me up with 8 free movies yesterday! Some I might not actually ever watch (Scream 4, the first season of Mob Wives..) but others I have been dying to see (The Iron Lady, My Week with Marilyn...).Regardless, Heck! I'm going to keep these DVD's forever as an artifact of my week at Weinstein.

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