Housebroken

Well, I did it. Today marks my first "official" "semi-official" "will be seen by strangers, maybe, at some point in the future" day of shooting for a "feature length film" (see, there's not an un-douchy way to say it, so I thought putting it in quotes might help. Turns out, it doesn't. I still sound like a douche). Anyway, the entire thing is very confusing, and you do something a million times, and before you know it it's over, and the whole touchy-feely "process" you are taught and get to experience in college is totally skipped over. I was just there, and now it's done. Apparently, I don't look like an albino radish on camera after all. Well, so far. It is funny how most expectations I had to be really freaked out doing it were dissapointed by the actuality that somehow I showed up, and just did it (well, I also played with my arm fat, took a nap, sang 80's songs, and smoked cigarettes, but what can you do). I guess my flipping out about it will probably come a few weeks from now when I realize what I've actually done and that it's done permanently. At least I can count on myself to set my anxieties aside to do the damn thing I suppose.

Anyway, the point is, Justin Theroux, wherever he is, should be proud. Years ago he told me just to relax. Well buddy, apparently I can. Officially housebroken.