My Boring-Ass Life (Revised Edition): The Uncomfortably Candid Diary of Kevin Smith (20 page)

BOOK: My Boring-Ass Life (Revised Edition): The Uncomfortably Candid Diary of Kevin Smith
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With tensions and emotions running high and the sudden flurry of activity, Jen and I get into a spat. It’s quickly put to bed, though, so we can concentrate on the tasks at hand. I call 2nd A.D. Karen to see if tomorrow’s photo shoot can be moved by an hour so I can drop Jen at the airport, and she accommodates my request. Then, Jen and I head over to a different hotel to see if their two-bedroom suite will work for us.

We get to the hotel, and get the friendly, “We know who you are”-type greeting from the valet guys. Led by one of the bellmen, we head upstairs to check out a pair of two-bedroom suites, one of which is the penthouse with a deck affair. The décor is a little mid-to-late eighties, but we’re kind of into it. We leave my number so the guy who books this kind of apartment can call me in the morning with some figures.

Following this, we head over to Gotham for some steak for me and veggies and wine for Jen. The waiter comes to our table and reflexively moves the glasses and silverware. I jokingly ask “What’d you do that for? We’d just gotten them where we wanted ’em.” This is met with a dead-eyed expression which screams “Fuck you, asshole...” and the waiter starts moving the cutlery back where it was. I tell the guy I’m kidding, but he apparently finds no humor in my borderline tepid attempt at jocularity. It’s pretty clear this dude is not as warm as the waitress we had the night before, so when he leaves, Jen and I spend five minutes trying to decide whether we should move to another table. Since I always pathologically tip a minimum of fifty percent, I’d rather give it to the chick from last night. But we opt to tough it out at Guy Smiley’s station and discuss, instead, our plans for the airport run.

We get back to the hotel and climb into our woobs and bed, where we work on our laptops while half-watching more
Files
. I iChat with Mos, who informs me that he got into a car accident on the freeway driving Cookie’s car. While it obviously wasn’t fatal, it was bad enough to set the airbag off which has left a burn mark on his arm. The car’s totaled, but Mos is generally okay, thank God.

Before we know it, Jen and I are falling asleep.

Wednesday 11 May 2005 @ 9:41 p.m.

Jen wakes me up around 7:15 a.m., and I hit the bathroom. She tells me through the door that we’ve gotta be in the car by eight, so I climb into the shower.

While I’m drying off, Jen’s putting together a bag to take home. She’s already packed the rest of her luggage, which is staying with me, in anticipation of the move. We figure, best case scenario, Jen’ll come back to Vancouver with Harley on Sunday — providing I’ve moved us into more permanent digs.

We get on the road and since it’s pretty much a straight shot over the Granville Bridge, we get to the airport with very little trouble. We kiss and my love leaves me, heading back home to care for our kid.

On the ride back, I return uber-lawyer John Sloss’s call from the previous day, regarding some loose ends on the
Clerks 2
deal that need to be tied up. With more than enough time to get to the studio, I head to the hotel to grab my backpack and chicken salad mix. I give my Mom a quick call to tell her about Ted, then make a glass of iced tea. In the quiet of the room, the place seems so empty without Jen. Suddenly, I start feeling randy. Something about an empty hotel room is a turn-on to me; I assume it’s because it harkens back to my youth, when an empty house meant I could bring girls over. So I bust out my nudie pics of the wife and tug one out before heading off to
Catch
-land.

On the way, I pop into a McDonald’s drive-thru to get an iced tea. There, I discover that Canadian McD’s are now offering a low-carb menu: three ‘dishes’ with less than six carbs apiece. I grab the chicken dish (a chicken breast with a slice of cheese and a piece of bacon) and scoff it down before I get to the studio.

I drop my shit off in my trailer and head right into hair and makeup. While Forest puts my hair in, it dawns on me that the makeup trailer is missing tunes (indeed, every makeup trailer I’ve ever been in on any show always has the music blasting). I offer to pick up one of those Bose iPod speakers, so that when I’m getting my hair and makeup done, I can roll with some Wu Tang, and when I’m gone, Forest can rock her iPod (once she replaces the broken one she’s currently sporting). Angela does my makeup, and then I head to my trailer to throw on my outfit.

I follow Driver Dave (who’s got Sam and Chris), and we head out past North Van, near Deep Cove. On the ride, I return uber-agent Phil Raskind’s call, and we talk about the post-
C2
flick a bit.

We get to the location: a stream, where Dennis (Sam Jaeger), Grady (Chris Henrickson), and Sam (me) are fishing. Like the previous day, this is all about taking pics for use in the movie, so we do some make-pretend fly-fishing and male bonding while the photographer snaps away. We change into different wardrobe and take some more pics — this time in the middle of the stream. I lose my balance and, like an asshole, nearly fall in completely. At this point, my waders are full of water.

Following the shoot, I head back to the honey wagon with two soakers, which Sandra and Elaine, the on-set wardrobe chicks, help me get out of. I grab some directions back into the city and I’m off, while Sam and Chris stick around for one more Sam-less shot.

Back in town, I stop by the Future Shop to grab that Bose speaker for the makeup trailer. I pop into my hotel room to grab my highlighted script pages, then I shoot over to the studio for rehearsal.

Since it’s still lunch, I head to my trailer to change back into my Kevin clothes, make my chicken salad and watch some
Krush Groove
. I get the call from the guy at the new hotel, who gives me the rundown on the prices of the two different rooms Jen and I peeped last night. Both, it turns out, are right in our target range, so I tell the room booker I’ll give him a shout after I talk it over with the wife.

A half hour later, 3rd A.D. Lori knocks on the door to tell me Forest is ready to remove my hairpiece. I grab the Bose speaker and my car-based iPod and head to the vanities trailer. Once inside, I unwrap and plug in the Bose, slide my iPod onto the connector pin, and bust with some Method Man while Forest literally pulls my (fake) hair out. Susanah drops in to tell me she’s heading to the stage for rehearsal, so I grab a warm towel to wipe my makeup off and follow suit.

I head to stage G, where Susanah, Garner and Sam are locked out of the rehearsal space. Garner and I talk about
Alias
for a few minutes until someone from the studio arrives to let us in. We’re joined by the script supervisor this time, and we go over some scenes that Sam and I had done the other day, and some we haven’t done at all yet.

Most of the scenes we’re rehearsing are Gray (Garner) and Dennis (Sam) scenes, so I sit beside Susanah, watching the performances. We’re joined by Tim and Juliette, but since Sam and Garner are in the middle of a pretty crucial scene, the three of us head outside, where we sit around chit-chatting until we’re called back in to rehearse as a group.

Rehearsal ends, and Susanah tells us we’re probably not gonna do the scheduled table reading of the script tomorrow, as she’s got a ton of prep to do for our Friday start.

As we head back to the base camp, Sam and I are trailing the varsity team of Garner, Tim and Juliette, when Juliette hangs back and starts walking and talking with us. I gush about her for a bit, then point out that the inflection of her normal speaking voice never really imparts whether or not she’s enthusiastic about a subject. She says she gets that a lot, then says g’bye and heads for her trailer. I offer Sam a ride back to the hotel, then jump into my trailer to grab my shit.

We get back to the hotel, and I invite Sam to some Gotham steaks. We head up to my room, drop off my backpack, and jump back in the car. A block from the hotel, I realize I’ve forgotten to bring some Splenda (my preferred iced tea sweetener), so Sam volunteers to run into Starbucks and grab some.

We get to Gotham and order up some filets, chit-chat about the show and acting in general, and people-watch the crank-addicts outside. Tonight, the waiter is top notch, as are the steaks.

Afterwards, we head over to the new place Sam has moved into (it turns out nobody digs on the residence side of the Sutton Place). He grabs his keys and fills out his paperwork downstairs, and then we head up to see his apartment (great view, though it’d be a little tight for me, Jen, Harley, Byron and Gail). I tell him to call me tomorrow if he gets bored, and I head downstairs.

On the way to the car, I notice there are messages from Jen on my phone. I give her a shout, and fill her in on my day. We talk about the suites at the new hotel and both agree that the penthouse with the deck is the way to go. I tell her the table-read has been called off and that I don’t start shooting ‘til Monday, so Jen suggests I move into the new hotel in the morning, then catch an afternoon flight home for the weekend. She’s chilling with Chay, so we jump off the phone, with me telling her to jump onto iChat later on.

I was given a new one-line schedule (the overview of the entire show that breaks down what’s being shot and on what day), so I spend most of the night fixing the dates in my iCal while the
X-Files
plays in the background. By the time I’m done switching stuff around, I’m feeling sleepy. I switch from iCal over to my nudie pics of Jen, tug one out, clean up, and fall asleep.

Thursday 12 May 2005 @ 9:42 p.m.

I get up around 7:30 a.m., take a leak and shit while I do a quick email check and respond to some Jen-mail she wrote me after I fell asleep last night.

Today marks the official one-year mark since I quit smoking. On the up side, my lungs must have cleared out (though not entirely, as Schwalbach still smokes like a chimney). On the down side, I’ve gained thirty pounds over the last year. I contemplate celebrating by smoking a cigarette when it hits me that I’ve fallen way behind on my online diary. So I start a Word document full of brief descriptions of everything that’s been going on over the course of the last week, just to keep the days fresh in my memory.

My iChat’s open, and I suddenly see Jen pop up. We chat back and forth about my potential homecoming and soon we’re moving into the dirty-chattin’. We’re gonna move it to phone sex, but Harley starts waking up, so Jen has to jump off. I crack open the Jen pics and start jerking off when the phone rings. I have a feeling it’s Jen, whose stolen away from the kid to talk dirty and rub one out with me, and my feeling turns out to be only partially right: it’s Jen... but she’s putting Harley on the phone to say good morning — instant momentary mood killer. I put my dick away and tell the kid I’m coming home and that I love her. Jen gets back on the phone and tells me to go back to what I was doing, but save a drop or two for her. Since I always do what the lady tells me, I go back to jerking off.

Afterwards, I clean up and call the new hotel, to see if I can move my stuff over today instead of the Saturday move I’d originally asked about. While I’m waiting for them to get back to me with a response, I call the
Catch
office and see about grabbing a flight home for the weekend. I get yes on both, so I pack the rest of my stuff in the room and ring for the bellman. The guy has to make two trips, but we get it all downstairs and into the Expedition. I check out of the Sutton and head to the new digs.

I check in and head upstairs, joined shortly thereafter by the bellmen with the two carts full of my crap. The place is nice: roomy and lots of great views. The tech dude comes up and hooks up an air-port to our Ethernet, so we’re all set, cyber-wise. I unpack a few things, throw my laundry in a bag to take back to LA with me, call Chay about picking me up at the airport (‘cause Jen’s taking Harley to a t-shirt party at school), and head out to the airport.

I park the car and head to my Air Canada gate. I’m flagged for inspection, so I go through two security pat-downs before winding up in front of a Customs agent who’s a fan and wants to visit the set (he’d previously visited Garner’s
Elektra
set). We exchange numbers, and I race to my gate to catch my flight.

I doze through most of the flight, listening to some Ol’ Dirty Bastard. I wake only to have some airplane chicken, and then fall back asleep, thinking about how much I want to fuck Schwalbach when I get home.

I get off the plane and call Chay to let her know I’ve arrived. Chay says Jen’s coming herself, so I call Jen and give her my whereabouts. She finds me, we kiss, and she launches into the harrowing tale of trying to get Harley’s ears pierced earlier that day.

On the ride home, I call Shannon McIntosh at Miramax Home Video to see how my footage for the Cannes reel went over and to talk about the possible
Sin City
signing at the Stash with Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller when the flick hits DVD in August. Shannon’s two weeks from delivering her second kid, so Jen tells me to find out where she’s registered before getting off the phone.

We stop at Baja Fresh for some grub for Harley. I hit the bathroom while Jen heads next door to Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. When I get out of the bathroom, I’m waiting at the pickup end of the counter, when someone says “Kevin?” I look at the woman talking to me, and she kinda looks familiar. I immediately start trying to place the face, and I’m in the middle of the thought “I think she was crew on one of your flicks...” when she does me the kindness of putting the mystery to rest by introducing herself as Carol Leifer. This is a woman I’ve watched on TV for years: from the mid eighties, when standup became all the rage on cable, to the present, whenever she pops up in a
Seinfeld
(indeed, the Elaine character is based on her). She tells me she’s been seeing me on the
Tonight Show
a lot, and we talk about
Roadside Attractions
. I ask her if she knows anybody over there, and she says “Well, Jay...” to which I’m like “Duh — yeah.” She tells me she’s heard from Garlin that our gig at the Improv Olympic last week went well, and I explain how the gig works and urge her to do it. Then, she’s off... and I’m left with this warm feeling. This was a woman whose work I’ve quietly dug for years, as I was (and remain) a huge standup whore — and she started a conversation with little ol’ nobody me. It was a really nice moment, actually.

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