i’ve been in more scenes where it says, “he sobs” … and sobs is a scary word, right? weeps is okay. he gets emotional, fine. sobs, and you go, oh shit, man. i’ve gotta sob? how am i going to sob? who sobs? you see that word in a script, and when you go to bed, you’re just thinking, why do i have to sob? do i have to sob this week? no, i don’t sob until a week from monday. then somebody tells you have to shoot it earlier. “no we don’t.” “yeah we do.” “no. we don’t shoot that scene until next monday because i’m emotionally inching my way up on the sobbing and i’m telling you it’s next fucking monday!” i don’t even know what the question was.
Tag: nymag
oui.
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after finishing this interview with menswear designer alexandre mattiussi, my first unfiltered thought was, “i will marry this man.” my second unfiltered thought was, “whaaaaaaaat? where did that come from?” i mean, really. when did i become someone to internalize the marriage plot monologue single ladies knee jerk into after finding someone attractive and interesting and making thoughtful, beautiful things for a living? not cool, amy. not cool. something like “i will email this man” or “i will google this man” or “i will spend the better part of an hour blogging about this man” seems to ride a little less desperate, a little more doable. might i also remind everyone that alexandre is almost definitely unmarry-able. a 32-year-old parisian who refers to his father as “papa” and claims to have no ego? a modern miracle if he’s single and attracted to girls americans.
