Showing posts with label The Devil Wears Prada. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Devil Wears Prada. Show all posts

Friday, June 18, 2010

New Daddy Has Gone Cray Cray

Ok, so you guys know how much I love my new daddy, right?
Well, the bloom is starting to fade from the rose, as they say.
(does anyone actually say that besides my mom?)

He is sort of fabulous, but also enfuriating—sometimes I feel like I’m in a deleted scene from The Devil Wears Prada. Take, for instance, this morning’s conversation.

New Daddy: Okay, I’m thinking out loud here. We need to get a super issue of Watercolor mag out as soon as possible.

Me: How many additional pages of content would that require?

ND: I don’t know, 40?

Me: That’s roughly 4 extra articles, in addition to the 9-10 that appear in each issue. And you want that by when?

ND: For the next issue.

Me: That’s not possible.

ND: How long is that acrylic article? 250 words? what were you thinking?
[he has now moved on to another topic entirely, with no regard for what I said was not possible.]

Me: The article hasn’t been written or sent to me yet. You told you wanted a spread, so no more than 400 words—depends on how many images we get.

ND: Okay, okay [he pauses]. I’ve got the advertisers up my ass, I’ve inherited this clusterfuck, I don’t know.
[note: he says the above with complete nonchalance.]

[I don’t know what to say.]

ND: Okay, is there any way we can get this in to the next issue of the monthly?

Me: It ships on Thursday, and we don’t have any of the content. If the artist gets it to me on Monday, that still requires a scramble.

ND sighs and rubs his temple. I am fearful he’ll throw his hot coffee in my face.

ND: I need to please these advertisers. [pause] Okay, I’ll make a call to advertising, see what I can do. I’ll try to work some queer magic.


Naturally, his laugh line is my cue to exit, as he turns his seat back to his desk as he shoos me away.

I don’t know how to handle him. He’s very stream-of-consciousness, and he goes from pissed and hilarious at the drop of a dime. An older gay is the kind of breed that can turn on its hag, and I’m fearful of him. I need his approval as both my massa and an older gay, but I also need him to stop trippin’ and let me get my basic shit done. Toeing the line with this one will require a bit of finesse.

Thank god it’s Friday. I need to take a nap.

[aaahhh, New Daddy came over just as I was googling images of 'Angry Ian McKellen'--you know, basically Magneto in X-Men]

Friday, July 13, 2007

UnderPaid Negroes

As you all know, I am a blacktress. I use this term because unlike your every day actress, who is seized with low self-esteem, competition from other actresses, and the need to be perfect, I am also darker than a paper bag and 3/5 of a woman. This often means that when I audition for parts I play some marginal character-- perhaps a stepparent, an old wizened woman, or wicked witch (or otherwise "dark" character).

I know there are a dearth of roles available for blacktors and blacktresses. As well as Asian-tresses? And Latinators? No, that won't work-- it sounds like some kind of dinosaur.

Anyway, I'm done bitching. I am going to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. As you also know, I am a woman of color and a writer. And I am currently working on a television series that will not only give black actors much-needed roles, but allow them to appear on screen with White actors.

My show is a prime-time drama that will be set in antebellum South. Think "Grey's Anatomy" + "Roots." It will star Isaiah Washington as a gay slave (the man needs to do some damage control).

Okay, okay. Cool your jets. I'm hoping to pitch this to UPN-- a.k.a "Under-Paid Negroes,"* the network that brought us such great black sitcoms as "Half and Half," and "Homeboys in Outerspace."

I will give you a brief excerpt from the shooting script. Picture this:


EXT. Plantation Field. Day.
RUFUS, A young black teen picks cotton in the hot southern sun. He furtively looks around. He sees the MASTER, an attractive young White man (ideally played by Shia Lebouf) looking off in the opposite direction. He turns to his sister DELILAH, a younger black girl, who is picking nearby.

RUFUS
Delilah, keep a look out. Watch Massa.

DELILAH
Rufus, don't you get us in trouble. Celie's still sore from the last whoopin'!

RUFUS
I just need to take a peek.

Delilah rolls her eyes, but says nothing. She looks over at the MASTER. Rufus reaches into his pocket and pulls out a copy of The Devil Wears Prada. HE READS A PAGE!!!!

Meanwhile, MASTER/Shia Lebouf catches Delilah's eye. She turns away, then turns quickly back. He gives a small smile. Her cousin, CELIE, who is on the other side of her, chuckles as he saunters towards them.

CELIE
Hmmmm---mmmh. Massa McDreamy comin' over here!

DELILAH
Shut up, Celie!
(to Rufus)
Put that away boy, before you get yo' butt beat!

MASTER McDREAMY/SHIA LEBOUF reaches Delilah. He approaches her closely. Sketchily. She shrinks in. A slight girl (obviously underfed cause she's a SLAVE), she is pubescent and has a crush. This is not the first time he has approached her.

MASTER/SHIA LEBOUF
Sure is hot out here. Ain't it, Delilah?

DELILAH
Sho' is.
(pause. unsure. she takes a breath)
You... um. You got some water?

MASTER
(loudly, putting on a show)
How dare you ask me for water!
(he moves to strike her and she flinches. He stops himself and whispers in her ear)
Sorry, I left my nalgene in the wagon. I'll come by your quarters after supper.
(His eye catches Rufus, who is furtively reading his book)
What you got there, Rufus?

Rufus stuffs the book into his pocket.
RUFUS
Oh, nothing, Massa.


So that's just an excerpt people. What will happen next? Will Rufus's attempt at literacy be discovered? How long can Delilah and McDreamy's affair last? I think you know the world needs to see the next installment of "I Don't Cotton To It." This fall. On Under-Paid Negroes.

The tagline? SLAVES: THE MOST UNDERPAID OF ALL.


(Shia is clearly looking over his property, and Isaiah is saying, "Shh. Don't use the 'F' word.")


* (UPN recently changed its name to "My9," which is clearly indicative of the desperate need of negroes to have OWNERSHIP after being OWNED!!!!)