So inner city filmmaker was over. On the night of graduation, I felt strong and inspired. Nothing was going to stop me but what was next?
I went back to the toy store and back to school. I was starting my second year of college and my major was all over the place. I needed to make a decision. I made appointments to talk to advisors in multiple departments to figure it out including theater and cinema.
I couldn’t believe I was back to normal life. ICF kept in touch though. They wanted us to keep them updated with life. In October, they invited us to the 24-hour horror festival which I couldn’t do. They invited me to some networking events and a four-day convention about marketing in film.
I went to a few of these events but it was hard once normal life started up again.
I attended a networking event where a bunch of people were having drinks and chatting it up. I was out of place. I had water and tried to make conversation. A few of my classmates were there so that helped. I hated the concept of smooshing someone just for a job. It felt wrong and my values rejected this notion.
The convention was interesting. Karla and I both attended, and two of our other classmates. I asked for days off and took the long street drive to the Los Angeles convention center with Karla. It was pretty useless. I had no idea what to do the whole time there. We went to one panel, and I don’t know what happened the other day. The most exciting part of those four days was the networking party at the Griffith observatory. Karla and I hopped onto the bus that the event center provided for the guest to get there. I felt apprehensive the whole time because my parents wanted me to be home at a certain time. The event started later into the evening and I didn’t want to miss it or let Karla down. She didn’t wanna go by herself. So we got to the observatory. I’m sure I had been there before then but I can’t remember. To me, it felt like the first time. We walked with the crowds toward the outdoor area, and I looked out at the views. It was beautiful. Servers were walking around with trays of fancy foods with names I couldn’t pronounce. We stayed for an hour and tried to converse and again, smoosh these executives. Make connections and try to get these people to like me. An hour later, we took the bus back to the convention center. It was already getting dark. We got into my car and I knew I had to get on the free at to get home by curfew. My friend who had brought his own car said just follow me onto the freeway. I didn’t know how to get home on the freeway and my GPA wasn’t working because my phone sucked. So I said my prayers and followed him onto the freeway. It was fast and I was scared. It wasn’t empty like when my brother forced me to get onto the freeway. Instead, cars were flying past me. I lost my friend at some point and I have no idea how but I made it back somehow to the valley. My nerves were all over the place.
Time was passing by and I hadn’t produced another film. I was anxious to get back out there and direct. I felt paralyzed every time I tried to write. With each day that passed, the Summer at ICF seemed less real.