To Infinity and Beyond?

Today I had my meeting with Sam Burton, New Talent Executive for Screen East.  We had a really good chat about Screen East's DigiBytes (a.k.a. Digital Shorts) and Digital Nation (previously Digital Shorts Plus) Schemes, had a chance to run through the application and selection process, as well as a general chat about my aims going forward - it was quite a lot to pack into a half hour meeting but well worth it.  Screen East have now uploaded all the info you require to submit your application - so if you fall under the Screen East area, go here to take a look.

However, behind the cool, creative exterior I presented today (!) lay a mere catalogue of disasters which, at one point, almost convinced me fate was steering me away from filmmaking forever - well, the meeting at Screen East anyway.

Cock-up #1: 

I decided to go to Norwich (Screen East Office location) by train - that way I could get some work done on the way.  I decided this last week and bagged myself a fantastic bargain in the form of an advance ticket. Brilliant.  The whole travel thing had been bugging me though - so I checked my itinerary/tickets on Sunday night only to discover the very helpful lady at my station had given me tickets to IPSWICH. 

Cock-Up #2:

I returned to my station on Monday morning (08:55 to be precise) and was assisted by a very helpful gentleman who informed my that although his colleague had quite possibly given me the incorrect ticket, as it was an advance ticket I was not able to change it - unless I extended it to go to Norwich for an additional charge of £10 per ticket (I had two singles). However, taking that particular train would have meant I was 1.5 hours late for my meeting - not a great start.  So, after no deliberation, I purchased ANOTHER ticket (again 2 singles which were cheaper than a return - wtf?).  When I asked what I should do with the Ipswich ticket the very helpful gentleman suggested I sell it onto someone at Liverpool Street Station.

Cock-Up #3:

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to bootleg my spare tickets this morning as my underground line virtually ground to a halt at every station between Baker Street and Liverpool Street due to bearing the brunt of the Circle line "not working effectively".  When I fought my way off the tube, towards the mainline station, cursing my choice of footwear, I had exactly 3 minutes to get up to the concourse, find the right platform and get on the train to Norwich. In my haste, I nearly broke my arm whilst tripping on the stairs and grabbing the handrail very hard. Didn't drop my iPhone though. Phew.

Cock-Up #4:

The train was late coming into Liverpool Street.  Consoled myself by rubbing my arm better like a five year old. 

Cock-Up #5:

Off we trundled towards Norwich.  Speedily we ran until Chelmsford, where we sat for 20 minutes due to "platform congestion" - don't they have industrial vats of Vicks or Olbas Oil to solve that? At least arm is feeling a bit better now.

Cock-Up #6:

ETA announced as 11:48.  Meeting starts at 12:00 in the city centre - a city I don't know. 

Cock-Up #7:

Arrived at 11:53. Nearly broke my ankle running for a taxi. Cursed my choice of footwear, once again. Rubbed my ankle whilst tearing paperwork out of my file to phone ahead, then realised I hadn't told the driver where I wanted to go. (You mean there are no psychic cabbies in Norfolk?).

Cock-Up #8:

Every single traffic light turned red. Ankle still hurts a lot.

But I did get to the meeting and everything was just fine - and other than someone sitting next to me on the tube eating an orange and spitting out all the the pips, the journey home was slightly less eventful. 

On arriving home I saw the news and a report about the poor Frank McGarahan who had been murdered in Norwich during the early hours of Sunday morning - he ending up dying where I had been dithering over whether to buy lunch from Tesco or just grab a cab from the rank, and head back to the station.

Today's cock-ups were swiftly smacked into perspective.