This is a street in Chelsea near where we were shooting one day this week.
Isn’t it gorgeous?
End of the week. Exhausted. Yesterday we worked from noon until midnight. We were in a city north of Manhattan. A van drove us back to the Upper West Side, where, at about 12:45 am, I caught a train heading south. Then I had to transfer to another train which took forever to arrive. At this point it was 1 am and trains don’t run as often at that hour. The line that I transferred to was one of the few ways for me to get home at that hour. Very old train, very noisy, and then, to my horror, it went right past my station. An elderly man tried to convince me I hadn’t missed my stop – bless him, he was trying to comfort me – but I knew I had. I finally got out and talked to a woman working in the booth, who had no idea why it hadn’t stopped. I went up the stairs to the street, called an Uber, which arrived very quickly, thank God, and arrived home at 2 am. I left the house at 9 am that morning. This might be a bit extreme, but these are the kind of hours I am putting in on a daily basis.
I went to bed at 3 am and woke up at 8:30, so it wasn’t the kind of 8 hour sleep I craved, but maybe that will come tonight. Monday? I have to be on the set at 6:30 am.
Love/hate this experience. I love watching the process of making a movie. It is fascinating. The people are lovely. There is a lot of time spent waiting. I am in awe of the talent of the crew members who are experts at their jobs. Everyone is kind and patient. The actors are bringing these characters to life and it’s amazing to watch the process, especially when everything is shot out of sequence.
I sit with the producers watching the screens in what is called Video Village. They’re all youngish and funny and smart and I like them very much. One of them is Jim’s husband and I am so grateful for this opportunity to get to know him.
The ceiling in one of the Court buildings downtown, where we filmed on another day this past week.
I won’t be seeing Don this weekend. He came last Sunday and we had a great day together but when it was time to go to bed (I had to get up at 4:15 am on Monday) we realized this bed wasn’t nearly big enough for the both of us. We were jammed together and any move on Don’s part made him nervous about disturbing me and he ended up sleeping on the sofa, which was not at all comfortable. Between my very early wakeup call and Don being 6 feet 4 inches tall, we realized it wasn’t going to work. As I was leaving, we said goodbye and, instead of staying through Tuesday, he went home on Monday morning.
I was so sad the rest of the day. So was he.
We have some shoots coming up that take place in a county north of Manhattan and south of our cottage. I’m seriously considering going home for that part of the shoot and commuting back and forth from the cottage to the set. I wouldn’t have to deal with getting up incredibly early here at the apartment in order to take the subway to a van pick-up point, and then travel with a bunch of other people to the location. Jim’s husband first suggested the idea to me. I’d still have to get up very, very early, but I’d come home to Don and I’d get a weekend or two with him, one of which is my birthday weekend.
The trouble is, when I’m working away from home and I’m in and settled, I don’t like to relocate and then relocate again. But…it seems to be the most practical thing to do.
I’m rambling here, so forgive me, but I’m so very tired. Anyway, several of you mentioned that I would get to see Don this weekend and, sadly, that’s not going to happen.
There’s so much more to tell you, but that will have to do for now. In the meantime, I’ve discovered the joy of dropping off my laundry and picking it up later in the day, nicely folded and in a neat bundle. This is what Don did when he was in Margaritaville and, since the last thing I want to do is spend time sitting in a laundromat when free time is at a premium, that’s what I’m going to do today or tomorrow.
Stay safe.
Happy Saturday.
So many adventures you are up to! Now I see why making movies is so expensive. It takes special people to fill such challenging roles and jobs. I do admire you all.
Thank you, Bobbie Jean.
Stay safe.
The street in Chelsea is lovely, and the court house ceiling is stunning!
You are having quite an exciting experience, but I do not envy the working hours or worse heading to the apartment where you are staying in the early hours of the morning. That would frankly terrify me.
Stay safe and enjoy what might be a once in a lifetime adventure. :-)
I was a bit nervous, but I just called Uber and the guy was there within about 2 minutes.
Stay safe, Janice.
Hi Claudia,
I wanted to thank you so much for taking the time to share these beautiful photos. I too hope you get some much needed rest.
Thank you, Alice
You’re most welcome, Alice!
Stay safe.
sounds like a very hard schedule (even if a person has plenty of sleep). glad there is some time waiting on set so you can hopefully rest a bit during the day, but i hope you get to sleeping better/more … so important!
being able to commute between your home and the set, and especially spend more time with don sounds good. hope that will help you.
be safe in your comings and goings.
the street and ceiling are beautiful! thanks for taking time to post and reply!
well … my own schedule just changed. my new boss eliminated my position yesterday. said she’s able to do my job as well as her own. she is wrong and in for an awakening. while i am needing to find a new job and now worry more about money, i feel a whole lot better for being away from someone who, among other things, called me a liar and spiteful (nice, huh?). onward to better things ahead!
hope you, don and everyone else here are having a good weekend!
kathy
gee, kathy, I’m so sorry you’re going thru this; take care and have faith that you’re coming ’round to a better job ahead, with people who are good and kind as you are
thanks, vicki … much appreciated.
i am so sorry you had a fire and your cat is ill. :( hope the clean-up is done, the smoke smell is gone and won’t trouble you, that your cat gets better and you have more time together this side of heaven, too. i will keep praying for you all and everyone else here (animals included)!
here’s to better days ahead for everyone. they are coming!
hope you have a good night tonight and an easy day tomorrow.
kathy
sorry. dog … i meant your dog, vicki (lately been thinking extra about the beloved animals in my life and heart, which includes cats).
xo
kathy
thanx, kathy; I love animals too and still have one elderly cat left besides the dear-darling dog who’s the little love of our life
I’m so sorry, Kathy. What a terrible way to end your time there. But you’ve been officially freed and that will save you so much stress.
All is well.
xo
Claudia
thanks very much, claudia.
will spare you the details of her behavior and just say it’s been horrible and extremely stressful … to the point that (a couple weeks ago) i called a lawyer, was not sleeping well and have lost fifteen pounds … but now i am relieved of that burden, slept very well last night and i am so grateful.
i know a better job and better days are ahead.
and i will be glad to keep off those fifteen pounds, too. :)
thanks for your support.
hope you sleep well and can enjoy a day off tomorrow by doing whatever you want. reading and napping sound good.
xo
kathy
She sounds like a terribly unhappy person, Kathy.
Take care.
The schedule sounds grueling, Claudia, and yet it’s so interesting to learn about movies from an insiders point of view. You’re so good to share with us, when I’m sure the last thing you want to do is post when you could be sleeping! Hang in there. Staying at the cottage sounds like a great idea.
Thank you, Karen.
Stay safe!
Gorgeous photos! Thanks for taking time to share your exciting,but hectic schedule. I have never realized what really goes in to making a film.You are educating us.xo
Thanks, Annette.
Stay safe.
What a schedule! And, those late nights in the city…I admire your ability to cope.
I hope you do decide to commute from home for a bit. You could at the very least catch an extra couple of hours of sleep. And it would do you and Don a world of good. Fingers crossed.
That ceiling is gorgeous. How fortunate you are to be able to experience all this….the good and the not so convenient. Take care….and hope you get some sleep! ;)
Thanks so much, Donna.
Stay safe.
Gorgeous pictures! Thanks for sharing your schedule. Sounds exciting, but you and Don need to be together as much as you can. Stay safe. Enjoy this adventure!
Thank you, Lottie.
Stay safe.
Beautiful architecture. I enjoyed seeing the picture of the Chelsea Hotel on IG. Now I have that song by Leonard Cohen stuck in my head!
The commuting sounds scary so late at night. I know you are smart and careful…but still, worrisome. Get some rest this weekend.
Be safe
It’s not the first time I’ve navigated late at night in a city. I lived in downtown Philadelphia, Boston, San Diego and I’ve spent a good deal of time in NYC.
Stay safe, Marilyn.
Thanks so much, Claudia, for sharing! Soooo very interesting to hear about the inner-workings of movie making. How long is this process going to be – for your part? And, oh my goodness, I would have crumbled into a pile of nervousness/FEAR having to be on the trains so late!
I’ll be there until we wrap the film, which will be on December 10th.
Stay safe, Debbie.
I just don’t know how you’re doing this; I could NEVER.
Thanks for the photos; stunning.
I feel like you need a hug. XXOO
I used to work in a leg of the biz, so I’ve known people who’ve worked on films, and the lament is always about the long days and waiting, waiting, waiting. My husband who WAS in the biz always hated being on a film for these very reasons; he preferred other kinds of productions.
You’ll be on IMDB now just like Don.
Take care, Claudia; I guess you two could have switched places with you on the sofa and Don in the bed, but you need your sleep for this grueling schedule or else you’ll just get sick, and who wants to sleep on an uncomfortable couch, like nobody of course. Darn. I was so hoping you and Don could have some quality time together. But it’ll come.
So, yes, it’s a dynamite experience, and you’ll get thru it, but then you don’t have to do it ever again and, in the meantime, you made some good money, and you have some glorious time ahead of you to tuck in to the cottage with your beloved.
I’ll just be glad when things get back to ‘normal’ for you two.
As for me, we had a serious kitchen fire and almost burned our house down on Weds nite. Won’t even talk about the damage and our smoke-filled/odorous/toxic house. TERRIFIC for my asthma. Same day we found out our elderly dog likely has cancer. It’s been a heckuva week.
Oh no! That must have been frightening, Vicki! I’m so, so sorry! Thank God the house is still standing and you’re all safe.
I’m so very sorry about your dog. I’ve been there, as you know. It’s heartbreaking, but you’ll be there for your baby, I know that. Bless all of you.
Stay safe. And I mean that.
Thank you, Claudia. I appreciate that you’re totally tired/depleted, but you still find time, or make time, to not only post but answer us readers, too.
Curiously, I have yet to shed a tear about this kitchen fire, but I’ve since had two nightmares when I’ve tried to sleep. I think the tears are still coming, but this is what I do; I delay, and then it hits me out of nowhere later; I do the same with grief.
This wasn’t some ‘minor’ grease fire on the stovetop. I won’t go into TOO many details, because I could fill ten pages, but my husband turned on one of the burners (wrong one; he’s absentminded) and a 2-ft tall ‘teardrop’ humidifier was sitting on that burner. (One could ask why; it’s just too complicated to explain.) Flames four feet in the air with the ignited humidifier; fire extinguisher failed; burning debris burned holes in our vinyl floor covering as my husband scooped up piles of on-fire stuff to throw on the cement driveway (it’s a miracle he didn’t get burned); we were a 2-human chain with me swinging the door open wide for each load of burning stuff, indoors to outdoors. It of course crossed my mind to call 911 but we just kept working, almost methodically; it was so weird; we weren’t hysterical. But I wouldn’t recommend what we did to anybody!
The stove/range is trashed; the worst was that we breathed in carcinogens from burning/melting hard plastic of the large humidifier (which can be fatal). Every square inch of our house smells like burning plastic. We’ll be ventilating, nearly 24/7, for weeks.
It all happened so fast, rapidly-accelerating fire before you even have a chance to process it. It’s not lost on us that we could’ve lost our lives; we could’ve lost our home. I guess we did every wrong thing.
My husband cleaned for a solid 48 hrs with hardly any sleep, and he’s only just begun; it’s washing down walls, ceilings, floors; taking down drapes and curtains, we may have to pull up remaining carpet in the house, he had to wash seven jackets/coats in the entry closet/foyer off the kitchen; we have days ahead of us with furniture cleaning, etc. Because we’re in home improvement mode, we don’t have things like closet doors on closets, so all the hanging garments in other rooms were also smoked. Think of it: Mattresses, linens, towels; blankets. It’s overwhelming. And we have so much clutter due to the endless ‘remodeling’ that we can’t get to every place to clean (yet) and all those packed boxes/cardboard retain the smoke odor, too.
We have three air cleaners going at full blast nonstop; we’ve been cleaning all the wall vents, furnace filter, etc. I think it would be easier to just move. Like, just walk away, forever.
I finally smothered the remaining fire with an oversized/jumbo sack of baking soda which blessedly was sitting near the kitchen sink because we use it for homemade household cleaner. I went room to room to open windows although I could barely see thru the smoke, and of course every smoke detector was ringing loudly (you’d think the neighbors would’ve called the fire department), but then I had to get the heck out of Dodge and run across the street, ultimately sitting in the cold car for four hours. I’ve already been in respiratory ‘distress’ since October with my asthma. We finally went to bed at 3am, seven hours after the fire was out, with every window and door open, although our neighborhood isn’t really safe for such a thing. Fortunately for my dog, although she breathed in the smoke too, she went suddenly/unexplainedly deaf about two weeks ago, so the loud noise of the smoke detectors didn’t ‘get’ to her the way they have in the past. Otherwise, she would have been frantic.
Anyway, we’re just going to have to make the best of things and I’m at the doctor Monday so she can check my lungs since my asthma has been so bad since October when I couldn’t help but also breathe in the smoke from the Alisal Fire north of Santa Barbara (it wafts its way into the house; it can’t be helped when it’s so prevalent in the environment). I’m four months out from healing my airways at this point. I felt like both my husband and I should’ve gone to the ER that night to make sure we were okay; he wouldn’t leave, too afraid of anything that could re-ignite. He breathed it all in a lot worse than I did; I was scared-crazy for him, but he’s stubborn, felt terrible that this was his fault/mistake; he’s about to drop from physical and mental fatigue of the past three days.
(Again, we know we made some wrong decisions in all the confusion/chaos of the moments. But we immediately bought three brand-new fire extinguishers the next day and I ordered a case of 12 one-pound boxes of baking soda. [Mom always taught me in the kitchen: Smother fire with baking soda; smother suds with table salt.])
So, our elderly failing dog seems to have a thickening between chest and abdomen which the knowledgeable veterinarian suspects is a mass or tumor. CT scan alone is $1000. (We don’t have pet insurance.) It will confirm his suspicion. Maybe he’s wrong? But only surgery to remove something bad will result in biopsy and a cancer diagnosis/staging unless by the grace of God it’s all benign; no malignancy. And then what, if it IS cancer? Like we can afford chemo/radiation, retirees on a very-modest/fixed income, living check to check each month? I gave oral chemo drugs to another of our dogs (20 yrs ago) and he died from the drugs before he did from his stomach cancer; I said never again.
This is an old, now-deaf dog with failing hips/spinal issues which can’t be fixed. She’s a big girl; larger-breed. As she approaches 13, she has lived her life expectancy. I feel (my heart crushing at the thought) we should humanely euthanize; husband says, “I can’t; not yet.” So, that’s where it stands for the time being. I don’t know what’s next. Except that he wants to do the $1000 scan. The vet doesn’t feel the dog’s in any kind of obvious pain for what could be this mass/tumor, but how does HE know; she can’t talk.
My baby. We don’t get our fur babies for long enough.
We’ve got the immediate problem of the fire aftermath before anything else. It’s all a bit much.
Everybody’s got problems; I know it’s not just us!
Vicki, each of us makes our own decision, with our beloved furry companions in mind. One of our dogs had cancer, an oral one with a bad prognosis. We agreed to surgery to remove it, but not to the extent that was recommended: amputation of the lower jaw stopping just before the root of the tongue, which wouldn’t even be to the recommended length behind the location of the cancer to make sure the margins were clean. We were assured dogs functioned quite well. But we knew our dog: a twelve-year-old goofy, quick-learning golden who had suffered through a terrible bout with painful glaucoma–envision your dog with his head stuck in a dark corner all the time–until we agreed to the final solution, removing the eye. We knew he didn’t react well to any time at the vets, any procedures, since that period with glaucoma. We said yes to removing the cancer at its location but no the amputation. Even that was horrible for him, it turned out. He was so crazed by medication or fear or pain when we got him home that we had to rush him to an emergency vet that night to repair damage done by his violent head shaking and thrashing. We had a separate reason to change vets shortly after his death. He lived about fourteen months longer, although the prognosis had been only nine months with the full amputation. Our new vet asked us a question she said she asked all new patients who had had a previous pet die of cancer: would you choose to go through with that treatment (chemo, amputation, an amputation only of that fleshy side of the lip, as we did, instead of the jaw) again? We said no. She said that’s what all the people answered. She was asking the question to gain more insight. I offer our answer now not to criticize those who choose (and maybe benefit from) more aggressive treatment, but to assuage any guilt you might feel if you choose the other route out of love for your dog and knowing where he is in his life’s journey. In a way, having the responsibility to make these decisions for so many furry companions during the years has shaped my own feelings about what end-of-life decisions I would or wouldn’t choose for myself.
Claudia, that schedule seems brutal.
Linda, thank you for taking the time to share such important insight. We’ve had 9 dogs in the past 30 years, most all were special needs. Glaucoma was hard with the cocker spaniel; she was fine with one eye but we wish we’d never followed the vet’s assurances that she’d do fine after she lost the second eye, because being blind was awful for her; we said never again. (We’d tried to treat the glaucoma but, as you know, it’s not any kind of exact science in a canine like a human. I had the same experience with another canine who developed diabetes from too much steroid treatment for another problem; injecting daily insulin for a canine is also, I found, not an exact science; she was miserable. Both of these dogs were elderly.)
Vets and we pulled back a puppy from the brink (who was hit with both parvo AND distemper from a previous neglectful owner) but we should have let him go to God because he had stomach problems for the rest of his life and I feel his docile/low-energy manner was indicative of probably having continual discomfort all his life when the vets kept telling us to treat him like a normal dog and that he was fine. (Obviously we’re the pet caretakers, at home with them all the time; we need to trust our instincts although we aren’t the medical professional.)
The other cocker with the stomach cancer had also had a leg surgery where part of the bone had to be removed and I swear to this day that the pain nearly killed him after surgery and although, in this case, he was better after the operation, it was too much to put him through to get to that point; I would never have done this again to any other dog. His recovery was lengthy and too painful. I feel we did the wrong thing. You should be able to ease their pain but there weren’t enough pain meds in the world, at the time, to give him necessary pain relief.
My current dog with the lump/tumor/mass or whatever it is, had a nose surgery a few months ago and she couldn’t tolerate the oral pain meds, so this is a huge issue I keep reminding my husband about; the after-surgery care. The pain therapy is something that must be looked at very, very seriously. You HAVE to be able to treat the pain. Our young, diminutive beagle (had likely come from a ‘bad’ breeder; we were 4th owner when she was still only 7 months old) had not just a spinal issue and a dental problem with overbite, but also an eventual life-threatening throat/trachea problem; we hated having to put her down at just age 7, but the spine thing became an urgent problem and surgery for the spine had no guarantees, would have cost thousands of dollars and she would have had to be isolated from us in a facility 100 miles away to where we couldn’t visit her for a month because they had to stabilize her in a small cage to reduce mobility. We were told our visits would cause her to be too active while she healed. That situation alone would have killed her. She was bonded to us and a deeply-emotional girl. We opted out; said no; one of our hardest decisions but she couldn’t go on as she was; her physical pain was not endurable.
So, I hear you. And I’m very sorry for what you went through with your dog. Our latest mutual decision this morning is that we’re going for a second opinion next week; we have a back-up vet and we want her opinion, too. My feeling is that our dear shepherd/retriever is at the end, and she deserves a peaceful ending. My husband needs to put her first; he knows this, but he can’t let go.
I know so well these struggles. I alway say the one mistake God made was to make the lives of animals so short – especially those of our beloved pets. Praying for your baby.
Love to you, Vicki.
Very, very scary.
I suggested switching places, but he said no.
We both miss our ‘routine’ – the simple things about our days.
Thanks, Vicki.
Stay safe.
I don’t think I could handle your schedule. I admire you for sticking with it and being professional. You will remember this experience forever.
Thanks, Kay.
Stay safe.
Glad you are finding your way around. I would be lost in NY!
Enjoy the extra hour of sleep this weekend as we “Fall back”!
No, you wouldn’t. You’d figure it out, just as every tourist does!
Stay safe, Ellen.
Good luck
I used to go everywhere at night
No more…age
Enjoy your time…
Thanks, Brenda.
Stay safe.
Now THAT is grueling and exhausting. And I would have been very nervous after midnight by myself coming home. Especially being so tired. Hang in there. It’s a fascinating experience and I know it will be a terrific addition to your credentials, which are already pretty darned amazing. I’m sorry about the visit with Don, but it’s probably for the best under the cirumstances. I hope you can go home during those other shoots — that would be such a blessing, even if you had to get up uber-early to get where you are going.
I’d have to get up less early than I would here, because going from the city involves a trip on the subway to wherever the pick-up point it, adding at least 45 minutes on to the journey, which will be at least an hour/hour and a half to the shooting site north of the city. I’ll have a direct shot from home and can do it in an hour.
Thanks, Jeanie.
Stay safe.