Day #6: Messin' Around

Today's prompt is "Do you come right out and tell people when you're joking around, or do you leave them guessing?"

Well, Readers, this is actually a dilemma I face often.  I have a bit of a deadpan, sarcastic style, and since I flatter myself that I'm also rather creative, I sometimes (who am I kidding?  almost DAILY) make a comment that has a person I don't know well saying in a high, flutey voice "REALLY?  Wow, uh, um, really?"

And then I have a choice.  If they seem genuinely at sea, I tend to take pity and throw them a lifejacket, in the form of a big, reassuring smile and a "No, not really."  But if they seem like they're just having a momentary lapse but are mostly down for this duel, I go even more deadpan and say "Of course." and then I add something even more unsavory and odd to follow up.  And that can go on for a while.

Now, if the person is really, really good, time goes by, and we keep this ball in the air, and eventually I no longer know if THEY'RE kidding and I start to panic and flail and my snorkel fills with water and I have to come up spluttering, crying uncle.  That's a moment that's both exciting and frustrating, because  it's fun but it means I lose.

Speaking of losing (prepare yourself for a big segue here) I am feeling so, so bitter about how the 48 Hour Film Project turned out this year.  Because, honestly, I get why the audience wouldn't choose us first (especially with those ahoy-matey Pirates in the mix) because the subject matter is a little self-consciously clever and the dialogue is complicated, getting funnier with multiple viewings, which that audience doesn't get.

But the judges?  Aren't they supposed to be filmmakers?  Which means they love self-consciously clever?  I mean, the one they're loving all over quotes Butler and Kristeva, for Pete's sake.  And you can't fault our mise-en-scene, which looks beautiful, or our acting, which is the strongest ever.  Plus, it's funny.  I mean, the audience laughed a LOT.  So what the @#$%&*?  It's even harder this year because instead of just finding out if you get an award at the Best Of, there are nominations for things.  And we didn't even get nominated!  Nor did we get chosen for the Best Of, for the first time in, like, five years.  Oh, it stings heartily, it does.

David still plans to attend the Best Of, because he's giving a Go-Pro award (though between you and me I think he would go anyway because he's a better sport than I am) but I am loathe to put on heels and a fake smile for an occasion where I am a has-been.  To fly so high last year!  And to melt our waxen wings and plummet back to earth!  It really hurts.