No More Ms Nice Bucket

I laid on the couch last night, neck at an awkward ninty-degree angle, MSNBC talking about horrible crimes and their victims, and Hopper lying between my legs/ My eyes drifting shut and my computer, amazingly, closed beside me/ I knew I had an update to give, but my body relaxed in relief of the setting sun/

My day yesterday was an exciting one/ For me, that is/ No more celeb sightings to report or anything like that, (that seems to makes my hits skyrocket)/ Instead it was my first day of work/ Job, got, I/ Woo!

So this is how it happened: My friend gave me an email address of the VP of HR in a production company where she used to work/ My subject line was, "Ref by [friend]"/ I sent my resume and a brief cover letter/ The next day I get a call from the HR department saying that they'd love to meet with me, get me in their system so when jobs come up, they can see if it's something I'd be interested in/ I was ecstatic, as that would be the second interview scheduled that day! I was making some progress in this search I thought would never end/

I went to the first interview that was something I had found on Craigslist/ It sounded similar to my old job, but instead of TV shows, they did TV promos/ And, I wouldn't be editing/ I'd be an assitant editor, in which my duties would include some administrative work as well/ It was a staff position so there wasn't any backing out if I got the opportunity of a lifetime, and as he discussed the position in more detail, I was forced to think of how it wouldn't help me in my ultimate goals, (of taking over the world)/ Or being a television show editor/ The fact that I still had aforementioned interview relaxed me, and with another prospect, I was able to decide that this job just wasn't for me/

That afternoon, I got a call from the Prod Co HR department again, saying a position had come up and they'd like me to come in on Friday instead of Monday/ She told me breifly about the position which I told you in my previous post/

I get there and am forced to wait about an hour, and I keep the smile on my face, and am nice to the receptionist who emailed my arrival instead of called, and "didn't know the internet was down"/ Finally, she figured something fishy was going on, as she hadn't heard anything as of yet/ Finally, she called them, only to discover they hadn't known I had arrived/ She was nice enough to tell them that not only had I been on time, I had been early/

They come out apologetically and give me standard HR paperwork/ Now from my experience in NY, I loathed working through HR/ They are always stiff and condesending and like to pretend you are wasting their time, even though your presence is what pays their bills/ But this HR department was completely different/

They were warm and inviting, conversational and optimistic/ I could tell they were trying to help me find a good position for my skillset/ We discussed some of the shows that the production company did, as some of them, I watched/ We had a great conversation and then, they took me to introduce me to the post-production department/

The guys there were all nice, but I was horrified to learn they wanted me to take a test/ Now the thing about post-production is, I can do stuff with my eyes closed/ I know how to do things, and what to do, but as far as what things are called, and why certain things are done, I'm a little rusty/ Of course, this test was exactly that/ Naming cords and indentifying fasted connections by name/ Discussing the different between non-drop frame TC and drop-frame timecode/ I did the best I could and only hoped that failing the test wouldn't mean I had also failed the interview/

They told me that they'd call me today, which was great not to have to sit anxiously for days awaiting a phone call/ So I went home and relaxed, and decided that I wanted this job so much, that I wouldn't even look at new ads, and that if this didn't work out, I'd resume my search on Monday/

Well, as you've probably deducted, they called me and I had gotten the job/ It starts on Monday and I'm super excited/ They informed me of a production meeting that was happening on Saturday, (yesterday)/ I went to the studios at eleven o'clock, filled out my paperwork and met lots of people I'd be working with/ As this is a new show, they had already completed the pilot, in which I was invited to watch/ As I signed more confidentality papers yesterday than I have in my entire life combined, unfortunatly, I can't say much more about the job, other than I'll be working on set as an editor for segments used in the show, but not actually the show itself/ If that makes any sense/

After the screening, I went to the post offices and picked up my computer I would be using, loaded uo all the footage I would need, and met the person who did my job on the pilot/ It turned into a full day of activity and driving, that when I got home and ate dinner, I collasped on the couch, where I didn't mind that my neck was at an odd angle, the television was too loud and depressing, my that my dog made it difficult to stretch my legs out completely/

I have a job/ And for the most part, feel pretty confident about it/ The first episode is going to be a little rough, but other than that, I think it's going to be a great experience, and a perfect position for someone like myself/

When I finally coaxed myself off of the couch, I decided to take the dogs out on their usual late night backyard romp/ Despite the walks we had taken, the dogs were energized and whenever Hopper runs around, Cillian likes to chase her and bark loudly at her/ You'd think she was the shepherd of the two/ Well, since Cillian listens fairly well, I got her inside no problem/ Hopper, still running around like a crazy person, did something that made my heart drop/ I knew it was bound to happen sometime, but didn't think it would happen so easily/ She ran right past me, fast as light, down my driveway and into the dark/ I didn't know where she had gone/ I was thankful that not many cars were out, my in my head, cursed her uncanny ability to not listen when I tell her to "Come"/

I'm sure my blood pressure spiked, and as I barefoot down the driveway to see where she might have gone/ She stood steadfast in the neighbors yard, threatening to run if I took one step closer/ I felt like I was negotiating for a hostage, urging her to come to Momma, and nobody will get hurt/ I could never be a negotiator in real life, as my pleading did nothing/ She turned up her nose and sniffed the air, probably looking for the chicken bone yard she thinks is right around the corner/ I asked her if she wanted to eat, and in my happiest tone said, "Come on good girl! Let's get some food!" Her tail wagged, but she needed proof/ I went inside for a second and retrived her food/ I walked back outside, still with no shoes, and no jacket, and shook the food/ She started to come to me, but I sensed her hesitation/ So with her food, I turned back to the house and started walking, hearing her collar rattling behind me/ I didn't even turn to look at her, as I was sure she assumed she was sneaking behind me, not wanting me to assume that she was giving in/ I got to the stairs and walked up, she followed/ When she got inside the door, I slammed it shut behind her and turned and asked her, "What the hell where you thinking?!?!" She didn't answer, and I questioned how on earth I could try and train her to come to me when I say "come", and not turn and run away/

I know, gotta be nice when they come, but I couldn't/ I was too irritated and obviously don't have the patience it takes to correctly train a dog/ I will work on her more, but until then, she's going on her leash when she goes outside/ No more Ms Nice Bucket/