So That Happened

Every now and then something happens that reminds me of my own, and others mortality. It freaks me out. Last night was one of those instances. There were five of us in the car and we pulled up to our destination pretty sure we'd be looking for parking for hours. The driver, Gina, is blessed with being Italian and thereby always getting the best parking spots, or as she likes to say "Italian parking spots". I was beginning to believe all the hype of being Italian with this parking spot on a Saturday night. It was right in front. So we filed out of the car and were waiting on the sidewalk for Gina who was still in the car. We were talking about something or another - probably the validity of this whole Italian parking spot business - when we heard a crash. Not just any crash. I metallic glass loud bang clearly coming from the other side of our car that was not in view. And the first thing that ran through my mind was that Gina was dead. I thought a car had sideswiped as she was getting out. And then I looked on the street and couldn't see a car, and everyone we were with was panicking...like WTF just happened. Running to the car. I was still standing shocked on the sidewalk and there was a crowd growing on the other side of the street and I kept hearing, "Oh my God" and shocked murmurs.

I finally snapped out of it enough to go see just WTF had happened. Mind you, this is only like 10 seconds later. And I go around the car where the rest of the group is and see a biker moaning and standing up and Gina staring with wide eyes. She's alive! Holy shit, it was scary. I immediately scan the area for damage to people and property and someone grabs the bike out of the street and someone on the other side says "This is the second time I've seen that this week!" The guy must have been going fast, and with perfect(?) timing, Gina had opened her door, sending him to the ground and her door back way farther than it was even supposed to go. Crazy stuff.

The biker gets up holding his head, muttering about a concussion but he seems...okay. People okay - check. I walk over to him with authority like some sort of doctor or something and check his pupils. Thank you ER and Grey's Anatomy. I "assure" him his pupils are the same size and ask him basic questions and ask about his vision. He seems to take stock in what I say and is like "that's good". Eh...I wonder if I should have told him I don't actually have a PhD.

Anyway, long story short, the biker eventually moseys down the street with his uninjured bike, amazingly. Assuring us all he's okay. (I so hope that's true!) And meanwhile at the car, the new problem has arised that the door no longer shuts. It's a regular old competition between all the men to see who can get it shut. Lots of slams - resulting in the door bouncing back. A metal on metal sound that clearly illustrates that this door is effed. The valet guys come help us and after 30 minutes of failed attempts at realigning the door, we finally reach the conclusion that it has to be tied shut so the car can be driven home. The problem with that is all the interior lights staying on will most likely drain the battery over night.

Gina finally speaks up that she has triple A so we call them to see if they can have better luck with the door. They don't and they end up just retying it and showing her how to disable the battery overnight. We are trying to convince Gina that the night is clearly over - seeing as it is now 12:30 and her car door is not lockable. She doesn't bite and insists on at least getting a drink. What a trooper. I would have not been functioning after the whole ordeal. Actually wasn't functioning for a bit there, and it didn't even happen to me.

Anyway. How easily that could have been a car. How one second we're all joking and laughing about Italian parking spots and the next, something like this happens. So fast. Just unbelievable to think about. And things like that do happen. That's the crazy part. I mean luckily everyone is okay, but I can only imagine a fraction of how people feel when something so out of the blue happens. Eh.

So this is a friendly reminder to check and double check when opening your door to the street. Sheesh. What a night.

Interesting Development in the War on Pirates

and on our own soil!

What Goes Around...

Apparently there are worse things than getting bad notes! Thank you world for that discussion we had. I'm proven wrong. Again. Yes, thank you.

Sorry just a little "You're right, I'm wrong" message I had to send out to the universe.

Now to the good stuff. Okay so I love Televisionwithoutpity.com and read it on the regular. Well nooooowwwwww, a show I am working on, in a creative kind of way, has a forum there! Yes. So basically where I used to bitch and moan and say things are brilliant, people now get that same opportunity to do with me! And an episode in which I co-edited had a post, "The editors did...". So not only are people posting about my show, they are posting about me! In a small, tiny way. But my mind is blown. And I would love to pimp the show here but know a lot of the people that Google it and would rather not direct my bosses to my blog. Soooo, let me just say it's on The Learning C, the day after Mon, every night at ten pm. Look it up. Watch it. And get your mind blown.

Bad Notes

Okay I'm sure there are worse things in this world than sitting through a screening in which the notes just keep on coming, but geez. It's tough in my job to sit and have something you've worked on for so long get torn apart so easily. Which is what happened yesterday. Not that the notes weren't spot on or anything. Unfortunately they were. Of course I've had worse. When I was in college, a screening one time went so badly that the director walked out of the room, leaving me behind, humiliated and scarred for life. Which is when I learned to grow some thick skin, which is easier said than done. Because man, right when I think my job is a walk in the park, something like this happens that shows me there's a reason I'm making money at this. It's hard. It's really effin hard. And now I have three days to sit and focus and churn out some genius stuff, or I fear my job is on the line. So of course I'm motivated now - which is definitely one upside to this whole thing. But I have a lot of people counting on me, which makes this whole thing worse when I let, even for a single second, the thought slip into my head that maybe I'm just not good enough. Which if you ask my mom, is just not true. And if I had a weekend before the cut was due I'd feel better, but I don't. So I'm chaining myself to my desk today and buckling down and going to figure this thing out. It's days like this I wonder why in the world I went into this crazy business when you are repeatedly setting yourself up for someone out there to Mitchum Huntzburger you.

Anyway, that's my current thoughts on my flagellation yesterday. That and, why do I insist on dressing up for these things! When you are being torn to shreds, it's almost worse when you're wearing cute shoes.

Why I Limped Off The Elevator

No, I wasn't hurt! I was faking! It was after work on Tuesday and I had pulled into my driveway around 7:30. It was a rather non-productive afternoon at work and I was feeling exceptionally lazy. I park in the basement of my building, and with two rather small stairways to go to my apt on the second floor, I opted for the elevator. I always hope it doesn't stop on the first floor, so my laziness isn't revealed, but on this day, no such luck. Someone stepped on, I asked what floor, and he said 4. Four is a far more reasonable reason to take the elevator, so feeling a bit silly for my 2 flight rise, when the doors opened on 2, I limped out. My concern for what my neighbor thought of me made me laugh.

Work is going pretty good. I feel like I'm doing a better job than anyone expected, already ahead of schedule enough that they put me on someone else's project for a day to help them catch up. I got the owners of the company presents for Christmas. CDs of the Stars, my favorite band. Now I just feel weird about it. It's not like I talk to these people a lot or anything, I just wanted to show them some appreciation for everything that they do. I think I was the only editor to get them something. I blame my Southern roots. And I feel a teensy bit awkward now. Especially since one of them barely said hi to me in the hall post-gift. I had left them on their desks before Christmas, and surely he had received it by then. Was he feeling awkward too? It kinda seemed like it, and that's not what I had planned at all.

Anyway, today is New Year's Day, 09! I'm sick. In fact, I was so sick last night I fell asleep at 10pm and woke up at 3am, thus missing the ringing in of the new year. Tonight I'm having a murder mystery dinner party at my apartment, which means I need to push through whatever it is I have by tonight. Lots of vitamin C, Zinc, Green Tea, cold medicine. It also means I need to clean my apartment, and finally finish unpacking. I know, it's been 2 months! My bedroom isn't quite finished because I was waiting for my friend to finish the whale on my wall. Yes, you read that correctly.

Anyway, I should get to cleaning and germ fighting. Happy New Year and here's to not caring who knows you are lazy!

Thanksgiving Playlist (subject to change without notice)