That's depressing. I kinda went on a spending spree this weekend. Eck. After successfully finishing me two-job work week, I got two paychecks. So I decided I should get new stuff for my apartment. (And YET ANOTHER bridesmaids dress.)
And then I came home and checked the damage, and woo-wee, I can swipe a card to death. While I want to buy the two Mary Roach books I don't have, Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex and Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife, AND the Chelsea Handler book, Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea, I think my card, (and account), could use a break.
My damage went towards:
A side table for my couch,
a lamp to go atop,
wine glasses,
(non-related!) candles,
a couple of new coffee cups,
dog toys and doggy blanket,
a car wash,
a tank of gas (GUH),
bought dinner for a friend,
the aforementioned Bridesmaids Dress,
and a wooden figurine guy in which I can paint and decorate to my hearts desire, and was only 5 bucks but thought it was one of the cooler things I purchased.
I rationalize by believing I helped the economy a little this weekend.
But yay! Lamp light! No more overhead! How exciting. In hindsight, the lamp, table, and dress were the three objectives for the weekend. And now I sit with all these new dishes and stuff, and a hole in my pocket where money once was.
New job is good. It's good work-wise, friend-wise I feel like a total loser, not seeming to really click with anyone. And I think my boss hates me. And the guy who sits in the cubicle, (that's right, I'm editing in a cubicle), next to me, freely interchanges "bro" for "bra" and I think I may go deaf from turning my volume up so loud to try and drown the sac-relig out. "Bra, you got to check this out. Bra, Bra, Braaaa." Vom.
But lots of work, a little play, and lots of stress-relieving shopping going on. (Isn't it ironic that I shop to relieve stress, but after checking my account, the stress comes back full force?)
Oh and then there's this fun, but oh so speculative and probably just me projecting, (it needs to be taken with less than a grain of salt), thing, in which I went to the beach on Sunday morning and got quite a surprise. I was driving down Sunset to pick up my brother, (or "bra"), and I saw a black Range Rover with a brunette in a yellow hat leaving the street in which my fav Matt in the world lives, and it was definitely a drive of shame hour. Okay so if you know how many black Range Rovers there are in LA, (I counted fourty in thirty minutes once), you will know that the probability at what I am suggesting, without actually suggesting, mind you, was probably me wanting to see that. If that made any sense to you, your name is probably Christie, or you are as insane as I.
I love wine. I love decorating my apartment. I love visitors. I love a clean apartment, that oh-so rarely happens. I love my new wine glasses! I started the "I loves" for a reason and now it has escaped me.
Another random thought: whatever happened to the Charlotte Hornets? I told you it was random.
Memorial Day weekend is on the horizon!!!! Wooooo-to the-Hooo!
Showing posts with label celebrities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label celebrities. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Holy Grail
Matthew Perry walked by me last night. Looking hot, I may add! He was at the movies with some friends. The friend I was with has been to the movies 5 times since she's lived in LA, including last night. Three of those five? She's seen Mr. Perry. Lucky girl. After he left, she started talking about how funny it is she's seen him so much to which I promptly responded, "Rachel! Stop stealing my thunder!"
So officially, I've figured out what I do when I see someone I love. I freeze and go silent and concentrate on not passing out. The probability of me ever being able to actually speak words is so slim I wonder if I'll ever have the guts to say, "Good job in Numb", which is what I had been planning on saying when I finally crossed paths with Matthew.
My pup is sick but she's not acting like it except a few choice moments in which my heart falls to my feet. We're going to the vet tomorrow to figure out just what's going on. I'm pretty nervous about that actually. Moving on...
In the span of twenty four hours, I got two exciting job prospects placed in my "Maybe" column.
And, you know when you make coffee and it's all wrong, too watery or too strong or during the process of coffee-making, the filter was pushed inwards causing grounds to spill into the maker, and its so much that when you put in the creamer you can see the grounds floating? And you try to drink it anyway, but it's so bad you have to deprive your body of caffeine for a longer time, so you pour the coffee into the sink and frown as the too light or too dark coffee circles in the drain, (or more realistically, splashes down the pile of dirty dishes, going to a drain that you know is down there somewhere). And you vow to make it worth your while this time by making the best pot of coffee you have ever made, but when you finally get it all made, you taste it, and while it's a little better, it's not the best cup you've ever made, but you drink it anyway, because third times a charm doesn't apply to you when you need caffeine and don't want to waste anymore of your freshly ground coffee, and even though it doesn't taste just right, you smell it and need it, so you take it down with a grimace and vow that tomorrow, you will make the best pot of coffee you have ever made.
This is how I feel about most of my life right now.
On the subject of coffee, just wanted to let you know that while I still love my coffeemaker, the honeymoon is sooo over. Just not putting out the way it use to, you know? (That was just too easy.)
So officially, I've figured out what I do when I see someone I love. I freeze and go silent and concentrate on not passing out. The probability of me ever being able to actually speak words is so slim I wonder if I'll ever have the guts to say, "Good job in Numb", which is what I had been planning on saying when I finally crossed paths with Matthew.
My pup is sick but she's not acting like it except a few choice moments in which my heart falls to my feet. We're going to the vet tomorrow to figure out just what's going on. I'm pretty nervous about that actually. Moving on...
In the span of twenty four hours, I got two exciting job prospects placed in my "Maybe" column.
And, you know when you make coffee and it's all wrong, too watery or too strong or during the process of coffee-making, the filter was pushed inwards causing grounds to spill into the maker, and its so much that when you put in the creamer you can see the grounds floating? And you try to drink it anyway, but it's so bad you have to deprive your body of caffeine for a longer time, so you pour the coffee into the sink and frown as the too light or too dark coffee circles in the drain, (or more realistically, splashes down the pile of dirty dishes, going to a drain that you know is down there somewhere). And you vow to make it worth your while this time by making the best pot of coffee you have ever made, but when you finally get it all made, you taste it, and while it's a little better, it's not the best cup you've ever made, but you drink it anyway, because third times a charm doesn't apply to you when you need caffeine and don't want to waste anymore of your freshly ground coffee, and even though it doesn't taste just right, you smell it and need it, so you take it down with a grimace and vow that tomorrow, you will make the best pot of coffee you have ever made.
This is how I feel about most of my life right now.
On the subject of coffee, just wanted to let you know that while I still love my coffeemaker, the honeymoon is sooo over. Just not putting out the way it use to, you know? (That was just too easy.)
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Mean Mr. Mustard!
Okay I've stopped trying to analyze this one but here's an interesting dream I had last night. Slightly traumatic.
Okay, Jay Leno and Conan O'Brien were eating lunch together and I was somehow sitting at a table near them and held some sort of respect in their eyes. (Bare with me here.) I was sort of in charge of keeping people's noses in their own business, telling them to move along if they stopped to talk. Weeeelllll, at some point, Matthew Perry comes and is standing next to me watching Jay and Conan with a smile. I stare up in wonder as this is the first time I've seen Chandler, my second television crush, (the first, JTT). And I grab his sleeve, (this I remember clearly, grabbing his sleeve that is), and he smiles at me, and I say hello. At this point, Jay and Conan disappear, or I abondon my station. It's not clear which. We have a plesant conversation and then next thing dream-me knows, I'm eating lunch at a table with him and his friends. But I'm no longer a fan. I'm one of them.
Okay so we are all talking and laughing and having a good time and I start squeezing in fan questions. All is going well until... dum, dum, dum...dream-me says, "How's Lauren?" (As in Lauren Graham.) He puts his head in his hands and growls. Everyone at the table glares at me and he stands abruptly and starts pacing. He's on a sidewalk going in and out of view and everyone is trying to coax him down. But he's furious. They're all like, "It's okay!", "She didn't mean it!" "Come back and eat your hotdog!"
Meanwhile, in my most, "you're being overdramatic" voice I yell, "Matttttthhhhhhhheeeewwwww!"
He ignores me.
"Matthew Perry I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
In my head, I'm wondering what happened with Lauren. I'm scared to ask.
Another friend approaches the table and asks what happens when a man, who I will refer to as Mean Mr. Mustard, (one of Matthew's friends), points to me and says, "Betsy asked him about Lauren." And then ripples of "Betsy asked him about Lauren" goes through the table, along with scowls of discontent and glares directed towards me. All of the sudden, Mean Mr. Mustard grabs an old-school yellow bottle of mustard and points it at me and starts squirting. It is hitting the side of my face and hair in spurts of embarrassment so my pleas increase, "Matthew!!!! Matthew Perry!!!!!" Dream-me is convinced he's going to come save me from Mean Mr. Mustard.
At this point, mustard is dripping from my chin and I'm pretty sure my yells have turned panicked. The mustard and my pleas for Matthew don't stop coming until I reach consciousness.
Seriously. That was my dream.
Okay, Jay Leno and Conan O'Brien were eating lunch together and I was somehow sitting at a table near them and held some sort of respect in their eyes. (Bare with me here.) I was sort of in charge of keeping people's noses in their own business, telling them to move along if they stopped to talk. Weeeelllll, at some point, Matthew Perry comes and is standing next to me watching Jay and Conan with a smile. I stare up in wonder as this is the first time I've seen Chandler, my second television crush, (the first, JTT). And I grab his sleeve, (this I remember clearly, grabbing his sleeve that is), and he smiles at me, and I say hello. At this point, Jay and Conan disappear, or I abondon my station. It's not clear which. We have a plesant conversation and then next thing dream-me knows, I'm eating lunch at a table with him and his friends. But I'm no longer a fan. I'm one of them.
Okay so we are all talking and laughing and having a good time and I start squeezing in fan questions. All is going well until... dum, dum, dum...dream-me says, "How's Lauren?" (As in Lauren Graham.) He puts his head in his hands and growls. Everyone at the table glares at me and he stands abruptly and starts pacing. He's on a sidewalk going in and out of view and everyone is trying to coax him down. But he's furious. They're all like, "It's okay!", "She didn't mean it!" "Come back and eat your hotdog!"
Meanwhile, in my most, "you're being overdramatic" voice I yell, "Matttttthhhhhhhheeeewwwww!"
He ignores me.
"Matthew Perry I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
In my head, I'm wondering what happened with Lauren. I'm scared to ask.
Another friend approaches the table and asks what happens when a man, who I will refer to as Mean Mr. Mustard, (one of Matthew's friends), points to me and says, "Betsy asked him about Lauren." And then ripples of "Betsy asked him about Lauren" goes through the table, along with scowls of discontent and glares directed towards me. All of the sudden, Mean Mr. Mustard grabs an old-school yellow bottle of mustard and points it at me and starts squirting. It is hitting the side of my face and hair in spurts of embarrassment so my pleas increase, "Matthew!!!! Matthew Perry!!!!!" Dream-me is convinced he's going to come save me from Mean Mr. Mustard.
At this point, mustard is dripping from my chin and I'm pretty sure my yells have turned panicked. The mustard and my pleas for Matthew don't stop coming until I reach consciousness.
Seriously. That was my dream.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Oh My GOOOOOOOOD
Yes, I just saw my favorite celebrity ever! Oh man! I can't even type right now. I was sitting across from her at a resturant. I'm insane right now, sorry. Just thought I'd share! Oh my goodness. I don't even know what to say other than, oh my goodness!! I can't believe that just happened!!! I'm in a state of euphoria. CDBL------CALL ME!
Monday, December 17, 2007
Step Away From iTunes
So since I'm already on a night schedule, I decided to just go ahead and stay up until I have to take my brother to the airport at six am. I thought it would be fun to finally set up that iTunes account I've contemplated for a while now. And I can't stop buying songs! Embarrassingly enough, the song that made me breakdown and sign up was "How Far We've Come" by Matchbox Twenty, and you know what, I'm not embarrassed! Judge me if you must, but I like Matchbox Twenty, 20, or even, XX. They were my first concert that I chose to go to, (I got dragged to quite a few in my younger years - usually famed country music stars).
Anyway, the point is, I need to get away from iTunes. I keep thinking of songs I want, need, and have to have.
Instead of purchasing songs I've convinced myself I can't live without, I'll tell you how I got a cruel universe joke played on me tonight. I have days when I wake up and feel like I'm going to see a celebrity. Today was one of those days. When I have my day planned out, I just know that probability is higher in some places, and there's a certain ratio that can get my hopes up.
A friend and I went to a resturant in which last time I was there, we saw four celebrities, of various degrees of course. Favorite sighting of that day was Sean Gunn - yes my Gilmore heart always wins out. Anyway, today, nada.
We happened to go by some other places that I would consider high probability, and still nada.
Well, my brother came over tonight and we went to get some dinner in Los Feliz. Well, my little Gilmore-loving heart nearly exploded as a Lauren Graham wanna-be walked in the diner we settled on. Los Feliz and I have a history of these run-ins and this woman was seriously freakily similar to Lauren Graham. Freakily. This woman had a nose (job?) that, if I'm not mistaken, was a replica of LG's nose. Strange thing to notice, but it was that and the hair that had me really thinking it was her. It took me a few seconds of staring before I settled on "No way". What a tease though! That would have been seriously the most amazing thing ever. Worse case scenario, this woman was LG's stand-in or something. It was the strangest thing. I felt like someone was playing a joke on me. I wish I could have gotten a picture but on the slim to none chance it was actually LG, I'm sure flash bulbs make her cagey.
Anyway, the point is, I need to get away from iTunes. I keep thinking of songs I want, need, and have to have.
Instead of purchasing songs I've convinced myself I can't live without, I'll tell you how I got a cruel universe joke played on me tonight. I have days when I wake up and feel like I'm going to see a celebrity. Today was one of those days. When I have my day planned out, I just know that probability is higher in some places, and there's a certain ratio that can get my hopes up.
A friend and I went to a resturant in which last time I was there, we saw four celebrities, of various degrees of course. Favorite sighting of that day was Sean Gunn - yes my Gilmore heart always wins out. Anyway, today, nada.
We happened to go by some other places that I would consider high probability, and still nada.
Well, my brother came over tonight and we went to get some dinner in Los Feliz. Well, my little Gilmore-loving heart nearly exploded as a Lauren Graham wanna-be walked in the diner we settled on. Los Feliz and I have a history of these run-ins and this woman was seriously freakily similar to Lauren Graham. Freakily. This woman had a nose (job?) that, if I'm not mistaken, was a replica of LG's nose. Strange thing to notice, but it was that and the hair that had me really thinking it was her. It took me a few seconds of staring before I settled on "No way". What a tease though! That would have been seriously the most amazing thing ever. Worse case scenario, this woman was LG's stand-in or something. It was the strangest thing. I felt like someone was playing a joke on me. I wish I could have gotten a picture but on the slim to none chance it was actually LG, I'm sure flash bulbs make her cagey.
Friday, November 16, 2007
An Epic Blog Entry
I've needed to update for a while.
Highlights?
*I moved to Hollywood.
That's right! Hollywood proper. I now have one of the easiest commutes ever!
*I've been working on a new show pilot as the associate editor. Sometimes acting as a second editor, sometimes as an assistant. That was terrifyingly hard at first-especially the second editor bit. It was one of those jobs where I was working ten hours and by the end of the day, I still felt like I had sooo much work to do. I constantly felt behind and like there just weren't enough hours in the day. Things have since calmed down and I'm happily working nights again.
*My family came for Thanksgiving. It was bizarre and wonderful. We ate at tons of great restaurants and did a bunch of touristy things. I finally went on one of the star homes tours and left the bus feeling dirtier than I ever recall feeling. It really made me feel sorry for celebrities. But then again, as my brother in law pointed out, it's the price of fame.
*I saw the Stars live again. And on the first lyric, tears came to my eyes. It was so moving and amazing. They are rooted deeply in my heart.
*The writer's strike. I've never been happier to work in reality. I'm totally with the writers on this one though. The internet is quickly replacing dvds and dare I say, changing the industry forever. Their pay deserves to evolve with the changing times. The sad part of all this is all the other people working in Hollywood that have no jobs, as by this point most productions have gone dark. In an industry where a lot of the crew is living paycheck to paycheck, this comes as a major blow. Especially so close to the holidays. Sad all around. Let's hope they reach a resolution soon.
*In my new apartment, I decided that I would install a new toilet paper holder with my new toolkit I got! Well I go to Target and find this cute ring one. I go through the process of installing it, and once it is on the wall, I go to put the toilet paper on. It is then that I discover that it does not open. Upon closer inspection of the packaging, I notice it says "Towel Ring", not "Toilet Paper Ring". Yeah. I know. I'm embarrassed about it. For some strange reason, installing this toilet paper ring thing was standing for my independence and ability to do things for myself. Oh, the irony.
*And now for the BIG one. I got a promotion. A big one. I'm going to be editing starting in January! I can not express my excitement about this with mere exclamation points. Anyway, I'll edit for a couple months, fill in as an assistant temporarily until this new show starts up in the summer, in which I'll be serving as an editor! Permanently! Like, for real editor. Okay, that's very huge for me. Seeing as my birthday in at the end of December, I'll be officially an editor starting in 2008, after my quarter-century birthday.
*Lastly, I am amazed by the Universe. First, I went to the planetarium, in which my mind was blown. Then, in a matter of a few days, I watched the History or Discovery show "The Universe". (Watch it!)
Here's a statistic to blow your mind. If only 1% of the suns in the universe have an earth-like planet revolving around them, then there are billions of other Earth's out there. Billions! 1%. We have found like 200 planets so far that revolve around alien suns. ("Alien" as in not ours.) None have the ability for life to grow because they are either too close to their sun or too far away. Even if only one of the billions of planets out there happens to fall in the able-to-sprout-life range, we are not alone. And that's one out of billions of possibilities. It all depends on where the planet forms and starts its rotation.
There could be "Earth"s that are still in the stage of development that would mirror what we call the "Prehistoric Era". Dinosaurs, people. Think of all the possibilities. There could be civilizations still using candlelight to draw their cave paintings. There could be civilations that have already met their Armageddon's, nothing but charred remains of structures that once held an abundance of life. There could be life decades further advanced than us.
Maybe there is no other human life at all. Perhaps something in our atmosphere is so rare that it only allowed us to evolve the way we did. But, for the first time in my life, I'm seriously doubting it. I think I believe in aliens.
Highlights?
*I moved to Hollywood.
That's right! Hollywood proper. I now have one of the easiest commutes ever!
*I've been working on a new show pilot as the associate editor. Sometimes acting as a second editor, sometimes as an assistant. That was terrifyingly hard at first-especially the second editor bit. It was one of those jobs where I was working ten hours and by the end of the day, I still felt like I had sooo much work to do. I constantly felt behind and like there just weren't enough hours in the day. Things have since calmed down and I'm happily working nights again.
*My family came for Thanksgiving. It was bizarre and wonderful. We ate at tons of great restaurants and did a bunch of touristy things. I finally went on one of the star homes tours and left the bus feeling dirtier than I ever recall feeling. It really made me feel sorry for celebrities. But then again, as my brother in law pointed out, it's the price of fame.
*I saw the Stars live again. And on the first lyric, tears came to my eyes. It was so moving and amazing. They are rooted deeply in my heart.
*The writer's strike. I've never been happier to work in reality. I'm totally with the writers on this one though. The internet is quickly replacing dvds and dare I say, changing the industry forever. Their pay deserves to evolve with the changing times. The sad part of all this is all the other people working in Hollywood that have no jobs, as by this point most productions have gone dark. In an industry where a lot of the crew is living paycheck to paycheck, this comes as a major blow. Especially so close to the holidays. Sad all around. Let's hope they reach a resolution soon.
*In my new apartment, I decided that I would install a new toilet paper holder with my new toolkit I got! Well I go to Target and find this cute ring one. I go through the process of installing it, and once it is on the wall, I go to put the toilet paper on. It is then that I discover that it does not open. Upon closer inspection of the packaging, I notice it says "Towel Ring", not "Toilet Paper Ring". Yeah. I know. I'm embarrassed about it. For some strange reason, installing this toilet paper ring thing was standing for my independence and ability to do things for myself. Oh, the irony.
*And now for the BIG one. I got a promotion. A big one. I'm going to be editing starting in January! I can not express my excitement about this with mere exclamation points. Anyway, I'll edit for a couple months, fill in as an assistant temporarily until this new show starts up in the summer, in which I'll be serving as an editor! Permanently! Like, for real editor. Okay, that's very huge for me. Seeing as my birthday in at the end of December, I'll be officially an editor starting in 2008, after my quarter-century birthday.
*Lastly, I am amazed by the Universe. First, I went to the planetarium, in which my mind was blown. Then, in a matter of a few days, I watched the History or Discovery show "The Universe". (Watch it!)
Here's a statistic to blow your mind. If only 1% of the suns in the universe have an earth-like planet revolving around them, then there are billions of other Earth's out there. Billions! 1%. We have found like 200 planets so far that revolve around alien suns. ("Alien" as in not ours.) None have the ability for life to grow because they are either too close to their sun or too far away. Even if only one of the billions of planets out there happens to fall in the able-to-sprout-life range, we are not alone. And that's one out of billions of possibilities. It all depends on where the planet forms and starts its rotation.
There could be "Earth"s that are still in the stage of development that would mirror what we call the "Prehistoric Era". Dinosaurs, people. Think of all the possibilities. There could be civilizations still using candlelight to draw their cave paintings. There could be civilations that have already met their Armageddon's, nothing but charred remains of structures that once held an abundance of life. There could be life decades further advanced than us.
Maybe there is no other human life at all. Perhaps something in our atmosphere is so rare that it only allowed us to evolve the way we did. But, for the first time in my life, I'm seriously doubting it. I think I believe in aliens.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Funny Fame (by association?)
Okay. So I have these friends who have sort of become a little famous lately for their sketch comedy. Pretty crazy actually. Their group is called POYKPAC and of course I'm going to pimp them. (Do people still "pimp" things?)
"POYKPAC"
So that there is their link to their super funny videos on YouTube. Based out of Williamsburg, they are starting to get recognized on the street and fan mail and the whole thing. Kinda crazy! (In fact, they might even get their own internet show!) One of their more recent videos has a couple shots of me in it. Look for a blonde in the front row, I enter with Maggie, and check out what we did for entertainment in college here:
Anyway, it's pretty cool to know people on the cusp of hitting it big. So you heard it here first! Poykpac is the next big thing! Tell your friends!
My life is kinda insane right now. I'm in the process of getting a new apartment, which I found one today that I love. Now if we can get our pesky landlord to release us from the lease. I'm thinking with the fire, it's a battle that can be won. I edited that music video, which I'll link here the second it's officially on YouTube, and got a small promotion at work, with possibility of a much, much bigger one soon.
I'm second editor on a new show for Discovery channel and that's going good I think. Well, it's going. I'm trying to knock their socks off so the big promotion can happen. Big promotion would mean me as an editor next season for the show I've been working on before this latest one, (starting in December). So that's HUGE. Huge I tell you. So lots of stuff going on.
Well check out POYKPAC and spam all your friends with links and I'll check back in soon!
"POYKPAC"
So that there is their link to their super funny videos on YouTube. Based out of Williamsburg, they are starting to get recognized on the street and fan mail and the whole thing. Kinda crazy! (In fact, they might even get their own internet show!) One of their more recent videos has a couple shots of me in it. Look for a blonde in the front row, I enter with Maggie, and check out what we did for entertainment in college here:
Anyway, it's pretty cool to know people on the cusp of hitting it big. So you heard it here first! Poykpac is the next big thing! Tell your friends!
My life is kinda insane right now. I'm in the process of getting a new apartment, which I found one today that I love. Now if we can get our pesky landlord to release us from the lease. I'm thinking with the fire, it's a battle that can be won. I edited that music video, which I'll link here the second it's officially on YouTube, and got a small promotion at work, with possibility of a much, much bigger one soon.
I'm second editor on a new show for Discovery channel and that's going good I think. Well, it's going. I'm trying to knock their socks off so the big promotion can happen. Big promotion would mean me as an editor next season for the show I've been working on before this latest one, (starting in December). So that's HUGE. Huge I tell you. So lots of stuff going on.
Well check out POYKPAC and spam all your friends with links and I'll check back in soon!
Friday, April 06, 2007
Disappointment (You Darn Spoiled Brat)-Take 2
I'm through all the stages of grief. You witnessed anger in Lost. A walk around the block took care of the rest. Now I'm at acceptance. Begrudged acceptance.
Someone in the blogosphere did not like what I wrote in my other blog. They refused to post it. In fact, they went to such great lengths to ensure my epic post would never be read, they disconnected my internet at the exact moment I was trying to post. Now I wonder if I should rewrite at all. Of course I will, or attempt to recreate my well-crafted post, but it hurts. I'm at a loss when I get the window that says so nonchalantly, "We're sorry, but we were unable to complete your request."
Oh yeah? Excuse me while I jump out of the window. Pressing "Back" did nothing as well, and didn't there used to be a "Recover" button somewhere? Well not anymore, you fine folks. Not anymore.
What do professionals do in such a humbling moment? Cry? Is it okay to cry and weep? Because I want to cry and weep. Is nausea normal?
Where did I begin before? Oh yeah, disappointment. Ironic, eh?
Disappointment. Well, I didn't get that job I had so badly wanted. Who cares if I thought I had nailed the interview. Obviously, they didn't. This was the event that threw off my day yesterday. And it was supposed to be the best day ever.
"You never get a job after your first interview, Betsy."
"There will be other jobs, Betsy."
"It'll work out for the better, we just can't see it yet, Betsy."
I am lucky enough to have beautiful people in my life that can see the positive when I only see the negative. Everyone needs those people. I usually am one of those people. But not when it's my phone that doesn't ring.
My phone not ringing takes me back to a short thing that I wrote years ago. "I Know Why My Phone Doesn't Ring". It takes me back to my youthful woe-is-me phase.
I know it seems silly that I'm so upset about not getting this job. And I know that I said I wasn't expecting to get it. But I am and I was. I thought I had done it. Surpassed the whole starting from scratch thing that people have been telling me I'm probably going to have to do. And this only heightens the anger I have towards myself at screwing up that other perfectly good opportunity and greatens the embarrassement I feel, when I said that maybe screwing up the other job, that that was for the better after-all.
A learning experience I suppose. You can feel like you got the job, but it doesn't mean you did. I can't help but analyze my resume and every word spoken in the interview, finding my flaws that the not-so-potential employer did.
So my evening was disappointing. And why am I a self-proclaimed brat you ask? Because I let that ruin a great opportunity I had. Well sort-of.
****PLEASE DO NOT COPY AND PASTE ELSEWHERE****
I got to go to the WB Lot to visit a friend that is currently working on a show there. Sure it would be great to see her at work, but it was no secret that I had Gilmore on the brain.
I got on the lot, no problem. They had my name and gave me a little visitor pass that I immediately stuck in my pocket for safe-keeping. I got to set and she gave me a tour. They had just broken for lunch and she was going to give me a quick little tour before she had to go back. She had on all her equipment, so it was pretty clear she was working. Hence, we had no problems exploring otherwise not-so-visitor-friendly places. She first took me to the old Friends stage, which, since being torn down, offered little to no nostalgia. It was very cool though. Then we went to the stages of Gilmore. Only a few art department people were around and my friend entered without a second thought. I was glad she was assertive, as I kept wondering, "Are we supposed to be here?"
We looked around, seeing the Gilmore Mansion and Rory's apartment, filled with boxes labeled with stuff like "Clothes", "Books", and "Kitchen". My friend walked me towards where someone was working and I noticed he was painting a "Bon Voyage Rory" sign.
Anyway, we walked around some more and finally made our way to the back-lot. Again, my friend surprised me with her audacity, as people were everywhere setting stuff up for what seemed to be something taking place around, or maybe in, Luke's. It was here we saw Alexis Bledel. She ate her lunch alone, at a table by Luke's and seemed a little unhappy. I'm sure this was nothing more than just being tired at work, (as we've all experienced), and still having a long night in front of her. Other than a glance in her direction, we left her alone.
It was time for my friend to get back to set so she could practice the Steadicam. This is where, if anyone was on the tour yesterday, (Thursday, April 5), you may have seen me! Woo! A couple of tours stopped by us and my friend, who was wearing the Steadicam, demonstrated a little bit. Hello to anyone who might have stopped!
After she was called back in, I was left to my own devices. I watched them shoot a little bit, but then made my way back to the back lot. They had finished shooting at Luke's and were moving to what seemed to be either the Gilmore house or Sookie's house. There were lots of black tarps, as it wasn't dark yet, so I couldn't make out exactly what they were doing.
While on my bench, Lauren passed by on her bike, twice! I was trying be nonchalant, like I wasn't jumping up and down to catch a glimpse of her. I was text messaging, or pretending to, and looked up at her, smiling at her for a second pretending like I hadn't known it was her all along. Well, she looked a little uphappy as well. Same syndrome as Bledel probably. Her's also seemed to be a defense mechanism, as to ward off anyone from talking to her. It worked in my case. I got to see her again, so that was cool, but in my head, she was supposed to stop and talk to me, inviting me to come watch them shoot. Yeah, I know I'm demented. Honestly, I really just wanted her to smile or something. Because I had fantasized about my time on the lot so much, it was easy to be disappointed. But geez, all I got was a glare. (And yikes was it a glare! Daggers people. Daggers.) Yipee.
I was trying my best to stay out of the way, but I couldn't help but feel like everyone was looking at me, wondering who I was and what the hell I was doing invading their set. It made me feel pretty uncomfortable, but I held my ground, just hoping to be able to stick around long enough for the shot that they were setting up for next. There was going to be something happening in the town square. Lots of Christmas lights, thousands, and lights on the tops of all the buildings shining downwards. If I could just hold out a little longer!
By this time, it was clear I hadn't gotten aforementioned job, as I had been waiting for the phone call all evening. I was down about that, my head had holes from the daggers (as did my heart), and I couldn't help but be disappointed that in my other searchings of the lot, I hadn't run into Matthew Perry, thereby not being able to put my "asking for a light" plan into action.
"You wouldn't happen to have a light would you?"
"Sure do."
(He lights my cigarette.)
"Thanks. I'm Betsy."
"Hi Betsy. I'm Matt. You work here?"
"No, I'm just waiting for a friend to get off of work."
"Oh cool. Have you been having a nice time?"
"Yeah. I was watching them film Gilmore earlier, but felt I was in the way so I left."
"Oh I'm sure you weren't. Everyone's so busy and we're used to having visitors here. Are you a fan of the show?"
"Yeah, Gilmore is definitely one of my favorites."
(Here, he would proceed to tell me a funny story about him and Lauren, in which I would laugh and my little fan heart would explode.)
"So is Studio 60 coming back?"
"Yeah, for now. We'll see if it's got a second season in it."
"Well, I for one love the show and think it has a great future."
"Tell that to the damn studios." (In my head, the conversation would be a success if he curses at least once. I think celebrities cursing around you often mean they trust you. Or so I've come to believe.)
Etc, etc, etc.
Yeah, so that didn't happen. (Expectations people. They'll kill you.) And I was starving and self-conscious as a light was turned on that made my otherwise well-hidden bench, a direction of focus. I walked around a little more, seeing a few ER doctors and such, and passing by Lauren's "Star Waggon" in a random strike of luck. Not that I saw anyone there, but I recognized her bike. In my journeys, I went back to my friend's set, dropping off my bag, as to look like less of a visitor. Of course, I walked back to the back lot, still anticipating the scene in which I figured they'd be shooting next.
An hour or two went by, and I was feeling pretty bad at this point, seeing as the closest I had come to seeing them shoot was hearing them say, "Cut" and "Action", I hadn't gotten my job and would therefore have to ask my parents for some help, was hungry and tired, and had stood up one of my friends who had needed help with a casting session. I decided to cut my losses and leave.
Sure, had I stayed I would have seen more, but the way this day was going, I wouldn't have been able to see much. My head would have gotten in the light, casting a shadow over the entire square, during the print take, and the actors would all glare at me as they would have to redo their performance of a lifetime. That or, I probably would have been shooed away or caused a ruckus by passing out from hunger during a shot.
Luck apparently isn't always on my side, or it was time for it to run out at least. As I say this, I am reminded of the "brat" part of the title. I got to visit the set, which is awesome. I had free reign and saw both of the Gilmore girls. I know that the job thing is, and was, putting a damper on my spirits, but I can't help but be a little disappointed.
I felt bad when I said bye to my friend who have given me such a great opportunity. I was down and she noticed. I assured her it was the job thing, which rewarded me with a nice pep talk that I so desperately wanted to believe.
"One door closes...."
But it was a great time and opportunity, and I can't help but be so mad at myself for letting the job thing get to me so much! I should be estactic right now! Gilmore! Favorite show! Woo!
Go ahead...tell me how stupid I am. I know it's true. But expectations suck and I'm slowly learning to have less of them.
I hate going out on a bad note.
Woo! Gilmore!!
Someone in the blogosphere did not like what I wrote in my other blog. They refused to post it. In fact, they went to such great lengths to ensure my epic post would never be read, they disconnected my internet at the exact moment I was trying to post. Now I wonder if I should rewrite at all. Of course I will, or attempt to recreate my well-crafted post, but it hurts. I'm at a loss when I get the window that says so nonchalantly, "We're sorry, but we were unable to complete your request."
Oh yeah? Excuse me while I jump out of the window. Pressing "Back" did nothing as well, and didn't there used to be a "Recover" button somewhere? Well not anymore, you fine folks. Not anymore.
What do professionals do in such a humbling moment? Cry? Is it okay to cry and weep? Because I want to cry and weep. Is nausea normal?
Where did I begin before? Oh yeah, disappointment. Ironic, eh?
Disappointment. Well, I didn't get that job I had so badly wanted. Who cares if I thought I had nailed the interview. Obviously, they didn't. This was the event that threw off my day yesterday. And it was supposed to be the best day ever.
"You never get a job after your first interview, Betsy."
"There will be other jobs, Betsy."
"It'll work out for the better, we just can't see it yet, Betsy."
I am lucky enough to have beautiful people in my life that can see the positive when I only see the negative. Everyone needs those people. I usually am one of those people. But not when it's my phone that doesn't ring.
My phone not ringing takes me back to a short thing that I wrote years ago. "I Know Why My Phone Doesn't Ring". It takes me back to my youthful woe-is-me phase.
I know it seems silly that I'm so upset about not getting this job. And I know that I said I wasn't expecting to get it. But I am and I was. I thought I had done it. Surpassed the whole starting from scratch thing that people have been telling me I'm probably going to have to do. And this only heightens the anger I have towards myself at screwing up that other perfectly good opportunity and greatens the embarrassement I feel, when I said that maybe screwing up the other job, that that was for the better after-all.
A learning experience I suppose. You can feel like you got the job, but it doesn't mean you did. I can't help but analyze my resume and every word spoken in the interview, finding my flaws that the not-so-potential employer did.
So my evening was disappointing. And why am I a self-proclaimed brat you ask? Because I let that ruin a great opportunity I had. Well sort-of.
****PLEASE DO NOT COPY AND PASTE ELSEWHERE****
I got to go to the WB Lot to visit a friend that is currently working on a show there. Sure it would be great to see her at work, but it was no secret that I had Gilmore on the brain.
I got on the lot, no problem. They had my name and gave me a little visitor pass that I immediately stuck in my pocket for safe-keeping. I got to set and she gave me a tour. They had just broken for lunch and she was going to give me a quick little tour before she had to go back. She had on all her equipment, so it was pretty clear she was working. Hence, we had no problems exploring otherwise not-so-visitor-friendly places. She first took me to the old Friends stage, which, since being torn down, offered little to no nostalgia. It was very cool though. Then we went to the stages of Gilmore. Only a few art department people were around and my friend entered without a second thought. I was glad she was assertive, as I kept wondering, "Are we supposed to be here?"
We looked around, seeing the Gilmore Mansion and Rory's apartment, filled with boxes labeled with stuff like "Clothes", "Books", and "Kitchen". My friend walked me towards where someone was working and I noticed he was painting a "Bon Voyage Rory" sign.
Anyway, we walked around some more and finally made our way to the back-lot. Again, my friend surprised me with her audacity, as people were everywhere setting stuff up for what seemed to be something taking place around, or maybe in, Luke's. It was here we saw Alexis Bledel. She ate her lunch alone, at a table by Luke's and seemed a little unhappy. I'm sure this was nothing more than just being tired at work, (as we've all experienced), and still having a long night in front of her. Other than a glance in her direction, we left her alone.
It was time for my friend to get back to set so she could practice the Steadicam. This is where, if anyone was on the tour yesterday, (Thursday, April 5), you may have seen me! Woo! A couple of tours stopped by us and my friend, who was wearing the Steadicam, demonstrated a little bit. Hello to anyone who might have stopped!
After she was called back in, I was left to my own devices. I watched them shoot a little bit, but then made my way back to the back lot. They had finished shooting at Luke's and were moving to what seemed to be either the Gilmore house or Sookie's house. There were lots of black tarps, as it wasn't dark yet, so I couldn't make out exactly what they were doing.
While on my bench, Lauren passed by on her bike, twice! I was trying be nonchalant, like I wasn't jumping up and down to catch a glimpse of her. I was text messaging, or pretending to, and looked up at her, smiling at her for a second pretending like I hadn't known it was her all along. Well, she looked a little uphappy as well. Same syndrome as Bledel probably. Her's also seemed to be a defense mechanism, as to ward off anyone from talking to her. It worked in my case. I got to see her again, so that was cool, but in my head, she was supposed to stop and talk to me, inviting me to come watch them shoot. Yeah, I know I'm demented. Honestly, I really just wanted her to smile or something. Because I had fantasized about my time on the lot so much, it was easy to be disappointed. But geez, all I got was a glare. (And yikes was it a glare! Daggers people. Daggers.) Yipee.
I was trying my best to stay out of the way, but I couldn't help but feel like everyone was looking at me, wondering who I was and what the hell I was doing invading their set. It made me feel pretty uncomfortable, but I held my ground, just hoping to be able to stick around long enough for the shot that they were setting up for next. There was going to be something happening in the town square. Lots of Christmas lights, thousands, and lights on the tops of all the buildings shining downwards. If I could just hold out a little longer!
By this time, it was clear I hadn't gotten aforementioned job, as I had been waiting for the phone call all evening. I was down about that, my head had holes from the daggers (as did my heart), and I couldn't help but be disappointed that in my other searchings of the lot, I hadn't run into Matthew Perry, thereby not being able to put my "asking for a light" plan into action.
"You wouldn't happen to have a light would you?"
"Sure do."
(He lights my cigarette.)
"Thanks. I'm Betsy."
"Hi Betsy. I'm Matt. You work here?"
"No, I'm just waiting for a friend to get off of work."
"Oh cool. Have you been having a nice time?"
"Yeah. I was watching them film Gilmore earlier, but felt I was in the way so I left."
"Oh I'm sure you weren't. Everyone's so busy and we're used to having visitors here. Are you a fan of the show?"
"Yeah, Gilmore is definitely one of my favorites."
(Here, he would proceed to tell me a funny story about him and Lauren, in which I would laugh and my little fan heart would explode.)
"So is Studio 60 coming back?"
"Yeah, for now. We'll see if it's got a second season in it."
"Well, I for one love the show and think it has a great future."
"Tell that to the damn studios." (In my head, the conversation would be a success if he curses at least once. I think celebrities cursing around you often mean they trust you. Or so I've come to believe.)
Etc, etc, etc.
Yeah, so that didn't happen. (Expectations people. They'll kill you.) And I was starving and self-conscious as a light was turned on that made my otherwise well-hidden bench, a direction of focus. I walked around a little more, seeing a few ER doctors and such, and passing by Lauren's "Star Waggon" in a random strike of luck. Not that I saw anyone there, but I recognized her bike. In my journeys, I went back to my friend's set, dropping off my bag, as to look like less of a visitor. Of course, I walked back to the back lot, still anticipating the scene in which I figured they'd be shooting next.
An hour or two went by, and I was feeling pretty bad at this point, seeing as the closest I had come to seeing them shoot was hearing them say, "Cut" and "Action", I hadn't gotten my job and would therefore have to ask my parents for some help, was hungry and tired, and had stood up one of my friends who had needed help with a casting session. I decided to cut my losses and leave.
Sure, had I stayed I would have seen more, but the way this day was going, I wouldn't have been able to see much. My head would have gotten in the light, casting a shadow over the entire square, during the print take, and the actors would all glare at me as they would have to redo their performance of a lifetime. That or, I probably would have been shooed away or caused a ruckus by passing out from hunger during a shot.
Luck apparently isn't always on my side, or it was time for it to run out at least. As I say this, I am reminded of the "brat" part of the title. I got to visit the set, which is awesome. I had free reign and saw both of the Gilmore girls. I know that the job thing is, and was, putting a damper on my spirits, but I can't help but be a little disappointed.
I felt bad when I said bye to my friend who have given me such a great opportunity. I was down and she noticed. I assured her it was the job thing, which rewarded me with a nice pep talk that I so desperately wanted to believe.
"One door closes...."
But it was a great time and opportunity, and I can't help but be so mad at myself for letting the job thing get to me so much! I should be estactic right now! Gilmore! Favorite show! Woo!
Go ahead...tell me how stupid I am. I know it's true. But expectations suck and I'm slowly learning to have less of them.
I hate going out on a bad note.
Woo! Gilmore!!
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Since I've Lived In LA...
I arrived on the west coast roughly twelve days ago, Monday, March 19th. It is now the first of April, officially I guess, but it's the night of the 31st. I can't say the first week (plus) has been uneventful. In fact, I've seen and done and experienced more in these past few days than I ever expected I would. So officially, I've gone through every emotion possible. I've been horrified, exuberant, scared, confident, happy, uncomfortable, nervous, stupid. I've felt important, felt like a nobody, felt like I was out of place, felt like I was exactly in the right place.
++Mini Chapter 1: It's all fun and games until somebody gets SHOT++
That's right, shot. So here I was, loving LA, thinking it's heaven on earth. I felt comfortable here, conforted here. It felt like a vacation. And I'm riding around with one of the many crazy drivers that I've riden with since my arrival, and we are cruising down Sunset, after a horrific dinner mentioned in Mini Chapter 3. The dinner may have been bad, but the ride was great. Wind through my hair, a beautiful night. Being able to see the scenery instead of riding through a dark tunnel after waiting 30 minutes for a subway car that smells like urine. Oh, the difference a 3,000 mile drive makes.
Well, the important part of the story is that I was in a great place. I didn't know what people could possibly not like about this place. And then I see the flares. Traffic is stopped and cop cars are blocking our way through. I think to myself that that must be some nasty accident if they've blocked off three (give or take) blocks of Sunset, inarguably a main drag through Hollywood.
I turn to my friend and oh-so innocently ask, "You think it's an accident?"
He responds nonchalantly, "It looks like somebody got shot or something."
Shot?
This is when my mind tells me that, duh, I'm in LA, and that's when it registers. It's not all fun and palm trees and sand and famous people. People get shot here. Lots of people. And car-jacked and murdered. Shot. Guns everywhere. That guy there? On the corner? He's probably packing heat, and I visibly squirm in my seat. The rest of the night, when I'm forced to walk two dark, lonely blocks to my car, my shoes click Phoebe-style. Do-n't get shot, do-n't get shot.
And then icing on the cake, tonight, as I'm driving home from a social event, I get two blocks from my street and I see those damn flares again. No kidding. Right in front of my street. A cop blocks the road, and horrifically, I sigh at the annoyance of having to go residental streets the rest of the way home. (LA has hardened me already.)
I know what you are probably thinking. "Didn't you live in New York?" Shouldn't I already be hardened? Well no. That's not really the case. You see, New York is big in a different way than LA. You see where you walk, and that's about it. Above the ground, you don't end up covering very much ground. LA, you're all over the place in any given day. A lot more ground is covered and there's a much larger opportunity for you to see the evil around you. Also, NY looks like it's dangerous. On the filthy streets and people-packed avenues, something bad going down isn't all that surprising. But here, here where the streets are lined in palm trees and sweet tarts, you don't expect to see these things. But, I did. And apparently, subconsciously, already learned to not be surprised at the inconvience. I'll have to start factoring in shooting detours into my travel time.
++Mini Chapter 2: Celebrity Sightings++
That Paris Hilton girl sure gets around. In two consectutive nights, I've been stopped by a flashlight holding police officer, trying to stop traffic so Paris Hilton's car can pull out onto the road so the paparazzi can stop with the flashbulbs already. The first night was the best, as I was the first car stopped, (front row seats), as she jumped in her convertible, (that's a great way to avoid the cameras), and be-bopped in the front seat. My roommate's sister was in the car and had been talking about seeing Paris Hilton since she had arrived. (I guess I'll have to start factoring in being stopped my the paparazzi into my travel time as well. No wonder it takes so long to get places here!) And all this after...
...THE MOST AMAZING THING EVER. What is more amazing than seeing Paris Hilton be-bop in a convertible as she gets hundreds of photos taken of her? Me seeing my number one lady. Lauren freaking Graham, minus the freaking respectively. My number one. The number one. You know, the person who you hope you're going to see, but know that it won't happen for no other reason than you wanting it so badly. And she was the, count it, second famous person I saw. In my first week. And it was completely random. Is there such a thing as meant to be? Because if so, this experience told me that I was "meant to be" here. That's for sure. On with the story...
I'm sitting in a bar with some friends from college. We had planned this get together for Friday evening, but after a different, and unchangable party appeared on our schedule, we bumped it to Thursday night instead. Act of fate number one. Said Friday night party was cancelled, and though we toyed with changing it back to Friday, we decided that we'd stick with Thursday so the place wouldn't be so crowded. Act of fate number two. The place is not crowded at all. And I'm sitting in a booth. I choose the booth instead of the wall-facing wooden chairs because primarily, I was wearing low rise jeans and would be less likely to not show off my underwear by sitting against the wall. (Act of fate number three?) Sublime is on, and I remember this clearly because as Sublime is one of my favorites, I always make mental notes of bars that put them on their mixes. Ten times out of ten, I'll love the bar if this is the case. So I smile at the music, and a couple walks towards the back, where we are sitting. They walk past us, and this is when, I swear, things click into slow motion. Her face is clear to me. The profile, and she is laughing at something the unidentified man is saying, and her arm is in his, and she looks so different, and I swear that my jaw had to of been on the floor. Just so unexpected. I wasn't prepared. I stare. Just stare like I have no manners at all. She doesn't even glance at us, and I know this because I watch until she goes throught the doorway to the hall, and continue watching the doorway until I am snapped out of my slow-motion stupor by my friend who leans over excitedly, "Did you see that?"
I don't even know what to say. I'm stumped and I think I sit in silence for five whole minutes before I realize that I should say hello. This is usually a move I don't like to make, talking to a celebrity while they are trying to lead a normal life, but I had to make an exception here. The Laws of the Universe say that I wasn't supposed to see her. She's my number freaking one. How did this happen, to me, the most unlucky, "you just missed the coolest thing ever", person in this world? It would never happen again. Lightning doesn't strike twice. So I should say hey. For the universe. But as I go to stand, I can't balance because I'm still so shocked. I finally stand and walk towards the hallway she went down, towards the bathroom and valet parking. I go to the bathroom, take a deep breath, and enter. Empty. Damn. I walk the rest of the hallway, and nothing. A few doors for either secret celebrity hang-outs or the much more likely, janitor closets. And then the back door. I pick up my pace and open the door, thankful no one was one the other side as they probably could sue me for a broken nose. It swings open to no one. Nothing. A parking lot with a lonely valet man bouncing a ball up and down and up and down. She had gotten away. It didn't wipe the smile from my face though. I didn't care. I had seen her. In real life. She did exist. And she was happy and seemed so carefree and I had seen her in my first week of living here.
Pure unadulterated exhilaration.
And then there was also that Sharon Osbourne thing too!
++Mini Chapter 3: It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it.++
How do you rationalize going out a lot while you're unemployed and broke? Networking. Yes. It is a hard job, but a very necessary one. So socially, I've had an exciting time. Meeting people, and going to my friend's sets, and bars and clubs and such.
Last night we actually went to a LA strip club. Yes, a strip club where ladies dance for the money. A bikini one sort of, I guess. No one got completely stripped down anyway. I thought it was a joke when my friend pulled in, and maybe it was, but we went. And I got to sit across from a guy who, had I seen him on the street, I'd have been very attracted to. I watched his face in horror as he watched these girls. These girls shaking their butts directly in his face while he drooled. Literally drooled. And then I felt bad for being the girl in the strip club who was there watching people who were there to watch, so I stopped looking the guys, and focused my attention on the girls. Their shoes mainly, because there's nothing more uncomfortable than trying not to be disrespectful by not looking at a person's, ahem, money-maker. If that makes sense. It's like, you're supposed to be watching them dance, and you don't want to avoid the whole stage because that is rude in this weird way I can't explain, but really, it's nothing too interesting to look at. Not to mention I feel bad googling, or I feel like I'm googling by looking at all. And I just hope that they like what they do and don't do it to feed their kids or something. So I focused on the boots. The tall, ridiculous boots. And some of the dance moves that they used. Just a strange thing.
One girl really impressed me when she climbed the pole to the ceiling. It was pretty impressive and I had to give her props! That had to be difficult. And she has to look graceful too. I can't do a pull-up with a smile. Must less, climb a pole in six inch heels, doing it so it appears that you are a graceful and gentle creature, still smiling at the people below. No grimace. Nothing. When this dancer was done with her routine, someone snuck out of the shadows and threw what had to have been one hundred single dollar bills onto the stage. At first, I was like, good for her. Then she started picking up her money and I got sad. (Sad at a strip club. Only a woman.) She was crawling. The purpose of the dollars is so the person can get a peep show as she picks up the money he throws at her. It felt so primordial to me. These guys being like "here's my money, now pick it up woman. And oh yeah, it's in ones so have fun with that. I'll just watch." I hated that.
After that uncomfortable experience, we decided to try and get into a roped off club near Sunset. It's three of us girls and one guy. He walks up to one of the ropes and slyly says to the guy, "I've got three women with me." Amazingly, he tells us to wait at the side as people stand in this line, waiting to get in. Then he opens the rope for us and we get to go right in. Awesome.
Tonight I was invited to a "house party in the hills" where there was sure to be "hundreds of people". I go to my friends apartment, and she says that it will be impossible for me to find parking and to just put on my flashers and E brake, because this hill was more like a vertical mountain, and to come up and hang out. I had never seen such a large hill before in my life. We never had stuff like this in good ol' NC or NY.
When we go to the party, parking is ridiculous. There's one spot on the hill that is probably the exact length of my car, give a couple of inches. Now I have a new car so I'm not so great a judging it yet. And this spot was on a hill, (going up), and a curve. So this is not an easy parking spot. It's very apparent why it's still open. My friends insist I can do it. So with the assistance of a bear, (or my friend in a bear costume), I inch my way in, trying only twice before successfully, (yes successfully), getting into the spot. Without as much as tapping the other cars. I was impressed myself. They crowned me and we went to the party. Which was huge, but nothing to write home about. (The parking was much more interesting.) Although, I did see a guy I had gone to school with and when I asked him what he was doing now, he shuffled his feet and mumbled something. "What?" I ask. "I'm in the paparazzi." I laugh so hard, I get light-headed. Paparazzi??? I knew a guy in the paparazzi? I tell him I kinda hate his people. And he's so ashamed, but defends it by saying he only has to do it for a couple of months to load up on some money. These guys make BANK. In fact, when he tells me how much he is making, it silences my laughs and I consider if I could run fast enough while successfully working a camera.
Also, last week my friend was working on a show and invited me to have lunch with her. Who was I to say no to an offer like that! I get onto the studio no problem but then I don't know where to park. I look around and all the spots seem to be numbered. So I park in one of these spots and make my way to a security guard. I ask him where I should park and he points down to a spot with a smile. "Go between those two cars and that way you'll be exactly where you need to be." I thank him and return to my car. As I approach the spot, I see that all of these spots have names on them. The one he had directed me to said, "WB Ranch VIP Parking". Hells yes! (There's always something nice about being called a VIP.) People walking by mistake me for someone important. I smile confidently and get out of my car.
When I get to set my friend starts introducing me to people. She introduces me to one guy who is a director. We start talking and joking around. They seem to get along very well, talking about mixed cds and such, and I chime in with telling him his shirt is, "very LA". He laughs and welcomes me to LA. As he walks away, his name swirls in my head and I wonder where I had heard it before. Then it hits me that he was the director for the Veronica Mars pilot! Awesome! I had just made the director of the VM pilot laugh. Extremely cool. What was up with me having such good luck here?
++Mini Chapter 4: Now if only that luck could come through for me getting a job.++
I made the mistake that every single "getting a job" seminar warns you not to make. I got too cocky and ruined my chances at a job before I even had it. (Or so I think.) You're at least supposed to do the interview first! People started telling me I should forego assisting and go straight for the editing jobs since I was an editor in NY. I'm young and typically people my age get the assistant jobs. But I'm applying for everything, as I just wanted to see what I could get. Within a day of my job searching I hear back for an assistant job on reality tv, (something I would rather avoid, but it seems inevitable.) Through email, I try to keep him interested while I wait and see if I hear back from any of the other gigs. And then he calls...
My phone shows a LA number that I don't recognize so immediately, I answer. It's the reality guy. He asks me if I'm interested and I assure him I am. He asks what kind of job I'm looking for, and I hmm and haw stupidly saying that I don't know yet. He asks if I'm looking for an editing gig or assistant one. Again, like a fool, I say I'm waiting to see what's out there. Somehow sounding like I'm passing on this job. I tell him I've been here only for a day so I'm just testing the waters. Doh! He says he'll get back to me if anything comes up, and thereby probably removing me from the running for this particular job. I try not to beat myself up too much, that is until I get a call from my friend who says she had just gotten an assistant job on a reality tv show and is looking for night assistants. We chat and as it turns out, her boss, and the guy who would effectively hire me to be HER assistant, is the one I spoke on the phone with. Yes, small stupid world indeed. I hear the pay, and the fact that I'd be working with my friends, and want it. Need it. It would pay the bills and every other lead I had gotten, turned up dry.
I tried to back petal in my email to him, cursing myself that now I was begging for a lower position, (figuring he had probably been wanting me for the position my friend got-a day position with better pay). Yikes. These things do come back to haunt you. Still waiting to hear about that one...
++Mini Chapter 5: Driving++
Oh driving in LA has been interesting. My first trip to the freeway, after my cross-country trip of course, landed me lost in the middle of somewhere. Trying to make it to Burbank, I finally give up after thirty minutes of not finding the 101. I call my friend with my tail between my legs, and find my way there. On the way back, I have no problems, which is impressive only because it was rush hour, I had no map, and my second destination was somewhere else I had never been. Some how, some way, I get there rather quickly. Only after seeing one car accident happen, (a woman rear-ending a not so pleased man because a car pulls out in front of her, causing her to have to slam on brakes.)
I also tried to venture into Beverly Hills one afternoon, getting there fine, but when I tried to return home, I ended up in Santa Monica. I got the feeling I had gone the very wrong way.
I've been riding with my roommate, who has lived in LA for almost two years now, and effectively said my Hail Mary's about seventeen times. (She wasn't even that great of a driver in NC, and this is self-proclaimed.) Hail Mary's also came into play when another of my crazy-driving friends decides one night to take me on Muholland. Muholland, if you don't know, cuts across the top of the mountain. Beautiful, gut-wrentching views. I felt like every turn should have been labeled, "Dead Man's curve". I saw my death like five times on that trip.
A couple nights ago, we saw a freshly-hit fire hydrant. With water shooting so far into the sky, I couldn't really even tell where it stopped. The street was flooding so fast, you would think that it had been raining in LA for weeks. Which was obviously not the case, as I had witnesses LA burning to the ground earlier in the day...(nice segue-way Thompson).
++Mini (and last) Chapter 6: Why do I get the feeling this is going to be blamed on me?++
We're driving back from Ikea on a highway with a clear view of the hills. I see a billowing smoke cloud and show the others. It's huge. Freaking unbelievably huge. Never in my life had I seen a smoke cloud this big. My friend calls her boyfriend who works near where the fire appeared to be coming from. She asked him what was on fire, and I braced myself for the inevitable "the terrorists bombed LA" response that I just knew was coming. He seemed confused and then she could hear the whole office realize something near them was on fire. He went to his roof and said that it was in the hills, and was heading towards the WB lot and Universal! Not to mention the Hollywood sign! Both lots had been evacuated, and my heart dropped as I pictured Luke's Diner going up in flames. I was so sad! It couldn't be! He then reported that it was heading towards the Hollywood sign, and I just knew that this was it. LA was going to burn to the ground.
Seeing a fire that huge is so unsettling. I was terrified, as I've never witnessed such a thing in my life. I was assured we lived far from it, but my mind was just racing with terror that it was going to burn up the GIlmore sets. Not even to mention the obvious, possibly killing hundreds and ruining homes by the second.
We race home, in some of the worst traffic ever, (as people were obviously trying to get home ASAP), and turn on the news. I felt a huge wave of relief as I heard that it was under control and the Hollywood sign, nor either of the two studios, were damaged. Whew.
So to recap this lengthy post I hope you made it through, since I've lived in LA I've, seen my number one celebrity, Lauren Graham, gone to a strip club, seen two different (possible) shootings, saw one of the largest fires I've ever seen, witnessed the possible demise of the Hollywood sign, gone to a large house party in the hills, illegally parked, seen a fire hydrant shooting water towards the sky, gotten lost twice, seen a car accident happen, seen three car accidents after they happened, felt like I was about to get in a car accident, been allowed access into a roped club while others waited in line, seen Paris Hilton twice being followed by paparazzi, talked to a guy who's in the paparazzi, parked vertically on a large hill, did the tightest parallel parking I've ever done, probably ruined a pretty good job opportunity, got VIP parking on set, and met the director of the pilot of Veronica Mars.
Not too bad for my first week (plus). I think I'm ready for my membership card now!
++Mini Chapter 1: It's all fun and games until somebody gets SHOT++
That's right, shot. So here I was, loving LA, thinking it's heaven on earth. I felt comfortable here, conforted here. It felt like a vacation. And I'm riding around with one of the many crazy drivers that I've riden with since my arrival, and we are cruising down Sunset, after a horrific dinner mentioned in Mini Chapter 3. The dinner may have been bad, but the ride was great. Wind through my hair, a beautiful night. Being able to see the scenery instead of riding through a dark tunnel after waiting 30 minutes for a subway car that smells like urine. Oh, the difference a 3,000 mile drive makes.
Well, the important part of the story is that I was in a great place. I didn't know what people could possibly not like about this place. And then I see the flares. Traffic is stopped and cop cars are blocking our way through. I think to myself that that must be some nasty accident if they've blocked off three (give or take) blocks of Sunset, inarguably a main drag through Hollywood.
I turn to my friend and oh-so innocently ask, "You think it's an accident?"
He responds nonchalantly, "It looks like somebody got shot or something."
Shot?
This is when my mind tells me that, duh, I'm in LA, and that's when it registers. It's not all fun and palm trees and sand and famous people. People get shot here. Lots of people. And car-jacked and murdered. Shot. Guns everywhere. That guy there? On the corner? He's probably packing heat, and I visibly squirm in my seat. The rest of the night, when I'm forced to walk two dark, lonely blocks to my car, my shoes click Phoebe-style. Do-n't get shot, do-n't get shot.
And then icing on the cake, tonight, as I'm driving home from a social event, I get two blocks from my street and I see those damn flares again. No kidding. Right in front of my street. A cop blocks the road, and horrifically, I sigh at the annoyance of having to go residental streets the rest of the way home. (LA has hardened me already.)
I know what you are probably thinking. "Didn't you live in New York?" Shouldn't I already be hardened? Well no. That's not really the case. You see, New York is big in a different way than LA. You see where you walk, and that's about it. Above the ground, you don't end up covering very much ground. LA, you're all over the place in any given day. A lot more ground is covered and there's a much larger opportunity for you to see the evil around you. Also, NY looks like it's dangerous. On the filthy streets and people-packed avenues, something bad going down isn't all that surprising. But here, here where the streets are lined in palm trees and sweet tarts, you don't expect to see these things. But, I did. And apparently, subconsciously, already learned to not be surprised at the inconvience. I'll have to start factoring in shooting detours into my travel time.
++Mini Chapter 2: Celebrity Sightings++
That Paris Hilton girl sure gets around. In two consectutive nights, I've been stopped by a flashlight holding police officer, trying to stop traffic so Paris Hilton's car can pull out onto the road so the paparazzi can stop with the flashbulbs already. The first night was the best, as I was the first car stopped, (front row seats), as she jumped in her convertible, (that's a great way to avoid the cameras), and be-bopped in the front seat. My roommate's sister was in the car and had been talking about seeing Paris Hilton since she had arrived. (I guess I'll have to start factoring in being stopped my the paparazzi into my travel time as well. No wonder it takes so long to get places here!) And all this after...
...THE MOST AMAZING THING EVER. What is more amazing than seeing Paris Hilton be-bop in a convertible as she gets hundreds of photos taken of her? Me seeing my number one lady. Lauren freaking Graham, minus the freaking respectively. My number one. The number one. You know, the person who you hope you're going to see, but know that it won't happen for no other reason than you wanting it so badly. And she was the, count it, second famous person I saw. In my first week. And it was completely random. Is there such a thing as meant to be? Because if so, this experience told me that I was "meant to be" here. That's for sure. On with the story...
I'm sitting in a bar with some friends from college. We had planned this get together for Friday evening, but after a different, and unchangable party appeared on our schedule, we bumped it to Thursday night instead. Act of fate number one. Said Friday night party was cancelled, and though we toyed with changing it back to Friday, we decided that we'd stick with Thursday so the place wouldn't be so crowded. Act of fate number two. The place is not crowded at all. And I'm sitting in a booth. I choose the booth instead of the wall-facing wooden chairs because primarily, I was wearing low rise jeans and would be less likely to not show off my underwear by sitting against the wall. (Act of fate number three?) Sublime is on, and I remember this clearly because as Sublime is one of my favorites, I always make mental notes of bars that put them on their mixes. Ten times out of ten, I'll love the bar if this is the case. So I smile at the music, and a couple walks towards the back, where we are sitting. They walk past us, and this is when, I swear, things click into slow motion. Her face is clear to me. The profile, and she is laughing at something the unidentified man is saying, and her arm is in his, and she looks so different, and I swear that my jaw had to of been on the floor. Just so unexpected. I wasn't prepared. I stare. Just stare like I have no manners at all. She doesn't even glance at us, and I know this because I watch until she goes throught the doorway to the hall, and continue watching the doorway until I am snapped out of my slow-motion stupor by my friend who leans over excitedly, "Did you see that?"
I don't even know what to say. I'm stumped and I think I sit in silence for five whole minutes before I realize that I should say hello. This is usually a move I don't like to make, talking to a celebrity while they are trying to lead a normal life, but I had to make an exception here. The Laws of the Universe say that I wasn't supposed to see her. She's my number freaking one. How did this happen, to me, the most unlucky, "you just missed the coolest thing ever", person in this world? It would never happen again. Lightning doesn't strike twice. So I should say hey. For the universe. But as I go to stand, I can't balance because I'm still so shocked. I finally stand and walk towards the hallway she went down, towards the bathroom and valet parking. I go to the bathroom, take a deep breath, and enter. Empty. Damn. I walk the rest of the hallway, and nothing. A few doors for either secret celebrity hang-outs or the much more likely, janitor closets. And then the back door. I pick up my pace and open the door, thankful no one was one the other side as they probably could sue me for a broken nose. It swings open to no one. Nothing. A parking lot with a lonely valet man bouncing a ball up and down and up and down. She had gotten away. It didn't wipe the smile from my face though. I didn't care. I had seen her. In real life. She did exist. And she was happy and seemed so carefree and I had seen her in my first week of living here.
Pure unadulterated exhilaration.
And then there was also that Sharon Osbourne thing too!
++Mini Chapter 3: It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it.++
How do you rationalize going out a lot while you're unemployed and broke? Networking. Yes. It is a hard job, but a very necessary one. So socially, I've had an exciting time. Meeting people, and going to my friend's sets, and bars and clubs and such.
Last night we actually went to a LA strip club. Yes, a strip club where ladies dance for the money. A bikini one sort of, I guess. No one got completely stripped down anyway. I thought it was a joke when my friend pulled in, and maybe it was, but we went. And I got to sit across from a guy who, had I seen him on the street, I'd have been very attracted to. I watched his face in horror as he watched these girls. These girls shaking their butts directly in his face while he drooled. Literally drooled. And then I felt bad for being the girl in the strip club who was there watching people who were there to watch, so I stopped looking the guys, and focused my attention on the girls. Their shoes mainly, because there's nothing more uncomfortable than trying not to be disrespectful by not looking at a person's, ahem, money-maker. If that makes sense. It's like, you're supposed to be watching them dance, and you don't want to avoid the whole stage because that is rude in this weird way I can't explain, but really, it's nothing too interesting to look at. Not to mention I feel bad googling, or I feel like I'm googling by looking at all. And I just hope that they like what they do and don't do it to feed their kids or something. So I focused on the boots. The tall, ridiculous boots. And some of the dance moves that they used. Just a strange thing.
One girl really impressed me when she climbed the pole to the ceiling. It was pretty impressive and I had to give her props! That had to be difficult. And she has to look graceful too. I can't do a pull-up with a smile. Must less, climb a pole in six inch heels, doing it so it appears that you are a graceful and gentle creature, still smiling at the people below. No grimace. Nothing. When this dancer was done with her routine, someone snuck out of the shadows and threw what had to have been one hundred single dollar bills onto the stage. At first, I was like, good for her. Then she started picking up her money and I got sad. (Sad at a strip club. Only a woman.) She was crawling. The purpose of the dollars is so the person can get a peep show as she picks up the money he throws at her. It felt so primordial to me. These guys being like "here's my money, now pick it up woman. And oh yeah, it's in ones so have fun with that. I'll just watch." I hated that.
After that uncomfortable experience, we decided to try and get into a roped off club near Sunset. It's three of us girls and one guy. He walks up to one of the ropes and slyly says to the guy, "I've got three women with me." Amazingly, he tells us to wait at the side as people stand in this line, waiting to get in. Then he opens the rope for us and we get to go right in. Awesome.
Tonight I was invited to a "house party in the hills" where there was sure to be "hundreds of people". I go to my friends apartment, and she says that it will be impossible for me to find parking and to just put on my flashers and E brake, because this hill was more like a vertical mountain, and to come up and hang out. I had never seen such a large hill before in my life. We never had stuff like this in good ol' NC or NY.
When we go to the party, parking is ridiculous. There's one spot on the hill that is probably the exact length of my car, give a couple of inches. Now I have a new car so I'm not so great a judging it yet. And this spot was on a hill, (going up), and a curve. So this is not an easy parking spot. It's very apparent why it's still open. My friends insist I can do it. So with the assistance of a bear, (or my friend in a bear costume), I inch my way in, trying only twice before successfully, (yes successfully), getting into the spot. Without as much as tapping the other cars. I was impressed myself. They crowned me and we went to the party. Which was huge, but nothing to write home about. (The parking was much more interesting.) Although, I did see a guy I had gone to school with and when I asked him what he was doing now, he shuffled his feet and mumbled something. "What?" I ask. "I'm in the paparazzi." I laugh so hard, I get light-headed. Paparazzi??? I knew a guy in the paparazzi? I tell him I kinda hate his people. And he's so ashamed, but defends it by saying he only has to do it for a couple of months to load up on some money. These guys make BANK. In fact, when he tells me how much he is making, it silences my laughs and I consider if I could run fast enough while successfully working a camera.
Also, last week my friend was working on a show and invited me to have lunch with her. Who was I to say no to an offer like that! I get onto the studio no problem but then I don't know where to park. I look around and all the spots seem to be numbered. So I park in one of these spots and make my way to a security guard. I ask him where I should park and he points down to a spot with a smile. "Go between those two cars and that way you'll be exactly where you need to be." I thank him and return to my car. As I approach the spot, I see that all of these spots have names on them. The one he had directed me to said, "WB Ranch VIP Parking". Hells yes! (There's always something nice about being called a VIP.) People walking by mistake me for someone important. I smile confidently and get out of my car.
When I get to set my friend starts introducing me to people. She introduces me to one guy who is a director. We start talking and joking around. They seem to get along very well, talking about mixed cds and such, and I chime in with telling him his shirt is, "very LA". He laughs and welcomes me to LA. As he walks away, his name swirls in my head and I wonder where I had heard it before. Then it hits me that he was the director for the Veronica Mars pilot! Awesome! I had just made the director of the VM pilot laugh. Extremely cool. What was up with me having such good luck here?
++Mini Chapter 4: Now if only that luck could come through for me getting a job.++
I made the mistake that every single "getting a job" seminar warns you not to make. I got too cocky and ruined my chances at a job before I even had it. (Or so I think.) You're at least supposed to do the interview first! People started telling me I should forego assisting and go straight for the editing jobs since I was an editor in NY. I'm young and typically people my age get the assistant jobs. But I'm applying for everything, as I just wanted to see what I could get. Within a day of my job searching I hear back for an assistant job on reality tv, (something I would rather avoid, but it seems inevitable.) Through email, I try to keep him interested while I wait and see if I hear back from any of the other gigs. And then he calls...
My phone shows a LA number that I don't recognize so immediately, I answer. It's the reality guy. He asks me if I'm interested and I assure him I am. He asks what kind of job I'm looking for, and I hmm and haw stupidly saying that I don't know yet. He asks if I'm looking for an editing gig or assistant one. Again, like a fool, I say I'm waiting to see what's out there. Somehow sounding like I'm passing on this job. I tell him I've been here only for a day so I'm just testing the waters. Doh! He says he'll get back to me if anything comes up, and thereby probably removing me from the running for this particular job. I try not to beat myself up too much, that is until I get a call from my friend who says she had just gotten an assistant job on a reality tv show and is looking for night assistants. We chat and as it turns out, her boss, and the guy who would effectively hire me to be HER assistant, is the one I spoke on the phone with. Yes, small stupid world indeed. I hear the pay, and the fact that I'd be working with my friends, and want it. Need it. It would pay the bills and every other lead I had gotten, turned up dry.
I tried to back petal in my email to him, cursing myself that now I was begging for a lower position, (figuring he had probably been wanting me for the position my friend got-a day position with better pay). Yikes. These things do come back to haunt you. Still waiting to hear about that one...
++Mini Chapter 5: Driving++
Oh driving in LA has been interesting. My first trip to the freeway, after my cross-country trip of course, landed me lost in the middle of somewhere. Trying to make it to Burbank, I finally give up after thirty minutes of not finding the 101. I call my friend with my tail between my legs, and find my way there. On the way back, I have no problems, which is impressive only because it was rush hour, I had no map, and my second destination was somewhere else I had never been. Some how, some way, I get there rather quickly. Only after seeing one car accident happen, (a woman rear-ending a not so pleased man because a car pulls out in front of her, causing her to have to slam on brakes.)
I also tried to venture into Beverly Hills one afternoon, getting there fine, but when I tried to return home, I ended up in Santa Monica. I got the feeling I had gone the very wrong way.
I've been riding with my roommate, who has lived in LA for almost two years now, and effectively said my Hail Mary's about seventeen times. (She wasn't even that great of a driver in NC, and this is self-proclaimed.) Hail Mary's also came into play when another of my crazy-driving friends decides one night to take me on Muholland. Muholland, if you don't know, cuts across the top of the mountain. Beautiful, gut-wrentching views. I felt like every turn should have been labeled, "Dead Man's curve". I saw my death like five times on that trip.
A couple nights ago, we saw a freshly-hit fire hydrant. With water shooting so far into the sky, I couldn't really even tell where it stopped. The street was flooding so fast, you would think that it had been raining in LA for weeks. Which was obviously not the case, as I had witnesses LA burning to the ground earlier in the day...(nice segue-way Thompson).
++Mini (and last) Chapter 6: Why do I get the feeling this is going to be blamed on me?++
We're driving back from Ikea on a highway with a clear view of the hills. I see a billowing smoke cloud and show the others. It's huge. Freaking unbelievably huge. Never in my life had I seen a smoke cloud this big. My friend calls her boyfriend who works near where the fire appeared to be coming from. She asked him what was on fire, and I braced myself for the inevitable "the terrorists bombed LA" response that I just knew was coming. He seemed confused and then she could hear the whole office realize something near them was on fire. He went to his roof and said that it was in the hills, and was heading towards the WB lot and Universal! Not to mention the Hollywood sign! Both lots had been evacuated, and my heart dropped as I pictured Luke's Diner going up in flames. I was so sad! It couldn't be! He then reported that it was heading towards the Hollywood sign, and I just knew that this was it. LA was going to burn to the ground.
Seeing a fire that huge is so unsettling. I was terrified, as I've never witnessed such a thing in my life. I was assured we lived far from it, but my mind was just racing with terror that it was going to burn up the GIlmore sets. Not even to mention the obvious, possibly killing hundreds and ruining homes by the second.
We race home, in some of the worst traffic ever, (as people were obviously trying to get home ASAP), and turn on the news. I felt a huge wave of relief as I heard that it was under control and the Hollywood sign, nor either of the two studios, were damaged. Whew.
So to recap this lengthy post I hope you made it through, since I've lived in LA I've, seen my number one celebrity, Lauren Graham, gone to a strip club, seen two different (possible) shootings, saw one of the largest fires I've ever seen, witnessed the possible demise of the Hollywood sign, gone to a large house party in the hills, illegally parked, seen a fire hydrant shooting water towards the sky, gotten lost twice, seen a car accident happen, seen three car accidents after they happened, felt like I was about to get in a car accident, been allowed access into a roped club while others waited in line, seen Paris Hilton twice being followed by paparazzi, talked to a guy who's in the paparazzi, parked vertically on a large hill, did the tightest parallel parking I've ever done, probably ruined a pretty good job opportunity, got VIP parking on set, and met the director of the pilot of Veronica Mars.
Not too bad for my first week (plus). I think I'm ready for my membership card now!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Yes, Excuse Me, I'm Very Important
There's some great feeling that comes with being important. Or people thinking you are, anyway. (Hey, it's the next best thing, right?)
Here I am, sitting across from a the real life version of Michel from Gilmore girls, in a building lobby of Beverly Hills, typing on my laptop as I open the door for people and check their names off of a list. I'm the mysterious person who looks important. My roommate is producing a movie, that hired me as the editor today, (woo?). They needed someone to let these actors in that are coming to audition for the part. It's not that I'm not being friendly, I am. It's just I have internet access and am bored out of my mind, so when I barely look at them, it's not because I'm being snotty, it's because I'm playing an intense game of Sudoku or reading some stories, or hey, writing a blog.
Now when these actors walk in, they look around like they are unsure of what to do next. That's when I speak up. I make sure they look at least a little confused before I do so, just to ensure they don't actually work in the building or something. When I ask them if they are here for the audition, they smile warmly towards me and gravitate my way.
Now, I believe in humanity for the most part. I'm sure that many of these people truly are interested in my day and hope that I'm doing well. But after while, all the niceness had me thinking. These people must think I'm powerful. They must think that I'm going to have some sort of say in their casting. Yesterday, I had multiple laughs at my not-so-funny jokes and one man called me a goddess for waving a piece of paper in front of a motion detector that would open the door for him to enter. Also for this motion, I was compared to the Fonze. For waving a piece of paper. (Let it be known I have stopped even looking at the door as I do this, let alone actually opening it for them.)
Maybe they feed off of each other. One person is nice, and everyone miscontrues it as me being very important. I've never had so many doors opened for me in my life. Some guy just gave me a rose. A rose.
So I'm not complaining here. I like feeling important. I don't mind that these people think I'm someone I'm not. Yes, I ask them their names, but I certainly am not marking down points for how many times they make me feel like a princess. Little do they know, I'm not all that important and will probably have nothing to do with the casting. For the better as it seems. ("He'd be perfect!" "Really? Why?" "Well he gave me a rose so....")
And then this woman walks in and I swear it's Sharon Osbourne. But I can't tell for sure and don't want to stare. And then she comes back and I look again. Still unsure, I decide that it had to of been her. It is only when this Michel wanna-be asks me if that was Sharon Osbourne do I feel like, yes, I saw my first celebrity in Los Angeles. He then mumbled something about her having an office here and I figure it had to be her! Woo! My first celebrity sighting and she was so nice! Or well, she smiled at me.
This casting thing has been an interesting experience. Just watching how the actors size each other up subtly. Looking at their competition. No one has even spoken to each other, this only being especially awkward early in the evening when the first four were told to wait in the lobby with me while they finished setting up. With two chairs and not a lot of room, it was quite a relief to finally get that phone call that said, "Send 'em up!"
Well I'm back to looking important. Only a little longer of this treatment and then I'm back to being unimportant minion walking the street.
Here I am, sitting across from a the real life version of Michel from Gilmore girls, in a building lobby of Beverly Hills, typing on my laptop as I open the door for people and check their names off of a list. I'm the mysterious person who looks important. My roommate is producing a movie, that hired me as the editor today, (woo?). They needed someone to let these actors in that are coming to audition for the part. It's not that I'm not being friendly, I am. It's just I have internet access and am bored out of my mind, so when I barely look at them, it's not because I'm being snotty, it's because I'm playing an intense game of Sudoku or reading some stories, or hey, writing a blog.
Now when these actors walk in, they look around like they are unsure of what to do next. That's when I speak up. I make sure they look at least a little confused before I do so, just to ensure they don't actually work in the building or something. When I ask them if they are here for the audition, they smile warmly towards me and gravitate my way.
Now, I believe in humanity for the most part. I'm sure that many of these people truly are interested in my day and hope that I'm doing well. But after while, all the niceness had me thinking. These people must think I'm powerful. They must think that I'm going to have some sort of say in their casting. Yesterday, I had multiple laughs at my not-so-funny jokes and one man called me a goddess for waving a piece of paper in front of a motion detector that would open the door for him to enter. Also for this motion, I was compared to the Fonze. For waving a piece of paper. (Let it be known I have stopped even looking at the door as I do this, let alone actually opening it for them.)
Maybe they feed off of each other. One person is nice, and everyone miscontrues it as me being very important. I've never had so many doors opened for me in my life. Some guy just gave me a rose. A rose.
So I'm not complaining here. I like feeling important. I don't mind that these people think I'm someone I'm not. Yes, I ask them their names, but I certainly am not marking down points for how many times they make me feel like a princess. Little do they know, I'm not all that important and will probably have nothing to do with the casting. For the better as it seems. ("He'd be perfect!" "Really? Why?" "Well he gave me a rose so....")
And then this woman walks in and I swear it's Sharon Osbourne. But I can't tell for sure and don't want to stare. And then she comes back and I look again. Still unsure, I decide that it had to of been her. It is only when this Michel wanna-be asks me if that was Sharon Osbourne do I feel like, yes, I saw my first celebrity in Los Angeles. He then mumbled something about her having an office here and I figure it had to be her! Woo! My first celebrity sighting and she was so nice! Or well, she smiled at me.
This casting thing has been an interesting experience. Just watching how the actors size each other up subtly. Looking at their competition. No one has even spoken to each other, this only being especially awkward early in the evening when the first four were told to wait in the lobby with me while they finished setting up. With two chairs and not a lot of room, it was quite a relief to finally get that phone call that said, "Send 'em up!"
Well I'm back to looking important. Only a little longer of this treatment and then I'm back to being unimportant minion walking the street.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Some Thompson's Suck!
While most of the Thompson's I know are quite amazing, beautiful, intelligent, extraordinary, etc, etc, :) , some, apparently aren't so great. I mean, I should have gotten this watching Kenan and Kel when I was younger. Huh, you'd think! My intention of this post was not to rant about how much I dislike Kenan Thompson, or his comedic style I should say. (Maybe he's a nice person with no taste, judgement, or self-awareness?) No. I'd rather turn my attention to another 'Thompson' that seems to be wreaking havoc in the world. Ahh, yes. This Thompson doesn't know the great responsibility of the Thompson name. People like Emma Thompson, oh yes, they get it.
So a friend of mine, Sally*, has recently been put into a situation where she is working very closely to said traitor of The Thompson name. Let me give you a play by play of conversation as it was related to me:
"Hi Sally, thanks for coming."
"No problem. It's a great party."
"Thanks." A fake laugh and a disapproving, (disgusted?) glance towards Sally's hair, "Wow, your hair is like tons of different colors."
Sally self-consciously puts hand to hair trying to remember if she had any buckets of paint dropped on her in the last few minutes. Nope. All clear, just her usual brown hair. Sally tries to make a joke, "What is it like green and purple?"
A snort, and a snobby remark is her reply, "What did you run out of money when you were getting your hair dyed?"
Excuse me! Sally's hair is brown/almost a dirty blond, but by no means does she have anything extraordianary like dark roots or blond tips. Not even to mention that Sally is the nicest person ever. She's one of those people who just radiate happiness!
This Thompson is going on my LIST. Right there with Brandon Davis. And I could care less about the whole Lindsey Lohan debacle. Just some people rub me the wrong way. I have some serious issues with people who think because they have the fortune of being overpaid and overadored, that they have the right to belittle others whose income doesn't rival a small countries budget. Celebritiy kills me. Especially when it's those 'famous' people who don't really do anything, or they do but are awful at it. Those that are famous for their pretty face or how much money they inherited. I don't mean to sound holier-than-thou here. I understand the whole concept, I myself have totally fallen victim to idolizing famous people. And you know, it's always bothered me a little. Even when I was writing to the Jonathan Taylor Thomas fan club and waiting by the mailbox for my autographed photo to come. And even now, I'm pretty sure if I saw some of my favorites I would lose the ability to speak and to do that whole 'standing' thing. I do it too. All the time. But my deal-breaker is when the celeb takes that adornment and starts confusing their high status as the norm. Just because you're up in a tree doesn't mean we get to call that the ground now. I equally love you and hate you, celebrity. We can get married, but we probably shouldn't have any kids.
So a friend of mine, Sally*, has recently been put into a situation where she is working very closely to said traitor of The Thompson name. Let me give you a play by play of conversation as it was related to me:
"Hi Sally, thanks for coming."
"No problem. It's a great party."
"Thanks." A fake laugh and a disapproving, (disgusted?) glance towards Sally's hair, "Wow, your hair is like tons of different colors."
Sally self-consciously puts hand to hair trying to remember if she had any buckets of paint dropped on her in the last few minutes. Nope. All clear, just her usual brown hair. Sally tries to make a joke, "What is it like green and purple?"
A snort, and a snobby remark is her reply, "What did you run out of money when you were getting your hair dyed?"
Excuse me! Sally's hair is brown/almost a dirty blond, but by no means does she have anything extraordianary like dark roots or blond tips. Not even to mention that Sally is the nicest person ever. She's one of those people who just radiate happiness!
This Thompson is going on my LIST. Right there with Brandon Davis. And I could care less about the whole Lindsey Lohan debacle. Just some people rub me the wrong way. I have some serious issues with people who think because they have the fortune of being overpaid and overadored, that they have the right to belittle others whose income doesn't rival a small countries budget. Celebritiy kills me. Especially when it's those 'famous' people who don't really do anything, or they do but are awful at it. Those that are famous for their pretty face or how much money they inherited. I don't mean to sound holier-than-thou here. I understand the whole concept, I myself have totally fallen victim to idolizing famous people. And you know, it's always bothered me a little. Even when I was writing to the Jonathan Taylor Thomas fan club and waiting by the mailbox for my autographed photo to come. And even now, I'm pretty sure if I saw some of my favorites I would lose the ability to speak and to do that whole 'standing' thing. I do it too. All the time. But my deal-breaker is when the celeb takes that adornment and starts confusing their high status as the norm. Just because you're up in a tree doesn't mean we get to call that the ground now. I equally love you and hate you, celebrity. We can get married, but we probably shouldn't have any kids.
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