ordinary extraordinary

Space Debris

You know what's on the list of Things I Never Thought I'd Have To Care About?

Errant space debris.

And yet, when a bit of galactic junk took out a satellite, it screwed up my whole morning.

Satellites, you see, are integral to that whole broadcasting-live-from-a-location thing. There are hundreds of birds orbiting the globe at any given time, and we the broadcasting community book space on them to transmit from a remote site back to Master Control. They go in and out of service as they age / get replaced / etc, but it's never good when your contact tells you that the satellite on which you have your time booked "suddenly went out of service." It's really not good when today is Super Tuesday and everyone and their brother is broadcasting live from somewhere and there is no space available anywhere. Or at least, not anywhere useful.

SAT-XYZ? Oh, that'll be swell... except for the fact that it's so low on the Eastern horizon that we can't actually see it from Master Control. Minor detail.

I ended up getting a crash course in orbit locations from our Engineering department and discovered a nifty web resource that was immensely helpful in my formulating a plan B. (I also took no small amount of pride in the fact that I could actually interpret said web resource - I wouldn't have understood a word of it six months ago) Still, I think I had about six panic attacks over the course of four hours as I went through the painstaking process of finding an appropriate satellite, figuring out which company controls reservations on it, and making sure that our Engineering department could program it into our system.

I thought space was supposed to be peaceful!?

Balance

Today I went to lunch with a friend who is struggling against the confines of her cubicle-based job; I counseled her earnestly to find the balance in her life, to embrace the fact that life cannot be lived in sixteen square feet.

The irony was not lost on me, therefore, when my boss caught me just as I was walking out the door tonight and made me stay and take care of some inconsequential things that really could have waited until tomorrow morning. He made me stay just long enough to keep me from having enough time to drive home and change before seeing Out From Underneath at the Roxy, so I'm still at the office... sitting at my desk, pondering the nature of balance. (And being very annoyed that I have to go see the boys in my grubby work clothes, rather than the cute outfit I had planned. Grr.)

I didn't realize quite how burned out I was on my job until I took some time off over the holidays. I didn't do anything spectacular, even my trip to Seattle was spent largely catching up with Boy 2 & the Rockstar while getting my ass kicked at Guitar Hero, but the simple act of being not at work was wonderfully liberating. I spend so much time trying to fit my life around my job that I almost didn't know what to do with myself without that obstacle. I could just... live! Sleep, eat, read a book, run an errand, walk around downtown Seattle with no particular destination in mind, whatever... there was no schedule, no need to try to cram the important things in around the thing that pays the bills.

That's just completely twisted, isn't it? Trying to fit your life around your job? It's completely backwards. I mean, I think we can all agree that no one is ever going to reach their deathbed and find themselves wishing they'd spent more time at work.

I recently said to someone that although I like my job, I don't love it and one of my biggest fears is that I will allow myself to continue to do it simply because I'm good at it and someone will pay me to do it. Tonight, when I forfeited training to do something that I knew wasn't imperative, just to make my boss happy and "keep my job," I heard the first few pebbles slide down that slippery slope. I was instantly furious - both at my boss for making me stay to appease his own misplaced panic, and at myself for letting him do it.

That anger got me wondering: How do I keep the balance in my life? And more importantly, do I even need balance? Maybe the whole idea of "balance" is just a load of crap and striving to stuff my life around my job isn't much of a goal at all. Why settle for half a life? Maybe what I need to do is take a page from a friend's book, chuck my present circumstance, and go and do that thing that makes my heart sing even when it's frustrating me beyond belief.

Leap and the net will appear.

Of course, I still need to pay the bills. That very concrete consideration always pulls me back down out of my chuck-it-all fantasies and into the real world, where the bill collectors do not care how loudly your heart sings unless it is being paid to do so.

So what's the answer? I don't know yet, but I'm working on it. Right now the answer is to shut down my computer, head to the Roxy, and watch my boys rock the place off its foundations.

It's a start, anyway.

Ah November, I barely knew you

Seven posts in thirty days? That's just sad.

How is it possible that it's December already? Every year it seems that someone hits fast forward around the second week in October and bam! We go straight from Halloween to the Christmas season with barely a pause for breath. Of course it doesn't help that, in addition to all the holiday madness, this is also the time of year when my job ramps up from "crazy" to "absolute unbridled insanity." Long time readers will remember that we're getting into that time of year when I regularly work more than 100 hours in a week.

Thankfully, my raise finally came through... seven months to the day after I started in the position. Gotta love corporate bureaucracy.

It's a generous percentage increase that's being retro'd back five months - in a couple of weeks I'll get the largest paycheck that I have ever seen so I should be overjoyed. But the fact is that the percentage isn't quite as generous as it should have been, nor is it being retro'd quite as far as it should have been, and after seven months of being jerked around the most emotion I could summon was "It's about time." I did thank my VP and Manager profusely for their hard work, though - they've been beating their heads against the bureaucratic juggernaut for months on my behalf and I am VERY appreciative. It's nice to know that they value me enough to have kept fighting for me.

In other news... there isn't much other news. I was joking with VT on Friday that my life has become boring, but she suggested that perhaps "focused" is a better descriptor. I'm working a lot, training 5 days a week, trying to get a new side project off the ground, and spending a lot of time taking stock of my life. I guess that's what winter has always been for me - a period of intensity and focus before the carefree enthusiasm of spring. I'm enjoying the work this year, but I'm still looking forward to feeling the warm sun in a couple of months.

Holiday Preparation

In the office behind me, an Associate Producer is on the phone:

He: Oh man, you're talking about a lot of people huh? We're totally going to have to invest in some hookers & livestock! Wow, Julie's coming?! I haven't seen her since our Chester the Molestor days. Sweet!

Blue

How is it possible that an entire week has gone by since last I posted anything? Similarly, how is it possible that Thanksgiving is next week? Who put 2007 on fast forward all of a sudden?

I've been in a bit of a funk for the last week for a variety of reasons. We've been busy at work and my raise is still under negotiation, as it has been for the last 6 months. Money remains a constant source of stress, especially since my Treo committed ritual suicide during a meeting yesterday and I had to scramble to get a replacement. My knee is healing well, but I'm frustrated that I can't train as hard as I'd like to until I've built up more strength in my legs. The Fireman and I have been talking a lot lately, which is both wonderful and heartbreaking since it's very clear that we both want to be together but it's just not in the cards right now. Two of my friends are going through some icky health stuff and I'm worried about them. And, my friend James was killed on the 5 last week. Though we weren't terribly close, he was a shining spirit and the world is a bit darker for his loss.

Thanksgiving (my absolute favorite holiday) is only a week away and once again I find myself unable to treat a houseful of friends and family to food, drinks, and football. I love hosting Thanksgiving, but I haven't been able to do it for the past couple of years because of money & work issues. While I know that's not the end of the world, it still sucks and I'm bummed.

So, yeah. I've been a bit blue lately. There's a lot going on in my head and I've retreated while I struggle to sort through it all. There's a lot to sort.

I am so grateful that I found Muay Thai when I did - it allows me to shut off my brain for a couple of hours each night and that has been invaluable in keeping my sanity.

Sometimes, I love my job: Part 2

So we did a walkthrough with the leopard handlers, which prompted this email from my boss:

the one note we did get was that the jib movement could spook [the leopard], so whatever you can do to minimize that would be great.

And the following response from our smart ass Technical Director:

Should we keep an iso reel running on [the jib op], so we have some cool video in the event he is mauled*? :)

On days like this, it's hard not to love my job.

_____
*Never fear, animal lovers - the leopard will be in a cage so there is no danger to her or to anyone else.

Sometimes, I love my job

I just got the following from my boss:

Just an fyi there will be a live leopard in the studio on thursday.

That was the entirety of the email.

Could Have 2

I'm way too sore & tired to put together one coherent post, so it's time for another random collection of things I could have written about!

• California? Still on fire. Fortunately none of the wildfires are burning too close to me, but several friends have been evacuated already and many others are packed and ready to go. Please send extra special mojo to the Greaser and his wife - the condo that they bought last week is directly in the path of one of the Valencia-area fires.


• I'm finally on the Twitter bandwagon. Follow me, won't you?


• Keith & I nearly got blown onto Santa Monica Blvd when we were at Century City on Saturday night; that should have been a warning about how bad this round of fires was going to be.


• I am a dork, a big one. I was supposed to join my company's team for AIDS Walk Los Angeles on Sunday, but I forgot to set my alarm and slept right through it. I have agreed to repent by offering many rounds of margaritas to the two girlfriends with whom I was supposed to walk.


• I met Paul Joiner at the laundromat on Sunday night. That name won't mean much to you if you're not a college football fan, but if you are you'll remember that in the mid-nineties he was a starting linebacker at Cal and one of the most promising young linebackers of the decade. His career ended when, in the summer between his junior & senior years, he got behind the wheel of a car drunk and high and totaled it. Though the 4 passengers all escaped with minor injuries, he was in a coma for a couple of weeks and had to re-learn everything - even how to swallow. He's doing pretty well, all things considered. He's an interesting guy. My title as Queen of Random Supermarket and Laundromat Experiences is secure.


• Work has exploded all over my life and I'm trying to clean it up because I am doggedly determined to keep some semblance of balance as I head into my crazy season.


• A huge number of my friends have either recently had babies or are due to have them soon. I suspect this is directly related to the zillions of weddings that I went to one spring/summer a couple of years ago.


• I willingly and happily spent 2.5 hours at the gym tonight. I got there early to warm up and have someone show me how to wrap my hands (again), then class ran a little long, and  then as I was hanging onto the heavy bag for dear life after my 100th knee strike (ow) Chief poked his head around the bag and said "Hey, can you stay? I want you to do 30 minutes on the bike before you go." For some reason, I said "Sure!" I blame temporary insanity.
  


• I'm considering starting a separate Muay Thai blog because I want to talk about it all the time, but I don't want to bore all of you to tears. Because my usual posts are soooo riveting. :-)


• What's everyone doing for Halloween? I want to do something, but I am completely devoid of inspiration.

Catching Up

It's Tuesday afternoon so I'm just about on time for my DaveL.A recap!

Oh c'mon, cut a girl some slack. Not only did I work 148.5 hours in ten days (and then 15 more yesterday), somewhere in there my dining room ceiling started leaking pouring water, my car battery died, and The Fireman and I called it quits. Oh, and I came home Friday night to find my landlord up on my roof trying to find the cause of the dining room waterfall; when I asked him how bad the problem was he just shook his head and said "Bad, very bad. Very not good at all." Awesome! (Dear Universe, WTF? No love, Me)

Given all that, I think it's safe to say that by the time Saturday afternoon rolled around I was NOT feeling terribly social. In fact, I was feeling like crawling into bed with a bottle of bourbon was the best idea I'd ever had. However, I'd RSVP'd for DaveL.A. weeks earlier and didn't want to be that blogger - the one who tries to attend but mysteriously never makes it (*coughPaulycough*) - so I dutifully threw on some clothes, brushed my hair, and headed over the hill to Lucky Strike.

Boy am I ever glad that I left the house; Dave throws a hell of a gathering, let me tell you. (And he looks awfully dapper while doing it, all dressed up in a zombie t-shirt and snappy blazer)

I'm always a little trepidatious about blogger meet-ups. Though I've had very good luck with the ones I've attended so far, there's something slightly nerve-wracking about meeting people you know (and who know you) only via blog.  A blog is not a person, it is a creative medium that reveals a small, edited fraction of a person. Consequently, gathering a bunch of bloggers together without the safety of an edit feature, or our thin veils of anonymity, can either go fantastically well or horribly awry.

Fortunately DaveL.A. fell into the former category and we all had a smashing time! Smashed being the operative word here as everyone had two or three (or ten) drinks while we ate dinner and bowled threw brightly colored balls in the general direction of some pin-shaped things.

Since the guest list was super-duper top secret, I was curious to see who would attend. I was pretty sure that Hilly would be there (And she was! And we got hit on! And now we're lovahs!), but I was pleasantly surprised by everyone else: the Atomic Bombshell and her Ninja, Neil and his lovely wife Sophia, Liz, SJ and her pro-bowler Bret, Catherine, Foo, Peggy, and of course our Master of Ceremonies - Dave!

(Why do I suddenly feel like Dorothy? And you were there, and you were there, and Toto - you were there too!)

Being in such exalted company, I was surprised and flattered that anyone at the table had ever read my blog; I very nearly blushed myself to death when Neil told me that he'd been reading for a couple of years. Citizen of the Month is one of my very favorite blogs so I was touched to hear that something I'd written so long ago stood out in his memory. Thanks, Neil :-)

We had PLENTY of time to chat both before we ordered our food and while we were waiting for our lanes (Lucky Strike is not known for its prompt service), which worked out well because there wasn't ever a pause in conversation longer than the span of time necessary to take a sip of beer or lemon drop. Since I was sitting in the middle of the table, I actually had the problem of being between conversations and wanting to take part in both! I should have followed Catherine's lead and hopped from one end of the table to the other.

When we finally got down to the lanes we split up into two teams and promptly laughed, danced, and high-fived our way through two games. I did my part to make sure the gutters were working properly and was very proud when I broke 70 on our second game. (Seriously, I cannot bowl. SJ has proof.) It all ended much too soon, but this is what happens when a bunch of old folks like us start drinking at 6pm. We're trashed and ready to call it quits by 11! OK I wasn't trashed, I was driving, but Dave & Hilly were fulfilling that role for all of us. Off we stumbled to our various cars and away into the night we went.

I came away from the evening with an official DaveL.A. lanyard, a handful of fabulous Artificial Duck pins, a gift certificate for an Artificial Duck t-shirt, a nifty Everyday Goddess sticker, some truly fantastic new friends, and a lesbian lovah. It was hands down the best Saturday night that I've had in quite some time.

Thanks, Dave, for giving such good party!

Talk the Talk

Earlier today, in discussion about a location shoot we're doing soon:

Me: D, do I need to find you another juicer?
D: Nope, strictly silks and flags on this one. Hoff will Key-G.
Me: OK. We're dropping a lunchbox at the first position anyway so it'll be there if you need it. A, what about the catcher?
A: We're all set, I've got the spot reserved.
Me: B, have you done a site visit? Can you see the bird from there?
B: Yeah, we'll be fine.
Me: Awesome. Then I think we're all set!
Wide Eyed Intern: I have no idea what just happened, but I think we're having lunch and smoothies at a baseball parade.

Translation under the cut.

Role Reversal

If you ever have the chance to pull over a cop, I highly suggest you do it.

While at Nerd Prom 2007, I spent two hours standing in the middle of a 6-lane street slowing and directing traffic. The "why" isn't terribly important, but it is not an understatement to say that my job (and the jobs of lots of other people) was entirely dependent on my doing this.

What an interesting social experiment THAT turned out to be. People are assholes. I was standing in the middle of a very busy street, very obviously trying to keep everything moving in a slow and orderly way, and I cannot tell you how many people raced past me, screamed obscenities at me, or (my favorite) slowed down until they were a few feet away from me and then gunned it. I hate people. Especially people who drive cars in Southern California.

After about 45 minutes of being abused while standing in the blazing hot sun during my 10th hour of work, my patience wore dangerously thin. When I saw a white Ford Explorer coming around the corner WAY too fast, I put up my hands in the universal gesture of "slow down, cowboy" and got no response.  I waved my brightly colored "SLOW" sign and smiled; no response. At this point the guy was coming way too fast and not only was he in danger of hitting me, he was also in danger of destroying the whole reason for me to be directing traffic in the first place.

So, I started to yell.

"Slow down, slow down, slow the HELL down, asshole!"

It was right about the time that my lip were forming the "h" in "asshole" that he got close enough for me to see the San Diego Police Department graphics on his side door.

Shitshitshitshitshit.

He blew past, screeched to a halt, made a u-turn, and headed straight for me. I was absolutely convinced that he was going to arrest me and prayed that my boss would bail me out. When the officer pulled up next to me and rolled down his window, his face was absolutely expressionless:

He: Ma'am.
Me: Hello officer.
He: That was very rude of me.
Me: *blinkblinkblink* Pardon?
He: To blow past you like that, it was very rude of me. I saw you there but I have to be somewhere, so I didn't slow down. I'm sorry about that.
Me: Oh, um, that's ok. I'm sure you have someplace to be...
He: That's no excuse for my behavior; I really am very sorry. I shouldn't be racing around like that without a lightbar or siren (his truck had neither). If you'd like to take my badge number and file a complaint, I completely understand.
Me: No, I don't think I need to do that. Thank you for turning around to apologize, though. I really appreciate it.
He: Do you want my number, er, badge number anyway?
Me: *blinkblinkblinkdidhejust?blinkblink* No, that's really not necessary, but thanks. You're very sweet.
He: Well you have a good day ma'am. Good luck out here.
Me: Thanks; you too, officer.

I would say that was the strangest thing that happened while I was standing out there, but about twenty minutes later a woman pulled out of traffic and ran up to me exclaiming excitedly "I know you, I know, you I totally know you!" Turns out we knew one another at summer camp, in Maine, twelve years ago - she recognized me from 50 yards while I was wearing both a hat and sunglasses. That was the strangest thing that happened while I was standing in the middle of the street.

Yelling at, and then subsequently getting hit on by, a cop was a really close second, though.

Back to life, back to reality

Did anyone get the name of the month that hit me?

What was that? July you say? Hmm... I'm not familiar with the word....

You know the story by now: Work ate my life. I've averaged 65 hours a week since the Fourth, with the added bonus of being in San Diego all of last week for Nerd Prom 2007. We did three massive shows back-to-back-to-back and by the time I got home on Saturday, I barely knew my own name. The cats had no idea who I was, either.

Is anyone else tired of this story? 'Cause I sure am.

Fortunately, we only have one teeny tiny event this month and it requires minimal work on my part. For the rest of August I am free! Free to go home before 7pm, free to train the girl who will be taking over my previous job (the one that I'm still doing, simultaneous to my current job), free to see my friends (at least I think that's what I'm supposed to call those nice people who leave me voicemails inquiring about my health.), free to figure out how to keep a modicum of balance the next time a huge event looms.

I decided to celebrate my hard-earned downtime by taking Friday off. It's my birthday (30 - eek!) and there's nothing pressing to do at work so I am going to keep myself as far away from the office as humanly possible. I don't know quite what I'm going to do yet, Mongo suggested a spa day so I'm taking that under advisement, but the important part is that I will not be at work. Woohoo!

For The Birds

Just now, in the Control Room:

Engineer: Remote Location #1 can't do their Transmissions check; their engineer hasn't shown up yet.
Me: How long do we have the bird*?
Engineer: Until the end of the hit, but Remote Location #2 is supposed to do their check at 6 and we can't take them at the same time.
Me: Location #2 is ahead of schedule, call their engineer and see if they can get up on the bird early. If we can check Location #2 while Location #1 is working on their uplink, we won't be too far behind.
Engineer: So you want Location #2 to be the early bird?
Me: *groan* Something like that, yeah.
Engineer: Somedays, this job is for the birds.

I haven't even had my morning coffee yet - because it's freaking 5:15am and I think that still technically qualifies as night.

_____
*bird = satellite

Silence

A co-worker of mine committed suicide this morning. He jumped off a freeway overpass and plunged into rush hour traffic. Every time I think about it, my whole body seizes up and for a moment I can't remember how to breathe. Although he and I weren't particularly close, this is so much more awful than Curtis or Tom's deaths were.

We worked in different departments and didn't spend time together socially, but our jobs crossed a couple of times a week and he sat just a few desks away from me. He was a good-natured sort, always helpful and friendly. The last time I saw him we compared notes about the Fourth and shared a good-humored eyeroll about how crazy work has been lately. I never picked up on even a hint of the yawning blackness that must have been consuming him, nor did anyone else who knew him better than I.

How far beyond despair must a person be to dive headfirst onto a busy freeway? Even in my darkest moments, I could never have imagined doing something so brutal to myself.

It was a horrible, wrenching way to start a morning, but it also smacked us collectively with a cold, hard dose of perspective. You could hear the mad carousel wind down to a screeching halt as we all tried to absorb the news and asked ourselves the same silent questions: Why are we allowing ourselves to be overworked into a frenzy? Isn't there someone we should be spending more time with, or something we've been meaning to do?  There were a few moments of absolute silence as we searched each other's faces for answers.

Slowly the carousel regained its momentum and we all climbed back on, whirling towards deadlines to a soundtrack of chaos & panic, but it was the silence that lingered in our ears.

You know what they say about assumptions...

Just now, in the office kitchen:

I'm minding my own business, standing at the sink draining the juice out of my canned pineapple before dumping it in a bowl. One of the Associate Producers peers over my shoulder while she's filling her coffee cup.
She: What's that?
Me: Breakfast.
She: Wow, that actually looks healthy.
Me: . . .

I wish that text could appropriately convey the note of incredulity in her voice; she may as well just have said Wow, who knew a cow like you ate fruit? I just assumed that you people exist on a diet of Pop Tarts and Cheetos.

Could Have

This week was simply chock full of blog fodder!

• I could have written about the bomb scare that shut down four blocks of the street on which I work Monday afternoon. Every single building in the area was evacuated - except mine.


• I could have written about my Catalan lessons and my tutor's continued refusal to speak to me in English. Not only are we great at charades, we're getting pretty good at Pictionary, too! I also could have blogged about how written Catalan barely resembles spoken Catalan and how much fun it is to try to figure out how to pronounce a new word when they're not spelled phonetically at all.


• I could have written about children, and the magnetism I seem to have for them lately. No matter where I am - at my Catalan lesson, at the laundromat, at the grocery store - they're following me around as though I am the Pied Piper. (Though I haven't lured any of them into a cave. Yet.)


• I could have written about the tropical wedding I didn't attend, the birthday invitations I had to decline, the drinks I completely forgot about, and the Curry Night I had to miss because of (you guessed it!) work. Also? I could have written about my frustrations over working this f*@%$*g much and still being this f*@%$*g broke.


• I could have written about the car accident I got into on Wednesday night and how awesome THAT was at the end of a 12 hour day.


• I could have written about Mongo, and how much he rocks for forcing me to go out and have food and beer, on him.


• I could have written about my friend Tom, who died early in the week - nearly a year to the day after Curtis (a mutual friend of ours) died under extremely similar circumstances. My friends & family could stop being plagued with cancer ANY day now, thanks.
  


• I could have written about working 6 days in a week and how, because Murphy is a bastard, the 6th day was the biggest nightmare goat rodeo of them all.


• I could have written about the new flowers & herbs I planted today, and how happy they make me.


• I could have written a long and eloquent post in honor of my Dad on Father's Day.


• I could have written about my tomato-stealing neighbor and how she is proof that if you give people an inch they will take a mile every tomato off your (6' tall!) vines.


• And of course, I could have written about The Fireman and how he continues to amaze and delight me every day. Even in the face of some serious things with which he's currently dealing, he never fails to make feel loved and cherished. I only hope that he can say the same of me.

Yep, it sure could have been a great week of blogging here at amandarin.net...

Would Have

Guess what boys & girls? It's time for another installment of Things I Would Have Written About If My Job Hadn't Eaten My Life:

• I would have written about Firebug's boyfriend flying me up to San Francisco last weekend as a surprise gift for her 30th birthday. That post would have included such gems as an explanation of why I'm kind of a big deal in Oakland, a description of the best burrito I have ever eaten, a review of Knocked Up, and a list of 50 reasons I no longer like to fly (hint: none of them have to do with heights, airsickness, or technophobia).
• I would have written about jury duty, and how I got it postponed the morning I had to appear.
• I would have written about the Ocean's 13 premiere, specifically about how rad Brad Pitt's car is (it was parked right next to our truck), how our Director got mistaken for George Clooney, and how I won the respect of an entire crew by carrying 120lbs of cable 20 yards. Also? I would have written about how glamorous my job is, as exemplified by our catered lunch which was served in a private corner between the urine-soaked alley and our generator. Ah, Hollywood.
• I would have written about the fact that Keith and I have set up a near-weekly lunch date and how much that rocks.
• I would have written about Orbit's Mint Mojito gum: Best. Gum. Ever. It tastes exactly like a mojito!
• I would have written about work and how I now have all the responsibilities of a promotion without either the new title or accompanying raise.
• I would have written about the Tomato Plants That Might Eat Pasadena, and the death of two of my bean plants (*sniff*).
• I would have written about my language tutor and her stalwart refusal to speak in English. We're getting very good at charades.
• I would have written work some more, especially since I logged 60 hours Monday - Friday and then went in for another 8 today.

So... yeah. That's what I would have written about, if I'd had the time.

*headdesk*

Overheard on the other side of the cube wall:

She: Hey, what does "T.V." stand for, anyway?
He: Umm...seriously?

Not terrifying enough? Then please note this additional tidbit of information: I WORK AT A TELEVISION STUDIO.

Kill me now.

No, on second thought, kill HER now. Quick, before she breeds.

Rebel Without a Cause

Today was a day.

A really CRAPPY day.

The kind of day that makes you want to throw your cell phone out the window, knock over your desk, and run screaming for the hills.

Perhaps you can imagine the mood I was in as I was walked down the hallway outside one of our studios, cursing my job and trying to decide how many times to use the phrase "goat rodeo" in my resignation letter.

Then I ran into a Stormtrooper.

Literally.

I went around a corner quickly, wasn't paying attention, and found myself eyes-to-chestplate with an overly tall Stormtrooper. There were four more behind him, chatting with an Imperial Officer and one of my cameramen while they waited for their next shot.

There was nothing I could do but laugh.

Seriously, how bad could by job be? Nobody else gets to run into Stormtroopers in the hallway!

A Day In The Life

And now for something entirely different!

A lot of people have asked me lately what I do. They know that I work in television, and that I do something involving logistics, but my actual job is a bit of a mystery to most. In reality, I have two jobs - I work for the same company as both a Studio Coordinator and Technical Coordinator; the former is my primary job and the latter is something that is added to my plate during certain parts of the year. 

But what do I do? Lemme 'splain. No, there is too much. With a bit of inspiration from VT over at pantagruel, lemme sum up:

A Day in the Life of a Studio Coordinator

• Groan and fumble around for my Treo when its alarm goes off at 5:30 in the morning. Try in vain to snooze for a few more minutes while Oscar meows incessantly in my ear that he is staaaaaarving.
• Stumble around the house doing all of the usual morning things. Field a phone call at 6:30am that one of my crew members is sick and won't be coming in. Shit.
• Piss of countless wives, girlfriends, and freelance crew members when I wake them up with my ass-early phone call. Finally find someone who grudgingly agrees to work. (Hello, I am paying you. Ingrate.) Decide that I really need more tea before I face traffic.

Open Letters: Work Edition

This afternoon, I received the following email*:

Hi,

I know you bent over backwards to accomodate us doing a shoot at Your Studio next Tuesday, but now we can't do it that day. Can we do it April 12th, right in the middle of your biggiest & nastiest production schedule and two weeks past the date after which the Senior Vice President said we couldn't get into the studio under any circumstances? I know you're going to say no, so I'm copying the SVP in the misguided belief that he'll make you say yes.

kthxbye,
Clueless Moron

Although I sent a properly professional response, I really WANTED to send this one:

Dear Clueless,

So you'd like to cancel your studio time for next week.

The studio time that we didn't want to give you in the first place, but that you insisted was ohmygodabsolutelytheonlypossibletimeever that you could shoot your commercial? The studio time that necessitated my re-scheduling god & everybody in order to accomodate YOUR fire drill? That studio time?

You're canceling it?

Awesome.

Oh, and you'd like to have some time in the middle of our busiest month? You mean the month when all of my regular shows will be in production, two will be moving to new sets & timeslots, and two more will be loading-in / teching / rehearsing for their premieres in April?

Unfortunately, I will be unable to accomodate your request at this time.

Not just NO, not just HELLO NO, but areyoufuckingcrazy? NO and don'tmakemecomeoverthereandbeatyouwithashovel NO.

Yes, the Senior Vice President will tell you exactly the same thing.

Please go die in a fire.

No love,
Me

This is why I'm not allowed to bring a gun to work.

Completely unrelated point: I've been getting a lot of traffic from the Bones forum over at Television Without Pity since someone was nice enough to link to my post about the show. Welcome, fellow Bones fans!

_____
*OK, I may have taken some creative liberties in the translation, but you get the gist of it.

Bigger Than Y2K And Twice As Stupid

The sky is falling, the sky is falling!

Oh, wait, no it's not. We're just moving the clocks ahead three weeks early.

WTF, people?

The Energy Policy Act was passed in July of 2005. Did it not occur to anyone to start planning for it before last week?

When I got into work this morning, our main scheduling program (the one on which ALL of production is reliant) was behind an hour and all of our Outlook calendars were completey out of whack. I'm not exactly sure how an hour time difference moves my Wednesday afternoon appointment from 1:30pm to 4:30pm and then duplicates it to Tuesday & Saturday, but apparently this time change is very powerful. According to our IT department not even an act of god can restore the proper settings - we're destined to be one hour out of sync from March 11th until April 1st.

And we haven't even changed the clocks yet! We're not doing that until Saturday night!

At least Palm sent me a very helpful email explaining in Very Serious Language that I must download a patch for my sync software ohmygodrightnow or risk never being able to sync my Treo again.

I say again: WTF, people? Am I the only one who is completely mystified about the mass hysteria over this relatively small issue?

It could be worse, at least we can still use our exchange server; poor Teece has been told that she may have to print out a MONTH'S worth of calendars because her company has fuxx0red their DST patch so badly.

Guess it's time to start stockpiling canned food and weapons - the apocalypse is nigh. Anyone want to go in on an underground bunker?

Glamour

Me, crouched under the side of our production truck
(note the tire behind me) trying to stay out of the rain*.

When I tell people that I work in television, their immediate reaction is usually something along the lines of "Oooh, how glamorous!"

Um, not exactly.

Don't get me wrong, I love my job - it's the perfect combination of my inner geek and my inner stage manager. But as you can see from the photo above,  I'm not exactly gliding down the red carpet in vintage Versace. More like well worn Merrell.

Walkie? Tool Belt? Cuddling up next to a tire to stay warm? Nothing but glamour here, baby!

-----
*For reference, our trucks look something like this. I was under the expansion, the part to which the stairs lead in that photo.

Note to Self

Note: Agreeing to have "just one drink" with the Utility Department* after working 40+ hours over three days is never a good idea.

So, I've survived the Golden Globes (but 8am sure did come early this morning). Four more shows to go in this mad, mad season! Updates will continue to be be spotty for awhile... the last hinge on my PowerBook finally gave out so I have no computer at home and no free time on my computer at work. It balances out, though, because the reward for working all of these crazy hours is that I'll earn enough in OT to buy myself a new computer!

Unless the government takes it all away in taxes. Bastards.

_____
*One of the hardest working departments in television, Utilities are responsible for doing everything to get the cameras & monitors set-up and functioning properly. They work their asses off and are notorious for showing the same level of enthusiasm towards their free time.

Perhaps if I stopped speaking Swahili...

This afternoon, while chatting with a Line Producer (LP) about the best way to get information to a crew that is not one of mine:

Me: Do you need me to send out the crew email? Normally I give them their call times, etc, but would you prefer to do it?
LP: Well are you giving them their call times?
Me: I will if you need me to. I'm only peripherally involved in this show so I didn't know if you had another plan for contacting the crew.
LP: You should give them their call times.
Me: OK, then I'll need all of the parking information, maps, and the credential pick-up location so I can send it to them all at once.
LP: Oh, you don't need to worry about all that. We'll send out the crew information.
Me: Will you include their call times in your email?
LP: Yes, of course.
Me: Great. Let me know if you need me to do anything.

Even money says that crew doesn't get their call times.

Surfacing

I have not fallen off the face of the earth.

I have not been abducted by aliens.

I have not been kidnapped by Creepy Guy.

I have not been whisked away for an all-expenses paid cruise around the world by a handsome beau.

I have, however, been chained to my desk for hours on end; work has simply exploded all over my life since Tuesday. So far this week the only two things I've done outside of work are buy curtains and flea dip my cats.

Oh, the excitement.

I cannot WAIT for Bootie this weekend; I need dancing and drinking like no one has ever needed dancing and drinking before.

Never fear...

...amandarin is here!

I'm back from my travels and busy trying to dig my way out from under the 965 unread emails that were waiting for me when I returned to work this morning. 965!! Apparently, I was missed.

In other news, Giftmas is on Monday. Have you bought your 2007 Lime Project Calendar yet?

That's me as Miss January. Buy a calendar!

Groundhog Day

Teece is having a rough repetitive day at work:

She: She keeps asking over and over again the same question, and Z and I keep answering her over and over again.  this is a conversation i have had MULTIPLE TIMES. it is a company wide problem. It is a CORPORATE IT issue. WE CANNOT CHANGE OR FIX IT.
Me: Dude.
She: stop bugging us with your goddam question
Me: LoL!
She: I hate her
She: i hate her so much
She: she calls it "thinking outside the box" or "looking at the problem in a new light" or whatever the corporate speak is for re-hashing the bullshit in yet another meeting.

We've all had those days, haven't we?

Lunchtime Politics

Across the street from my office is a cluster of six restaurants, the only ones for several blocks. The crosswalk in front of them is, therefore, prime proselytizing space between the hours of noon and two.

I've been assaulted by every possible special interest group while waiting for the light to turn in my favor: Save the Whales, Free Tibet, The Clean Water Initiative, the International Vegan's Association, you name it. Out of curiosity, I listened to their spiels the first few times. These organizations' reps are categorically uninformed and ill-equipped to answer questions or engage in conversation; they're more like automatons spewing sound bites while robotically offering pamphlets. So it's become a bit of a game amongst the lunchtime regulars to see how fast we can shut these people down.

Today, my challenger was a perky young recruiter for the Democratic National Party.

She: Hi! Help the Democrats take back Congress this year?
Me: No, thank you. I'm a Libertarian.
She: We really need to take back Congress, though, can I talk to you for just a second?
Me: I'm not interested in helping the Democrats monopolize Congress.
She: What, why not?
Me: I am a Libertarian. I don't support the Democratic Party.
She: But, what? We have changes that we need to make!
Me: There are only two changes I'm interested in making right now. One, getting that shrub out of office, and two, loosening the stranglehold that the nearly-indistinguishable Democratic & Republican parties have on our government.
She: . . .

Timing

You know that old Hollywood adage about getting your break from being in the right place at the right time? Boy was it proven true today.

There are always a fair number of motivated, young people who come to the studio on their own time to observe or train on their chosen positions. We do enough of a background check to clear them for day passes to the studio, but that's it - we don't pay them and we make it clear that we may not ever be interested in hiring them. The smart ones keep turning up anyway, hoping to catch someone's eye or make enough of an impression to score formal training or a paying job.

Today, I hired two of them on the spot because they were standing in front of me when I realized that I needed to train people in their positions.

One of them went from $0 an hour to $30 an hour in the space of 10 seconds because I told him he could only have the job if he was willing to start his formal training right that minute. I thought he was going to kiss me. When I mentioned to the other that good things happen to people who are in the right place at the right time, he responded "Yeah, this is exactly what I've been hoping for."

Let it never be said that persistance doesn't pay off.

Hour 12 of 15

Behind those sunglasses, I'm still surprisingly bright-eyed for having been running between the red carpet and the trucks for the last twelve hours.

Mo' money, mo' money

The downside of working in my industry during Awards Season (the roughly six month span between when the Emmy nominees are announced and when the Oscar statuettes are awarded) is that almost all of my waking hours are sucked up by work.

The upside is that, thanks to the insane number of overtime hours, I can earn a week's salary in the space of a day and a half. I will clock about 70 hours by the end of this week, but I'll be paid for almost 100.

Too bad I won't have time to spend any of that money until March...

Happy Happy

They say it's your birthday
Well it's my birthday too, yeah

Yes, it is my birthday. My first annual 29th birthday, to be precise. Fortunately my company was nice enough to throw me an expensive party hold its Summer Extravaganza last night so I've gotten a good head start on the celebrating already *g*.

I am also the only member of my department to have made it to work today. Awesome. Happy Birthday to me.

Since today is all about ME, how about a meme that I found over at Blogography?

Things You Don't Usually Tell Anyone About, like...

...a strange combination of food you like to snack on. Pickles wrapped in cheese slices.

...something you do that other bloggers who read you might find odd if they saw you doing it. Sing.

...when you were 7, what you wanted to be when you grew up - that you never told anyone about. I wanted to be a marine biologist, but I've told plenty of people about it.

...the thing you don't tell people at work about yourself. That I have a blog. ;-)

...what you like to do when no one else is going to be home for a stretch of time. I live alone at the moment so, everything! But when I am co-habitating, I only like to clean when the other person is gone. I have no idea why.

...the thing you believe - politically - that you don't admit to people who think you think like they do. My fiscal politics are far, far more conservative than most people realize. At this point, I've grown away from both the Republican and Democratic parties and consider myself more a Libertarian than anything else.

...that one thing from your childhood, outside of your parents, that you try to maintain some kind of connection with, and how. I keep my stuffed bear (True Teddy) and the first toy I ever bought for myself(a Pound Puppy named Mr. Peabody) in my bedroom closet. Seeing them each morning makes me happy.

...a song or group or singer you secretly like that everyone else groans about. Oh I have lots of groan-worthy music on my iPod... I have a weakness for bubble gum pop. It makes me happy and it's great for running and cleaning :-)

...do you close the bathroom door when you're the only one home? Yes, because if the door is open you can see into the bathroom from the living room windows.

Reasons to Love My Job

I just had the following conversation with one of my supervisors:

He: OK, you need to boot the shoot in Studio X next week; we have to install a jacuzzi that day.
Me: . . . a jacuzzi?
He: Yeah, for the shoot the following day.
Me: We're installing a jacuzzi for a day?
He: Yep!
Me: Will the crew at least get to enjoy it before it gets removed?
He: Do YOU want to see the entire crew in swimsuits?
Me: *bleaching brain* Good point

Seriously? I love my job.

Quittin' Time

Bit of a scramble today when we realized that the paint crew needs to work in one of the Green Rooms tonight and that all of the furniture needs to be cleared out of it before they can:

He: So the crew is going to be wrapped out of the Green Room at 5, right?
Me: Yeah. They didn't want to wrap early, but when I told them the alternative was that they move the furniture themselves, they decided they could be done by 5.
He: Good, 'cause my guys are out of here at 5:30 and they're not staying until 5:31. You know black folks: when it's time to go, they go.

Tough Day

Today at work, my boss ordered me to get iTunes installed on my computer and then gave me a rare pressing of The Who's Tommy.

Have I mentioned lately that I love my job?

Theater Humor

One of the last things that a Stage Manager does at the end of the day is send out the show report... a document which details the peculiarities of the day's performance. It's often very difficult to tactfully explain some of the things that happen onstage and I miss the laughs that show reports usually provide.

Now there's an entire website devoted to the highlights of theatrical show reports. My favorite entry?

Show: Xena Live: Episode II, Xena Lives!!! The Musical! (About Face Theatre, Chicago)
Notes: 1 hour prior to opening night curtain, an urgent call is received from the stage manager’s boyfriend informing the producer that the stage manager is too ill to call the show. Ms. Shmucker (yes, that’s her real name, she’s the producer) was already drunk at that time and had never seen the entire show, nor had she ever heard it called before. Just when everything was going to fall apart, the sound engineer tripped on an electric cable and erased the entire contents of the digitizer, which had not been backed up due to last minute changes. I, the 18 y.o. ASM was left with the task of preparing the show and the cast. 3800 cues later Xena saved the evening. Every cue was wrong. No need to keep track..

My heart cries for the poor guy even as I laugh hysterically at the mental image.