Sunday, December 27, 2015

This Year, I Learned That...'s possible to land your dream show.
But that dream show may not be what you thought it'd be.
Those who once cheered for you might turn against you.
And those who you thought didn't care might end up your biggest supporters.
The ones you looked up to might fail you.
But the ones who look up to you might not.
This year, I learned that some friendships may fade, but instead of gaining new ones, sometimes other bonds just get stronger.
I learned that despite someone repeatedly saying they'll always be there for you, sometimes they leave the second you turn around.
But as it turns out, you're better off without them anyway.
I learned that when you leave them to fend on their own, arrogant, pompous bastards will fail.
But despite all the assholery I had to put up with, I'll take no pleasure in their downfall.
There'll be no sly smiles or "I told you so's".
Just a shrug of pity for wasted potential.
I learned that while you think you have nowhere to go, someone might be quietly waiting for the opportunity to take you in.
I learned that sometimes, it's unbelievably good to see an old friend, whether or not you realized you needed them.
...And whether or not they realized it, too.
I learned that when you have a career altering decision, you can agonize over it for ages.
But in the end, you need to learn to follow your instincts.
And sometimes, when you begin to regret your decision, the outcome may change in ways you never thought it would.
In some ways for the worse. But in others for the better.
This year, I learned that I will never have things as together as I'd like them to be.
I realized that there'll never be enough time in the world to do all the things I want to do.
That while I may be loved by all on set, I often wonder if I'm lovable in real life.
In 2015, I learned that one can both be drowning and swimming at the same time.

Here's to getting a little closer to the shore in 2016.

Happy New Year to all.

Friday, November 6, 2015

"What's The Problem?"

Does anyone else think it's fucked up when at the end of the night, there's about a half dozen guys milling around the truck, backpacks on, just itching to go home while there's still one person on set wrapping?

I've had that happen to me too many times. All too often, I'll return to the truck at the end of the night, discovering that everyone else was gathering their stuff or even taking off for home while I was still cleaning up the mess of cable or lights that was left behind, leaving me to scramble for my things so we can lock up for the night.

All too often, I wonder how I ended up loading the last of the carts on to the truck by myself at the end of the day while everyone else is already headed for their cars. We're still all on the clock, so why am I the only one still working?

I got super frustrated with this the other night when I was filling in as the Best Boy. One by one, six guys came up to me at the truck some time after they called wrap, asking me what else needed to be done before we can all finally go home. And to each one, I asked, "Is everything all cleaned up and left as we found it?" Six yeses were my answer.

So some minutes later, everyone gathered around the truck, backpacks on and the next day's callsheet in hand. I did a head count before dismissing them all for the night just to make sure I wasn't forgetting anyone. No man gets left behind, right?

"One, two, three, for, five, six... Wait, where's Juicer 7?" I asked.

"Oh, he's still wrapping cable inside."

Um... What?

Since when does having unwrapped cable left count as being "cleaned up"?

And when did it become okay for SIX guys to be standing around the truck, begging to leave for the night when one was still working?!

That's when I started to get pissed off and sent a few guys back in to help him.

Meanwhile, one of the other guys looked at me and said, "What's the problem?"

What's the problem?


The problem is that apparently, everyone thinks it's okay for one of their fellow colleagues to continue working on their own while everyone else got to go home and collect the same pay.

The problem is that while I'm thinking or camaraderie and teamwork, everyone else is apparently thinking it's every man for himself.

The problem is that when I ask SIX PEOPLE if every thing's cleaned up and in order, and get SIX YESES, I find that those SIX YESES ARE LIES.

"What's the problem?"

Fuck you.

That's the problem. 

Sunday, October 25, 2015

I Loved Them All, But Not Enough To Stay.

It was a damn good crew.

I'd been a Best Boy* a few times now and a juicer even more, and few shows ran as smoothly as this one.

Everyone was laid back and always jovial, trusting each other to do their jobs, and despite me and my compadres slipping in mid-season, we fit in like we were part of the family all along.

I'd go out for drinks with the Art Department and have coffee with the Accountant. Transpo practically used our truck as a clubhouse when we were on location and I often took naps on the couch in the Prop Office.

An the UPM** was a very understanding guy. Sure, he'd get squinty when you asked for special equipment and extra manpower, but he always heard you out and even if he didn't give you what you wanted, he'd work it out so we at least got what we needed.

The hours were great, too. Enough to make a living, but not enough that you couldn't have a life, and the ADs put together schedules that actually made sense.

It was a pretty sweet show to be on and the people there were great. I loved them all.

...But not enough to stay.

I never totally got along with my boss, and so when the next season of the show came around again, I was faced with a choice: return to the show with a boss I didn't love but a crew that I did, or start a new one with a nicer boss but a lower job title.

I chose the latter.

While I would have loved to stay with the cool crew and a keep the higher job title, I realized that every time I thought about returning to work for the more difficult boss, a small sense of dread would form in the pit of my stomach.

I figured that couldn't be a good sign.

I felt sad that I would no longer see those guys every day, and I'd have to work hard to prove myself on this new crew. But I feel like in the end, I made the right decision.

I may have lost one family, but I've slowly starting to gain a new one.

*Or more politically correct, ACLT, or "Assistant Chief Lighting Technician".
** Unit Production Manager. Aka: the guy that controlls the budget. His job is basically granting/denying you stuff.

Monday, October 5, 2015

Jucier Math, Pt. 3.

There are 168 hours in a week.
I'm at work for at least 65 of them.
I'm on the road commuting to and from set an average of 10 hours a week.
Usually sleeping in my car for about 4.5 hours a week.*
And sleeping in my own bed about 48 hours a week.
I'm out around town causing havoc around 10 hours a week.**
That leaves an average of less than 5 hours a day where I'm awake and at home.
Minus an hour each day for showering, getting dressed and other personal grooming.
Minus another hour to account for the mundane tasks of doing laundry, paying the bills, loading the dishwasher, making the bed, etc.
Which gives me about an average of 2.35 hours a day*** of free time, which quite honestly, mostly consists of me in front of a screen of some sort (whether it be a Kindle, TV, computer, phone, movie theater, whatever).
Which begs the question, how the fuck did my apartment end up so messy when I have so little time??

Previously. And previously.

*Despite the long drive times, that's still me leaving early to avoid the worst part of morning traffic. Which means catching up on my sleep in the parking lot before work.
**And by causing havoc, I mean going to the bank, grocery store, dry cleaners, getting the oil changed in my car, and all the other errands that life consists of.
***Realistically, this isn't divided up evenly over 7 days due to work and (lack of) weekday life.

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Fork In The Road.

I came upon a fork in the road. One led to a steady position as a lamp operator on a very well known show, while the other led to a higher position on a lesser known show.

I stood for the longest time at the damn fork, not knowing which path to take. One would lend a better job title to my resume while the other held a show name anyone would recognize whether they watched it or not.

The lamp op position held the possibility of advancement. But just a possibility. Not a guarantee. And nothing official as I'd only be covering for this person or that person for whatever reason until their absence become more permanent. In other words, I'd be the understudy of the department, ready to step in whenever needed. And I'd be working under familiar people who I respect on a creatively fascinating show.

The Best Boy position on the other path is one I've done before. And while I loved loved loved the job and the relief it gave my back from lifting coils of cable, I could've gotten along better with my boss, who rarely ever saw eye to eye with me on how to run things, making everything that much more difficult. There was a battle every day.

So which path do I chose?

The one with the lower job title on a prestigious show with good people?

Or the one that leads to a smaller show with a higher job title and a boss I don't necessarily like?

I'm standing at this crossroads, not knowing which path to take. I know I need to pick one soon and start my next journey, but I still have some time before the sun goes down. So for now, I think I'll stand here, staring at my choices, just a bit longer...

Sunday, August 16, 2015


I need a 10K going through the window.



Where's it going?

It's going [schkkschskch] in the we-[strcchhhkskksch]


[skckkschgcshhskkkscks] I got [schhfckkschkkschshchshrshhcksackfffkkgch] window.

Steppage. Can you go again, Gaffer?

It's going in the west bedroom window.


Is anyone getting that light?

Yeah, I [gcshkkshcksgskshcskfskacksschshsshkkcshgk]

I'll take that as a yes.


Yeah, I have the light. Can someone help me with the stand though?





Who the he-[gskkcshschhskchsshcagschhchsackkshsksa]








*"Steppage" is when someone steps on what you're saying over the radio. Film set walkies operate in half-duplex mode, which means you can either talk or listen, but not at the same time. So when someone's talking and someone "steps in" with a comment of their own, all everyone else hears is static. Loud, annoying, ear drum crushing static.

**And that, my friends, was how my whole last week went.

Monday, July 27, 2015

The Weather In L.A.

They say there's no weather in L.A.
That the seasons don't change.
Just because our winters don't snow.
And our summers aren't humid.
But we have seasons.
They change.
As sure as my next show will end, they change.
As sure as I change, they change.
The differences may be subtle, but they're there.
You can feel it in your bones.
You can see it in the sky.
You can sense it in the air.
The days get darker.
The nights longer.
The sun doesn't shine as bright.
And the moon hangs low.
Your body feels tired.
Exhausted and melancholy.
But soon enough,
When you've accepted the gray,
The light gradually comes back.
Little by little.
Day by day.
The sky gets brighter.
The nights not as long.
The morning sun makes skyscrapers shimmer like diamonds on the horizon.
And the moon takes its place at night.
You feel lighter,
With a bounce in your step.
Flowers bloom and the grass under your feet turns green again.
The dry, beige strands becoming nothing but a distant memory.
But as soon as you get used to the warmth on your face,
And the cloudless blue sky,
The breeze turns cool.
The clouds move in.
A shiver runs through you.
And the rain begins to fall.
The days get darker.
The nights longer.
The sun doesn't shine as bright.
And the moon hangs low.
You can sense it in the air.
You can see it in the sky.
You can feel it in your bones.
As sure as I change, the seasons change.
As sure as my next show will end, they change.
They change.
And I change with them.


Thursday, July 16, 2015


Peggy Archer touched on the subject of "mansplaining" a couple years ago, but for some reason, I didn't really understand the term until recently.

Maybe I didn't understand it until an FSO* came up to me when I was helping set up a light. We were shooting outside in a park and he explained to me why I shouldn't put a ballast on dry brush. I looked at the ballast I had just set down, confused as to where the danger was since it was sitting safely on a concrete slab with no woodsy debris around. I pointed to it, still confused on what I had done wrong to warrant such a lecture, and asked him if that was okay. "Yeah," he said, "I just wanted to make you aware of what you're not supposed to do for the future. I'm trying to teach you." I guess being female is what I did wrong because none of the males in my department got the same speech. Did I mention I was the Best Boy on that job?

Or maybe it was when I was checking out equipment that I finally understood the term. Since I've never dealt with this particular rental house and their paperwork wasn't very clear, I asked our floor guy if their ballasts usually came with a 220v snake bite. This apparently prompted him to give me a five minute lecture on what they're used for, how to use them, and what 220v means. Seriously? 1) It was a "yes" or "no" question. And 2) I've been in this industry for close to a decade now. I think I know what a 220v snake bite is.

Or perhaps it was the other day when a colleague "helpfully"** explained to me that the mockingbird the sound guy was bitching about was imitating a car alarm that I finally understood the meaning of the term.

Was the asshole mansplaining when he was quizzing me about my own equipment?

Was the other asshole mansplaining when I was warned that lights get hot?

Or when Douche Bag One explained a c-stand to me?

Was it mansplaining when Douche Bag Two wanted to "teach me" that the colors are supposed to match up when you connect banded?

What about that time when a dickhead actually explained breakfast to me?

Come to think of it, why did it take me so long to really understand what this term meant?

Can a man please explain it to me?

* Fire Safety Officer. He's basically there to ensure we keep fire lanes clear, we have an exit path should an emergency occur and make sure we don't (unintentionally) burn anything down.
** And by "helpfully," I mean I was sitting there minding my own business when said colleague actually got out of his seat, walked by others in our department, and stood in front of me just to "teach" me about this natural phenomenon... Which I was already aware of, thankyouverymuch.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

I Hate It When...

... everyone that looks in your truck as they walk by has to stop in awe and comment, "Wow. Your truck is empty."*

Yeah. I know it's empty. It's called "getting peeled on days that ends with a 'y'."


* or "Hey, where did all your lights go? Hahaha." I'm sure I'd find that joke** to be funnier if we didn't just use every light we had while being ridiculously understaffed.

** Here's an oldie but a goodie:
"Our Gaffer's an 'available light' kind of guy."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. He uses every available light we have!"

Sunday, June 7, 2015

"If Men Were Treated Like Women In Hollywood."

While I can't vouch for how accurate or exaggerated any of the other parts of this video are (although it I had to guess, I doubt it'd be far from the truth), if you change the part where they say "P.A." to "electrician," I can honestly say those scenes hold truth*. Very much truth.

I've even had this scenario happen to me. Almost word for word. And more than once.

If the "on the set" scenes are so eerily accurate, how realistic do you think the other scenes are?

* And by that, I mean if the roles were reversed. I mean if I was in the guy in the video's place like I am in real life. know what I mean.

Thursday, May 7, 2015

My Days Off.

I'd have so much fun with these...

2015 started with me finishing up a show, finishing up another one, and then working on a string of pilots that somehow (more or less) seamlessly flowed from one to another.

And then a funny thing happened: the shows all ended.

WTF? Anyone who reads my blog on a semi-regular basis knows I'm usually going from one thing straight on to another.

Even more odd, the next thing I had lined up didn't start for at least another two weeks, which means that for the first time in what seems like forever, I have some real time off.

Sure, I've had occasional days off in the past couple of years, but only a day or two here and there and usually just long enough to take care of some business, like finally having that weird noise in my car checked out, and maybe meet up with a friend for lunch.

But two whole weeks before I get another callsheet seems unheard of.

I spent the first week finally tackling the mess that is my apartment, sorting through the clutter and stacks of mail that inevitably pile up when I'm working. I even cleaned out my closet and finally got the door to shut! The place still isn't what I'd like it to be, but it's an improvement and good enough for now.

I decided my second week of off time should be dedicated to me.

I met up with friends, went to museums, ate at new restaurants, ate at old restaurants, got a massage, sat outside and read a book trashy magazine, and bought something silly for myself.

But oddly enough, the thing I was most excited about doing? Growing out my nails and painting them.

It may sound weird and kinda gross, but having longish (not super long, but long enough to make a "clackity-clack" sound when tapped on a table), brightly colored nails is a luxury for me. Throwing around 4/0, wiring practicals and moving lights around all day makes having short nails a necessity, despite wearing gloves. Anything longer than cut down to the nail bed is just asking to be broken, split, or torn. And nail polish, no matter what it says on the bottle, WILL ALWAYS CHIP THE FIRST DAY. (Nail polish manufaturers, if you're reading this, feel free to send me your best "anti-chip"/"tough-as-nails" polish and I'll prove to you that it won't last a day in my world.) Not to mention all the gross gunk and grime that gets caught underneath. Ew.

For me, having "girly" nails is just one of those little things you can't have when you work on this side of the industry and I reveled in having them, even if it was just for a week.

Which makes me wonder what other simple pleasures do other people indulge in once they finally get some time off? Wear flip-flops everywhere instead of work boots? Spend hours in the kitchen cooking a great meal? Bust out the margarita pool?


Monday, April 27, 2015

"We Mourn, We Remember, And We Will Never Stop Fighting."

April 28th is Worker's Memorial Day here in the U.S. (and Canada's Day of Mourning).

The IATSE is trying to organize a moment of silence at 1pm (EST)/ 10am (PST).

You don't have to be a union member to participate. Or be in the industry. Or even have a job. Workplace safety is something that affects everyone no matter who/where they are and I think it's something we often take for granted.

To read more about it, go here. And here. And here.

I know it's kind of late notice, but please participate if you can.

Bonus points: Google this Bad-Ass Mother!

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Producer Logic.

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, "Producer Logic" is often the answer to why some things seem totally stupid and ass backwards.

Some examples...

- Production denies your request for more manpower for the day because they don't want to spend the money. So instead, the set ups take even longer because you're shorthanded, and therefore, cost production even more.

- Production doesn't want to pay for a rigging and wrap crew, so they have to pay the entire shooting crew to do it along with giving everyone meal penalties for their pre-call and late wrap... While in double time. Oh, and a forced call penalty if they don't finish before their turnaround time.

- Production cuts down your equipment list due to budget, but then spends more on manpower and time as your crew leap-frogs lights around from set to set.

- Production doesn't want to pay the extra money for leveling blocks for the condor, rendering the condor they paid for useless since we now can't use it because (surprise!) it's not level.

- Production spends its money paying for big name actors and DPs, but doesn't have any money left over for crew and amenities to support those people.

- Production wants to use a location because it's "free," but has to deal with time restrictions, sound issues, it takes transpo over an hour to move the trailers over, etc and has to fix a bunch of shit in post and/or do re-shoots.

- Production skimps on the caterer in the beginning but then has to splurge on a really good caterer when everyone complains about the food... Including their bosses. (Hint: If you had just gotten a decent caterer to begin with, you wouldn't have had to splurge on the really good one later.)

- Production doesn't want to buy a $400 putt-putt because it's "too expensive." Instead, you add it to the equipment rental where they're paying $85/week for it... for six weeks.

- Production wants zero L&D but then only gives you one day to load a truck by yourself, undercuts your man power for the whole show, rushes you through wrap to avoid paying overtime, and then wonder why things get lost and broken... All while paying you a little more than minimum wage.



Thursday, March 26, 2015

And It All Comes Down...

Recently, Michael Taylor, big brother to Hollywood blogs everywhere, had a show end. It's no surprise. We've all been there. If you're working in this industry and have never been on a show that ended, then congratulations on what must be your first day/show in the business.

But while getting laid off is inevitable in our line of work (the camera assistant on the very first set I was ever on told me, "I get laid off every day.") that doesn't mean some endings aren't harder than others. And this seemed to be one of those times for Michael. He knew he'd never work with this exact group of people again. And he knew the chances of finding magic like that on another show were slim.

But what he didn't know was that I was watching. I had figured out which show he was on long before he announced the title on his blog (after all, how many shows end a season with a bathtub crash?) and some time after (a long time after, actually) I found myself on the same lot, stationed ridiculously close to the stage with "Melissa & Joey" emblazoned on the elephant doors.

The next few months had me drifting in and out of there as is the life of a perpetual day player, but my eyes would always linger a little longer than necessary whenever I passed by those open doors on the way to or from my own stage. A long time reader of his blog, I wanted to catch glimpses of the lights he'd precariously/carefully hung and then wrote about, despite it looking just like every other sitcom rig I've ever seen.

Then news came of the show's inevitable end and I watched as it all came down. Day by day, every time I passed by those elephant doors, which were now perpetually open to facilitate the process of wrap, the stage looked emptier and emptier. Set walls were gone, lights came down, and soon, even the scissor lifts and carts that were the only constant during the whole demolition process were gone, leaving only piles of miscellaneous items on the stage floor.

At that point, as years of work was dismantled in just a matter of days, I was on the lot almost daily and wondered how odd the stage I had stalked from afar would look once it was completely empty and hollow.

Only that day never came.

As the stage became emptier and emptier each time I passed by, I had walked by expecting this glance to by my last as I was sure it had to have been totally cleared out by now, only to find that the piles I saw on my previous pass had grown instead of diminished. And they grew again when I passed by once more a little later. And before I knew it, a whole new set had done up.

I couldn't believe it. Melissa & Joey hadn't even been out of the building a full day before another show came and took its place.


I wasn't naive enough to think that nothing would inhabit that stage ever again. After all, a piece of property like that sitting around unused looses money for the studio, but it was a little odd to witness another show moving in before the last owner even got a chance to shut the door behind them.

It's just another reminder that Hollywood doesn't care. Stage 14 was a place 120+ people had called home for the past five years, but as the saying goes, "the show(s) must go on." No time for mourning. No moment of silence for what once was. No adjustment period. Just an unending stream of disassembling and re-assembling. Of acquiring and releasing. A constant cycle of out with the old and in with the new.

That, is the core of Hollywood.

It doesn't give a shit. It don't got time for that. It doesn't care that you spent five or ten or twenty, or even fifty years here. It has no loyalties to you or anyone else. It's an unstoppable force that churns out hits and flops, one right after another. And it'll continue on whether you and I are here to help it or not.

Eventually, the show I was on called it quits for the season, only I didn't feel the same melancholia as Michael did when his show ended. I wasn't around this season long enough to form an attachment to any department other than my own, and I knew I'd see those guys around the corner. This was one of the times I wasn't too sad to see a show end.

But as we were in the middle of wrapping out our stage, we had to suddenly stop what we were doing and move everything we had on the ground to the other side of the stage. We had a few more days of wrap left, but the new show scheduled to come in after us was moving in today and they needed some room.

Just like Michael's show, Hollywood couldn't wait to get us out of here so it could get a new one in. Our cable wasn't even cold yet.

Hollywood can be such a bitch.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

You Know You're On The Right Track When...

... You're going through your annual pile of W-2s when you realize the total on one of them is more than what you made the whole year not too long ago.

Monday, February 16, 2015

SNL 40.

I grew up watching Saturday Night Live. I don't remember how old I was when I saw my first episode, but I know I was probably younger than I should've been. My earliest memories of TV include Saturday morning cartoons, shows on PBS and staying up late for SNL; and one of those things is definitely not like the others. Looking back, I suppose it's a bit odd that my parents let me stay up that late, let alone watch something that's not exactly kid friendly.

More often than not, I'd devote my Saturday nights to watching the show, if not, at least a few skits. Even when I was old enough to spend my Saturday nights out with friends, I'd still watch it whenever I could. This weekend ritual lasted up until I left for college, where finding a TV in a dorm room was kind of scarce and spending your Saturday night in front of one was a sign that you're wasting your youth.

Although I haven't really paid attention to the show in recent years, I decided to tune in on Sunday night to watch their 40th anniversary special. I may not know all the cast members or mainstay characters anymore ("The Californians?" Really?), but I figured I should at least pay tribute to a show that's been on for FORTY YEARS and entertained me from childhood to adulthood.

The show was lengthy, but star-studded. And while I caught myself looking at the clock more than once during the three and a half hour broadcast, it was fun to reminisce and re-visit some of the skits and characters I had all but forgotten about. After a while, it seemed to me that this show was more about poking fun at themselves and basically having a big-ass reunion party than putting on a longer version of their weekly show and it was fine by me. It was a show for those who made the show, and after forty years, they absolutely deserved a little bit of celebrating fun.

And if you needed more proof that the whole shindig as something just for them, look no further than the "In Memoriam" part of the ceremony. Not only did they include those who graced the silver screen (John Belushi, Gilda Radner, Chris Farley, etc) but those who we never saw as well. I was surprised to see they paid tribute to crew members who have passed, from prop makers to wardrobe to camera operators, and even more surprising was that the applause and "awws" from the audience filled with SNL alum during those moments rivaled those of the long gone cast members. Unlike the Oscars where there'd be silence when a set designer or writer was remembered, those in the SNL family gave as much respect and remembrance to those behind the camera as those in front of it. The general public may not have cared who those people were, but the people in the audience did, giving as many cheers to a camera operator and cue card holder as they did to Andy Kaufman and John Belushi.

And as the show winded down, they revisited a skit that I had loved as a child but haven't seen in over two decades: Wayne's World.

There they were, Mike Meyers and Dana Carvey sitting on the couch, looking like they hadn't aged a day (mostly).

If you didn't see it, here's their contribution the show:

This was probably my favorite moment in the hours long broadcast. Not only was it a tribute to the crew, but it was done in a way that meant something. It wasn't a cheesy, token, thirty second montage of crew photos and clips. It wasn't a brief speech at the end that no one could hear over the music as the credits rolled ("Thanks to the cast and crew for the last 40 years! Goodnight everybody!"). And they didn't bury it somewhere in the middle of the Top Ten List either (they could have easily put it somewhere below "Lorne Michaels"). Instead, they put the crew first and at the top (which is more than I can say for any show I've worked on), turning the skit done by a popular, iconic duo into something that truly honored those who made the show possible but are never seen, and gave them a moment in the spot light.

At the end of it, Meyers/Wayne and Carvey/Garth did their classic "We're not worthy" bit in respect to those who are on the crew, but in my opinion, nothing is more worthy than that.

Monday, February 2, 2015

I'm Surrounded By Work.

It's finally Saturday and my first chance to sleep in for what seemed like ages.

By the time I pull myself out of bed, I ponder the pros and cons of eating a late breakfast or if I should hold off a bit and eat an early lunch.

I decide to settle for the latter, but make myself a cup of coffee. As I'm setting my mug down and move a pile of duvetyne aside so I have a place to sit, I look around my messier than usual apartment. Not having a decent amount of time off in what seems like eons has led to things piling up in my humble abode and it hits me that I am now literally surrounded by work.

My entryway is littered with work boots, waterproof shoes, and other footwear I only wear on set. My kitchen sink is filled with coffee stained travel mugs that I sip from on my way to work while a substantial collection of snacks I "liberated" from the crafty table hogs the counter. The dining area is currently home to a slew of light bulbs, ratchet straps, gels and other expendables I've acquired from shows that have wrapped but haven't found a storage spot for yet. My coffee table houses an unofficial collection of Sharpies and Marks-A-Lots and C-47s that I forgot were in my pocket until I sat down on my couch after a long day. The couch itself has a pile of industry related newsletters and magazines on one of its cushions and next to my DVD player is a collection of projects I worked on by haven't had the time to check out.

And my bedroom is no better. I have a laundry basket full of clean clothes for work (honestly, I've been procrastinating on putting the clothes away since I know it'll be empty again in a few days as I pull things out of it every morning. I know, I know.) and my hamper is overflowing with dirty ones. My desk holds piles of accumulated business cards, pay stubs, and carbon copies of time cards. More forgotten C-47s pulled from pockets and a bottle of water from craft service sits on my nightstand. The jeans and shirt I wore to work last night (that I really should toss in the hamper) lies in a crumpled pile on my bathroom counter while an (oversized) crew jacket is draped over the back of my chair.

Even my car isn't immune to the take-over. My work bag and rain gear fill my back trunk while my passenger seat could be mistaken for a shrine to old callsheets, lot passes and production maps.

It seems like these days, I'm surrounded by work no matter where I go. Most of the time, I'm either at work or at home where it looks like a work bomb exploded. The rare occasion I have the time to venture out and see friends, it's usually spent hanging out with someone I met while working... And the topic of conversation inevitably leads back to work (not that I mind*).

The only time I can recall not being within reach of anything work related was when I was at the grocery store a couple of weeks ago. And now that I think about it, I bought a couple frozen meals during that trip for the rare occasion where I actually get home from set early enough to eat dinner.

I love what I do for a living so it's no surprise that so much of my life and space is taken over by it. But am I the only one that lives like this? Is there any other industry out there where it's so easy to be consumed by it?

* 1) I've been so busy lately anyway that if I couldn't talk about work, I'd kind of have nothing to to say. I basically have no personal life until the slow season starts. 2) These get togethers often turn into bitchfests about the current or previous shows we were on because we certainly can't vent to our current co-workers for obvious reasons. It's kind of like a support group. 3) They're often a great networking opportunity and you learn who's on what show, where and for how long. Not to mention your showbusiness friends will know if/when you're available should they hear of anything.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

"What Did You Just Call Me??"

The year may be young, but I've already been mistaken for a grip three times, and an intern once.

I've been called worse things before, but I hope everyone's new year is starting off better than mine!

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