Princess.

What I want to do anytime anyone calls me "Princess" on set:


Don't Call Me Princess from Cartoon Network PR on Vimeo.


*Bonus points for Buttercup being "man enough" and "throwing like a girl."

Waiting.

I spend a lot of time waiting.
Waiting for callsheets.
Waiting for pass vans.
Waiting for stake beds.
Waiting for my breakfast order.
Waiting for rehearsal to be done.
Waiting for the cameras to be set up.
Waiting for first team to be ready.
Waiting for them to get the take and move on.
Waiting for them to cut.
Waiting for them to turn around.
Waiting for the next scene to start.
Waiting for the first snack to arrive.
Waiting for lunch.
Waiting for second meal.
Waiting for the truck to arrive after a company move.
Waiting for the service elevators on location.
Waiting for them to call wrap.
Waiting for a call to come in.
Waiting for the call to come in.
I spend a lot of time waiting for the right opportunity to come around.
I wait in the sidelines while others take their turn.
I wait for the time when I'll be taken seriously.
I wait for when I won't be considered "new" or a rookie anymore.
I patiently wait for the time when my opinion will be valued.
I wait to be considered an equal, and eventually a leader.
I wait for the right people to notice the potential in me.
I wait for all of these things.
Some arrive faster than others.
But I am here.
Waiting.
For as long as it takes for the opportunity to arrive.

It's Curtains For Me!

Part of my nightly routine, right before I crawl under the covers, is to open up the curtains in my bedroom. I love how the morning sun filters through my window, the light often helping me slowly wake before my alarm officially jars me from my sleep.

And when I get home at night, I close them back up, because you know, pervs and I don't need to be giving my neighbors a peepshow as I change into my PJs.

Unfortunately, in typical me fashion, it took about a week of me doing this curtain open/shutting routine before I realized that since I took a rigging call for the next couple weeks, I actually wake up before the sun comes up, and due to L.A. traffic, I don't make it home until long after it's down.

Sigh...

Now my curtains just stay shut.

Untitled.

She got the best grades in school.
Which got her into the best college.
Which got her a job in her field of study right after graduation.
Which she stayed at for the better part of a decade.
After which, she decided she had enough of.
She packed what she could and sold the rest.
And bought a one-way ticket to the other side of the world.
She spent the rest of her youth never really finding a home,
but she had everything she needed.
She traveled around the globe, going from one country to another,
one culture to another,
eating and drinking the local food,
visiting old ruins and modern marvels;
making new friends and losing track of the old ones.
Her life was now constantly filled with new sights, experiences, and adventures.
She's admired and envied by everyone,
including strangers who hear her tale,
for being so ballsy and daring and seeing the world.

I am not her.

I got good grades in school.
Which got me into a good college.
Which did basically nothing to get me a job in my field of study after graduation.
But I packed what I could anyway and sold the rest.
Not to travel the world.
But to pursue a dream.
I moved to a city I didn't know.
On a path I didn't know.
Actually, fuck the path.
I had to forge my own.
I didn't drift from one place to another.
I didn't stop to see the sights.
Instead, I signed a lease and never left.
I didn't live out of a backpack.
But an apartment in the Valley.
I turned strangers into friends and colleagues.
And questionable, unpaid jobs into paid ones.
And turned those jobs into a career.
I came to a city of millions as an unknown and found a place for myself.
I sought out an industry notorious for being unable to break into.
And I found myself a way in.
I saw an industry of men who can be unrelenting in keeping it a boys club.
And I fought my way in.

But I will never be admired like she is.
No one will ever ask about my tales of a road less traveled.
I won't be called brave for leaving everything behind like she did.
No one will ask to hear my stories.
Because most people don't know this business like we do.
And don't know the things we give up, leave behind, or the struggles we face.
To the outside, we have a job, just like them.
We have an unrelatable job that seems relatable while she lives out a relatable fantasy.
She left everything to pursue a passion and a dream.
So did I.
But her stories will be heard.
While I sit on the sidelines.
No one will know how similar our lives are.
None of them will care about my tale.
But I do.
And that will have to be enough.

This Year, I Learned That...

...it'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.

You Know Crafty's Bad When...

...even the Craft Service guys won't eat it.

"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?

 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.