So I joined Twitter, right. This is just a small example of that community of crazy - an experiment, if you will. ( I also started watching "Glee", more on that later ) I happened to notice that hash-tags, or whatever these # things are called, sometimes show up on the sidebar, I guess by popularity that day. Anyway, I clicked on the #Glee one out of curiosity and sort of scanned through the options. Actually, I didn't even get that far - a couple of seconds if - and that little notice popped up. Since I'd clicked on the link, 53 more people had used that tag in their tweet. 53. .... fifty-three.
I know that's not a huge amount of people in comparison to how many there are in the world or anything, but, to me, that's still an impressive number to be talking about the same thing, using the tag, and all in the last second. Says something about the world. That I am now a part of.
Back to reality: I went in for my first, equally experimental, day at the production office. Naturally, I was nervous as all get out, but at least I knew the way there ( sort of ) and knew where I could park without feeding the meter ( I hoped ).
This is my noble stead, Red Three. It's a 2005 Chevy Aveo. I think. We got it at a Mazda dealer, so I am sometimes confused. The car's used, but the speedometer works and, really, that's all I can ask for. Also, not white. There's a super abundance of white cars in LA and, practicality and all that but, I'm sorry, I don't really like white on cars. ALSO, the radio face was already taken out so I'm gonna leave it in my room lest anyone come by hoping to steal such things. ALSO, it's cute. Come on. I fulfilled my main goal of getting a pretty short car so I could feel extra comfortable parallel parking anywhere, and it definitely worked.
So, after arriving for work an easy half an hour or more early, I chilled in my car then went up. This is what the courtyard looks like on the third floor - I'd been in this part before because of the interview. For the record, I still don't enjoy that the elevator doesn't light up the number floor it's on, but I have determined that it makes a loud, obnoxious beeping sound for every floor it passes, so. You just have to be paying attention. For loud obnoxiousness.
When I went in, things weren't crazy yet, lulling me into a false sense of security. ... Who am I kidding, it could've been a day spa, and I still would've been crying inside. The point is, things were quiet, almost no one else was in -- including the guy supposed to be "showing me around". Since all of the rooms are visible from the main one, it turned out later that this wasn't such a huge task for him, but oh well. I was given a script and told to sit in that intern room and read it. Can do.
I spent a good four+ hours in this room reading scripts, taking me through lunch-time, but not much after. For all that time, however, I sat here, on this couch, with this view. I could hear as other people came in and took phone-calls - let me say right now, I jumped every time the phone rang and my stomach dropped, even though the two planted in this room didn't ring on the same lines. So I wasn't even responsible for them yet and I was already dying whenever it happened. Go start, right?
Anyway, I went through the scripts. The first one was one they are currently putting through and the second one... I'm not sure. They're looking at? Maybe. He didn't have to write or give my opinion, so I just sort of took notes in my booklet just in case and moved on every time.
More view. The desk I decided not to use ( come on... couch! ), some movie posters that distracted me, and a SUCCESS! motivational list of things you should remember that just made me more nervous. Wooo, motivation.
This is the absurdly blank wall on the other side. I guess... that's supposed to be a window there. I don't know. The blank white boards on the floor remind me of art school and all the canvases lying about.
Lunch is at 1:00 PM, and you're given free reign until 2:00 to spend it how you please. I decided I would get out of that room, despite the decided comfyness of the couch, and take a stroll around the block. It was a gorgeous day, I'm in LA, why not, right? Here's your picture-guided tour of the neighborhood behind our building. I'm going to call this, Know What's Cool?: Eagle Dive. It has to do with housing architecture being so cool. Observe:
I don't know what these are, but I saw them under at least one or two trees while I went. There were others like them later on, but they were spiky instead of fuzzy. I think I like the fuzzies. They're like... baby tribbles. Or those dust-mites from Spirited Away. Whichever you prefer.
I think my phone camera has a finger-print on it...
Home-stretch! After this, I put my camera away and called my sister to wish you a happy birthday. Since all of that only took up about half of my time, I spent the rest of back in the room taking those earlier pictures you saw of my surroundings. Look at me, shaking all this chronology up. It's like I don't even recognize myself.
The rest of the day was probably even more dramatic than the first, because there was some deal that was supposed to have closed at 5, or then maybe it was 6 and then it was 20 after 6 and nobody knew what was happening yet. Lots of loud talking into the phone and listening in on other people's conference calls. Also it was more dramatic because I was technically "at the phones". This involved me sitting at a desk with nothing else to do but get the phone if Mike didn't get it first. Mike is, like, supernaturally fast at answering the phone, but sometimes he's already on it, or he's off doing something else. As it turned out, one of the other interns took pity on me and moved herself to a phone station after seeing my looks of desperation. So half the time, she got it instead, and I sort of just let her. I did answer it a few times, and had to be corrected twice on my protocol. I doubt anyone will remember those mistakes come next week, but I still found it in myself to be ashamed.
Anyway, that's how four more hours went by. Four hours. I was so nervous about the phone ringing that I couldn't even use the computer in front of me to browse the internet. Actually, that's a lie, I checked my mail, but then I didn't have anything to do that I didn't care about an entire office of people seeing me do, so. Yeah. I sat there. And hoped the phone wouldn't ring. Fun freakin' times. I'm clearly going to go far in this business.
I'm refraining from going into detail because apparently in Hollywood you should never tell anyone more than they have to know. That's what my intern pamphlet told me. Kind of like the show "Lost", where the first response is always "Doesn't matter." or, that failing, "It's not important."
THIS IS NOT HOW IT WORKS.
Since no one was telling me to go home or stay, I hovered around there until Mike dismissed us ( it was at 7:00 PM, a mere hour since I bothered to go move my car to parking that lasted later ). The other interns left at the same time, so we were able to chat it up a bit. We bonded some when I had to give my cell-phone number and no one recognized where my area code was from. Neither of them are from Cali either.
Driving home at night has an advantage of that there are far less pedestrians to be cautious about, but the disadvantage that it's darker and harder to notice streets you aren't used to yet. But I made it - clearly - and the trip seems to be getting shorter every time. Huzza.
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