Life & Hollywood: I Haven't Got Him

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.

Life: Just To Know That You're Around

Know What's Cool 2: Facial Recognition Software



So you're in LA, land of the rich and famous and televised. You don't want to get your hopes up or anything, but you allow this tiny glimmer of hope - of "what if". What for? For a sighting. Know what's cool? Spotting people from movies and television on the street. And I don't mean so you can mob them and ask them dumb questions and make a nuisance of yourself. I mean because, to me, seeing faces that I've seen so often on the screen right out there in the real world is really very amazing. I love television. And everyone's allowed a little fangirling once in a while.


Naturally, however, the story that goes with that picture is less about me. We went to this restaurant, see, that my sister ( told you she was all-knowing LA-style ) said was simply the best for breakfast - or brunch, I don't honestly remember what time it was. So we went inside, ordered, and decided to sit outside to eat. We're there for... oh, a healthy amount of time because by then our food had come, when three others stroll up to the entrance gateway.

No more than seconds later, my dad says, "I know her." I make my best effort to look around without being grossly obvious but I'm getting nothing. All those hilarious stories about me spotting obscure faces starring in other roles, and I got nothing. Eventually, the people come around our side and they're talking. Then my mom says, "Oh, that voice! That's definitely her."

But whoooooo!

As it turns out, it was some actress from the show "Samantha Who?" Ironically - my parents couldn't remember that part, so I had to supply - but I still didn't know who the actress was. We just happen to go to a restaurant at the just right time.. and it's someone from a show I haven't even happened to watch because my parents turned it on while I was in the room. Not even that.


Well, I've got four more months, right?

Life & California: You're So Damn Hot

Know What's Cool? Installment One: Someday My Prince Will Come



So I feel this didn't get properly addressed in my previous article - but do you know what's cool? I'm in California.



It's an entirely odd and not altogether unpleasant sensation when you realize that what you told yourself you were going to accomplish is what you're doing right now. This isn't to say that all my dreams have come true and I can now rest and retire... but being in the state of California before the next Minnesota winter was just supposed to be this thing I told myself... and now it's happened. No matter what goes on next, I'm still scheduled to spend all my wintry day-times in a state that doesn't seem to remember what that season even is.

I hope it's a feeling I can continue to use to make all those other things happen. Until then... I'm in California! I drove past an honest to God studio. ... which I've done before, but okay. Still cool.



Also drove to Sprinkles, on favor for my sister. She knows all these spots by now, living here for a while before me. I mean, in all honesty, my parents drove - it was one of their last acts before they shipped themselves back home. Reportedly ( by this sister ), Sprinkles has the best cupcakes you ever could desire. Do not be fooled by shops with devilishly similar names and logo-styles ( I was ).

I did actually drive, though. To my sister's place, with all of my worldly belongings ( well, the packed ones, as we went over earlier ). I will now be squatting ( seriously, no rent ) till such time as Christmas when I'll brave snow to see family then return to a place of my own ( except, not really ) to be blessedly free to sing along with my music as loud as I want ( maybe ).

Peace out.

Life: Rock Down To Electric Avenue

The first task I was asked to do in the systematic stripping of my old but not as old as my childhood residency of my once childhood bedroom was remove the cage I'd come to refer to as my 'bedroom'. The cage had been left over from the not-so-glory days of cat breeding when a certain brown male - who shall not be named for his own safety - had to be separated. He had to be separated because he peed a lot. Yes, it was a mighty existence.



Anyway, I was lazy and the cage was already in there so... it only seemed natural to build the bed inside much like it were a ship and the cage were, perhaps, a bottle. With slightly more wiggle room. Just slightly.

I liked the effect it had on the room, giving the illusion that somehow my apartments had more class than just being a basement bedroom. I did not, however, like the large black boxes it put in front of my TV screen when I wanted to watch late night movies. It was a trade-off. And now it had to go.



I laboriously undid and removed the entire thing, discovering mid-process that I hadn't quite cleaned it on all sides as well as I'd originally thought, and ended up feeling rather good about its leaving after all. This also affected by how I was getting paid for doing it.

The second task - which I skillfully held off till the last second as is my usual record - was packing. This became difficult because I had to sort through a lot of my useless shit and because I had to pick which of my movies I didn't want to watch for six months. This is a pain because there's not really any way you can positively know which movies you will or will not feel like watching. In the end, I grabbed a couple of favorites and a couple of ones I'd never seen and left it at that.

Then someone else decided she had to oversee these processes. As per usual, my luxurious silver cat hefted herself onto my bed and laid right across the 'coming with me' pile as if she knew I was getting ready to take off. She later transferred herself to the very Bunny-sized luggage I'd put out to start packing my clothes into.



This made things harder because 1) she was lying on my suitcase and 2) she was not, in fact, coming with me. I let her sit wherever she wanted, though, because it would be our last chance for a while.

If anyone ever had a doubt, though, mark it now - you really can fit all your clothes into one over-sized suitcase. I actually got to a point where nothing was in my carry-on but I couldn't think of what to bring. I packed a few extra movies, in the end, but it was like... ummm. I dunno. I didn't want to take a bunch of extra just for giggles... it would just end up sitting around...

But I got all packed and we went to the airport and stuff. That's boring. Nobody wants to hear about that. Hey! How about we jump right to California.



Mainly what my parents were doing here with me was buying me a car, making sure I knew the area, harassing me too much about finding a job, freaking out about every little detail, getting all up in my shit, using my computer too much because they were too lazy to plug their own into the hotel wired internet, and being loving nice people who paid for everything.

Oh. And seeing my sister who goes to school here.

As per more usual, she wanted to go to Santa Monica. We go there, like, every time. I took some pictures for... I don't know. Cause it feels like that's what you should do there.

Honestly, I don't know what else to do at a beach. I'm not a huge fan of sand. Or sitting in the sun without moving. Or salt water. Or other people who do enjoy those things.



Know what is cool, though? Colorful birds that don't fly away. There we go.

We walked a bunch, too, just to end up at a restaurant that was closed. My sister's a big fan of checking the star ratings of restaurants before she goes to them. I just walk in. Or don't. Depending on how I feel. So, I was a bit peeved at having gone blocks to a closed place when we'd passed a whole bunch but walking also makes me peevy, so, it was sort of an unfair weight against my family at that point.

I hope to do more walking here, though. I dunno. Now I own a car, so. We'll see.



Look, folks! Santa Monta! ... yaay.

Whatever.