Part I: In Which I Tell You About All the Places I've Been Farting Around To

And to think, one Tuesday ago I thought to myself, "Well. That's it. That's the last blog that I am capable of writing. I have been wrung completely dry of all recountable experiences and insights. Better go take my laptop out back and shoot it."

Fortunately this has not been the case. For starters, my landlady will not let me borrow her shotgun. Additionally, the past week has proven to be a whirlwind of new discoveries, explorations, and happenstances, to such an extent that I can't summarize everything within a single cohesive blog. Unless...

Unless...

If Severus Snape were saying "Unless..." this is how he would look.

I go for a two-part blog.

I think we're ready. Do you? Well, now isn't really the time to be having doubts about our relationship.

So for part I let's just go over the places I went. 'Cuz there are a lot of them.

Places I Went
1. Good Luck Bar. Been here before. Pretty sure I've talked about it before. Magical Silverlake bar with a low ceiling and hyper-stimulating clash of patterns everywhere. Boyfran hadn't been there before so I forced him to consume fruity drinks served in funny shaped ceramic cups with me.

Acid tabs available at the door.

2. Jay's Bar. Stop number two on boyfran and I's Silverlake crawl night. This bar is humbly tucked away in an otherwise unassuming/unappealing little strip mall. But if ye dare enter said strip mall, which is an iffy feat if you're trying to "have a Silverlake kinda night," you will be pleasantly surprised to find a trendy little bar with great atmosphere, prices, and beer selection. Looked like people were also eating bomb food.

"...For who could ever love a beast?"

Forgive me, strip mall! I should have seen your inner beauty all along!

 3. The Black Cat. Swankier bar and restaurant. I was too drunk and tired to really appreciate the place. I did, however, appreciate their cat-decked doilies enough to throw one into my purse.

Me-yow.

4. Angel City Brewery. AKA the coolest thing you didn't realize is happening in the arts district. Or maybe you did and you were a dick and didn't tell me. This is one of those "warehouse" bars a la Villains Tavern which I have posted about in the past because it's also the tits. The difference? ACB brews nearly all of its stuff, and has fun games and artwork interspersed everywhere. I cornholed. Yes. Digest that sentence.

From warehouse to funhouse.

OH YEAH AND DID I MENTION THE EPIC INDOOR SLIDE that they don't let you climb on.

Just a couple of friends cornholin' it.

 5. Bar 82. You've heard about it. You didn't know this is what it was called. You thought it was located in Koreatown but that's a different one. This is the recently opened ARCADE BAR. It's exactly what it sounds like, and to answer your question, yes, they do have the Simpsons game. The line is pretty long to get inside, unless you are a sneaky mofo like us and get there before the rush.

Is that building stoned?

G-g-g-g-g-g-games!

6. Handsome Coffee Roasters. My friend asked to meet here today. As with most places in the arts district, I drove around sketched the fuck out for like 5 minutes, nervously parked, and entered an otherwise inconspicuous building to discover that things are thriving in there like bioluminescent fungus. For the textbook coffee snob, this place is textbook coffee snob. It's in the arts district. We all knew what we were getting ourselves into.

Portlandia doesn't even need to parody this.

7. High Rooftop Lounge. Most excitingly, my aunt is visiting from Hawaii... affording me the priceless opportunity to go out and try new places. The two of us met up with her friend and friend's-friends for drinks atop this lovely roof in Venice. From there we sojourned on to #8 for dinner...

CAUTION: Prolonged exposure to rooftop lounges may result in "Yurtle the Turtle" complex.

8. Mao's kitchen. Um. I am changed. AMAZING Chinese food, great veggie options, super affordable, and smack dab in the coolest part of town (besides the drum circle). Just in case you need another reason to envy the citizens of Venice Beach.

I Mao Mao here and I Mao Mao there

Looking to post a part two in the near future. Stay tuned for more information about the trivial details of my very existence!

Recycle, Reduce, Rewrite

As I continue to be insufficiently employed I have returned to a lot of the homebody activities I did before having a job was a real thing. Reading, feng shui-ing my room, "trying recipes" at dinner... is this what retirement feels like, minus the ungrateful grandchildren and dementia?

Of all the things I've spent my time on, wouldn't you believe it, one of them is writing! Now granted, we are not talking some romantic ideal like, "Jessica saw her unemployment as an opportunity to finally devote all of her free time to writing. During this crucial point in history she wrote 12 to 16 hours a day and completed what would eventually become the most critical piece of literature of the century, 'Manifest der Kommunistischen Partei'." Not at all. It's more like I am so deprived of distractions that I have no choice but to actually write and work on stuff again.

Actually, it's not even that. It's that I finally drug my pilot script's ugly, gimpy ass to the 1st draft finish line and am at last able to go back and work on 2nd and 3rd drafts. It differs from writer to writer, but for me personally, I am a more productive and motivated writer when I'm editing and revising rather than starting from the very beginning. Many of the folks at my writing group talk about how much editing and revising stresses them out, but I honestly find it relieving.

Pictured above: the great-grandfather of BuzzFeed.

Why? Because the pieces are already there. Look, you've got a torso, a couple arms, some fingers, a spinal cord... and hey! Even if they're far from fully assembled, they're at least partially put together for you. All you gotta do is go from this...

...to this:

 

And then occasionally to this:

One hot potato.

 It's a lot harder playing god and having to figure out what sort of pieces we're even working with. For me, anyway. I don't know the first thing about building bodies.

...Probably because I don't go to the gym!

BA-DUM TSSS

This energetic burst of (re)writing is coming at a perfect time, since August is when the semi-finalists for a couple of the fellowships I applied to receive notice. By that I mean they are blindsided with an intense phone interview during which they will be asked if they have any other scripted material. If the answer is no, you're out of the game. On the atomically thin chance that I am asked to be a semi-finalist, I would at least like to be able to say with a coy little inflection, "Why, yes, I have an original pilot and a second spec script, thank you so much for asking. Would you like to read them?" And then boom. Champagne and bitches.

To wrap things up, I wanted to mention that this past Fourth of July is the first one I ever spent out here in LA proper. I did the same thing I do every year, which is barbecue at a friend's house and watch someone else's fireworks, so I have no comments upon the unique experience of an LA Fourth of July. It was just as wonderful as every other year. Thanks for not dropping the baton, Los Angeles.

My Fair Life-y

Last week's post was absentee because I was absentee from the world of writing, being pulled in last minute on a short film as the 1st AD and production designer. These are big jobs to do simultaneously, especially when you're prepping everything one week before the shooting date. However, when the only other thing you're doing with your day is rearranging the toilet paper rolls in the bathroom and checking every so often to make sure your grapes haven't gone full-raisin, you find time to do these things.

And thus... the 7-10 minute film "Taking a Chance on Love" was designed and assisted.

With obvious flair.

The project was short and sweet-- a total of 3 days and we finished early each day. That's quite a step away from the last project, which lasted 3 weeks and only avoided overtime perhaps two times. Can I get a round of applause for realistic time frames?

Thanks.

Not to mention when you break down the hourly rate I was being paid more than twice what I was paid on the feature film... for less time and considerably less hair loss!

I have officially determined that it's great when life is fair.

Though according to this guy it's not the fairest of them all.

Some exciting news to accompany this exciting news: I am now going to be an assistant to the director... indefinitely! Which, in case you didn't know, is flippin' awesome. She's nice, reasonable, and as we've already established, fair. Not to mention it's mostly telecommuting, enabling me to live out my lifelong dream of working while naked. After all, there is no other profession in the world where such a thing is possible.

It is, however, part time, meaning the job hunt continues.

Let me tell you a little story about that.

Last Friday I went in for a job interview. I was given no details other than I had applied online, it was for a position in marketing and working live events, and I would be interviewing with a few other people.

FLASH FORWARD: I pull into a Sherman Oaks strip mall. I am dressed professionally and carry a hard copy of my resume in a translucent folder like I'm motherfuckin' MIB. As I draw closer to the address written on my Post-It I see there are a few other women lined up against the building... and by a few I mean at least 15 others.

"God damn it," I thought to myself. "A cattle call."

For anyone who has never had the pleasure of experiencing a cattle call job interview: fuck you. They're the worst. It's the art of degrading applicants by throwing them into one pile on the assembly line and giving them "the spiel" in one foul swoop so as to avoid any inconvenience on behalf of the hiring manager. If you recall, I got roped into one of these when I first moved out to LA and was invited to interview at a very fancy office building for an insurance broker position. I cry myself to sleep every night knowing that I could have led a life of wealth and suicidal boredom.

So a total of perhaps 20-25 young women all dressed professionally and carrying a hard copy of their resumes in a translucent folder like they're motherfuckin' MIB fill out applications and file into what appears to be a small theater space. The hiring manager tells us about what we'd be doing, which is essentially youth talent recruiting, and proceeds to interview us all one by one by having each girl stand up in her seat and use 3-5 minutes to sell herself in front of all the other applicants.

Are we having fun yet?

Perhaps the hiring manager was.

Over an hour I spent there, listening to young women talk about what makes them such a unique little snowflake. My interview was by far the shortest, so I figured I was at worst unappealing and at best unmemorable. As I sat trapped while a dozen women interviewed after me, I was specks away from standing up and proclaiming, "This is horse shit. Good day to you, sir, and your harem of applicants." I hated the idea of talent recruiting and I hated that I had been lured into this interview, even if it was decent pay for extremely part time work. I stormed away from the interview fuming when it finally ended.

And then they called and offered me the job.

I don't begin until next weekend. Who knows, it might be less effort than I thought, and hopefully less morally and emotionally degrading. I'll be the first to admit I got cocky with my work experience and merely assumed I would move on to something better. This is indeed a step backward, but it's not a step in the wrong direction.

"And it's money until something else pops up."

--the sandwich artist who has worked at Subway for eight years going on nine

Our Top Story Tonight: Poor Chick Acts Like She's Better Than You

A day in the life of being unemployed but feeling jazzed about life may unfold in the following manner:

1. Bike to that new Starbucks that isn't overcrowded yet and spend your rainy day savings on a latte. It's okay to get a "grande" because it's a skinny latte.
2. Also get cream cheese pumpkin cake. It's okay because you got it with a skinny latte.
3. Pop open that laptop and check your emails, apply to jobs, and let grandma know her letter arrived in the mail.
4. Bike from there to the library. In the process you may speed down an epic tunnel you've only ever driven through. You may age 10 seconds backwards.

and 3 years forward when it's time to bike back home.

5. Jack music from the library, by which I mean believe yourself to be a total genius because you figured out that you can check out CDs there for free.
6. Meet up for lunch with your friend who works in downtown, and take your food to the swanky outdoor rooftop terrace of a building neither of you works in.

7. Head back to the library, pop that laptop back open and make significant editing progress on your okay-it's-shitty-but-getting-slightly-less-shitty draft of your pilot... whoah, when's the last time you ENJOYED writing this?
8. Bike back home and blog.

You may or may not be wearing your pajamas while all of this is happening.

Yep yep yeppity yep yep, it has been an "up" day for sure. In the midst of "interim unemployment," without a structured schedule I tend to bounce pretty frequently between ^up and _down days. I've had a couple downer days since leaving my job, but for every one of those days there is a day like today. "Jessica," you might say, "I believe that's the sign of a personality disorder." Nonsense! You worry too much. Stop distracting me while I'm shaving this stuffed animal.

I have a couple other life updates which may or may not be contributing factors to my peachy mood. One is that I got a small production gig as a 1st AD on a short film next week. MAKIN' DAT ULTRA-LOW BUDGET GREEEEEEEN DAWG.

Second is that on Sunday I had my first experience at The Standard. The Standard is a scene-y lounge/venue in a swanky downtown hotel known as, The Standard. I've never been because I have a pretty serious allergic reaction to West Coast guidos, but it's one of those places that's like,

*nasally voice*
"Ohhhh you wanna go to The Standard? Me and the girls were gonna go party at The Standard. You've never been to The Standard? Ohhhhhh my gaw how can you say you live in LA when you've never been to The Standarrrrrrrd."

So I decided to take my ratty ass up to their roof and check it out for myself.

Who's here to party?

I also dragged my boyfriend along with me, who is even more cynical about such places than I am. That's perfect because cynical people are like a portable live-action Mystery Science Theater 3000.

We did not get off to a great start showing up to the pool party late and standing in the line outside for an hour and a half. But all in all, it worked out because of 3 infallible factors:

1. Alcohol
2. Outdoor water beds
3. Giant pretzels

Absinthe somehow entered the equation, but I didn't ask for that.

Once given roof access we met up with one of my film friends and her posse of small, attractive blonde women and proceeded to drink. The wildlife at The Standard was amusing^ⁿ. There was a fair mix of successful models, desperate models, and Hollywood weirdos dancing around in bathing suits and participating in everyone's favorite mating ritual, "Guess how much I paid for these sunglasses." In that regard there was really never any hope for me; the girl who gave us our wrist bands had already called out my $12.50 bathing suit top from Forever 21. So instead, I just acted like the socially passable version of a 6-year-old on a jungle gym and bounced around on the weird water bed pods they had by the pool.

One section of the roof is a "biergarten" that in my opinion was getting a lot less attention than it deserved. It was a cute patio area surrounded by [fake] greenery and had a ping pong table, a second bar that nobody was really using, and a stand where a dude was straight up making giant pretzels. Boyfran and I split one, by which I mean, I think I ate part of his half. It was truly das Secret Biergarten.

Ultimately, The Standard is pricy and maybe a place to visit every once in a blue moon (as you may have guessed, I seriously need to financially starve myself to even out the past few days' expenses). But it's certainly not my idea of a standard weekend outing.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE???

On the Subject of Almost Getting a Job

Last we met I had dropped the probably unsurprising news that I was no longer working my EA job. As soon as I was unemployed I did what any sane person would do.

I went to a beauty salon.

AND THEN I kicked it into high gear looking for work. I could only think of my depressing post-grad struggles of applying to a million and one jobs that I was not qualified for, dedicating 10 minutes at a time to filling in a single obnoxious online application for NBC and Disney, blissfully naiive as to how much of my time I was actually wasting. I could probably have campaign funded, shot, and distributed a movie in all those little 10-minute increments combined.

But lo and behold, when I began applying to industry jobs this time around I had a startling realization: I have been alive for a year! And in that year I actually made some strides in developing my career. I got my foot in the door the way most everyone I've talked to does it, and that is: somehow.

This is also how I get into house parties.

Somehow: I got valuable experience on both the production and administrative side of film. I learned that I have a passion for production design and got experience doing that, too (hat tip to male-friend-Casey for giving me the opportunity to make that discovery). I learned what stuff like "call-rolling" and "asking for avails" is. I networked, whatever the hell that means. I learned how to ask for things. I learned how to act like a genuine industry-style liar.

And ALL of these things combined have made me a more appetizing candidate for industry jobs

The job application process has been a funny one. As I mentioned, I have been doing exactly what I did when I first graduated, which is sit glued to a computer to the point of wanting to vomit every time my fingers touch the keys, and just apply to everything I could remotely make a case for.

However, some key differences:

1. A year ago, I applied to anything-anything... swim instructor jobs, tutoring gigs, canvassing, technical writing, egg donations: just a jumbalaya of miscellaneous hats that might fit on my head. This go, I have only been applying to industry jobs, and the occasional writing gig I don't have enough resume experience to get. Which I'm kind of okay with, because blogging about health and fitness sounds so depressingly boring I would probably just eat all the time and get fat.

   

   Worst fitness blog ever.

2.  I am reaching an impasse I never thought I'd reach because I didn't know such an impasse existed: corporate/administrative versus production. These are two very, very different aspects of the film and entertainment world. At some point you sort of have to go with one or the other; they are very different skill sets and your potential employer will wonder where your true allegiance lies (how do I know? It fucking happened to me). I began in production, which is the physical making-of the movie. But with the EA job I dove head-first into the administrative world of what are called "desk jobs" (I know, super random name, right?). I've reached a point of contention because I enjoy production work more, but I enjoy the security of a desk job more. I could honestly swing either way-- like your mom-- if I knew which avenue was a faster track to that numero uno goal of writing for TV. My brain tells me it's the corporate side, but my scrappy vindictive production side is crossing her arms and huffing, "Well you don't KNOW that." 

If there has ever been fodder for a debate about the best point of entry for "breaking in," this is that fodder. I invite one and all to write their opinions and experiences on this in the comments section.

I am your fodder.

I had a surprising number of bites in the first few days I applied to things, booking 3 interviews in the span of a week. The first one was an absolute trip because it was for an EA gig at... bum ba da dum... dum da da dee dum... ya ta ta ta... Paramount Studios.

Needless to say, I rolled up to the lot feelin' like a straight up G.

And, dear friends, for that one brief moment in time, I truly was.

...'Cause I was OFFERED the job!

 Champagne on me, right?

Well...

Not exactly. From the second I began that interview I knew I had stepped into something intense. You know your work environment might not be so great if your interviewer makes a point of telling you at at least six individual moments, "If you are not aware of every single thing that is going on, you will get run over." You could almost see the blood flying from his mouth. So I spent a few days entrenched in the "let me think about it" process that went something like this:

"It's a job at Paramount."

"But that dude seems a little intense. Or like, a lotta intense."

"Yeah, but, it's a job at Paramount."

"And you'll be expected to know how to do copious numbers of things you've never done before and master them within an impossibly small timeframe."

"I'll take that chance, it's a job at Paramount."

"You'll also be basically on-call and live in constant terror of being hit up by your boss at bizarre hours of the night."

"I could maybe do that for a job at Paramount."

"I mean, what do we even know about this guy? His name hardly comes up on Google searches."

"But on my resume I can say I worked at Paramount."

"You'll also be horribly miserable and stressed out and overworked moreso than at your other job."

"It doesn't matter, I'll network with other people while I'm eating lunch. At Paramount."

"Who knows how long you'll even be there? The last dude was fired."

"I don't care, 'cause it's Paramount."

"Jessica, you have presented both sides of this case to multiple people and everyone has told you it's not worth it to work in an environment that antagonistic. Don't do it."

So I told the man I'd think about it some more. This was, however, apparently a tip-off to him that I was not ready to handle the rigor of this job. And you know what, homie was probably right. As fricking cool as it would have been to work on the Paramount lot, I very likely would have, as the oracle foretold, been "run over." Long story short, I didn't end up landing the job and my relief is hardly a secret. In my book of memoirs this chapter will be titled, "The Time I Got (and Lost!) a Job at Paramount."

Now that I've had my little backdoor bragging moment... other pokes in the fires, you ask?

Well, earlier this week I had an interview for a mind-numbing receptionist job at a talent agency, which is actually a thing people do to break into the industry. But I didn't tell enough beige lies so I didn't get that one. Tomorrow I have an interview for a personal assistant gig to a TV director, which would be an absolute dream come true if he didn't live 30 some-odd miles and 60 some-odd minutes from my home. I also spoke to an actress who runs an acting school and is looking for an assistant, so that could potentially be a thing (...deja vu?). At some point I was told about a job as a nanny ("Personal Assistant" the resume will say) for an adolescent actress who travels internationally on a regular basis. That would be fun, since I actually jive with kids pretty well, and I'll deal with Varuka Sault if it means I get an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas. But it ultimately boils down to what's the best career move.

Do I know?
Does anyone know?
No.
So.

I'm still jobless. But having a great time. Everyone should quit their jobs during the summer. The end.

Still Rolling: The Low-Budget Feature that Shouldn't but Did Anyway

Dear Blogger.com,

I completely understand if you want nothing to do with me. After I abandoned you, and left you to host 50 blog posts all by yourself, it's a wonder that you'll even give me the time of day. But I've returned, baby. And I promise never to abandon you again, unless I sign onto another heavy duty film shoot, in which case, I will completely abandon you again and come crawling back when I'm bored or feel obligated to write.

You see, Blogger, May was a trying month for me. It all began two weeks into April, when pre-production became a WHAT THE SHIT IS GOING ON-fest. Suddenly I was ripped from my desk, forced to gather up what office supplies I could carry into a heinously ugly prop purse with cow print, and do the hardest administrative work I've ever done in what I can only describe as a shanty production office. Every day I essentially had to build and deconstruct my office, setting up fold-out tables and chairs and hauling a heavy-ass printer to and from the car each day. I thought I was going to die.

I LUMPING HATE THIS!!!

And then, production happened.

And suddenly all the feelings of why I love film and film production flooded in. I was working in a team setting. I was getting to think of my feet.  I was up and constantly moving. I was finding small opportunities to be creative. I was talking major walkie jargon. I was low-key stuffing my face with craft services. And I was strategizing shit like it was Risk.

Except I didn't lose friends after it was over.

 The word for it is "thriving." For all the waiting and date-pushing and wondering if this project would even get up off the ground, I finally got to be a part of a feature film. And I loved it.

That's not to say I loved every minute of it. Some times were hard. There were days I just wanted to book it at 90 mph out of Simi Valley and go hide under my bed. I had to deal with being antagonized by one or two higher-ups, sitting on the ground tied up in computer cords in the sun and be generally uncomfortable for 3 weeks, being forced to arbitrarily "fire" an unpaid PA who was smart and hardworking, and trying to reconcile doing what needed to be done versus doing what my boss was telling me to do.

There were lots of on-set atrocities and brands of unprofessionalism I have never seen before-- and consider that I am coming from a background of only student and short films. For Chrissake, two consecutive 10-hour turnarounds when we kicked into overtime on both days?! Illegal, unprofessional, and just kinda not cool.

Soooo deets. Deets. Everybody wanna get those deets. It's kind of hard to give that especially when I'm not sure how much information to risk publishing online, but what I can do is isolate some memorable moments.

17 Isolated Memorable Moments

caution: some name-dropping ahead

Because I learn  from my employers

1. Being on set the first day on a remote ranch in Santa Clarita where we had zero cell reception, thus forcing the entire crew to share a single land line on a phone that could not have been made before 2002. Oh, and for about a solid half hour the line was tied up by the ranch owner talking to someone on the other line.
2. Being asked to drive the director's car around the neighborhood just so the air conditioning would be cold enough when she got back in the car.
3. Watching gargantuan Lou Ferrigno hold up a small, fluffy white dog and recite the line, "I've got a surprise for you!"
4. Watching gargantuan Lou Ferrigno hold up Verne Troyer like a baby.
5. The director needing dogs for a scene and literally wandering around the mall parking lot calling out to people with dogs if they would let us borrow them for our movie.
6. Meeting Paul Sorvino and deciding that he and I probably wouldn't be very good friends.
7. Meeting Jim O'Heir and deciding that he and I need to be friends.
8. Hearing the director shout angrily, "That was perfect! We should have shot that! Why didn't we shoot that? Somebody tell me why we didn't shoot that!" when it's her job to call action.
9. Watching the 1st AD try to get the lead dog to bark by getting on all fours and making growling sounds
10. Participating in the ongoing joke of everyone shouting "Still rolling!" because for whatever reason we almost never cut between takes.
11. Having a new sound mixer come fill in on the last day and take room tone... and seeing everyone simultaneously realize that the first guy did not once take room tone throughout the entire shoot.
12. The day we shot the epilogue which calls for several Australian Shepard puppies being put up for adoption, so we put an ad out on Craigslist to borrow puppies. Sure enough, some dude drove a bunch of cute fluffy puppies to set and generated a lot of distractions because everyone wanted to pick them up... our lead actress even adopted one!
13. Buying the entire crew "second meal" by making the world's most epic late-night In n' Out run:



34 BUGERS AND FRIES PLZ

14. Stopping by a Taco Bell drive-thru on this same run to get a vegetarian option, but the line was so long we waited about 10 minutes before realizing we had to get back to set. Unfortunately, by that point about 4-5 other cars had lined up behind us. So the Production Coordinator and I got out and went up to each of their windows and said there was an emergency and we had to get out of the line. We looked official because we were still wearing our walkie head-sets. One guy even asked me, "Are you with the police??" And sure enough the four cars backed out for us. It was a magnificently choreographed feat that almost ended in a fight breaking out between two cars.
15. The point at which we needed one dog to bark to make the lead dog bark, but in order to make that dog bark we needed a third dog to make him bark. So in all we had a chain reaction of three dogs barking at each other.
16. Hearing Judd Nelson say that this film was a sign he should go into retirement. 
17. Unwinding after a long 13-15 hour day of shooting by joining the crew in the bed of the grip truck and drinking beer.

You can sort of paint the picture from there. I'm trying not to be too sprawling with my explanations because I had a feeling that this would be a beefy blog, so I'll try to wrap things up.

So beefy. So bloggy.

What I really want to pen down is my learning experiences from this project. Yes, let's all gather around the campfire and have a come-to-Jesus moment about learning and partaking in "invaluable opportunities." I'm sure we'll all feel better that way.

Shit I Learned from this Project

1. Name dropping is a snowball effect leading to success. You tell a casting agent, "So-and-So is attached to the project," and then they're more inclined to pass it on to their client Such-and-Such. And then you've got both So-and-So and Such-and-Such on the project, so the next agent will be even more likely to recommend it to their client Shake-and-Bake.
2. Always over-budget. Not that I didn't know this before, but I've never seen an aftermath quite so disasterous. It would have been funny if it hadn't involved my paycheck.
3. On set, food is politics. The food you serve your crew is a symbol of how much you appreciate them. Oh, and if you serve them all the same so-so food and then go off and get something better for yourself during lunch break, don't be confused when people think you're a total D-bag.
4. Some actors are total divas when they haven't earned the right to be.
5. Some actors are total divas when they have earned the right to be.
6. Some actors are not at all divas even when they have earned the right to be.
7. Lying is an inevitability in this industry; the true deal-maker is the tact with which you do it
8. Always ask for stuff. Sometimes people give it to you even though you have no reason to ask for it in the first place.
9. In that vein, keep track of how much money people owe you. Most of them are not nice enough to simply give you what you're due.
10. TRULY, the only difference between working on a feature and a short is the length of time you spend doing it. Everything else is pretty much the same.
11. For all the disgusting corruption that exists in making a movie, there are also plenty of people who will have your back and truly think like a team.
12. Being an Associate Producer means absolutely nothing.
13. Always get room tone!

OH AND bonus lesson: don't tell your boss you're planning on quitting unless you're prepared for that to be your last day. I formally quit working for this production company last Tuesday but agreed to stay on until late June. Perfect, just enough time for me to start putting out feelers and resumes, right? Well, it would have been, until I got a call Saturday morning saying that a new girl would be starting immediately and I didn't need to come in Monday.

COOL

SUPER COOL

COOLER THAN  A CUCUMBER

COOLER THAN THIS ICE CUBE

COOLER THAN THE PACIFIC

Yep, so I'm alternating between sending out resumes and twiddling my thumbs these days, and doing my share of pity-pleas for work while I'm basking in #funemployment. But you want to know something awesome? While this job may have taken an extraordinary emotional toll on me, sucked away my energy and social life, paid me atrociously little, and not even left me with a good reference... I worked at a production company for a year!

That's a major foot in the door with lining up another assisting gig! So yay. Yay for life being mysterious and challenging. Still rolling.

Moving a Shootie

Hey, so I realize I haven't existed on Blogger for over a week, and that's because I've been in heavy pre-production-- and as of today, production!

SPEEDY FILM VOCAB SESH
Pre-production: the god-awful nitty gritty scheduling/coordinating/hiring/permit-filing tediousness of preparing to shoot. Pre-production is like the nasty amass of bugs that make up the Oogie Boogie Man's insides.

My bugs! My bugs!

Production: The awesome fantastical act of actually being on set and solving problems using wooden boxes and gaff tape instead of permit applications and wire transfers.

Obviously, you can tell what aspect of film I prefer. Some people are all about pre-pro (the shortened film-savvy way of talking about pre-production), but to that I say no-pro. I absolutely hate pre-production, which is why I will never be a good producer. I'd much rather be the weird production designer who stands in the corner and spends 15 minutes rolling a pair of boots in the mud so they look like they've been in use for years*

*has actually happened, and not just with boots.

Today, and for the next 17 days, I will not be a producer OR production designer. I will be the... wait, what the fuck am I? 

On sets, roles are usually very specific and have specific responsibilities attached to them. Such as:

Director: Instruct the actors, approve all choices made by the cinematographer, gaffer (lighting person), production designer, costumer, etc.
1st AD (Assistant Director): Draw up schedules and call times; keep everything on schedule and timely; know where everyone is on set and where they need to be next
2nd AD: Print sides (the scenes being done that day); alert cast and crew of call times; accommodate talent
Boom Operator: Be really tall

 I, however, am not any of the traditional on-set roles. I'm the director's assistant, which, from my experience today, seems to be a combination of 2nd AD, UPM (Unit Production Manager), PA (Production Assistant), and random liaison between the director and whoever she feels like talking to who's out of ear shot. I was actually pretty cool with this role. I got to walk around with a walkie and headset and engage in the fun and gratuitous jargon of film production. You can tell everyone feels super cool when they cross their arms, lean over to the 2nd AC, and mutter something like, "We gotta dirty up that frame to match eyeline. Anyone got eyes on grip? Someone's gotta fly out that genny in 5 or we'll have to call grace." So obnoxious, right? YEAH EXCEPT IT'S SUPER FUN. Film lingo ain't got shit on those decoder activities on the back of cereal boxes. You can convey a 20-word sentence in like 4 made-up film terms!

I need to hit the sack so I'm going to leave you hanging with that small, completely unbeneficial bit of information, but I'm hoping I'll have another opportunity or two throughout the shoot where I'll be able to give more mini-updates.

Oh yeah, today overall: was good. We went 1 hour over the 12 hour maximum workday, but people were generally okay with it and we were fed a second meal which isn't typical, so it was aight. The talent were super chill guys and it was funny to see how well they worked together. Who was on set today, you ask? I'm not sure if I'm at liberty to say, but one of them is associated with one of the all-time greatest freeze frame moments in movie history-- let's just say he has a look that says: "Don't you forget about me." The other one is as incredible as he is hulky (the original).

It's not name-dropping if I don't drop their names. Good night.