New Year's Resolutions

It's getting to be that time again, when people are coming together for the holidays, eating and drinking to excess, and making up goals to better themselves in the coming year.  There are several ever popular resolutions to make, i.e. lose weight, exercise more, read more, spend less time on the internet, etc.  We are all guilty of them.  I don't know about you, but I have never met a single person who stayed committed to their New Year's resolution past January.  This year will be different.

For the first time that I can remember (maybe in history?) I have a real, no kidding around resolution.  This year, my Gamma (only THE best grandmother in the world) unearthed my Papa's book of recipes.  My aunt has the original, and my mom has a copy.  I made the decision to take it to FedEx Office and have it bound, so that I can give out copies as Christmas gifts.

While researching binding options and pricing, I came across a company that would allow me to actually create a professionally made cookbook.  Through them, I could turn my Papa's recipe book into my own adapted cookbook, complete with pictures of him, and glamor shots of the food.  So, my New Year's resolution is to adapt and cook every recipe (and hopefully persuade my photographer friends to photograph some of them, by enticing them with free meals) and turn it into a beautiful, finished product.  And, as you might have guessed, I'll be blogging about my adventures, a la Julie & Julia, a movie that re-awakened my passion for cooking like never before. 

Papa's nickname for me.  It means "life." Forever emblazoned across my back.  :)

Apparently, Cats Become Stranger With Age...

I have to start this by saying how truly, deeply I love my cat.  I got her and her sister (who passed about two years ago) when I was 8 years old.  When I left for college, my parents decided that the cats now belonged to them, but make no mistake, they're MINE.  Now that I've been at home for a while, my baby has returned to me.  She even sleeps in my closet, reminiscent of Abigail Breslin's line in Raising Helen; "closet smells like Mommy."

This was a bag of tortilla chips.

I should also preface this by explaining to you that her sister was strange from the get go. For example, she ate with her hands, and didn't run with her knees.  And, for a cat, she was obscenely clumsy.  She could jump on a table and slide off the other end.  She would get her claws stuck in the couch while trying to run away.  You could tip her like a cow, and she'd just fall over.  And she ate bread.  To her credit though, she did figure out how to open my bedroom door, which isn't even a lever-style knob.

Strange cat #1: Baguette

Her best impression of an ostrich.

  
Now, at age 16, my other cat has started to exhibit strange behaviors as well.  Maybe she's channeling her sister.  For example:

• She talks more often.  And by more often, I mean pretty much all the time.  Especially when she is displeased.
• I once dropped a small Cheeto right by her foot.  She ate it.
• When she wants to be pet, she comes over, and reaches her paw out and lightly touches you, as if to say "Hey. I'm here now.  Feel free to begin my massage."
• She has tried to climb up my legs (resulting in a very painful puncture wound on my hip) while I'm brushing my teeth.
• She sits on my lap when I'm doing my make-up in the morning (which would be really sweet if it wasn't an attempt to pull me away from whatever I'm doing and focus on her, because she is obviously the most important part of my life).

She even killed a rat (and kindly left it on the floor of our entry way).  She also periodically has what my mother likes to call "a nutty," which basically means she darts around the house as though she's just been given an overdose of intravenous caffeine.

But I can't help it.  I love her adorable little self to pieces.  Even if she is a crazy old lady.

Strange cat #2: Bandit

One of her most favorite sleeping positions.

She's my lil' princess!

Feeling all theatre-y...

Maybe its the weather, maybe its the fact that I am at the final countdown before the holidays... maybe it's the fact that "Singin' in the Rain" (The ULTIMATE movie musical) was on TV last week.  But I'm just in a theatre-y kind of place at the moment.

Now that I have basically finalized my New Year's Eve plans (I will be down in San Diego at the opening of "The Maiden's Prayer" put on by my favorite men over at Triad Productions) I am feeling a little nostalgic.  Remembering my days at SDSU, taking acting classes, and working on shows, and sitting at the ever entertaining benches (where if you stand there long enough you will likely see someone break out in song, a fight scene, or a dance number) makes me wonder why, with so much talent in the world, does no one put on an honest to god movie musical anymore.  They keep trying ("Chicago," "RENT," "Burlesque") but nothing compares to the real deal.


As I've said before, I was brought up in the world of theatre, and I am what they used to call a "triple threat."  I can act, I can dance, and I can sing, because those were almost requirements back when movie musicals ruled the silver screen.  Not so much anymore.  To prove to you that musical theatre, however campy it may be, should be revived, I have supplied you with links!  You will all be converts after watching these, I just know it.

*credit*

A few weeks back, on an episode of (what else?) Glee called "The Substitute," a number of teachers come down with a form of bird flu (all thanks to Sue) and so Mr. Schue's substitute Holly Holliday (played by the magnificent Gwyneth Paltrow) takes over the New Directions.  While she's at McKinley, hipping up the Glee club, Mr. Schue is at home, dreaming himself into his favorite feel better movie "Singin' in the Rain." 

*credit*

Watching him dance around with Mike Chang (Harry Shum, Jr.) was a real treat, and I commend them for sticking as close to the original choreography as possible.  However, as you are about to see, Donald O'Connor is a tough act to follow.  Enjoy!
 

Also, I think tap dancing is a lost art.  It's incredibly difficult (especially to make it look effortless) and when done right, the end result is nothing short of magical!  I give you, Moses Supposes, which can also be seen in "Singin' in the Rain!"

I'm Classy Like That...

So, if you read my last post, you know I'm losing my job.  Sad story, the industry is political, blah, blah, blah.

My bosses have asked me to make a few little notes here and there to pave the way for the new guy.  There's just something about that that rubs me the wrong way.  When I came into this job, they told me what to do, they helped out here and there, but mostly, I had to figure things out for myself.  Thank goodness their last PA had things like their grocery list saved on his computer, and was able to email them to me.  That was a big help.

Keep in mind, I work in an industry where, as my mother would say, "everyone thinks they're curing cancer."  Basically, that means that my job is to make sure that everything goes off without a hitch.  Perfection is expected of me, but as the new guy AND the lowest guy on the totem pole, perfection is impossible.  It's difficult, at times, to cope with the fact that I am not really allowed to screw up, but it is next to impossible NOT to screw up.  Shit happens.  Like parking tickets.  And cops who have nothing better to do than to write a speeding ticket for the last in a line of cars who are also speeding.  Last time I checked, that's called "keeping the flow of traffic."  But I digress...

Back to my original issue.  How come this guy has it easier than I did?  I'm willing to bet that since he's worked with them before, AND he has a penis, he will not catch nearly as much shit as I did when I started.  I mean, these guys were downright rude.  And I played cheerleader, and kept a smile on my face.  'Cause I'm classy like that.

So I wrote down instructions for different tasks.  How to order office supplies online, everything he needs to know about coffee, how to transfer calls on the multi-line phone (it took us about a week to figure it out), how to handle the petty cash envelopes, etc.  It almost felt like I was back in school, and writing my final essay on all of the testable material.  I'm even letting them keep the expandable file I bought to keep the petty cash organized (and separate from my own money).  'Cause I'm classy like that.

I also keep other paperwork organized in a larger expandable file. That I bought.  And it's pretty.  I'm taking that with me.  He can figure out his own filing system.  His boy brain probably works differently than my girl brain, anyway.

Needless to say, I'm feeling bittersweet about this situation (leaning toward the bitter side, if you couldn't tell).  On the up side, I won't have to work for these guys and deal with their ridiculous eccentricities anymore.  Down side, no job, two tickets, and more time spent cooped up at my parents' house.  I can definitely kiss any possibility of attending the premiere goodbye.  I probably won't even get an assistant credit, or special thanks on the film.

I do appreciate the opportunity I had, the learning experience, and of course, the fact that my voice will be part of the ambient sound in the film.  It was an extraordinary first entertainment gig, and in no way do I take it for granted.  'Cause I'm classy like that.

The Ugly Side of Nepotism...

I work in the entertainment industry.  I grew up eating, sleeping, and breathing theatre, film, and television.  Whether I was at a Christmas party with several industry names in attendance, helping backstage at benefit performances, or actually on the stage, this is what I was meant to do with my life.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with how the entertainment industry operates, I'll tell you that almost no one got here on merit alone.  Basically everyone in entertainment knew someone, who knew a guy, who knew this other guy, who worked for someone important.  They went through the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon and got their first job in the mail room (or whatever other bottom rung job was available), and worked their asses off to get where they are now.  Or they had a dad or an uncle that handed them their first job on a silver platter.

I personally tried to do it myself, pushing my resume on all kinds of job databases, before I took the Six Degrees route.  Luckily, my first bottom rung job has been to be a Production Assistant for a bunch of editors on a major motion picture.  I'm a girl in a boys club, and I have managed (a few panic attacks later) to hold my own pretty well.  Last week was particularly difficult, starting with a panic attack over thinking I lost my badge and my parking pass (which turned up under the driver's seat of my car), and ending with a $343.00 parking ticket so that the men I work for could have coffee they no longer wanted. That's how it goes.  They say "jump," I say "how high?"

Come Monday, I had basically recovered from my meltdowns, and was having your average day, when at the end of the evening, they dropped the bomb on me.  As of two weeks from now, the show is going on hiatus for the holidays.  It is at this point, that I will no longer be of service.  I have been replaced by someone working for one of Big D's other sons.  He can no longer keep this guy (who is a guy) so he pawned him off to Daddy.  Since this guy has worked for them before, and actually wants to be in editorial, it only made sense.  Of course, that leaves me, once again, jobless.  Merry Christmas.

That being said, I do understand the situation.  They apologized for having to do this to me, and softened the blow in every way they could.  And as strange as it may sound, I have grown a little attached to these guys, and I will miss their little eccentricities.  So I sat there, head held high, with a smile on my face to show that there were no hard feelings.  That's showbiz.  Them's the breaks, kid.

In-Office Bowling...

Hello Wonderers!!

Instead of moaning and groaning about the really unfortunate chain of events that ended my work day last night, I thought I would tell you about this new awesomely strange game I get to play at work.

The lights in our office are on an automatic motion sensor.  After a while, when there's no movement out in the front of the suite (and most of the time, there isn't) the lights go out.  My boss, "Big D" (gotta love this industry) really hates it when it's dark, so whenever the lights go out, I have to make movement happen for the little motion sensors so the lights go back on.  Instead of playing stand up/sit down all day, we have figured out a much more effective (and WAY more fun) method of turning the lights on.

We went through many ideas (stand-up/sit-down, paper airplanes, etc.) before coming up with the perfect solution.  In-Office Bowling.

Among our office decorations, we have a big work out ball.

The size was very important, because if it were smaller, it might not be detected by the motion sensor.  Basically, there are no pins or points or rules.  It's not really much of a game.  But it does mean that every so often, I get up from my little desk, and granny-roll the ball down to the other side of the suite.  I apologize for the darkness, and the size....

 

So there you have it.  In-Office Bowling.  Ta and da.