PS, Florida?

It was OK, as OK as spending every waking minutes for 5 days with my mother can be. It was when I got home that it got worse. More on that later if I feel like talking about it (and when there's not a huge delay when I'm typing on here -- am I the only one that happens to? Type for a few seconds them wait like 3x as long for the words to catch up?) Anyway, let's just say that the woman is crazy and I don't know if I can take it anymore.

If small quizzes are quizzies, what are small tests?

Bored on a Friday night. Not sure if it's because I'm broke (what I tell myself) or because I don't have any friends... So I'm taking online quizzes.

After 3 beers, I have an IQ of 142.

And this is my superpower:
"Say what? Your superpower is ANIMAL COMMUNICATION! Many people pretend to talk to their pets, but you can really, truly do it. Have you ever mimicked the monkeys or the penguins at the zoo? If you have, you're on your way to becoming a great animal communicator, just like Aquaman with his fishy friends. Some people think animal communication has to be vocal. Not so. Any superhero knows that mental telepathy is where it's at. So while barking at Fido might be fun, it's not the practice you really need. Instead, try thinking like an animal. When you get into the mindset of, say, a squirrel, you'll be able to truly communicate with one. Of course it's a two way street, because you'll be able to understand everything they say back, too. And they've got a lot to tell! Imagine talking to a walrus about the deep ocean or to an ant about life underground. Once you've perfected your superhuman gift, you'll never be without interesting conversation."

Me-OW.

Well, this one was disappointing -- what car matches your personality?:
"You're all about the substance of relationships, not the flash and panache. You're focused on spending time with people and on doing the things you want to do more than the way in which you do it. Sometimes you have to deal with limited resources, but that doesn't mean your life can't be exciting and rich. Just the opposite. You're probably a champion for the underdog, too. Where most people see flaws, you see the character that brings people, and even cars, to life.

So what's the perfect car for your personality? Anything with a history that can get you, well, from here to there, in comfort."

I thought they were gonna tell me WHAT CAR. You know, "you're a '67 Mustang!" I KNOW I drive a car that gets me from here to there (sort of).

Speaking of which, I'm thinking of calling Car Talk. I think I have an electrical problem. I'm hoping someone will tell me it can easily be fixed by cleaning the connections to my battery... Or something equally cheap. The things I can think of: 1) the windshield wipers are OUT OF CONTROL. THEY WON'T STOP. Usually I eventually get them to settle down (though they'll kick back on while I'm scraping my windshield in the morning and scare the crap out of me). 2) the light that illuminates on the shifter what gear I'm in is out. I've only been driving an automatic for a couple years, so I have to turn on the dome light when I start out in the dark or I end up in neutral wondering why I won't go (another good reason to drive a stick -- you KNOW what gear you're in, baby!). 3) I replaced my rear passenger side blinker twice in probably 6 or 8 months (never did that once in 9 years with my last car). 4) my fan only works on the top 2 settings -- bottom two are the same as "off." I feel like there are more things that I've become so used to I'm forgetting them now. I did have the fuse to the lighter blow, never had that in 9 years with the old one either. Anyway, those are my car woes -- not enough to HAVE to fix it, and I can't AFFORD to fix it, so that means I have to live with screaming at my wipers every morning to STOP! PLEASE JUST FUCKING STOP!

And my signature city? New York!:
"Whether you like to have lots of options at your fingertips or you like to be in a metropolitan environment that's buzzing with energy, the Big Apple is the perfect place for you. Maybe you like to mix and mingle at some of the edgiest restaurants, shops, and clubs in the world. Or maybe you like to be in the middle of it all — in the bright lights and big city.

One night could be dinner and a show on Broadway, a stroll through Central Park the next, or a trip to the Met the next. From Grand Central Station to Greenwich Village, New York's got some of the biggest and edgiest things to see and do anywhere in the world. No wonder a trendsetter like you would be right at home in the Big Apple."

(OK, I have to admit that from my answers, that doesn't make much sense. Maybe it's sponsored by the NY tourism industry. But I'll take it!)

What color is my aura:
"We don't need a psychic to tell us that you're giving off a Sapphire vibe. People with blue auras feel everything strongly — you tend to get a little emotional at the drop of a hat. You're also deeply spiritual and introspective. Matters of the heart, mind, and soul are important to you, and your waters run as deep as the ocean. Nurturing by nature, you're likely a loving, supportive caretaker. That's why friends, family, and co-workers adore you. They know you're a good listener and always have great advice and a shoulder for them to cry on. In fact, if we had to find a fault, it's that you can be a tad too self-sacrificing. Remember that it's okay to say no sometimes. You forgive everyone else their weaknesses, so go ahead and forgive yourself for a little well-deserved selfishness. Indulge your creative side and do something artsy, or just take a break from being the world's counselor. You'll come back refreshed and ready for more."

Well. While I was hoping for green (don't know what they mean, green is just my favorite color), this is pretty damn right on. I mean, it's hard to sit here and agree that yeah, everyone ADORES me! And I don't know if I'm the world's counselor. But some of that is creepy.

I'll update if I come across anything else good (it just crashed Firefox on me, and although this came back, I'm taking it as a sign to shut up now!).

PS, the title is one of those things you just don't know why you remember -- there was a teacher in high school who called quizzes quizzies, and that's what people used to say. Dumb!

I'm going to Florida! Not sure it counts as a vacation in the sense that it's not somewhere I've been dreaming of going, but it does in that it should be relaxing. Hangin' with the mom and stepdad. Maybe catch Universal Studios. I have no need to ever go back to Disney World, so that's not an issue. Maybe a giant flea market!

Friday, July 30, 2049

Apparently that's when I'm going to die, according to deathclock.com. Sounds about right to me. Just putting that down for posterity so I can go back on my 72nd birthday and remind myself it's almost over.

Who the hell decided to settle in this god forsaken land, anyway?

I would also like to say that I went back to my inaugural blog back in February or March, where I was bitching that it was the coldest stretch in 11 years, not supposed to get above 0 for 86 hours straight. And I mentioned that in a few months I'd be bitching that it's so hot.

Well, IT'S SO HOT. OK, today it's really nice and it's getting cooler now. But for most of July and half of August (and it'll probably be back), it's been pretty much in the 90s. I'm sure there were a lot of upper-80s days, but WAY more 90s days than I ever remember. TONS. This while I am now no longer working in an air-conditioned office. Man, when it's 95 degrees with 70%+ humidity and you're either in an smelly, stuffy, airless warehouse putting up hot lights or outside in the direct sun (working with large pieces of black fabric, no less), mostly moving heavy things around and climbing ladders (which makes me sweat no matter what the temp is -- I'm CONFRONTING my fear of heights, getting AROUND it, but I'm far from OVER it), that adds up to a lot of damn sweat. I reached the point where I stopped caring if I looked/smelled gross pretty quickly, but it does get old.

So let the tomato throwing begin. I guarantee that in a few months I will bitch about the cold. That is what it means to be a Minnesotan.

Sleep? That's so 1987.

Not that much new to write about, but thought I would update that the 2 jobs this week went well. The 2 paying jobs, in addition to the 2 free jobs that I did over the course of 4 days. The thing with that is that, although my feature has weird-ass hours, when you mix the weird-ass hours of FOUR different jobs together, crap, man.

Friday night I got 3 hours of sleep between my late shoot, my inability to go to sleep immediately when I got home, and my early shoot the next day. Sat. night I got 5 hrs., which would have been OK if I had recovered from the night before... Sun. we had a dawn shoot, so we were there at 5 am. Did our thing then had about 6 hours off (was only able to take an off-and-on nap for 2.5 hours) and came back until midnight. However, I wanted to stay up as long as possible because of my overnight the next night, so I went to bed at 5 am -- over 24 hours with a 2.5 hour nap. Mon. night was overnight 9pm-7 or 8am. Had a couple hours to unwind, then went to my NEXT JOB at 11 am. At about 7:30pm started to get quite delirious, having been up for 27 hours. That is, the 2nd day in -- well, I can't count the days because it's hard to tell them apart, but my 2nd >24 hour day in maybe 4 days' time. Got 8 actual hrs. in that night. Then got up before 5 for a 14-hour day Wed. (which is really nothing at this point). Today was AWESOME -- we shot from 11am-3pm. And we were DONE. What the hell? So tonight I'm going out, just to make sure I'm not too rested for our 9am shoot tomorrow.

I really don't mind being tired and all, except that I know I'll get sick if I keep it up. Hopefully the last couple days will be OK, and then I'm back to having nothing lined up yet, so we'll see. I'd still rather do this and not sleep than any of my stupid day jobs.

What Babo lacks in mind power, he makes up for in love

"Babo will protect you. Having a bad day? Someone giving you a hard time? Babo's got your back. What Babo lacks in mind power, he makes up for in love. He will stick with you to the end, and when something scary happens, he will send you a nice greeting card from wherever it is he runs away to."

Beware: you are entering a long drawn-out ranty-rave about how just super great everything is, Pollyanna. Consider your ass warned.

A few years ago when I was having one of my notorious strings of bad luck (I think it was the time my grandpa died, my car died twice, and I fucked up my hand and had to go to the emergency room and later have my finger re-broken, all within one or two weeks), a friend gave me the above Ugly Doll keychain for luck. I used it until I got my widdle buh-buh (now giant cat-man Neko) last summer (when I had to hide everything of such kittenly temptation), but honestly, it was always just a cute trinket to me. Little did I know the power it held.

On Monday I was looking for something else and came across the ugly little thing (now kinda grubby) and stuck it on my purse zipper for the hell of it.

Tuesday, while out having a great time with my old work friends (and $.75 PBR pints? Gotta love suburbia), I got a call, a hopefully very lucrative job working on corporate videos for a locally based corporation. Hopefully as in maybe it will turn into a lot more work.

Then I got the check I'd been vaguely waiting for from cashing out my pension when I quit my job. Didn't really know when it would get here (they possibly only paid out twice a year, so I was thinking January), so I wasn't counting on it for anything. Not only was it here, but, uh, it was a LOT MORE than I had expected. Nice reward for my years of doorknob shit, I have to admit. And to clarify, this wasn't money I put in and am losing some of now, this was 100% contributed by my otherwise shitty employer.

Wednesday was fun, nothing terribly lucky, but it was the wrap party for the movie I just worked on and I had a very good time.

Then today I randomly got ANOTHER job that actually pays actual money. And anything local that pays (most of my paying stuff has been "passing through" TV and such) will hopefully lead to more work too. It was a referral by someone I respect, the girl who called me sounded really nice (good first sign that it won't suck), etc. So hooray. Pays well too.

Later I went to a little industry happy hour with a friend and might have helped her get some work (introduced her to the people I knew there), had a good time, and got back on the freebie but fun job tomorrow that I thought I wasn't going to be able to do. Not only that, they were so sweet about being happy I was going to be there. The one who I saw at the happy hour called after I left to see if I could work because someone else would be gone, and was really happy I said yes. So then I called the director (or producer, I forget now, oops) to tell him I was coming after all, and he got all happy and told me I was a bright spot in his crappy day! How cute is that? So those last bits aren't really luck, but it was a good day.

Anyway, I'm scared to death now that I'm going to step on a crack, break a mirror, or something else to end my string of goodness. But it's been an awesome week, and if things stay this good, my head just might explode.

Well, this fucking bites.

I was in a bar about a mile away from this bridge when it happened (and have proceeded to get a little drunk, sorry). Hadn't driven across said bridge in a week... Which is a little creepy since I can't remember the last time, before the shoot that brought me to the area last week. Not that it's about me and my non-close-calls. My landlord was the first person to ask if I was OK, via text message, and I was like, OK, me? Sure, why? OHHHHH, because people like US were ON that thing. Not that I didn't realize it, but that's when it really hit. Now I'm worried about everyone. Not that it matters whether I knew the affected people or not -- I got worry enough for everyone.

Things like this don't happen in Minneapolis.

Update:

It's 2:45 pm and I'm SO BORED. I've done my resume, and I guess I should try to find random people to e-mail it to (got it ready for tomorrow, though). I haven't spoken to another person since Sunday pretty much... I've spent about half of my waking hours for the past 3 days online... HELP!

Well, right now I'm going to go scoping out free stuff I found on craigslist. There is a green old-school metal cooler on someone's curb that I'm going to go check out. Yeah, it's sad. I don't have room for this crap, but at least it's a free passtime. (Except the gas...)

Floorball tonight -- I haven't been in at least a month -- but it's supposed to be a high of 96 today, so I really don't want to. If it was inside/beer night I might, but it's outside/no beer/direct sun/sweatfest. I just spent the past 3 weeks sweating nonstop...

I better figure out something to do with my time, because I have 10 more days until that AC job starts. I will never make it!

Boring updates on my life because the only thing in my life is film work right now

All right. 13 Hours is done! Which by the end was getting a little exhausting, so although I'll miss it, it is nice to sleep once in a while.

Here's something: I was getting so pissed off at the guys not listening to me by the end that I almost walked out more than once. This is not good because a) these boys are really nice -- they're not jerks, they were just ACTING like jerks (and I asked other people to make sure it wasn't my imaginiation/crabbiness), and therefore b) if I can't deal with them, I'm not going to make it. I was getting pretty upset.

But then I got an offer that may have made up for it, or at least distracted me: we're doing reshoots for Open, which I worked on with a bunch of these people last summer, and the DP on both Open and 13 Hours asked me if I want to AC for him on Open! Uh, ya know, sure, why not...? ;D Fuck yeah! And to all those naysayers who said dolly grip won't get you any closer to camera work, suck me, because it has! I should be freaked out because this is 16mm, but the DP teaches at MCTC so he's used to teaching, I know I'm cool with the idea of film (it sounds to me like being scared of effing up film is most people's main problem), and he's going to teach me how to load before we start. It'll be an easy AC job, the camera is pretty much all on tripods so there's little or no focus pulling or racking or whatever... (I have a lot to learn.) Anyway, this is me being psyched.

I also have an interview with people from a large locally based corporation that produces its own commercials in-house. ;) That's tomorrow. Gotta spend today preparing.

And, without going into detail, I got a couple of unexpected paychecks last week. It's like 2 days' worth of pay (bad pay for 2 days, really), but it's money I was not expecting, so that's pretty cool. Still, haven't made any significant money. I think after Open I'm going to have to get a job.

Thirteen Hours

I know I should blog... But I'm so tired! But I will. I'm working on a feature -- unpaid, but I'm a grip. It's FUN. The material is slightly lacking, I must admit, but I still actually want to see the movie. Regardless, the crew (AND CAST, fer once) are the most fun I've worked with. Actually, I've worked with a lot of them before. But it's funner than ever! I drive home with a sore face from laughing so much. Oh, and we do some work and shit too. I've been on dolly because the DP thinks I'm good at it, which is pretty sweet. (Someone else was doing it first, then they had me try it, and now they only let me! If I'm working on something else, it's all like, hey, where's Kristina, someone else do that, she has to come dolly grip!) The tough one was no track (and the wheels are always slightly wobbly even when locked, so you have no choice but to steer), fast backward move into a space with only about a foot on each side of us without hitting something (a car and a pillar), with a retarded PA wrangling my cables (so I had to avoid tripping over them -- the cables AND the retarded PA). And it may not have been my BEST work, but it WORKED! The rest has been good. I love it.

As much as I'd love to do this forever... I really need some paying work. Stat.

But I'm having a fucking good time, and I'm not doubting my decision to quit the doorknob job for a second. That place sucked. PAST TENSE NOW, thank you very much.

Oh, I tried to get OSHA to investigate them, and they said they would certainly do an inspection based on what I told them -- IF I was a current employee. Fucking government, the fact that I was surprised by that just goes to show what a dumbass I am... I told them repeatedly that I could not report the place when I worked there as I WOULD have been fired, much like the girl who was fired after filing a sexual harrassment complaint. Fucking shit. I give up. They're going to Send A Letter, though. Super awesome! That'll teach those mofos to poison their employees!

Oh well. Bygones. I do miss some of my coworkers, but really, I mean, not that I don't miss THEM, but I don't miss working with them if it means doing that instead of this. And I'll see them. So I guess I don't miss actually working with them. At least not as much as I thought. I will stay in touch.

Damn, I'm fuckin' pooped.

Happy 7-7-7!

If 2007 is the year of Kristina, you'd think today would be THE DAY of Kristina. I haven't had anything particularly amazing happen to me. Yet. I can't imagine what that would be, anyway.

S & D are at the wedding, hopefully drunk at the reception by now! It was awesome to have D stay for a few days. I -- LOVED it. He's -- hilARious. Now S has to come for a visit too!

If all goes well (which I actually don't think it WILL, but there's still a part of me that hopes), I should be busy through August. But... I have a 3-week unpaid job coming up (I hope NOT to be there for 3 weeks, but will work whenever I don't have paying work), then in Aug. we do pickup shots for the feature I did last summer. Between there, the one I'm not holding out much hope for, is a 4 week STRAIGHT (as in, no days off) paying job. The day rate is good, too. But. That starts in a little over a week and I applied about 2 weeks ago. Haven't heard back. Not a good sign. Sigh.

Other than that... I need to find paying work! Not panicking yet by any means, just need to kick myself in the ass and do it. I like doing all this free grip stuff, and it's valuable, but it doesn't pay the bills quite yet. The good thing is that it will eventually pay them, and better than most things I'd be doing in the biz. Still, I can't devote all my time to free stuff. Much as I wish I could.

It's ungodly outside. Upper-90s and humid. YUCKY. It's supposed to "cool down" to mid-80s by mon., but I think it's going to be a rough shoot. It's all in a warehouse, so I'm assuming it's not AC'd. But I'm also assuming it's at night (it's a horror movie where scary things happen while some bad guys are hiding in a warehouse -- touted as "Reservoir Dogs with ghosts"), so that should help a wee.

The weather is making my crabby, though.

I don't have to fuckin' get up tomorrow

'Cept I will.

Because Donnie is coming!

And I need to e-mail people.

But.

I can stay up late effing around on my 'puter if I want.

Because I don't have to go to work!

HOW old am I?

Seriously. Not to harp on this, because I think I've mentioned it before, but it's getting a little ridiculous, and I want to know what the hell, please.

Today I was talking to a film dude and he asked how old I was. I hesitated... I've actually decided not to volunteer that information, since I'm newer at this -- best to let people think I'm younger than think of me as an old lady starting out where the 22-year-olds are. But I did tell him I'm 30, and he was all, "shut up!" And I was all, "nuh-uh, serious!" (No, I don't talk like that. That was sarcasm. That's NOT why people think I'm 12.)

Earlier this week I was playing floorball and we were picking teams. The guy we all knew to be the oldest one there suggested we go by age -- oldest and youngest to start with. A few people looked at me, although some know my age. The other contender for youngest said that would probably be me (I mean, me, not him referring to himself -- I GOTTA start using quotation marks more fastidiously). I said, uh, no, I'm pretty sure it's you, and asked his age. TWENTY-THREE. A Twenty-three-year-old thought I was younger than TWENTY-THREE.

Fuchrissake.

One of the first times I went to floorball, people asked if I was going to the bar with them afterward. Another of the young 'uns asked if I was old enough to drink. I assumed that was a joke and said aww, he's my new best friend, etc. Now I gotta wonder if he was FREAKING SERIOUS.

I mean, we all want to stay youthful (HA, I acutally just mistyped "useful" there -- freudian?), it's been pounded into our psyches by the magazines and such. I'd like to be a youthful 30, sure. BUT I AM NOT 22. I haven't been for some time. I'd LIKE to think I've had some life experiences in that time that have given me at least SOME essence of wisdom, even the hardships. (Don't get me wrong, I'm lucky for the extent of the hardships I've had in my life -- still, I HAVE had my problems.) Does NOTHING I've done show on my face? Hell, even 5 years of fucking doorknobs oughta get me something.

Anyway. I'm starting to get a little pissed off about this. Looking young is one thing, but people thinking you're hardly more than a child is upsetting. I KNOW it's partly my voice. This is why (OK, it's not WHY, but it doesn't help me change the fact that) I smoke. Maybe some day I will sound like a real grownup. But in the meantime, PLEASE, can someone tell me how to ACT MORE LIKE THE ADULT THAT I AM?

(NOTE: I do not mean that in any sense of the phrase that my mother would presume. I'm not going to poop out a kid or buy a house or whatever "grownups" are supposed to do. How can I be myself, yet be seen as an adult version of that self?)

Ha!

Ha ha ha haaa! Ha haaaa!


Ha ha ha haaa ha ha haaaaaha ha hahahahaaaa!


HA!

Sweeeeet justice and the few sources of excitement in my daily existence

They caught the little bastards. It was the first two little guys who were still in the rink that I yelled at first! One of the ones I KNEW was lying! (Although the leader was the cute wide-eyed innocent looking one who did the talking -- there's a punk in the making.) So I feel good that a) they got in trouble, b) I WAS FUCKING RIGHT, and c) that those little fucks are banned from the park from now on (per the park lady). She said they'd try to get my money back, but I said it's not a big deal, I'm just glad the little shits got in trouble. MAYBE one or two less grownup thugs in the making? Doubt it, but I gotta have the hope that something good will come of this besides a bunch of kids getting a pizza party on me (which is what they did with it -- I guess that's good thing #d -- they didn't buy their first crack pipe or anything. Almost touchingly wholesome, really).

It's hot, so I put my window AC in. GodDAMN that thing is loud, and it's right behind my head when I sit on my couch, making it very difficult to watch movies. Last night I was watching a French one with subtitles (Cache), so that was OK, then had to turn the AC off for my partially English movie (Babel). Tonight I watch Trainspotters (yes, FINALLY -- I've been yelled at many times for not having seen it yet) -- subtitles, turn of the AC -- or both??

Yesterday I went to Goodwill and got some actually really cool stuff! I highly recommend it. Some of their clothes aren't a great deal (most clothes are $5 -- sorry, that's too much for most of it, especially the t-shirt/men's undershirt that I just bought at Target brand-new for $10 for a 2-pack -- WTF?). But their t-shirts (excpet cheap undershirts, apparently) are mostly $2 each. I also found the coolest Japanese schoolkid backpack in brand-new condition for $3.

Today I go to garage sales and Ragstock. I need t-shirts for work now that I'm not dressing up anymore. Actual t-shirts, as in high neckline, as in I can do my job without flashing the world every time I bend over.

I wish I didn't have boobs. Ack, I typed that word again! Bleah!

I also need a large cooler with wheels (so I can be the bestest PA ever -- comes with own action cooler!) and two pitchers (I just learned how to make cold press, the loveliest of the coffee beverages).

So wow, those are the kinds of exciting things I have to talk about when I actually have a whole weekend to myself. Now you wish I was still harping on my film career, don't you? Bwaahahahahahaaaa.

FOUR MORE DAYS OF FUCKING DOORKNOBS (because I'm taking Wednesday off to make an egg commercial). Fuckin' sweet. My replacement starts on Monday, so I get to start training him. :P I really don't feel like training a new person and pretending I DON'T hate this place with a blinding passion, but then, he's gonna figure the place out soon enough. I was gonna say, "unless he's stupid." But even stupid people figure it out within a couple weeks.

A valuable lesson

Well, today I learned one. I went to the park to play floorball, and I left my purse right outside of the hockey rink where we play. Everyone else leaves backpacks, etc. there (no purses, I was the only girl), and you can see people standing UP behind the wall. And I was on the phone and running late and I just didn't think.

A bunch of little children were watching us for a few minutes, then helped themselves to the extra sticks and balls and started playing at the other end of the rink. After a few nervous looks amongst ourselves, we sort of non-verbally came to the consensus to be nice, I guess, and let them play, made sure they were safe and stayed out of the way where we might run them over.

We get done and I see my purse there. Just as a precaution, I check my wallet.

My cash is gone. I figure I had about $34 (I'm not 100% sure, unfortunately -- I think there was a 20, two 5's, and about four 1's). Not a huge sum, but in my current circumstances, that's groceries and "going out" money for a week.

Some of the kids were still there. I surprised myself with my bold demeanor and my ability to be stern, possibly harsh, but totally in control and not swearing (because based on past experiences with being burglarized, I wanted to freak out on their little asses). I marched up to the two still on the court and demanded to know which of their little friends stole money out of my purse. I don't remember the chain of events, but we ended up in a nearby corner of the park with the rest of them, asking them who took my money.

Those little shits just lied. Some other kids did it. Uh-huh. All but two looked innocent, but those two gave it away. One asked me if it was a $20 bill or something. If I'd had a little more presence of mind, I would have nailed her on that -- how did she know there was a 20? I pretty much gave up -- if I called the cops, the little shits would be home and in bed by the time the fuzz showed up. As I was walking away in disgust, a lady from the park walked up -- I just said it was my own goddamn fault and kept walking. I guess she told the other guys that those kids are a bunch of little thieves. The guys agreed later that the little fuckers were lying.

You know what pisses me off more than anything? That I left my fucking purse sitting out where a bunch of little fucking kids could get to it. And that there was nothing I could do about it, and they knew it. If I had taken one menacing step in their direction I'D be arrested, and the 8-10 or so of them could scatter if the cops actually did show up. And even if they caught them, what could the cops do?

And I'm disgusted that we were nice to these little shitheads. Next time, if there is a next time (some of the guys are talking about not going back, but honestly I say we just know better than to be trusting next time -- why give up our park?), one kid steps up to the side of the rink and I'm all over it like flies on shit, baby. Or whatever the phrase is. I'm not afraid of a bunch of little rat children.

THIS is why I'll never fucking breed. Although I'm sure this is a case of shitty parenting. But this is our future, guys. My friend was just telling me about the movie Idiocracy, the upshot of which is that the stupid people keep breeding like bunnies and the smart people, you know, focus on their careers instead of having children, and in 500 years our country is populated with a bunch of halfwits. Not so far from the truth.

I should address this too: part of the reason everyone went easy on them playing with our gear is that they were all black/latino. You know what? Fuck that, you steal my shit, I don't care if you're fucking Jon Benet Ramsey (pretty little white girl, aren't we supposed to love them bestest?). My early childhood was on the "wrong side of town," if my little town has one of those, and I know damn well I hung out with little white kids who would have done the same. In high school I hung out with a bunch of older white kids who I later found out were burglarizing businesses. So fuck that, don't mess with me and don't think I'm going to meekly walk away because you're a) 8, b) black, c) anything else that allegedly qualifies you for my pity. Or that, really, is supposed to make me feel guilty enough about who I am that I'm too afraid to speak out. Because you know what? Besides the odd Post-its from work and some signs in my rebellious days in high school, I've never stolen a goddamn thing in my life. Never even shoplifted a Tootsie Roll. You know why? I could say my parents told me not to, but the other kids' parents did too, I'm sure. They were mostly Catholic, the religion of guilt and prohibitions. I didn't steal stuff because I FUCKING KNEW IT WASN'T MINE AND IT WAS WRONG.

You know what else? It could have been way worse. They could have taken my whole purse, including my keys, my cell phone, my check card, my ID, my checkbook, my day planner (shit!) and oh, say in the case of the last motherfucker who stole my shit, things like keys to a coworker's house and directions to get there, my social security card, my bank info... Anything else? So I was fucking lucky it was only children who only know how to use cash and only took what they could hide on their persons. And, hey, they didn't take the keys and help themselves to my car.

But let this be a lesson to all: people suck. If there's anything they can take from you, you best assume they will. (Unless it's a case like my brother's mugging, where they in fact seemed only interested in beating the shit out of someone -- they took $8 from his wallet, but left his Discman on the ground next to his bloody body.) If you leave your shit unattended for any reason, it may not be your FAULT someone else's actions resulted in the loss of said shit, but you really have no one to blame but your own stupid naive-assed self.

Awright, I pose

I just realized I posted a couple of my most inane posts right after a certain goat/cat lady linked to me from her bloggedy blog. Which really just fuels the conversation she started about the whole blog phenomena. Do I suddenly think people are buyin' what I been sellin', and does/should it make a difference in what I post? Why or why not? Discuss.

However, if, like, Goatmaiden's mom suddenly picked this day to see what Ashcan-Rantings is all about, well, talking about almost puking into a wastebasket is probably not my best work. So skip that one, Goatmom, if indeed you are out there ;)

Here is my own weird thought of the day: my hands are starting to show their age. And I like it. Old hands are way prettier than plain old smooth ones. My veins stick out.

OK, so I thrive on the inane.

I might be working on commercials with giant eggs in them soon. And a Manhattan-based outfit is looking for a PA but didn't mention what day. Heh. Makes me less paranoid about typos on my resume.

NINE MORE DAYS of fucking doorknobs.

WTF

See below how I had a stomach ache last night -- I almost puked in my garbage can at work today. Food poisoning again? Something. I suddenly felt really nauseous, broke out in a cold sweat all over, and was shaky. Someone told me I looked terrible and I went in the bathroom and I was seriously green. Then it passed, but my legs ached all day. Pleah. I'm feeling better now than this morning, but still not great. I hate it!

Iowans are the wrost drivers

Family reunion was very fun -- so good to see everyone! My brother and I stayed in one of the worst hotels I've been in (and as I'm quick to point out, I've stayed in some of the worst hotels in the country -- I have LOW standards), but at least we had our own bathroom. With a shower. The house would have been a little crowded, plus grandma paid for our room, since we couldn't even afford that, let alone the Holiday Inn everyone else was staying at. Had to share a room with the bro, which was actually kind of fun. Not that we really did anything but watch TV -- no drunk-fests or deep conversations -- but it's good to spend time with him once in a while.

I don't feel so great right now. It could be because I had more sugar this weekend than I've had all year.

Cats survived the weekend alone, all 8 limbs still seem to be attached. I must admit that I do worry about my boys.

That's about all I have to say right now. It's really hot and my tummy hurts, so I think I'm going to watch a little Monty Python and go to bed.

Today I turned in

My letter of resignation!

It went pretty well. Word got around fast (I figured no one would tell anyone, and the day after I left, people would say, hey, I didn't know Kristina quit... Happened to a friend of mine who just left this place, actually).

I wasn't sure if I was going to tell them what I was going to do, but everyone asked, and I didn't really want to be a bitch about it, so I told them. Probably a good thing, really, because then it looks like I'm leaving just because of that and not also because I hate that place. Not that I don't WANT to tell them that, but I really am trying to take the high road.

Today was really busy, and again I was getting annoyed, even at the people I mostly like. They're concerned that I don't leave them a mess when I leave, yet I can't walk by them without them pulling me into a totally pointless conversation, and I can't get them to voluntarily help with anything (if I do extricate myself from said conversation, they continue it for another half hour), and I really don't want to put any effort on my part into asking them to please help with some of this shit. But for god's sake, when I tell you I have 18 jobs, shipments or follow-ups that I need to do ASAP (and maybe have time to do half of them today if I really, really, really book ass), don't assume I'm exaggerating -- that's an actual count I had at one point, and I later realized I had forgotten a couple of things on that list -- so can you please stop bugging me? It would be easier to just slack off and not do it, but I'm TRYING to be a good person here, people! Anyway, if it continues I'll just let it go and be a slacker. It's for their benefit that I'm trying to be good. And I guess just to have the knowledge that I'm a good person. Eh, I know I'm a saint for dealing with this place for as long as I have. ;) Who wouldn't screw off and do as little as possible after giving their notice?

So that's that. Haven't progressed too much with the film stuff yet, but now that I'm free to put myself out there as much as I want, that's the next order of business. Got a non-paying job tonight & the showing of Saturday's project on Thurs., then leaving town for the weekend for my family reunion -- ack! So I guess Wednesday I'll be making some phone calls. Or maybe Monday. Because luck will dictate that if I call people right before a weekend I'm not available, I'll get all kinds of offers I'll have to turn down for the weekend... Could be worse, I guess. Next week I talk to a rental house to see if they'll hire me to as a grip-truck-stocker so I can learn more about gripping. And maybe get a class-whatever license so I can drive the trucks.

I just wrote

My letter of resignation.

HA

HA

HA

!!

Being poor sucks

Man, you can't buy much with yer money these days. I'm trying to be poor, and it's harder than I thought. You really can't do anything, and it's really hard to eat healthy. I think I did a good job today. A lot of sandwiches and crackers (Triscuits and Wheat Thins on sale for $1.49/box!), but I got some pitas, hummus, tomato, cucumber and sprouts. My favorite sandwich (try it with roasted red peppers).

I'm also trying to go vegan, which I don't think will be 100% possible right now. I just saw a movie called Earthlings that was probably the most disturbing thing I've ever seen, addressing the way humans use animals, who are just as much earthlings as we are, for various purposes (food, pets, clothing, medical testing, etc.). And I feel horrible, because I was like, dammit, I'm going vegan. Then forgot and put cream in my coffee, then ate this or that because it was easier.

However, freelancing=poor, and I have to take advantage of free food as much as possible. So at home and at restaurants, I am vegan. At other people's houses (such as my family reunion next weekend, when my 80-year-old gramma has enough to worry about) and on shoots, I will be as good as possible but will still eat the occasional cheese. As everyone has pointed out, my not eating animal products won't actually make a difference. It's just my choice not to participate in that. Or at least to avoid it as much as possble.

This week I worked on an Ultimate Fighting Championship show, which was... Well, I made some money. For the most part it was pretty good, actually, but there were some issues at the end which left me with a pretty bad taste. (They tried to passive-aggressively -- without even coming out and telling me this was what they expected me to do until I asked about 3 times how exactly they were planning to do this when they were leaving at 5 am -- get me to take 5 or more large boxes to FedEx on my own time after the shoot was done and I was done being paid. I couldn't do it because I was working, and frankly was glad I had the excuse, because the truth is that's bullshit, yet they weren't too happy that I couldn't do it. Hey, hire me for 4 days instead of 3 if there's still stuff to be done the day after you leave, but don't expect me to take another day off work to do your shit for free. Or to do your shit for free when I was planning to sit at home on my ass anyway. Or even to do your shit for free when it's on my way to somewhere else and wouldn't take much of my time. You can afford to buy sushi and organic $10 sandwiches for lunch every day, then you can pay the damn PA.) Ah, the more I work with out-of-towners, the more I love them. (OK, the SD people I worked with were really nice. I would have said CA people, but some of these were based in Las Vegas and at least 2 were originally from the East Coast.) And I'm sorry, if they ever see this I'll never work in this town again (ha), but the makeup girl was way more of a diva about having to have everything exactly to her weird standards than the talent (who was totally fine about stuff). Does the makeup chick get to be that way?? When do I get to be a demanding brat?? Whiiiiine, there's not enough chicken on my salad. Well, let's show the waitress who just told us TWICE (because you made me ask TWICE) that that IS extra chicken. Well, I already ate it. So you want me to go tell her that wasn't enough chicken, but you already ate it? Never mind, it's fine. No, no, I'll buy you more chicken if you want more chicken. I didn't eat lunch yesterday, I can go without again today. No, it's fine, never mind. AUGH.

So whine about my new career. I know being a PA sucks, and that's OK. It's a rite of passage, everyone has to put in their time. And it depends on who you're working with -- it can be a great way to learn different departments while not being expected to know everything already when you get there. (That's why it pays less.) But jobs like this, well, they're there to keep me fed through the month. And to get me that much closer to real jobs if possible. THIS isn't what I want to do.

Now, yesterday's shoot, another story. Unpaid, of course, but I was a grip on a 48 Hour Film Project contender (of which there are like 80 in Mpls, because we rock), where you get 48 hrs. to write, produce and edit/post a short film. Ours is great, I'm so happy I got in with this group. And I got to grip without feeling like I'm unworthy and thrown into a situation that was over my head, so it was really good experience for me. The people were nice, I saw a few I knew before, and I really like the guy who brought me on -- I met him at the show I worked on last Friday (where I dolly gripped -- he was the camera operator). It's nice when you meet people you really like working with and have prospects of working with them again. That's what it's all about -- good people, good projects, etc. So I hope that goes somewhere. He's part of a production company, so I'm hoping that could turn into something. If I didn't mention that here, Drinking with Ian (the one I dolly gripped on last week) was GREAT. I met so many good people, worked with people I've worked with before (all ones I liked, too), and it was a GREAT opportunity. Dolly grip is one of the things I'd like to specialize in, if you can specialize around here. (Not really, but at least I'd like people to think of me when they think of dolly grips.)

Babbly babble babble.

It's coming along. Feeling pretty good about things. Need to get out there and start getting hired once I'm unencumbered with this stupid job.

Soon to be future Ms. Unemployed America

Yes, folks, the time has come. As much as I thought it would be a labored, frightening leap into the black abyss, it really wasn't: I'm quitting my day job and freelancing full time! Yep. It's official -- all except for telling my job, that is.

Here's what happened: Tuesday I was talking to the hockey guys and mentioned I'd had to turn down 2 paying weekday jobs, and they said, oh, you don't want to do THAT. And I started thinking, my god, I've put myself out there, begged to be hired, then when people called, said, yeah, uh, can't really do that. NOT COOL. So I tossed and turned into the night. When I finally slept, I was having a dream about freelancing when awakened by my cats at about 4 am. I didn't get back to sleep after that, lying there wondering what I should do. All day I thought about it. That night I barely slept again (this was not helped by my cough that won't go away, mind you -- haven't slept well in a couple weeks -- I will only briefly mention that I fully believe that this is brought on by the noxious fumes from the welding shop attached to my office by a semi-insulated corrugated wall and a door that opens and closes about twice a minute. And yes, I'm finally going to call OSHA about it).

Thursday I was sitting there at work miles away in my own little world, thinking about all this when I sat up and said, OK, wait, I've been saving up for a little while now -- how much money do I have, vs. how much money do I need? I started doing some math. And I realized that, effective immediately, if I limit my non-set-bill spending (groceries, gas, beers etc.) to a certain, very low amount, I can probably get by through September with NO paying jobs if I work here through June.

When September rolls around, either I: am making a living and will continue to, am making a living but jobs will drop off, or am not making a living, and if it's either of the 2 latter I will go out and get temp office jobs until things pick up again. Temp jobs are always easy enough to get, and I have enough office experience now that I should make decent money. I've verified with people who've worked temp that this is still the case -- you can pretty much get a job immediately.

How simple and foolproof is that? And of course I'll make SOME money, so I think I can afford a vegetable once in a while (instead of living on pbj's, my plan until things pick up). I will also be able to get a beer or two with industry people for networking purposes from time to time (and so as not to go crazy).

I talked to my mom today and didn't mention that I'm quitting, smirkedy smirk. I don't know if I'll ever tell her. I rarely talk about my doorknob job anyway, and I won't lie, but if she doesn't specifically ask, "are you still working at that job?" I don't think I'll bring it up. Maybe if I make it for like a year and haven't asked her for one red cent I'll tell her.

Anyhoo. I've got a lot coming up already (taking time off work -- shhh!) and am feeling pretty confident about the whole thing despite some of my more experienced friends not being too enthusiastic about their own prospects. (Hard to compare me to them, though -- I'm a cheapass PA, not a producer or gaffer/grip/all-around kickass individual with a ton of equipment who knows everything and therefore costs more than lil ol me). Feeling pretty good, yet not dangerously manic about it. Ahhhh.

Rollercoaster (of loooove)

I've realized in the past week that one thing I REALLY need to learn to do is separate my mood, my mental sense of well-being, from the ups and downs of my so-called film career. I was down for quite some time until my contact-everybody blitz because I wasn't doing anything. After the blitz I was borderline manic because things were going so well. Then things kind of petered out a little (a couple jobs fell through, a couple didn't go as well as I'd hoped), and I was in the depths of despair again. Today a guy I'm hoping to work with more called me about a job that I wasn't even able to take (DAMN my day job and my stupid needs to, like, have shelter and eat), but the fact that he thought of me, and he said he's keeping me on his "short list," had me all happy again.

Okey dokey, first of all, it's just a bad idea to get that emotionally involved in just the getting of work, because the desperation is going to get pretty rancid pretty quick. Second, I just gotta say, I love you, my friends -- I have not shut my damn mouth about this stuff for WEEKS, and you've all been so kind as to not tell me to fuck off and actually seem to CARE. :)

That leads me to the rest of my day. I realized today that I worked the last 20 days straight without a day off until today. And the bad week film-wise, and I've been sick for a week and a half, and I have been having a really hard time going through the motions at the ol' day job... So I went to the coffee shop, bought an almond toffee scone and a cuppa cold press, took it to the park and sat on a swing with my breakfast in the sun. Then I went home, got in my car, drove to the mall and bought myself another pair of damn pants and some damn capris, dammit (because I don't have enough damn clothes that still fit! Even my skinny clothes are too fat! I don't think I'm still losing weight, but I guess if not my jeans are stretching out...!) Then I came home, got a book and my MP3 player, and sat on the deck for several hours in the sun. Then I walked to the gas station (about 1.5 mi. round trip, so I got some non-slacking in) for cigs, and returned to the deck until the sun started to go down and it got too cold. GOD, it was relaxing. I'm a bit sunburned, but just enough that I should end up a slightly darker shade of pale than I was. And all that vitamin E or whatever -- I feel so much better! I came home last night feeling REAL BAD about this cable access internship thing, so I needed this.

Did I mention the TV thing? I'm interning for the Mpls. cable access station. Until last night (worked on 1 whole show and 1 that was rained out after about 1/2 hour) I was feeling good about it, and I'll get over last night, but I'll sum it up like this: put me in charge of something I have no idea how to do, don't give me any instruction as to how to do it, then proceed to spend a good part of the show bitching me out because I'm not doing it right. For FREE? Nuh-uh, find another sucker. We'll just see if that continues -- I realize live TV can be stressful, the bitcher in question was in a bad position, and it was just ill planning, but I don't need that shit from cable freaking access. However, everyone else has been extremely nice and funny and pleasant and whatnot, so I'm hoping this is a fluke.

Ah, two cats schnuggled up against me right now. Sighs. PS, earlier, Mikey attacked Neko and clamped onto his neck like a bulldog! I've never seen such a thing! Is he finally asserting himself, or was he possessed? Why was Neko not fighting back? I finally had to make Mikey let go because I was getting worried! Hm, don't hurt my baby, bu yay Mikey, way to be a MAN!

Holy brain diarrhea, better not read this one

Well, I am FRICKING TIRED. FRICK. Who says or actually types out FRICK?

I worked at the cable access show Friday and OPERATED A FRICKING CAMERA. Wow, I thought I was going to watch them and learn how to wrap a cable. I have 3 more dates set with them for May. It rockeded!

Saturday I worked a loooooong day on Dead of Night or whatever they're going to call it (I'll let you know so you can all rush to the theater to see it. ALL of you. Sarah.) It was COOL -- big set, LOTS of people. I think I learned about 50 new names -- and I actually remembered a lot of them! That's the thing I have to really work the hardest at.

Oh, and I met this guy:


Not to be confused with this guy:


(Weird: I couldn't find one picture of them together... Discuss.)

So anyway, it's fun, I'm exhausted, and I had to not work on the film today, despite the fact that they needed and WANTED me back, AND get up 4 hours after I got home from shooting last night because of mother's day. Most people just call their mom, but I had to get up at 8 am, pick up my brother 45 min. out of my way, drive 2.5 hours down there, eat, talk to relatives, drive 2.5 hours back, drop off brother, and try to sleep (yes, so I blog -- hey, my hair is drying). But do I get to lay on the guilt trip this time? Nope, mom does, because we didn't stay long enough. ARGH. I just have to say, and I hope I don't regret putting this out there, that I was getting really choked up reading mother's day cards this year. Because I was overcome with gratitude toward my mother? No, because so many of them were like, "mom, you've always supported me," blah blah blah. My mother does NOT support me and would rather have me work a job I DESPISE and which makes me want to die a quick death instead of this slow, torturous one, instead of pursuing a chance at professional fulfillment (which is the way I choose to find it -- not through breeding and such shit) and for once in my life taking real risks to do what I want to do, because she couldn't stand not having a steady income, so therefore I can't do it (you know, like "I'm cold, put on a sweater"). She goes out of her way EVERY TIME IT COMES UP to mention that this is such a great "hobby" for me. I can understand where she's coming from, where you go through life doing certain shit in a certain order (college, marriage, job, children, DIVORCE, REMARRIAGE, retirement, etc.) because THAT'S JUST WHAT PEOPLE DO, or more accurately, because you're TOO GODDAMN SCARED TO LIVE YOUR OWN LIFE, but I thought I'd gotten through to her that I AM NOT PEOPLE. I AM KRISTINA. I DO THINGS KRISTINA'S WAY, NOT "PEOPLE'S" WAY. IF I DON'T, THEN THERE IS NO POINT TO MY EXISTENCE, IS THERE? And I've been living what I feel is a completely poinless existence the past few years. Seriously, my life has been WITHOUT POINT, and I don't mean that in a suicidal way, I mean that in a way that says it's now or never, time to make a change. So I am attempting to rectify that and create something out of my life that I can be PROUD of. IT'S NOT A MOTHERFUCKING HOBBY. Yes, I am blogging on mother's day about my major, major issues with my mother. That's all I have to say about that, except that if anyone can tell me how, without estranging yourself from your family, to NOT GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOUR MOTHER THINKS EVEN WHILE SHE'S TELLING YOU EXACTLY WHAT SHE THINKS, please let me know. I'm 30 FRICKING years old and she still can do way more than just annoy me. I've done it before and I'll do it again: if I can't talk to her about my life, and talking to her makes me feel bad about myself every time, then I will extricate myself from that negative situation and no longer talk to her. Just because she says it with a smile doesn't mean she doesn't intend to passive-aggressively inflict her shit on me. HOBBY. FUCK YOU. Wow. That's it. I am going to hell, right now, today.

DAMN, was that an ashcan rant. I'm not even the least bit drunk. What a weird entry. Go to bed. I've gotten about 9 hours of sleep in the past two nights put together.

Eyyyyyyyyyedrropppppps

I just got my eyes checked and they gave me those drops that dilate them. Ick. I can't see and I have a headache.

Sweet sweet sweetness of the total sweetie sweetarama sweetmeisters. That's all I have to say. About the fact that I've gotten ABOUT A BAZILLION responses to my blitzkrieg of e-mails to film people on Sunday. OK, I think I've gotten 4 responses. One actual job (unpaid -- OK, I'll TELL you if it's paid, otherwise assume not, for now) at the Mpls. cable access channel Friday night, and probably/for sure a job on Sat.

See, two of the respondents are actually working on the same thing, so either I'll PA or something (for the 2nd AD, who called me first) OR I'll grip for THE BIGGEST KEY GRIP IN TOWN (as he was advertised to me -- I'm assuming big in respect and getting-of-jobs, etc., more than being some kind of giant man, but whatever), who called me to see if I could work for him on Sat., and it turned out to be the same shoot I'm already in communication with the other gentleman about. :D It's a horror movie! (I won't tell you about my idea for a horror movie that I want to make some day in case someone is reading this and steals my thunder, but I have a location. No plot, script, financing, cast or crew. But a location.)

The Sat. thing is not FOR SURE in that they may be doing overnights (it's a HORROR MOVIE), and I MUST go to my mom's for mother's day (she said I could take this job if I felt I needed to, but I don't think I could deal with the mom guilt for the rest of my life... She is NOT into my freelancing endeavors). But then I realized, hey, my 26-year-old brother just got his driver's permit (to be fair, he did have one at 15), SO... I might end up working all night, get us out of the city and pointed in the direction of "home," then make him drive the rest of the way as I hallucinate and doze off. I will probably be unattractive and spacey (and quite possibly stinky) for mother's day, but at least I'll be there. Take THAT, mom!

So I'm calling Saturday a for-sure job right now.

Wootwootwoot. I don't know when I turned into a l33t nerdo, but woot, I say. Huh-WOOT.

I am NOT a nerd...

...but...

ROFLMAO!

I fell down.

In floorball.
It hurts.

This is just me trying some internets out

OK. What I'm trying to do is make a picture into a linke to a web site.

Innebandy

Would you like to see some professional Swedish floorball action?

Go Pixbo!

(Or if that doesn't work, go to svt.se, which is Swedish TV only backward, find the link for "sport" -- when you click it, you gotta say SCHPORT! -- then the dropdown that I think says ALLESPORTE or something that looks like "all sports," then find INNEBANDY and just try to guess which yerdyyardahurty thing is real footage. WOOT!)

Killer Death Hockey from Hell

Well, I just realized S. linked to me from her site. (OK, S, I have to agree with you -- you have too much internetty stuff going on and I keep forgetting some of them exist! But I'm probably just jealous because the internets don't hate you like they hate me.) And she said something about my writings covering the underbelly of Mpls. filmmaking, street hockey and cat farts.

Nothing to report on #3, thank god.

Filmmaking? GodDAMN it, the director I last worked with just told me to add him to my myspace, when I asked him if I can work on his next project. NOOOOOOOooooooooOOOOOOOOooooooooooO! I hate myspace! So very much! But perhaps it's time to scrap the rantings I started there and start over with something I actually want the general world to see. UGH. But if it can get me jobs... ... ... I'm going to have to sleep on that one.

But I haven't really updated with the whole floor hockey thing! It's great. Last week my friend from work who also starts with an S came, and that was nice for several reasons: not being the only girl and having a friend I know a little better were really nice. We MIGHT get some more girls this Sat. (but S won't be there). I do feel brave, though -- there have been other potential female players who simply will not play if they're the only girl. I guess one showed up last Sat. when I wasn't there and refused to play. Come on, ladies! Let's not let them think we're THAT way.

However, after last night, I can't blame any of the ladies too much for being girl weenies. All I can say is OWIE. I got so beat up! Guys, we girls did not grow up pounding on each other for fun and recreation, and we certainly do not wrestle with each other now, or whatever you people do. I'm trying really hard to be tough shit here, but STOP HITTING ME!

OK, I admit: I'm kind of OK with it. Because if they're gonna hit me, man, I'm gonna HIT BACK. And let me tell you, I have thirty years of pent-up anger toward men... Not to be a feminazi (ha), but I've defintely been on the shit end of the deal for a while now. So watch out, boys, the gloves ar coming OFF! HAAHAhAHahahahahahaaaaaa.

But. I feel like shit today. I usually only get slightly sore muscles, but I have injury-related pains in my right shin (I got hit HARD by a stick when one guy tackled -- I didn't know there was tackling in hockey! -- another and I got in the way; it turned into a dark bruise within seconds, then a large welt, and oh, it hurt to run), my left wrist and hand, right shoulder, left knee, and one elbow was hurting earlier. Oh, and I got jarred so hard on one hit I kind of snapped my jaw shut, so that's a little achy too. And I'm really tired because I always end up staying up too late on hockey nights (start at 7, 2 hrs of hockey, another 2 hours at the bar, 20-min. drive home, feed the cats, shower, then I have to let my hair dry at least halfway, and suddenly it's past 1 am). So I feel pretty crappy today. But I'm excited to play again on Saturday! It'll be outside, which for some reason gets less rough (not as enclosed as the gym), but I still intend to kick some ass.

I'm not sure what got into everyone. Just to be clear, they were attacking each other more than usual too -- it wasn't just "everyone go after the poor chick" night. My calendar says today is a full moon...?

OH, and on Saturday, if there are enough people around to keep an eye on it, I'm bringing my camera and taking pictures so we can start our own floorball web site! We might need a team name now, at least to name our site after... I'll let you know if we get that going -- maybe I'll start it up as a blog, since I know how to do one now. Becuz, I know one of the internets, sort of! Ha, and I just realized that *I* will not be on the site if it's my camera! Bwaaahahahaha. It's like driving a stick -- use equipment other people don't know how to operate so you can control the device at all times! (OK, I don't think we have any DP's here, but some of them gotta know how to operate a camera...) I'll have to update on Sunday if I can still move.

Creep City, the Pictures

This is the thing I saw before I saw the cave, when I could smell the torch but didn't see it yet. This looked really cool in real life, but there was no way to get far enough away from it to really get the brick arch all in the frame without having too many trees in the way. (This is a bit overexposed too, so it needs a little work. Hard to see anything anyway. That's a brick wall inside that dark hole area.) It's not really a cave, just a hollowed-out area.




This one also needs some exposure adjustment if I ever get un-lazy enough. Anyway, this is the cave opening I came upon with the smoldering torch. After the boy and girl walked down the hill and only the boy came back up... It really was an eerie feeling place, but that couldn't be because the sky clouded over and the caves have so much lore... ;) Oh, for scale, I'd say the opening is roughly waist-to-shoulder height? Although in the blowup you can see a cigarette pack that looks really big... I remember wondering if one could squeeze between the boards/i-beams to get into the cave, though.




When you turn around (and walk downhill a little bit?), this is the view. Bear in mind, this is just across the river from almost-downtown St. Paul. I love urban hiking! And it helps with the creepy ambience when you suddenly find yourself in the middle of nowhere when you know you're right in the city.




This is the creeeeepy-ass road I came to when I continued down the trail. I actually did follow it until I saw a truck parked at the other end, which was what finally scared me enough to go back the way I came (maybe real people do scare me more than ghost ones...). I don't know what part of Lillydale park is supposed to be haunted, but I wouldn't be surprised if this is it. It's so quiet and solitary...




Creepy sky too. I love it when the sun can't decide if it's out or not -- way creepier than just overcast, because it feels like it should be sunny, but things still look dark and grey.




Anyway, no ghosts in the pictures as far as I can tell. Of course, these are probably too small for you to find anything, but trust me -- no ghosts. The internet hates me, I think that's been firmly established, so these pictures are the best I can do for now.

Kind of hard to tell when this size, but a small waterfall




Brick.




Tree.




Mississippi River Bridge No. 15




I like this one. I don't know what this is, it's like moss and a hedgehog had a baby




Moose Youth RVs Ahsiks? I can get on board with the first three, but I don't know about that last bit.

Thats tiny Minneapolis in the distance

ha, now I shall go crazy with the pictures

Last try >:(

pix -- WILL THIS WORK?

[IMG]http://i175.photobucket.com/albums/w127/ashcan-rantings/0077073-R1-041-19.jpg[/IMG]

[IMG]http://i175.photobucket.com/albums/w127/ashcan-rantings/0077073-R1-015-6.jpg[/IMG]

Where did you come from?

During my frequent long walks, I have a lot of time to think deep thoughts. Here is Friday's:

I was walking along thinking, I can walk till I drop dead, and I will still have a butt. It's not as big as it once was, but I feel like it's disproportionate. And I got to thinking, where the hell did this come from? I can't think of a single person I'm related to by blood with a butt. Well, no, I had a male cousin who got a little chubby for a while, and I think for a guy he sort of had a butt. Not really, but for a guy... Maybe it's because I don't have as many female blood relatives? My parents and grandparents have NO butts. My one blood aunt has struggled with her weight, but as far as I remember, like my grandma (her mother), she tends to gain weight around the middle and have a flat butt. (I've never spent so much time, or any time that I remember, trying to visualize my family memebers' butts...) I do have overweight relatives, just no one with butt issues.

In fact, that goes a step further. The two main body types/weight gain areas are the apple shape (large around the stomach) and the pear shape (larger below the wast). I guess I'm the latter (although I just get big all over -- but despite my exercise being mostly leg-focused, my top half slimmed down the easiest). No one I'm related to has this body type. I find that weird.

Maybe on my next walk I'll figure out where my butt came from. Better yet, maybe I'll figure out where it's going and how to make it leave.

Why I Don't Go to Movies in Theaters Very Often

There are two main types of theatergoing movie viewers.

The first I'll call the Blockbusters. They're impressed with anything big (explosions, music, sinking boats) and famous people. That in iteslf doesn't bother me -- I can dig Hollywood movies. They're also the types who talk and make all manner of noises, especially during quiet scenes. Unfortunately, I've had close friends and family members of this persuasion, but damn, it drives me crazy. They ask what just happened, GASP in shock every time anything remotely unexpected happens (one friend didn't realize until someone glared at her that she spent most of a suspenseful movie whisper-yelling "fuck! Fuck!" in terror). Or much worse, they do these things when they merely ASSUME something bad is about to happen. When it doesn't, thanks, Blockbuster, you've just made whatever did happen an anticlimax. Even if I want to ignore you, the throaty, panicked, inhaled "gughghgh!" sound you make automatically puts me on guard. They tend to eat more loudly than the average German Shepherd (sometimes they "drink" their popcorn by upending the container and shaking it down the gullet, producing a lovely "SHT SHT SHT" sound -- until, finally engorged, they throw the container on the floor to bounce/roll down 12 rows. If your hands are too dirty to eat out of, WASH THEM. Ew.)

The second category, actually far worse, is what I will call the Artsy-Fartsies. These can be primarily identified by their hearty, knowing, often indulgent laughs. The worst of these, when watching an arthouse-type film, will laugh at ANYTHING. The more obscure the film (in subject, style or fame), the more they laugh. At everything. If there's a closeup of someone's face, they laugh. If there's a fast cut between two scenes, they laugh. If anything remotely unexpected happens, they laugh. If someone collapses, they laugh -- until they figure out the character just dropped dead of a previously undetected, particularly deadly form of cancer, and the rest of the characters are left to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. Then they sometimes stop laughing. Unless something funny happens.

Yesterday I saw an unusual film at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Film Festival (or, as I think they call it now, the International Minneapolis-St. Paul Film Festival -- I guess MSPIFF was harder to remember than IMSPFF). It was sort of science fictiony, but not necessarily sci-fi (the world it was set in was somewhat different from our own, but there only a few details that were really not possible in our current reality. Whatever, I'm no sci-fi expert). I wasn't expecting it to be a comedy, and after watching it last night and listening to people belly-laugh the entire way through it, I have NO IDEA if it was a disturbing view of a shallow, dead society not so very unlike our own, or a screwball comedy about a man stuck in a crazy-goofy town full of nutty folks. I think if I had watched it by myself I would have found it quirky, outright humorous at times, but overall more puzzling, thought-provoking and just odd. Maybe one or two laugh-out-loud moments.

At one point the main character is following a mysterious man home. Of course, the audience was in fits of uproars because the man he was following was wearing wingtip shoes, and that's all we ever see close up. He goes into a building, and our hero stands outside, staring at the blank facade (ha, look at the closeup of his face!). Suddenly, a light in the basement level flares on. AND THEY LAUGHED. Oh my, the quirky cleverness of it all!

Of course, there are other small groups. The Snorers. The Latecomers. The Walkouts (really sensitive hippie Artsy-Fartsies who didn't actually read the description of the film that called it things like "disturbing," "violent," or even "sexual"). The Fidgeters, who shake entire rows of seats with their constant heavings.

And then there's me. I sit still (within reason; legs do fall asleep), quietly enjoying what's on the screen before me. I arrive on time and use the bathroom before the show starts. If I'm too tired to sit through a movie, I stay home. I eat before I come to the theater, or specifically pick foods that don't make too much noise. If I miss something, I silently chide myself to pay attention and assume I'll figure out what happened. If something startles me, I keep it to myself. If something is funny, I'll chuckle, but I don't feel the need to project my appreciation to those sitting 20 rows in front of me. I turn my phone off before I walk into the building, to make sure I don't forget.

Damn it, I'm not a perfect person. But I'm damn near a perfect moviegoer. (My main faults are height and poofiness of hair. I cannot help this, but I can understand the frustration you people behind me must feel. Which is why I go to all possible lengths to avoid sitting in front of anyone.) There is nothing that pisses me off more than paying $7-$9 to see a movie on the big screen and have to listen to other people's tiny dramas the entire time. SHUT THE HELL UP!

Thank you.

Creep City, Part Two

Today I went for a looooong hike, and I've decided to make a habit of it. My three goals, which I've been trying to fit into some cute name or other, are EXploration, EXercise, and, um, PHotography. I think this will be my new hobby/way to keep myself out of trouble. Unfortunately, the photography part still costs money, otherwise it would also be a great way to spend my time without spending money (I'm hoping I can get my negs processed and put on CD only for not too much). It doesn't take long to shoot through a whole roll of film -- I figure I can do 1.5-2 rolls per trip if I'm not careful.

Today, among other places, I went back to where I was yesterday, more or less, but I started at the bottom instead of the top of the bluff. I found more "caves," if you can call them that -- hollowed-out areas maybe 8-10' deep, not interesting at all. But I found the other approach at least, and now I know that the possible entrance I found yesterday is pretty inaccessible by automobile, hence safe to enter... But I still need to go back with others! I'm hoping my brother will go. Did I mention I researched Lillydale Park after yesterday and found out it's supposed to be haunted? Glad I didn't know that then -- I didn't go very far up that way today.

I found another non-scary cool place. There's this gully sort of area that my lovely scenic road (hwy. 13, which I think is aka Lillydale road) overpasses, which I've wished before I could stop and look at. Well, I got all the way up there (higher than my house) from the bottom, much of the way off trail, to find a nice little waterfall. It was about a 2 hour hike, and I ran out of film early on, so I was actually moving at as fast a pace as the terrain would allow most of that time. It's so rewarding to venture off the path and find something unexpected! I should clarify that I wouldn't have gone all the way to the falls if I hadn't passed some people coming from it who told me about it. But I learned a vaulable lesson: always follow creeks uphill. I should also clarify that after a couple minutes at the fall I looked up the other direction and saw several condos overlooking me >:P That sucked, but I tried to ignore them, and hoped they were ignoring me.

I also realized something about myself: I love to be alone. I do love to spend time with my friends and family, but walking alone today, I realized I didn't want anyone with me and wouldn't have had nearly as much fun if I had. I love the prospect of a whole weekend to myself. If I didn't feel social pressures (not wanting to look like a freaky loner loser), I would probably isolate myself completely. Which isn't a good thing, and it's not that I don't like my friends, it's just a conscious effort to make the move to get together with them on my part. Which is why I've been making more of an effort to make and keep new friends. But it's interesting. I've known people -- my ex-roommate and friends of his, for example -- who simply cannot be alone. They'll spend time with someone they don't really care for (i.e. me) before they'll spend an afternoon by themselves. They've openly admitted that and clearly think I'm weird when I want to be alone. That's so far from me it's hard to understand -- I've realized how much more contented and myself I am when I live alone than when I'm around people all the time, enough that I think that in iteslf should be considered prescription medication, and my insurance shouldreally help support my solitary living. At least give me the price of Prozac to apply toward my monthly rent.

Of course, all this isn't to say that I don't get lonely, or that I've never found myself wanting to go out and depressed because no one was around, or that I don't mean it when I do want to get together with my friends. But sometimes I notice that they're the ones who call me more often, and it's just contentedness with the status quo on my part, not an affront to them.

Oh, I still like my cats. And the only people I could think of having with me on my hike who would have improved my lovely afternoon were Scout and Bella, my two favorite dogs. I'm thinking of seeing if I can borrow one of them next time.

Creep city

I went for a photo-taking walk today and found out I live in walking distance of the caves of St. P., which was cool but creepy (stumbling upon them unexpectedly). I'll put pictures up eventually, but I doubt they'll be too interesting. But this was one of those creepy things that I'm sure has a totally boring explanation: there was a young (teenage?) couple walking ahead of me on the gravel path that I didn't know yet led down to one cave entrance. They walked down just ahead of me, and just a couple of minutes later, I saw the boy walk back up, but not the girl. Weird, but whatever. Then I found a cave entrance, and this other brick arch thing that I checked out first. I was taking pictures and kept smelling this odd burning smell that was more like incence (what I imagine church incense smelling like, anyway -- not nag champa or anything). I made my way over to the actual cave opening (I should clarify that it was sort of barred over -- not sure if the pictures will show it, but I was too creeped out to get too close -- but borderline as far as being able to sneak in), I realized there was a large smoldering torch that was giving off the odor, leaning against the entrance and just smoking away.

Boring explanation: Most likely, they met down there (I'm 99% sure that area is accessible from the bottom as well as the way I came) to have sex or whatever kids do and were wandering up and back down the trail when I saw them. She probably left from the bottom and he was walking back up. They were probably in the cave, using the torch for light, and left it half-extinguished outside the entrance. It was probably made of a shrub that smells sweeter than most wood (we had some lilac branches to burn at my last place which smelled lovely).

But it was creepy! I was all alone in the woods! People have died in those caves! The sun went behind a cloud!

So that's my super-lame scary ghost story. Walking along the path, I found several smaller openings that looked straight into larger caverns, and possibly one larger entrance, but I was too scared to look too closely this trip. Maybe someday I'll bring someone with me (need to tell my brother about the entrances for sure) and actually be able to investigate these caves. It's been a dream of mine for years (http://www.actionsquad.org/underground.html), but no way I'm going IN by myself, since I can barely get close to the entrances!

BBLLWWWAAAAAHHHH

That is the sound of puking, which I did NOT actually do, but it was a close one. Let's just say... Oh hell, I had the shits, man. No reason to lie. I think I got me some food poisoning. But it would be a mild case, luckily (I've had it before and puked for 12 hours straight). Still, I opted not to drive 5 hours through some LONG stretches without bathrooms to grandma's for Easter. :( So I'm spending Easter alone, SOB! (That's sort of a joke, as I've always considered Easter the most annoying and pointless of holidays. I think it's mostly because of the pastels. And if you don't get a day off work, it ain't a holiday.) I do like the Cadbury eggs, so I'll be eating one of those tomorrow, in honor of the resurrection of our Lord and Savior and all.

So I took 2 days off work and have been sitting around my apartment for 3 days straight now and it's driving me crazy! At the same time, I just realized that in like 36 hours I'll have to get up for work! NOOOOOOOooooooo....

But on Monday night I'm getting my haircut! Now, unlike some, a haircut is not a bimonthly chore for me. It only happens once or twice a decade and is usually dramatic. I'm going to a curly-hair specialist, and the outcome will be either a) long hair that I can manage and wear down (right now I ALWAYS, and I mean 100% of the time, wear it in a ponytail), or b) SHORT hair. So it should be a big deal either way. I'm excited! I will TRY to get some pictures up here of my new skinny-ass short-haired self (or as the case may be). It's not easy for the likes of me, though. Analog girl in a digital world.

Oh, did I mention previously that I was going to play floor hockey with a bunch of film guys? Well, I did, it was fun (I SUCKED), and I've decided I'm going to keep playing. It's a much better workout than the treadmill. However, we went to the bar afterward and I had some beers -- canNOT do that every week or it will cancel out the effect of the workout. (BUT I had a salad, and everyone else had burgers.) And I think I have 2 more girls who want to come this week, so woohoo, will not be the only one! Although I only mind it in that I feel like I'm the only one who doesn't know what I'm doing. I'm used to being around all guys, and they're not too annoying about it, mostly.

I do not know why I always feel like I can't say things because "people" might see them. As no one reads this. So I will also say as a side note that they're a good lookin' bunch for the most part. Probably mostly married, but that's OK, just lookin'. But then, I think everyone is good looking. Seriously! Or else I only have good-looking friends. Which of course is in the eye of the beholder, so I DO! Anyway.

I was talking to the one guy in this group who I knew from before a couple weeks ago, and suddenly I remembered this guy I went on ONE date with a long while back, but it felt more like a "briefly dated" sort of situation. We e-mailed a fair amount between there because it was xmas break (this was at the U, although he's MUCH older than me), and admitted "you're kinda cool, I, um, think you're cute," stuff like that. Anyway, this is a sad, pathetic saga that I won't get into too much, but he stood me up REPEATEDLY (had great excuses, though!) and then just fell off the face of the earth. Hmm... Not far enough along into any sort of relationship to have gotten to know me and realized I suck (as he hadn't SEEN me since he said I decidedly did not suck), but far enough that you owe someone an explanation.

Not a huge deal as far as him personally, but it really bothered me for a while -- I was convinced I was a freak and no one could stand me, plus I felt somehow like I had been suckered -- he pursued me, got me to start really liking him, then it was like, HA, just kidding, stupid ugly girl from high school who guys made fun of, of course I never liked you! I hate to give anyone this kind of power, but yes, it had a strong effect on me at the time, stronger than it should have because it was the culmination/adult manifestation of all the insecurities I had felt all my life.

Not really relevent, but MONTHS later he shows up where I then worked (hardware store). Awkward small talk. He later called back, begged me not to hang up on him, said he wanted to explain everything to me, could he call me back that night? I said sure (NO interest in "seeing" him, just in hearing what happened for some peace of mind), gave him my #, AND NEVER HEARD FROM HIM AGAIN. What a winner. I'm not sure if I mean him or me.

Anyway, I completely FORGOT about this part: I met him in a film class, and he had just moved back here from CA where he worked in the film industry -- in lighting! Now, it's no coincidence I got into the same industry -- we met in a film class, and I always wanted to be in production, and he was the first person I met who was in it and could tell me how you do it, that you don't need to go to film school, etc. So I do credit him for planting that early idea, and that's the one good thing I still believe comes from every experience. But it is TOTALLY coincidental that I'm working in the exact same field! I sort of fell into it a few jobs in and liked it. Although I did more lighting in my theater days than a lot of things (esp. in high school), I never had a particular interest in pursuing it before.

Oh, so the tie-in to this guy I was talking to -- I casually asked him if he'd ever heard of this guy, and he said yeah, he knows him and has worked with him, sure, he's still in town! Apparently he's mostly into stage lighting now. But JEEZ, way to come full-circle! Anyway, I was thinking about that, and if I saw him now I don't think it would really be a big deal on my part -- this was like 5-6 years ago now, and I certainly don't have enough emotionally invested to hate him or care much at this point. But it is a little weird, and yes, I would have to fight off initial feelings of DRAMA if I did see him after all this time. Especially since (even though he nowhere near qualifies as an ex, it is the same kind of discomfort) I tend to keep my exes REAL far away, so I don't run into them, ever. (Except Joe, but that's another story I still haven't gone into).

Not sure what the moral of the story is, although I can now say that, whatever the hell was going on with that guy, even if it WAS a "ha ha ugly girl from high school, I was just PRETENDING I like you" thing (which I'm sure now it wasn't), IT DOESN'T MATTER. He probably has a small penis anyway. KIDDING, that doesn't matter either! But it makes my point -- I'm sure he had some upheaval or mental illness or moral dilemma or something going on and it had nothing to do with me, and I was all torn up about some ungrounded dude's issues for no reason. (Um, he had just gotten divorced, perhaps I should mention. COULD've had something to do with it...)

The moral is also that it's a small world, so don't fuck with people, because you might run into them socially or professionally 6 years later and feel like a DICK. >:)

Well. Ayup. Mmm-hmm. Snort.

I have nothing new to say...

I just felt like it was time to add something, but nothing has really changed recently. Oh, except that I get to stay in my apartment, because if they don't break up (IF) and they do move out, they're planning to keep the house and rent out the downstairs. THANK GOD. So I bought a new piece of furniture ;) It makes my nook filled with crap into a nice, neat storage space, DAMMIT.

I got new shoes too, and they're so cool you wish you were me, plus they're unbelievably comfortable. Like, I took them off after walking 4.5 miles, and my feet were like, "noooo, put them back! They make us feel like we are ensconced in fluffy, sleeping kittens!" SERIOUSLY, people, after wearing them all day and to the gym, my feet were more comfortable with the shoes ON than OFF (usually as soon as I get home I can't get my shoes off fast enough).

Also this weekend I ate at a vegetarian Indian restaurant yesterday with K & S that was delish. My mom and stepdad came to visit Sat. and brought me the lovely new bookshelf s-dad made me for xmas and it's REALLY NICE. Way better than my sagging particleboard POS from Target. So that was my materialistic weekend. I suck... But... It was fun. Wow, this is even more inane than most of my postings. Ok, so like, buhbye!

Movies is fun!

Worked all day Saturday and 1/2 day (or 3/4, depending on how you look at it) Sunday on a music video and it was AWESOME. I really liked the band (maybe you always do if you work with them? I have to say, musicians kick ass -- the 2 bands I've worked with have been just sweet and pleasant to work with and make you HAPPY to work for free to help with their video -- unlike a few actors I've worked with...). The band is Limbeck, check them out at http://www.myspace.com/limbeck and listen to Big Drag (currently their default song when you get there). I will reiterate -- they were a PLEASURE to work with, totally adorable and sweet guys who worked their asses off and stopped to say thank you when they didn't have TIME for such niceities because we were rolling! Please check their tour schedule too, as they are coming to the town of my one reader and I think you should go -- from what I could tell, they should be really good live. I'm hoping they'll be able to put the video online eventually, but they are on a label, so I don't know how that works (but you can find just about anything on youtube -- or could, until they became google and started getting sued...). I like the song. Actually, I should clarify -- we shot TWO videos, but the other song isn't up there and -- I hope no one sees this and hates me -- the concept just didn't do as much for me. But I am very excited to see both.

Funny: I got the call sheet on Friday afternoon finally, and I was listed as Electrical (job title). Um, that could mean plugging crap in, but I had to ASK what all that entails, being pretty sure it was not a job I should have. It means running a generator if you have on (we didn't), metering I don't know what for power, dealing with blowouts, changing lamps (bulbs), etc. Um. Yeah, I didn't do that. They actually had an electrical problem with the house we were shooting in, and we joked that I better go fix it. We very funny, you know.

I got to do a bunch of radom grippy/PA-y stuff that day, and it was all fun. The key grip was great and hopefully another new contact I can work with more. He got my card before we left. Sweet. This one was more memorable because there was a TON going on and the video is going to be realy cool. The whole thing is in 2 long takes (which will reportedly be edited to look like 1), with the singer walking around, singing his song, and weird things going on around him, kind of a party/circus atmosphere. There are 360 degree turns and all kinds of quick changes -- he walks out and the band is playing at one side of the yard. The camera turns to another guy very briefly, and comes back to the entire band now on dollies rolling across the yard. The camera follows the singer into the street, where he's suddenly joined by the band playing different instruments. There are people all around doing all kinds of things and NO CREW popping into the frame ;) Done all handheld. I saw some of it on the monitor and it looked great.

Sunday was my Big Day, though. I was the dolly grip! You don't understand the implications of this situation, so I will explain it to you. We shot on 35mm. I have never done a damn thing on 35, probably because no one uses it except frigging Hollywood (that might be a slight exaggeration, but I'm not even sure). I can't find it just now, but I once saw a comparative cost estimate per minute of video, 16mm & 35mm, and it costs exponentially more. Only 2 other things I've done have even used 16 -- a lot is going to video now. So we have THREE ROLLS of film at less than 4 min each. The song is longer than each roll, so they have to stagger it. There is ONE TAKE per shot (OK, I'm not 100% with the terminology yet -- you set up, practice your ass off, do ONE TAKE, and that's it, then you set up the next thing you're going to film).

We were shooting in a bar, with the dolly behind the bar and the band sitting at the bar. OH, perhaps I should explain that a dolly is a truck thingy that, in this case, carries the camera and operator back and forth so the camera can pan across a certain space. It has a handle thing to push/pull it which is this case was NOT RIGID (makes it harder not to jerk when you start and stop). It can be on a set track or just wheels so you roll around. There wasn't enough room for track behind the bar (if you need a full description of how much more it sucks running a dolly without track than with, I can tell you, beause I've done each once now). We also didn't have quite the proper flooring, called dance floor, which I would imagine is pretty thick and I know is very smooth. We used 1/4" luan, the flimsiest crap known to man ;) (I don't know if it's ever used in any sort of real construction -- I would guess mostly temporary set walls? I suppose it's plywood, as it is in plies, but it's floppy, man) So we had that flimsy stuff on a 100 year old floor (my est.) with uneven rubber matting under it and a NOTICEABLE indentation toward one end. And I had to push this thing back and forth for almost 4 minutes and be TOTALLY SMOOTH THE WHOLE TIME OR THE MOST EXPENSIVE SHOT I'VE EVER WORKED ON WOULD BE RUNIED. Oh my god! I think I did OK. People told me I did OK. I'm still freaked out. But don't get me wrong, it was the kind of freaked out that's fun and exciting while also making you pee your pants ;)

Anyway, that's about it. Worked with a couple other people I worked with before, met a few new people I hope I get to work with more, maybe even made a new friend... (Shout out to Amy, CIA agent, in case we ever are friends and she reads this ;) ). Good times.

I also learned that if I am EVER in a position to specialize (ha), I want to do music videos as much as possible. I mean, I like features and shorts and would gladly take money to do commercials and anything else (yes, even reality TV, probably), but my favorite so far is definitely music videos. I'm going to keep bugging this director too, because he does a lot of them, and as the guy who referred me to him said -- and I agree from what I know -- he seems to be really up-and-coming.

So there's my ashcan rave -- it's so good to have a REALLY good film experience once or twice a year to remind me, THIS is why I'm doing this! Not that I ever really doubt why I am, but the really good experiences make it clear that I have to do whatever it takes to do this for a living, so I can actually wake up at 6 and say, godDAMN, it's early -- but I'm makin' a VIDEO today!

I want stuff

So I'm torn between my own petty materialism and my dreams of freelancing in the world of filmmaking. I gots a weakness for stuff. Not fancy stuff. Primarily used cheap furniture that I can paint or refinish, things like that. I'm really into making my home a nice place of my own design that's pleasant for me to live in. I wish I was just a gutterpunk to whom a chair is nothing but a sitting utensil, and if it's comfy at all that's just bonus. But noooo, I want a cute chair :( I blame my mother.

It all started (woobly-woop, woobly-woop) last week when my landlord, who lives downstairs, told me that his girlfriend is allergic to me living here now that I have 2 cats. 1 was OK, but 2 is not now. (After they approved me getting 2nd cat, and I am the kind of person who WILL NOT give the cat back for my own convenience, so that means all 3 of us are packing up our toys and gettin' the hell out, which I told him.) However, he said I am not kicked out yet, because things aren't going that well with them, and, well, they could break up any minute. (Oh yes, I hear the fighting.) So by fall either they will a) be broken up, so I can presumably stay, or b) be together forevah and buy a bigger house (it is dang small down there). Which leaves me... Looking around at apartments now, because by fall they're only going to get more scarce and more expensive and I'll be more desperate and then what? I'm sure they'll break up eventually, but I'm not sure they will by fall. They strike me as the masochistic types who will stay in a miserable relationship for years, making each other's lives hell.

Now, for the record, I am an evil bitch, because I would rather stay here, and I secretly hope they break up. I know... I'm BAD! I don't care about them, I just want my apartment! Or, you could say, I care about them and I SEE that they're UNHAPPY, and I just want them to be HAPPY! (Yeah, that one, sure.)

But I just found a place that is slightly less retardedly overpriced than most (hard to find ANYTHING in a 1-bd for less than $700 these days, but studios are mostly well over $500 -- and I must have my sleeping room able to be closed off from at least an equal-sized other room, because Neko pokes me in the head when I'm sleeping and I have to shut him out or I don't sleep!) It's technically a 2-bd (but one is supertiny -- office or workspace for me) for less than most 1-bds. It's in a weird area, but I think OK crime-wise (just not very residential except this small enclave of apt. buildings. More industrial, buildings with shipping docks and stuff. Nice coffee shops nearby, though, and a couple blocks from the film production/lab/rental/networking place I might join), and very centrally located to my current job and the metro area in general for freelancing. Very close to the main interstate that it takes me 10-15 min. to get to now. Basically, it's the only area I'm aware of that would work well both for where I work now AND the rest of the civilized, filmmaking metro (ahem, Minneapolis). BUT it's $615, which is a lot. But cheaper than any 1-bds I've found that aren't in the total ghetto. So I kind of want it. I'm going to just look at it next week.

However, it's really big -- living room, bedroom, dining room, 2nd bedroom thingy, kitchen, bathroom and balcony. I don't have that much stuff, I live in a studio! So I look on craigslist and I find all this cheap furniture I want. I have no immediate intention to live in this place, but I've got a dinette set, a patio set and a couch picked out! (All that for $155, however. I heart craigslist.) But $615 plus electricity plus internet (must have for freelancing) will be at least $675. Right now I pay $475 for all that! I'm fretting. Maybe I'll have some chocolate quick...

Ack, Neko has been staring at an invisible spot on the wall for like 10 minutes! Cats are creepy.

Damn, the chocolate didn't help. Now I just feel fat and fretty. But I do have the delicious taste of chocolate and creamy caramel in my mouth.

So if I kept this job I could afford that apt. no problem. But then of course I would die inside. I don't know when I'll be at the point where I can quit, however. I'm told I should break down and get roommates if I freelance. Well, cats are a monkey wrench there (no pun intended, as Neko is a monkey boy), as does my inherent hatred for people. Nooooo, I love people -- in smaller doses and when I KNOW I CAN ESCAPE AT ANY TIME. You lock me into a 12-month lease with some freakezoid and I canNOT be held responsible for my actions. No, truly, I jest, but it's about my mental wellbeing -- the times in my life when I've been the least happy, most depressed, most felt like I was waiting for my life to come along, because this day-to-day shit CANNOT be it, were when I lived with people. I need my space, BAD. And let's just say that I am no longer anything resembling friends with any of the 6 roommates I've had in my life. That's not even a coincidence, that's a direct causal relationship. If I'm around people too much, I stop liking them. Another reason I do not have a boyfriend.

(On a side note, I was thinking about past ones the other day and just wondering idly, what if? And the thought freaked the crap out of me. What if I was still with one of them now, say 5-10 years later? Holy shit, NO! There is no question in my mind that I would be miserable right now, and that I would NOT be pursuing my dreams in any fashion, even if it currently is a little weak. Misery does not love company -- you can get lonely at times when you're by yourself, but it's nothing like the hell of either loving someone who doesn't love you back enough, or discovering you don't love someone you thought you did or were supposed to -- or the even worse alternatives, finding out everything is a lie or realizing they were using you all along. UGH, my stomach turns just thinking about it.)

So what do I do now? I rant. Because what else is there?

I'll go look at the place... I've been wanting an apartment I could see myself staying in long-term. I'll never buy a house (yeah, commitment problems, anyone?), but I would like a place I feel like I'll stay with for a while, now that I'm an old adult-type person, plus moving sucks. I really want a room I can do art/craft crap in (hard to do with cats -- pawprints are not cute when they're permanent), and to me for some reason, the difference between an apartment and a home seems to be a dining room. Basically, this apartment is everything I've been wanting. So maybe it's fate.

GOD, someone in here's got gas, and it is not me. I can't tell which one it's coming from, but EW. Pew steenky boyz!