Totally Unauthorized

A side of the film industry most people never see.

Ah, Friday.

I’m posting this from an internet cafe, as whatever company Pacific Bell became has decided that DSL lines don’t really need maintenance on the weekends, after all – I probably won’t have access until Monday, or that’s what the customer service rep said.

I’m used to having one of those fancy ergonomic keyboards, and I can feel the standard PC keyboard here giving me carpal tunnel as I type this, so I’ll keep it short.

Today was my last day on “Emily’s” – they finished shooting last night, and we just came in to wrap the lights and do the returns. The first unit boys showed up for a few hours and wrapped their personal stuff, and then split, leaving us to organize a ton of equipment that had just been thrown everywhere.

That’s more of a problem than it sounds like – aside from the obvious cable tangle (also known as ‘spaghetti’), lights have more than one part (some have more parts than others – I’ll explain later when I can type without munching my wrists), and if the parts aren’t all kept together in some semblance of order, things get lost and then I have to spend an hour looking for one tiny little thing that’s missing. Usually it’s not a big deal, but we’ve had the set guys pulling out all the furniture as well, so we spent the entire day tripping over one another.

I usually wear work boots (I step on a nail about once a year, not to mention dropping heavy things that sometimes land on my feet), but because of the toe I’ve had to wear tennis shoes this week. They’re more comfortable, but offer much less protection. Luckily, I haven’t stepped on a nail, but I’ve definitely stubbed my toes a bit, and I’ve dropped a few things on my feet as well.

I’ll be happy when I can get back into my work boots, and I never thought I’d say that!

Tonight, I’m meeting some friends for a birthday celebration at a bar in Venice (James Beach – it was terribly trendy about two years ago), and then I’m going up to Mr. Movie Star’s house to ‘hang out’.

I think “hang out” is a euphemism for “have sex”, and it’s past the third date, so I shaved my legs just in case.

Filed under: Non-Work, Work

2 Responses

  1. Michelle says:

    When I used to road crew for rock bands in the 80s, we used to joke about the pile of cords… “You have to butter the cords so they slide right out. If they get tangled you’ll spend all night tearing down.” Ok…guess that sounded funnier at the end of a long night. LOL

  2. Peggy Archer says:

    Actually, that’s probably funny as hell at the end of a long night!

    The film industry condiment of choice for tangled cords is pasta sauce – Pesto if you’re really suave.

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