Posts filed under: ‘Worky Work‘
As I mentioned in my last post, I start a new 8 wk job on Tuesday. This is great news, of course, as I’ve been out of work for too long. However, I will have to get up at 6am. Yeah, you heard that right. This past week, I truly have tried to go to bed earlier, (12am instead of 1am or 2am) but it’s difficult trying to break the cycle. I’m just praying that I don’t collapse once I’m seated at my new desk.
Today my friend Nate has a half day at work. We’re going to see “He’s Just Not That Into You.” I’m sure it will be a fun, light-hearted flick, so I’m looking forward to it. I remember reading the book and, while flipping through the pages, feeling frustrated. When I read the book I was only twenty-three years old. I had been navigating my way through one failed relationship to the next and, I have to say, Greg Behrendt opened my eyes. It’s better to have learned the hard way than to never have learned at all.
I can’t wait for “The Real Housewives of NYC” on Tuesday. I have immensely enjoyed this season of “The Real Housewives of OC,” so I’ll miss those broads, but no one offers the kind of drama that the NYC gals offer on a weekly basis. Oh, and I’m all about the drama, being that I held the title of “Most Dramatic” in my high school year book.
Add a comment February 13, 2009
I think Bette (pictured right) & Sammy (on left) will be spending much more time on the window sill for the next eight weeks starting on Tuesday. Why, you ask? BECAUSE I FINALLY HAVE A JOB. It’s a production gig on a TV pilot. It’s not as ideal as a long term job with benefits, but it’s work/$. The best news of all is that I’ll be working with my favorite boss ever, Karen. I found out today, officially, but J and I already celebrated last night with martinis. One martini and I was DRUNK. That’s what a low tolerance after hardly drinking for a few months will get ya, but I loved it! Cheers! Oh, and that’s J’s hairy arm in the pic above, not mine :).
1 comment February 12, 2009
Here are a few things that went down on this rainy February Friday.
1. I took an hour nap with the cats on the bed when I had already had a thirteen-hour night’s sleep. I include the cat detail because the cats are not supposed to be allowed in the bedroom ’cause J is allergic. However, this wasn’t the first time in recent weeks, days.
2. For the billionth time in my life, a Starbucks barrista spelled my name on the cup “Christan” when I popped in to order a piping hot green tea latte. Okay, now you know my name… Kristen. Only in Cali have people chosen to spell it “Christan.”
3. Last night I had a dream that I was sleeping in a puddle. I woke to find a wet spot in the bed. I tapped J on the shoulder to demand how this could have happened. He said he was sweaty, so maybe the bed got a ‘lil wet. I know, I know, gross. Just the same, I accepted this explanation, and managed to drift off. Well, tonight, I collapsed onto the bed next to J and, lo, there was a gigantic wet spot AGAIN. It hadn’t been there when I had napped earlier in the day. I looked up at the ceiling. Sure enough, there was a leak. “Shit!” J and I exclaimed in unison. Now, instead of sleeping soundly next to my boyfriend, I am wide awake writing this post. Of course it was my side of the bed.
4. I like all Nicolas Cage movies, I’ve decided, officially and all. Tonight I watched “Bangkok Dangerous” and enjoyed it thoroughly.
5. Since it was pouring buckets, J and I decided to stay in and order Chinese. I had three helpings and could have had four.
6. I ordered an $8O Dr. Denese SPF 30 tinted facial lotion this evening, despite the fact that I promised myself to STOP ORDERING FROM QVC. What truly sold me were not only the before & after models, but also the ultraviolet fluorescent photos. It brought me back to high school, when I went under one of those buggers during “Skin Cancer Awareness Week.” The damage was bad enough then, so it made me panic & ask myself, “HOW MUCH DAMAGE IS THERE NOW???”
7. I embarked on a new book today, “Dewey.” Yup, the cat book. By the time I got to page 30, I had already cried 5 times. I shared this w/J when he got home, assuming he would find this amusing. Instead, he flashed me a concerned frown.
8. I didn’t hear from the place I interviewed with on Monday. My heart sunk a ‘lil.
9. I still don’t know for sure if I have a job with my former boss on a pilot that’s starting soon. I despise uncertainty.
10. A cricket has resided somewhere behind our fridge for the past 3 weeks. It never bothered me one bit. As a matter of fact, it reminded me of the time when I lived with a roommate who had a pet lizard and fed it crickets. I loved that roommate, (not as much as J, but still, she was awesome) and her cute ‘lil lizard. Sadly, the lizard fell ill, and the crickets began to eat it, but that’s a story for another rainy day. Getting back on track, although I took comfort in the cricket’s chirping, (I love nature, what can I say?) J wasn’t so fond of it. He tried killing it with a broom handle, blowing a fan under the fridge, and pounding on the fridge furiously, but it was all no use. The cricket was invincible. I secretly chuckled to myself, but J was mad. Tonight, J’s wish finally came true. While reading Dewey, I heard some pouncing. Sammy and Bette were up to something. Then, I realized that I hadn’t heard our pet cricket in a while. Next thing I knew, Bette was torturing a big tan colored cricket. She taunted it until she couldn’t take it anymore, and then proudly chomped it to bits. Sammy looked on in awe and in jealousy. I woke J up to inform him of the good news. “You let her eat it?” he proclaimed in disgust, “You could have just let it outside!” Yup, I thought to myself. Yup, the girl who didn’t want her boyfriend to kill the cricket had let BetteBoop eat it to death. I was proud of her even. Yup, and the boy who had tried everything to murder the little chirper was now upset that I had had the black heart to let Bette commit such an act. I know what you’re thinking. J and I are the perfect pair full of contradictions.
Add a comment February 7, 2009
Sorry, Blog, I haven’t given up on you or lost interest. I’ve simply been too busy at my new job to spend any time with you. Yes, I’m often a neglectful bitch.
I think around the last time I wrote I was trying the whole “not drinking very much” thing. J had gotten me started on the experiment that we failed miserably by Week #2. At this point, I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll forever fit very nicely into the “lush” category of women. There are 3 main reasons these days why this doesn’t make me feel too bad about myself. 1.) My friends all drink pretty heavily, 2.) J drinks, and 3.) Mad Men. I know it’s a TV show based on the 1960’s workplace, but I’m living vicariously through them and, thus, it makes my drinking seem tame. Anyone get where I’m going with this?
BetteBoop and Sammy are still doing just fine. Bette has the eye herpes too now. It’s all good though. They’re just heavily medicated all the time.
Oh, and the job, you ask? Well, the job is good. Okay, it’s as good as it can be. I wonder if I simply don’t like working at all anymore. There was a time when I enjoyed work. That was over a year ago. Either a job is too stressful for me, too easy, too employed of annoying people, or too much of a place where I’m constantly making a mockery of myself. My job now is the latter. Today, for instance, immediately before a meeting, I insisted on moving my chair closer to the phone. I banged the chair against a coffee table like something out of a caveman movie. People giggled, but my boss was like, “Whoa!” He didn’t sound all too pleased. He never does, but he’s also used to it by now, just as I’m used to myself ‘round these parts. I don’t even blush anymore in this office. I’m all too used to this routine of foolish Korlina.
My day’s nearly done. Au revoir for now, my sweet Blog!
2 comments October 21, 2008
OMG I cannot deal with my allergies today. I’ve been sniffling all day, blowing my nose to no avail, and not even “Clear Eyes” can get rid of the redness in my eyes. As a matter of fact, my eyes hurt. I just want to shut them for the rest of the day. A Claritin wouldn’t hurt right now. Damn, I knew I forgot to do something this morning. Now I’m itchy-eyed, and stuck at work for the rest of the day with no relief. Allergy season, I curse you!
I love… LOVE my new job. Everyone here is super nice & laid back, (I think I’ve mentioned this before). Today I went out to lunch with a bunch of my new co-workers. Now, mind you, this wasn’t the first lunch outing at my new job, but I’m still new here and, because of this, I tend to be a little less chatty than I normally am when I’m, for instance, with my girlfriends. I think Bri is struggling with this fact because she’s very familiar with Chatty Cathy friend Korlina, and does not much understand the ways of work Korlina.
Before she and I headed out with the group for lunch, she made a comment that was something along the lines of, “don’t be so quiet like last time!” She means well, I swear! Actually, I’m SO glad she’s here at work guiding me. I know that she is only looking out for me, and wants me to fit in & come out of my shell.
Once everyone was seated at our lunch table, munching away on our delicious pizzas, I thought about all the awesome conversation I would initiate throughout this gathering. I’d talk about the recent movies I’ve seen, tell everyone that I loooove fro yo, (the fro yo joint across the street was giving me this inspiration) ask engaging questions about current work projects, and be the life of the lunch! I must have zoned out in thinking about all the wonderful things I would talk about because, before I knew it, there were multiple convos flying across the table. I had to jump in… fast!
Somehow, between all the various chit chat, I was able to get in that I looove fro you (I think that was one of the first things I brought to everyone’s attention when someone else made a comment about the fro yo across the street). I also brought up a funny thing that was shown on The Soup last Friday. This funny thing was a cat eating spaghetti. Oh, and I shared my two cents on the latest Batman movie.
On the drive back to the office, I was satisfied with myself. Yay! I finally opened up to some of the people in my office! I am awesome! Wait… what was that? Oh, that’s what I thought she said. While making a left hand turn, Bri sighed and said that I hardly talked at lunch. Somehow, I had failed again!
Thankfully, there’s only an hour or so left of work today. I say this not because I’m at all unhappy, but because my boss is on vacation, (for 2 wks) and it’s been painfully slow. I’m not too fond of days that drag on and on and on and on. You get my point.
The allergies are also making me quite lethargic, but I think that it would be nice to make dinner for J tonight. He’s been completely stressed out of his mind about work lately & it breaks my heart every time I see that sad look on his face when I get home, and he tells me about his day. Hmmm… I wonder what I should make for him?
1 comment August 20, 2008
Two weeks ago I arrived back from Aruba, and the depression set in the moment before we landed. You know? That moment where the plane is enveloped in so much smog that you can’t see out the window? God, sometimes I despise L.A. soooo much that I can just… well, smell the smog. One day after our arrival, in the midst of our cranky back and forth bickering, J announced that he would embark on a mission to find a job in Aruba. I told him that I’d kill him if he didn’t take me with him.
Once Monday rolled around, it was back to work. I felt relatively refreshed from my trip, and even had a tan! I was ready to focus and make things right at a job I hated passionately. Somehow, I rid myself of my back from vacation depressions. No more thoughts of frozen strawberry margaritas under a hut on the beach, no more thoughts of how much fun I had with my boyfriend AND my rents, (I know! Shocking!), no more thoughts of fro yo on a daily basis, no more thoughts of the most mouth-watering Argentinian steaks, no more thoughts of all the pretty ‘lil lizards trying to be your friend poolside, no more thoughts of being able to work out any time I wanted, no more thoughts of having been able to leisurely read an entire book in a week, and no more thoughts of how much I missed my parents. It was time for Korlina to get back to reality and just deal.
By the time 1pm rolled around on that first Monday back, I wanted to cry (and to drink at least 3 Amstel Brites. Why don’t we have Amstel Brite in the U.S.????). I can’t recall what was so horrible on my Monday back, but I do know this. EVERYTHING was horrible. Not only were the majority of people I now worked with assholes, (well, two, particularly), but I also did not fit in at all. I couldn’t even fake acting like I wanted to fit in here anymore. The one friend I had on the show worked next door in the writer’s office and, clearly no one I worked with in my production office favored him. I was doomed. I knew I was doomed, and I didn’t know I was doomed all at once. Yes, my life IS filled with such paradoxes.
May we please rewind to the Friday when I left for Aruba? I gave my direct boss the news a week in advance that I would have to leave no later than 5pm on that Friday, or else I’d miss my flight. Now this boss is/was (I pray I will never have to see him ever again!) a weird, weird dude. He takes “uptight” to a whole new, terrible level. Remember in “Farris Bueller’s Day Off” when Farris is describing how uptight his friend Cameron is? Yeah, that line that goes something like, “if you stuck something up his ass it would turn into a diamond?” Well, this dude, if you had stuck something up his ass, it would have been the sharpest diamond ever and gone into the Guinness Book of World Records for sharpest stone ever found.
Ahem, moving along, out of the 80’s and back into my life, my boss was uncharacteristically understanding, and even said (GASP!) that I could leave whenever I wanted because he knew the feeling well of worrying about missing a flight. Score! I thought. Of course once the Friday was upon us, he was singing a different horror movie type tune. Long, stupid story, but the incompetent a-hole decided, in front of BigBoss, to blame me for losing a post-it with “crucial” contact info on it for the staff and crew list. I.did.not.lose.this.post-it. He took it back from me. Not only that, but he hadn’t even written contact info on it. He gave me the post-it to put on a friggin drive-on for a person to get into the lot. Sigh.
BigBoss did not like the sound of this all too important contact info being lost (umm, it was probably ONE of the least pertinent things for the staff and crew list at that moment). His eyesbrows got all high on his forehead to the extent that he looked like a Sesame Street muppet. He let out a weird groan. I turned back to less important/direct boss. His eyes burned through his thick glasses. He ordered me to go through every trash basket in the office to find the post-it. I kind of threw up in my mouth a little. I could not believe what an idiot this kid was (I call him “kid” because he’s only 2 years older than me. That makes him a kid, right?). He was an idiot for saying this to me because a.) He didn’t realize what a butt hole he was b.) He was demanding that I do something SO incredibly demeaning that it is arguably harrassment in the workplace c.) EVERYONE (even PA’s) know that in a production office, you go to the accounting department when you need a crew member’s contact info. But not this KID. Fucking KID wanted me to go through the trash ’cause fucking kid is SOOOO afraid of BigBoss.
Instead of doing the right thing, (I now question what state of mind I was in, but I was brought up Catholic. We like to make things harder on ourselves) I announced in a loud voice so that everyone in the office would hear me… “Okay, I’m not above going through the trash. I will GLADLY look through the trash. Well folks, I didn’t do this activity with a smile on my face, AND I didn’t find the damn post-it. I marched into the accounting office after washing off all the garbage filth from my hands. The accountant gave me the number immediatelty, and shot me a “can you believe that dude?” look. I couldn’t wait to be on that plane for Aruba & I would be drinking HEAVILY on the plane.
My mom made dinner our first night in Aruba. My mom is an excellent cook, even when she makes something as simple as pasta and meatsauce. I told my parents about the post-it saga. My mom said I had let them win by going through the trash. I already knew this. I moaned to my parents that I so badly wanted to quit this job. “But Kristen,” my mom uttered between bites of rigatoni, “You wouldn’t be able to receive unemployment insurance. Oh, yeah, that. “Then I hope they fire me!” I announced. J laughed at me, and my dad had rolled his eyes. You know that saying? Be careful what you wish for?
The Thursday before the 4th of July, BigBoss quietly asked me to step into his office. He shut the door behind us, which surprised me. Then, he ushered me over to his white couch. This surprised me even more because I had, in the past three weeks since I started working there, always sat in the seat in front of his desk. I suddenly had to pee VERY badly.
BigBoss sat on the adjacent couch and shrugged his shoulders, gave me a simultaneously disappointed and guilty look, and said nothing. I couldn’t take it anymore, and was about to burst with pee (sorry, but it’s true!). “BigBoss, are you not happy with the work I’m doing here?”
Oh, you should have heard the sigh that BigBoss let out. “I don’t think this is going to work out.” My urge to pee disappeared, and I felt SO relieved. I nodded my head in agreement, but then BigBoss continued his speech. “You just don’t fit in with this group of people. You’re a sweetheart, and everyone loves you, but it’s a personality thing.” Yikes, now my face burned. I didn’t like being told that I didn’t fit in. I went through years of not fitting in, and being told I didn’t fit in, in high school. I didn’t feel like reliving those days in BigBoss’s office. Shudder. I also really didn’t like being called a sweetheart. It immediately made me think of Valentine’s Day candy hearts… those things with the useless expressions on one side that don’t mean anything really, and fade off when you touch them. Those things that are made of such artificial crap. That’s what being called a sweetheart by a boss in the middle of firing you is… fake crap. He didn’t like me, and direct boss didn’t like me. Therefore, I was doomed. Therefore, I was fired.
My ego got the better of me. Instead of shaking BigBoss’s hand, leaving his office, and collecting my stuff as fast as possible, I wanted to open my mouth & defend my years in this industry. “BigBoss, I’ve never been fired before. As much as I know that I don’t fit in here, is there anything that I did wrong? Anything that I could learn from this? I take pride in my work. I’ve thrived on multiple series…”
BigBoss cleared his throught, “Well, no. You came in every morning and wanted to make things work, but I just didn’t see you meshing well with this team. You should view this as a very good day. I got fired from a hit show years ago after the first season, and it’s the best thing that ever happened to me!” I nodded my head, surprised at myself for not having cried yet. Maybe I could make it to my car without anyone having seen me cry.
Bottom line, it is a good thing that it happened. I would have been miserable working there and, I did get what I had so desperately wished for when I was in Aruba. Sure, it hurts my ego, and makes me question myself a little, but I know I will be okay & get another job. It sucks not having a job now, and not having money to play with, but I have my health. I definitely would have lost my mental health working at that job.
So, here I am at 4:30pm on a Friday drinking a Corona and revisiting my blog. I have time for you now, bloggy blog. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, no?
2 comments July 11, 2008
Last Friday I found out from the place where I interviewed at the week prior that I got the job. Wahoo! Only… only… I am still wishing I hear from the other place I interviewed with & get an offer there. Why? Well, it would be a long term corporate gig. Even so, both gigs are a mere 5 minutes away from my apartment. I know! Score! Really, I’ve never had the luxury of working close to home and avoiding horrible traffic, so this is a welcomed treat fo sure!
In cuter news, J and I have a new cat. In fact, it’s technically J’s cat. His name is Sammy. He is completely and utterly adorable. He loves to cuddle, follow you around, and find cozy spots to lounge in. By the way, it was J’s idea to get a new cat because he had started to feel bad for Bette Boop. What with her being alone all day long and getting plumper, he decided it was time. Bette had grown accustomed to being chased around by cats all day when I had a roommate with two cats. The day those 2 cats hit the road, along with my old roommate, the plump by the minute version of Bette Boop was created.
Moving on, on Sunday morning J and I decided to check out an animal shelter in San Gabriel. To anyone out there in the Southern California area, this place had the cutest cats and kittens. Therefore, if you’re contemplating adopting a cat (the only way to do it I’ve decided), check this place out. They also had plentyof dogs desperately in need of good homes. At one point I glanced over at a boarder collie & seriously just wanted to take him from his poopy cage, (I love how these shelters are trying to save animals, but HATE the poop everywhere. I mean COME ON!) and hope that he liked cats. I’m sure he did. He was an old male. You could tell he knew what love was, and that perhaps he once was loved by the owners who he strayed from by accident. To me, that’s what all these abandoned, homeless animals are victims of- accidents. Accidents brought on by the universe. Too many animals, too few people. I’ll wipe a tear away now & apologize for this tangent. What can I say? I loooooove animals. I love all animals. Nope, no basset hounds to be found at this San Gabriel facility. However, there were many bigger dogs and an insane amt of pit bulls as sweet as any other dog a person could hope for, I swear! Damn, that was another tangent, wasn’t it???
Moving on again, a sweet lady named Pat greeted J and I when we arrived at the shelter. She showed us to the girl cat room. It was about 17 girl kitty cats all existing together in one small space, but none of them seemed to mind all too much. I feel as though they were just glad to all be together. The cat I had originally wanted, Yammie, was sitting on a perch. I had seen her pic online and had thought she was the cutest. As cute as she was though, she was incredibly shy. Something about her made me feel as though she wouldn’t be the right fit for Bette Boop. It was as though she was too docile. Anyway, I couldn’t say I was falling in love with any of the cats in that room. One white cat was VERY aggressive, and would interfere whenever J and I tried to pet another cat. At one point she even jumped on J’s back! I think after that he had had enough, and asked Pat if he could check out the boy kitty room just across the way. J must have some kind of charm with the ladies because the girl cats were not too pleased when he left them. Just the same, they settled on my presence as I continued in my quest to “discover” and fall in love with a new girl kitty, just as I had fallen in love with Bette Boop when I adopted her. Unfortunately, in this instance, it just wasn’t happening.
Next thing I knew, Pat returned to the girl kitty cat room without J. I looked across the way & I saw him socializing with the bigger male kitty cats. I continued to ask Pat the standard questions about each and every cat. Is this one good with other cats? Is this one overly aggressive? Is this one better for allergies? Is that one spade? Moments later, J walked in with a glowing face. “I found a really cool cat.” After he uttered those words, I knew we’d be bringing this cat home before I even saw him.
Sammy has the most gorgeous emerald green eyes. He also has the softest patch of white fur on his chest. His body is a lot longer than Bette’s, and his fur a little lighter than Bette’s more severe gray. Right now, the poor little guy has a bad cold and an eye infection, but he’s taking meds & will be just fine.
Of course Bette Boop, being the rather token snobby-pants girl at times, is not being the best to Sammy… yet. I know in my heart that they will get along in time, but for now she will NOT stop with her hissing and showing her teeth whenever he’s near her. She’s also sleeping on top of the fridge, not on her normal pillow on the couch. In fact, Sammy took over this pillow moments within being in our apartment. Perhaps he thought Bette was keeping it warm for him. All I truly know is that I’m thrilled to have a new cat in the apartment! AND now all you guys truly know how much of a cat lady I am!
1 comment May 30, 2008
Sorry, guys. I haven’t been writing all too much on the blog because wrapping this show… is hard hard work. I shall be back… soon. I miss the blog. Oops, but now I better go so I can make sure an IT dude signs a “pick up slip” saying he picked up a computer. Grrrrrr. Yup, that’s been my life for the last few weeks and, yes, these bastard pick up slips haunt my dreams. Again, GRRRR!
Add a comment May 22, 2008
On Saturday I found out that my show isn’t picked up for a 2nd season. A friend at a network texted me the news. Unfortunate? Yes! Am I freaking out like whoa? No, not at all. Ask me in a few weeks when I don’t have a job. I accept the fact that my “profession” is unstable. Why oh why didn’t I go into PR or advertising? Well, aren’t jobs in those fields supposed to be more consistent?
I haven’t told my parents yet because, frankly, their reactions always trigger me to freak. Also, I didn’t wanna tell my mom anything upsetting on Mother’s Day weekend. I can be a rotten daughter, (although I swear I never mean to be) but I’m not that mean. “Yeah right!” you snicker. “No really, I’m being serious,” Korlina. Wink.
Luckily, I have friends who are connected, and I’m sure I’ll land a job soon. I’m not too worried about that. However, I wish I could just walk off this current “not picked up next season job” now. Everyone is in not necessarily bad spirits, but definitely “weird” spirits and, I can’t say I’m all too fond of the vibe in the office. What I can say is that I know when to move on (like I have a choice in this instance…) Even so, I’m comforted by the fact that I can recognize this FINALLY at age 26.
2 comments May 12, 2008
No, I’m not talking about the ‘ole back in the day MTV reality show. I’m talking about today, on stage, at work, in the crafts service area. On most days, my office orders lunch out with the writers. However, on certain days, my boss instructs the production team to go down to the stage & eat the crafts service lunch.
Now I’ve worked on numerous shows & every show has their own drill. Most shows I’ve been on in the past are used to the concept of sometimes production being able to eat on the stage, and, as such, the crafts service person is supposed to order more lunch for the days when production will be eating on stage. It’s all about the word inclusion. Try saying it to yourself a few times before you go to sleep tonight, Crafty on My Show. Oh, yeah, and did I not mention that said crafty has worked on another show that I worked on in the past (canceled, of course) and even the WRITERS ate on stage?!?!? He still hasn’t learned this pretty friggin’ 3rd grade level concept. Ahem!
So today I had to go down to stage after the production lot meeting. Side note: I used to kinda loathe these meetings, but now I heart them thanks to my winning streak at the trivia that starts off every meeting. But I digress… Once I’m done doing my thing on stage, (that “thing” being giving the stage PA vouchers for tomorrow) I saunter over to the crafts service area to check out the crappy food I’ve been ordered to eat on the stage today. Shall we pause this clip for a second? I.am.not.even.eating.a.thing.I.am.glancing.over.everything.not.one.bit.impressed.with.the.presentation.of.shit WHEN…
Camera dude that I don’t even know the name of begins dissing me. “You guys from production and the writers office always take all of our food on stage,” WAH WAH WAH! “You guys have to stop taking all of our food!” WAH WAH WAH. He says this very loudly, in front of a group of people. All eyes turn to me, Fatty Korlina (or at least that IS how it made me feel at the time). I turn bright red, beyond embarrassed. If Ramona had been in my shoes during this awkward “scene” she would have laughed at everyone and demanded, “Got a problem?!?!?” Korlina stutters, “Well, I…I…I… never eat on stage and was told to do so today.”
Crafty got all “Ohhh, do you have a sunburn, Honey?” I reply, “No, you guys have just really embarrassed me. I haven’t even taken any food.” Then crafty mock-yells at camera dude for making me feel bad. He demands that I take the food since everyone else has eaten. I feel like spitting out the words, “Fuck you for not sticking up for me! Fuck you for making me feel 100 times more awkward now! Fuck you for not remembering the million and one times I went out of my way for something for you on this show, and now you’re helping to make me feel like shit! Fuck you for acting like I should only be able to eat once everyone else has. Fuck you for being just another person who uses me as the easy target that I am!” Instead, I grabbed tongs, placed 2 watermelons in a paper bowl, and got outta there.
I immediately tossed the lousy watermelons into a trash barrell outside of stage.
For reasons I cannot fully articulate, this whole incident made me feel (at the time) more lousy than I know I should have let it make me feel. I pass a writer going down the hall on my way back to my office. He says hi in a genuinely nice way. I say my hellos as well. Afterwards, I want to cry. I have to go into my boss’s empty office to get a hold of myself, to stop the nascent onflow of tears.
Luckily, I snap out of my craziness pretty fast. I just needed a moment. I know that. I know I can pick up from where I left off in my day if only I take a few deep breaths and find a space where I can temporarily be alone in my thoughts. I only wish, at times (too many times in my life) that the awkwardness that’s a part of me would go away and never return. If it simply can’t & I’m stuck with it the way one is stuck with their freckles, then I wish I could get a grip. Once again, I wish I could handle situations like Ramona, only with more class.
Add a comment April 21, 2008