So not cool.

If you remove the handrail from the catwalks (to load equipment into the perms), you really should re-install it when you're done.

Whomever took this out didn't bother to put it back (yes, it was like this when we got there) - and, if you're wondering, this photo was taken from about 35 feet up in the air.

The Lying Sack of Shit

Walkie talkies are so much more than a simple communication tool. Without them, we'd not have nearly as much fun as we do.

At some point during the early afternoon today, someone accused the set lighting department of 'being dishonest with production'.

I have no idea why it happened, how it happened or what led up to the accusation. At the time, I was on the truck and only heard about it second-hand - in the form of "Wait 'til you hear this!" from one of my co-workers.

Of course, this immediately caused a lot of mirth in our supposedly dishonest little department. My boss started it by jokingly calling one of the other juicers a "lying bastard", which sent us all into hysterics right there on the lift gate of the truck.

It quickly escalated on the walkie when we started referring to each other as "lying sack of shit" - as in "Hey you lying sack of shit - where are those stingers?" or "I know you told me you wrapped those lights, but I should probably double check because you're a lying sack of shit."

If someone didn't respond to his or her name the first time (and sometimes you don't), the next step would be to yell - you guessed it - "Clock in*, you lying sack of shit!"

By the end of the day, I was breaking up halfway through "Sack of shit", and one of the other guys couldn't even say that much because he'd start laughing right after he managed spit out the word "You".

This has officially usurped the "Cheez Nips and a punch in the mouth" joke that had just about run it's course (it had actually gotten out of control - I have a water bottle holder on my toolbelt and yesterday, someone removed the water bottle and filled the holder with Cheez Nips while I wasn't looking).

On the way home, my boss called to tell me that he'd moved me to the rigging crew tomorrow (they're day exterior and don't really need three people since they'll probably not do any lighting). The stage is three blocks from my house, so this is a huge favor - tomorrow's location is a half-hour drive for me.

When I said that I would miss them (so not true - I'll have an eight hour day and my call's two and a half hours later than theirs), he said "Don't worry - I'll call you every 15 minutes and lie to you".

If only I could believe him.

We are, after all, a bunch of lying sacks of shit.


*"Clock in" being what someone says to you when you're daydreaming and should be working - as in "punch the clock, you're at work."

Nothing tonight (okay, maybe something)

I'm in 10 hour turnaround - we wrapped after 8 pm, and my call in the morning is 6 am.

There's actually a lot to write about, but I'm off to bed.

UPDATE: This LA Times article (which, today, I've really been regretting - I'd dug myself into a nice little rut and now I'm all out of sorts) has spawned some fantastic emails.

Here's one from tonight: Chris Hager's Local 80 Photographs

These are fucking amazing. Local 80 are grips - and these are some fantastic portraits of my grip brothers and sisters. You want to see what "we" look like?

Here we are.

At least the weather's nice on this guilt trip.

I hate turning down work.

If you turn someone down too often, they stop calling you at all ("Oh, she's booked all the time, I'm not going to even bother"), which is a very bad thing.

The job I had to turn down today (my day off) would have been working until 9 pm and then I'd have to be back on the low budget at 6 am tomorrow. The problem with that is that a 9 pm wrap (if they wrap at 9) means I'm not leaving the stage until 9:45, I don't get home until 10:15, and I won't get to sleep until 11:30.

A 6 am call means 5:30 for breakfast, which means I have to leave my house at 5 am, which means I have to be up at 4:30 am. No matter how I crunch those numbers, I'm left without enough sleep, and I used up my carte blanche to be cranky last week.

That and I put off doing my laundry until today, so had I worked I'd have had to walk around in rank clothing all week. Eeew.

I did the laundry, and went to see Jarhead with the Boy Who's Really Cute But Is Way Too Young For Me.

Right after the movie let out, I got called to work on the scale show that I helped load in a week ago. It's a week of work downtown at night - but I'd have to bail off the low budget for those five days (starting December 11th).

Five days at scale is a considerably larger amount of money. Five days on a scale show with a full crew and good coffee. Five days on a show which runs beyond Christmas (the low budget ends December 23rd), so there's a chance of getting work in January, when I know it's going to be slow. Five days with a best boy that I really would like to keep calling me, so I don't want to turn him down.

Five days on a show which would leave my boss on the low budget - whom I like a whole lot - scrambling to find someone to replace me.

I know what he'll say when I talk to him. He'll say "of course you should go to the higher paying show. You'd be silly to turn down that kind of money. We'll find someone", and he'll mean it, but I've seen him in the truck, making phone call after phone call because no one wants to work for this rate when it's busy and there are so many shows paying scale.

So now I feel guilty.

Dammit.

I told the best boy on the scale show to pencil me in, pending my ability to find a replacement for myself. If I have to turn him down, hopefully he'll understand.

If not, I'll have potentially burned a bridge (so to speak), and that sucks.

I'm off to bed.

Holy Crap!

I knew there was going to be an article in the LA Times about me, but I had no idea it was going to run on the front page of the Calendar section.

Wow.

Although I still feel the attention isn't justified (I am, after all, just a worker bee), I'd like to welcome any new readers and raise the following points:

I welcome reader responses, but sometimes can't reply to them due to a seriously overloaded work schedule (or an exhaustion-blown brain). Don't take it personally if I don't reply to your comment or email right away.

I try really hard not to lapse into techie jargon here, but I sometimes slip. If there's a term you don't understand, please ask and it will be explained.

Swear away. I have a potty mouth, why shouldn't you?

Speaking of potty mouths, this blog does sometimes raise adult subjects and uses adult language. It's probably not appropriate for children, although I doubt any of them would want to read it anyway.

I'd also like to apologize to the writers of all the wonderful blogs out there that I haven't had time to read lately. I still love all your blogs, I just don't get the computer time when I work 14 hour days.

Since I have Monday off (woohoo!), I'm going to a friend's party tonight.