January 21, 2005

  • Catch deuce deuces…

    I’ve been away. So sorry, so sorry. It has been a week. Friday, I looked upon a slow and easy day. I basically had two things to do before freeing myself four three days of fun, past the MLK Monday. (Happy MLK Jr. day, by the way). And then the call came in: a hotshot editor from LA was going to “four wall” at our place. We needed to impress him, and yet we barely had the room for all the jobs that were coming in, and we needed the extra avids to load one job while the editor cut another. Oh and they were bringing local drives and we needed to rent a specific dock but we only had one G5 that had the right SCSI (pronounced scuzee) card to connect and we had to move it to a better wired room and then rent a PAL (pal is the frame rate and resolution standard they use in europe, different from our NTSC, which is why you cannot watch tapes from over seas on our vcrs) beta to load and buy DVD Studio Pro so they could burn presentable DVDs with menus that had their graphics… basically, a shit load of work, including producing oriented things that are not really my job. It also looked like Monday would no longer be set my Dustin free day.

    Kerry was coming , and this all got plopped on the assistants because not a single boss was there.

    I got pissed. But fuck it all, I got it done (with help from Robert Sarra and Mitch, bless their hearts). Then party time Saturday brought flu time.

    Then one visting editor turned into two, and two new jobs started at the same time for my editor. I worked until one in the morning helping the one assistant, Rennie, that they brought breakdown ten TC hours (time code hours, a reel of film usually around 15 minutes).

    But I also finally asked for a tech raise. Let me explain, for the last six months, I turned into not only the mac fix my email tech guy, but the avid one as well. For whatever reason, I became the fastest troubleshooter. I was the tech guy, and the assistant, but only getting paid for one. So I asked for tech money, and I got it. Which fucking rocks. I actually feel like they are giving me what I am now (thanks to them) worth. Except now it’s official. The tech thing is my JOB.

    And john sold some portraits to his school for a nice chunk of change, so I went to his house to celebrate. Angus was there, and we played poker. Mary had made some delicious banana bread, and I had like four pieces, way too much. When I arrived home, because I felt like I still had to kill the flu, I took a shot of Nyquil and fell asleep.

    Only to wake up at five forty-five in the am with that pitty feeling in my stomach that signals booting. So out came the bloody looking half digested banana bread nyquil frappe, the volatile combination combusting in my gut.

    I hate throwing up more than I hate packing, and let me tell you, I fucking hate packing.

    So now im shadow cutting one job while my editor cuts the other, and not getting enough sleep.

    But im rich, bitches!

Comments (2)

  • At first, I thought you took a picture of a turd you took and was really grossed out. But then, I read what you actually wrote, realized it was a pic of vomit, and got more grossed out AND nauseous.

  • You love it when i show my defication. Admit it.

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