aS PER some request i've decided to talk more about my work place. the awe of being employed again has settled into routine. which allows me to begin to more effectively observe my environment. i've managed to befriend two PA's- although not many conversations pass they seem to genuinely be glad to see me, and welcome or initiate the morning hello.
it's like, why not you know? although i have as yet to conquer the post coordinator and sup. they seem elusively indifferent and won't even look up when i pass- aware or not of my presence. if i directly say hello they'll respond but even when asking the group of us 'loggers' a question they usually address the head logger craig. who is the guy that ignored me yesterday. and i look up excited to hear about a conversation then am crestfallen when it's not even addressed to me and they could care less for my enthusiasm of how we're going to 'rock the number of tapes' we have piling up. the supe left with an 'okay' if you say so-- sort of long with an imagined eye roll. i mental note to try and not talk again in their presence as it seems to just infuriate and interrupt them- as the Supe is constantly whistling the sad mash song- of course he probably doesn't know the lyrics about 'suicide being painless' but still. it instigates my own random whistling and i suppose he must be threatened. the coordinator merely plays battle games online all day- and as he now officially shares an office with the supe, moved his desk so you can't see what he's doing... they have the tv on and have recently put up a large italian flag-
back in our little nucleus we are a week or more behind on tapes- but we have another week left where tapes won't be coming in so we can catch up...
however i note with some obsessiveness that the amount of tapes i output equals that of both cindy and craig combined. and as try as i might to slack off it apparently does not equal their slacking off. as there are only so many calls to take, emails to check, online stories of heroism to ignore... i do take to collecting fruit stickers and putting them on the paper that has my name and title on it- hoping by the end to have it be a many splendid color menagerie- this kills only a miniscule amt of time, then i become wary as the same people keep spotting me in the breakroom. it is possible that i am trying every minute to resist the bag of doritos or hershey's minis- but whatever- i'm getting water/dietcoke/stringcheese and collecting stickers! this morning as i was putting my lunch away the Ross PA said hello and we had a discussion about coffee, and how this coffee tastes chemical-ee - i myself abstain, to which he replied: that's probably why your teeth are so white. i left and smiled- thinking, this was a good way to start the day.
the one person in the box i talked to most, was maria, the story assistant- she was just relocated to a less remote location but comes by to say hi- she was the one i most talked with and now to my back there is a gapping hole of silence. usually i can harass matt the post-release coordinator to talk to me and cindy as well- usually if it pertains to footage and then sometimes about other things... but mainly it's just me, spinning my chair around, stalking the breakroom and hitting my tennis ball against the white cinder brick wall. occassionally i get up to look thru a locked door that's in our box- where strangers are trolling around in a dark non-flourescent paradise... and i wonder if they look in on us as well. i try to note their locations, see if they're doing anything interesting on their computers. this most often leaves me remarking on them like i would about the weather and walking away.
then i just go back to playing with the tennis ball- when i told cindy and matt they could each have one they both flat out declined- i'm thinking that tomorrow i will bring in a koosh ball or maybe a paddle ball and leave them on the shelf to see if they'll take part in the fun. i am skeptical. i hang my head in shame with the realization that i am "that girl"... who makes the ball against the wall noises, who occassionally lets the ball stray under the desks of the other co-workers... and comments on things like- can you believe, and isn't this a, wouldn't it be cool if... the time. passed. by. quicker. with. conversation. and not the dead silence of productivity. a well oiled machine. a non-commital-ness. we have not the time to stand idly by- 2 months left and we vanish into the ether of gig, no gig- meanwhile i'll try to watch the ball-noise level and attempt to share my sunflower seeds with the box folks- i thought about baking them cupcakes but that might be too obvious.
aS PER some request i've decided to talk more about my work place. the awe of being employed again has settled into routine. which allows me to begin to more effectively observe my environment. i've managed to befriend two PA's- although not many conversations pass they seem to genuinely be glad to see me, and welcome or initiate the morning hello. 
it's like, why not you know? although i have as yet to conquer the post coordinator and sup. they seem elusively indifferent and won't even look up when i pass- aware or not of my presence. if i directly say hello they'll respond but even when asking the group of us 'loggers' a question they usually address the head logger craig. who is the guy that ignored me yesterday. and i look up excited to hear about a conversation then am crestfallen when it's not even addressed to me and they could care less for my enthusiasm of how we're going to 'rock the number of tapes' we have piling up. the supe left with an 'okay' if you say so-- sort of long with an imagined eye roll. i mental note to try and not talk again in their presence as it seems to just infuriate and interrupt them- as the Supe is constantly whistling the sad mash song- of course he probably doesn't know the lyrics about 'suicide being painless' but still. it instigates my own random whistling and i suppose he must be threatened. the coordinator merely plays battle games online all day- and as he now officially shares an office with the supe, moved his desk so you can't see what he's doing... they have the tv on and have recently put up a large italian flag- 
back in our little nucleus we are a week or more behind on tapes- but we have another week left where tapes won't be coming in so we can catch up... 
however i note with some obsessiveness that the amount of tapes i output equals that of both cindy and craig combined. and as try as i might to slack off it apparently does not equal their slacking off. as there are only so many calls to take, emails to check, online stories of heroism to ignore... i do take to collecting fruit stickers and putting them on the paper that has my name and title on it- hoping by the end to have it be a many splendid color menagerie- this kills only a miniscule amt of time, then i become wary as the same people keep spotting me in the breakroom. it is possible that i am trying every minute to resist the bag of doritos or hershey's minis- but whatever- i'm getting water/dietcoke/stringcheese and collecting stickers! this morning as i was putting my lunch away the Ross PA said hello and we had a discussion about coffee, and how this coffee tastes chemical-ee - i myself abstain, to which he replied: that's probably why your teeth are so white. i left and smiled- thinking, this was a good way to start the day. 
the one person in the box i talked to most, was maria, the story assistant- she was just relocated to a less remote location but comes by to say hi- she was the one i most talked with and now to my back there is a gapping hole of silence. usually i can harass matt the post-release coordinator to talk to me and cindy as well- usually if it pertains to footage and then sometimes about other things... but mainly it's just me, spinning my chair around, stalking the breakroom and hitting my tennis ball against the white cinder brick wall. occassionally i get up to look thru a locked door that's in our box- where strangers are trolling around in a dark non-flourescent paradise... and i wonder if they look in on us as well. i try to note their locations, see if they're doing anything interesting on their computers. this most often leaves me remarking on them like i would about the weather and walking away. 
then i just go back to playing with the tennis ball- when i told cindy and matt they could each have one they both flat out declined- i'm thinking that tomorrow i will bring in a koosh ball or maybe a paddle ball and leave them on the shelf to see if they'll take part in the fun. i am skeptical. i hang my head in shame with the realization that i am "that girl"... who makes the ball against the wall noises, who occassionally lets the ball stray under the desks of the other co-workers... and comments on things like- can you believe, and isn't this a, wouldn't it be cool if... the time. passed. by. quicker. with. conversation. and not the dead silence of productivity. a well oiled machine. a non-commital-ness. we have not the time to stand idly by- 2 months left and we vanish into the ether of gig, no gig- meanwhile i'll try to watch the ball-noise level and attempt to share my sunflower seeds with the box folks- i thought about baking them cupcakes but that might be too obvious.
4 comments:
You're gonna get in trouble for writing on that window.
Funny thing about the others...
Through that door, the computer on the left is occupied by a fellow named Tuan. I can tell you more about the others, and you can amaze them with your knowledge.
no way! maybe i could pin up notes that only they can see. now that would be rad.
The seat is up...in the women's room?
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