i'm blogging again?

I just scored tickets to the xx and warpaint at the Chicago Theater tonight. This is pretty much the best day ever? 

this is not a joke

OMG OMG OMFG!

My boss just walked in and nonchalantly said "Hey everyone, you're looking at the new director of the puppy bowl." 

Then I started jumping up and down and screaming. Then he got freaked out by how into puppy bowl I am. Then I made him explain, interrupting every five seconds to tell him how much I loved when the puppies drink out of the water bowl.

Basically, they are doing it in 3D this year and the company that is filming it is the same company we film all our 3D shows with.  We're doing a Jessica Simpson show the day before they film it and it all worked out. As I am working the Jessica Simpson show, and therefore going to already be in NYC, I am going to do everything in my power to get in on this. It better not fall through or I will quit.

OMG OMG OMFG!

netflix streaming is the death of me.

I can't tell you how much time I've devoted to watching hour after hour of shows that for some reason I didn't get into when they were airing. Most recently: Party Down and every 30 Rock episode from every season. But this time, I've really gone too far. About a month ago, I decided to check out Lost. I am so hopelessly addicted it's ridiculous. There's like 25 one-hour episodes per season. 6 seasons. On top of that daunting task, Netflix has all of a sudden put expiration dates on their availability, making me have to watch even more episodes in my super limited free time than I normally would. I think I watched 8 episodes this weekend. Last night I dreamt in Lost mode. This is another cry for help you guys. Get me out of my house. 

Vic-Vic-Victorious!

Check it: 

Out of over 1,000 teams, we placed 11th. Teams 1 through 10 won awesome prizes. 2 minutes behind!

It was an absolutely ridiculous day. Real post coming soon.

Confessions

I’m pretty sure Top Chef has brainwashed me.

I think it really sunk in on Season 4, right about when I became hooked. After that, an undeniable pattern emerged:

Season 4: Chicago -- Season 5: New York -- Season 6: Las Vegas -- Season 7: Washington DC

I have visited every single one of these cities within a month of the show airing. It’s escalating too. I went to DC mid season. While in DC, along with a really fantastic ethiopian restaurant, we went to the following:

West End Bistro (Eric Ripert)
Art and Soul (Art Smith)
Zaytinya (Mike Isabella)

I was there for four days. We also went to BGR, which while not TC affiliated has been featured on Throwdown and Man vs Food. We didn’t even know until we sat down. There is now some inherent tracking device in my brain guiding me to these places. Don't even get me started on Top Chef Masters. Let's just say thank god Chad gambled all the money we spent on dinners in Vegas back.

When XOCO (Rick Bayliss) opened, I waited in line outside in January for an hour and a half. This Friday I'm going to the Girl and the Goat (Stephanie Izzard). I made the reservation the day it opened. I’m going to Atlanta in October and I’ve already made reservations for Kevin’s restaurant. Seriously, someone stop me. This is a cry for help.

Take a look at me now

I just talked to Phil Collins on the phone.

It's instances like these that make me realize that sometimes I take my job for granted.

You could be a farmer in those clothes

My body feels like it was run over by a train. Twice. For the last month, I've partied like I don't have a full-time job, bedtime, an empty bank account, integrity or reason to live. So when Rebecca asked me to drive to her parents’ farm in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin this weekend, I figured, ok, I could use a slower pace.

Rather than lure me in with the promise of townie bars and a fireman ball (which we did wind up going to), she was hell-bent on taking us to the local apple orchard. This was our gchat about it:

Me: Pat says he’s in but “will kick his own ass before he goes apple picking”
Her: You don’t pick the apples, loser!
Me: What, you just look at the apples?
Her: Yeah, that’s what you do in the country.
Me: No thanks, loser!
Her: We can pet baby goats
Her: We're taking care of a runt baby pygmy goat
Me: That’s got to be the world’s smallest possible goat
Me: ok, I'll come but know that I am pretty much expecting the plot of "son in law" to unfold

To me, this defines a great part of our friendship. Her trying to get me to do seemingly boring things, me declining, her adding some element of novelty, me agreeing. Whenever I try to do this with her, things go horribly wrong. Like the time I convinced her to go ice skating on a frozen lake despite the fact that she was terrified. I showed up at her house, armed with 5 friends all wearing Bulls starter jackets from my childhood and made everyone chant "6 peat! 6 peat!" until she put one on and climbed in the car. After 5 minutes, I got bored and demanded we play crack the whip, which immediately resulted in hysterical sobbing, a blood soaked pullover, and a broken front tooth that she has to go to the dentist every six months to get re-whitened because the nerves are dead. This has happened over the years in some form or another, over and over and over.


But I digress. The farm turned out to be really fun. Mostly because her dad let me drive his steamroller down a dirt path. Yes, his steamroller.

Expect more blogging in the next few days.

Someone Apply

This is insane. 

MMM #3

The only way to shotgun beers.

Language

At some point I'll write some posts about Egypt, but for now here's a little tidbit I learned from a fellow traveler that I really think everyone needs to know: Australians call tornados "willy willys."

Return Flight

You want to know how to really scare the shit out of someone? Seat them next to a suspected terrorist on a 13-hour plane ride to America from the Middle East. Yes, ladies and gentleman, it hardly seems believable, but at 1 am, about 10 minutes after the flight attendants secured the plane for take-off, they disarmed the doors and escorted the man SITTING RIGHT ACROSS FROM ME off the plane in handcuffs. Then a guard in full riot gear came in and took apart all of the surrounding seats, asked a trillion questions, and frisked a couple people. Then we sat on the tarmac for about 2 hours, presumably while security unloaded his luggage/disarmed bombs. Then the flight took off and I watched “It’s Complicated” before troubled sleep plagued by horrific nightmares.  

Terrorist may be a strong word, but from what we could gather he was definitely on a watch list of some sort. The most insane detail of this scenario is that the Cairo airport has the most security protocol I have ever seen. Every single person goes through 4 separate metal detectors and gets their bags opened and manually searched twice. You had to show your passport at every stop, before you got onto the shuttle bus to your flight, and before you got on the plane. So how the fuck did this dude get on? Absolutely Nuts.

Other than that,  the trip was pretty incredible. 

made it back

Stories to come.

Good news

I am SO FUCKING HAPPY that this whole process is over. Next week marks the anniversary of a full year of non-stop, sleep-ruining, movie-making stress. It's pretty sweet to know it actually paid off though:


“Kenny Chesney: Summer in 3D” arrived in 3D theatres nationwide. Aside from the confusion that the movie is not receiving continual showings and is only being screened in 3D theatres, its opening night screenings were strong enough to make it the #7 movie in the nation - and by Thursday, it had out-earned all the 3D films by legitimate music acts except the Rolling Stones and U2.

On the subject of knocking on wood:

I don't really play into superstitious crap, but doesn't it just figure that the day after I write about ignoring raised threat levels for the sake of getting my travel on this news leaks. 

State Boycotts

I went to Pittsburgh last Monday to rep a fan club pre-screening. I wasn’t that thrilled about going there alone in the first place, but figured I’d get to see it with KC fanatics, revel in my accomplishment, and head back to the hotel with a 40 to watch something on TBS. But guess what? Pennsylvania is full of fucking Quakers with weird restrictive laws!

I walked around the grocery store for 10 minutes before asking where the booze was. I was then informed that the state doesn’t allow alcohol to be sold in grocery stores. So then I called Chad and he was delighted to inform me of the following insane laws: 

- Wine and liquor are only sold in state-owned stores called “Wine And Spirits” and all prices must remain the same throughout the state. They are only open 9 am-10 pm, and closed on Sundays.

- To purchase beer a person must go to a restaurant, bar, bottle shop, or distributor.

- Beer distributors sell beer by the case or keg, but not smaller denominations of beer such as six packs.

- Six and twelve packs, along with individual beers such as 40-ounce beers, are sold at bars, restaurants, and bottle shops. A person is only allowed to purchase 194 ounces (16 bottles) of beer at a time in this manner. If you take the 194 ounces to your vehicle and re-enter the business, you can buy 194 more ounces, and continue doing so, so long as you only take out 194 ounces of beer from the store at a time.

Needless to say, I did not wind up drinking that night and I have no plans to ever return to Pittsburgh. 

On the subject of safety abroad:

Chad and I saw Bourdain at the Chicago Theatre this weekend. It made me insanely excited to head off to the middle east. Less than 2 weeks.

This is the first trip I’ve taken that I really don’t know what to expect. I’ve read a shitload of guidebooks and travel blogs and I’m still ready to be surprised and awed by the culture. I’m not all that concerned about my personal safety, maybe naively. I’m more worried about fundamentalist conservative reactions to the amount I drink and swear. I’m also pretty wary of gender equality type things. I’ve read multiple times that if a woman sits in the front seat of a taxi it is considered a sexual invitation. Shit be whack.

For the most part, we’re going the wealthy westerner route. 5 star hotels and cruise, flights instead of trains, private guides and such. Our hotel in Cairo has armed guards, bomb sniffing dogs, and metal detectors before you get to the front desk. I mentioned it to my mom,  thinking the precautions would assure her. They didn’t. To compound matters, the AP released this warning the same day.  

Chad reacted by sending me an email with the subject “We need to make ourselves less jewish looking” with a bunch of pictures of the cast of Jersey Shore attached. Then he went out and jokingly(?) bought a pair of white pants. Perfect travel buddy.

He was less upbeat about the 3 a.m. military desert convoy I suggested we take to Abu Simbel in lieu of our difficulty booking a flight. His email response simply had this link. Point taken.

In the five minutes I watched the news for last night, I learned that there's been 113 murders in Chicago so far this year, 2 girls got beat to shit with a baseball bat on damen in bucktown, and city representatives are legitimately asking for the national guard to patrol the south side to curb gang violence. It’s scary out there dudes. At this rate, it sounds like I'd be better off if I get the hell out of here. 

Chicago Premiere

I have become a statistic.

90 miles per day, 450 miles per week, $70 on gas per week - for two and a half years. 10 hours commuting in soul-sucking traffic every week.  520 hours per year. That’s roughly equivalent to 22 whole days. Wasted. The Eisenhower's going down to 2 lanes. Just kill me now. 

Then there's the ridiculousness of the physical location of my building. To illustrate my point, last week during a power outage, I found myself shooting a bb gun at a can of corn on top of a log in a recently burned cornfield with a bunch of mechanics. I think the context is better left unexplained. This is not what production offices should be like. I miss the streets and pace and the smell of Chicago. It has air you can chew.

I'm not quite sure what the breaking point was. Maybe it was my pay structure routinely being fucked with to the point that I am now freelance (read: paying withholding) but still getting paid my shitty, shitty ass salary wages, not getting compensated for overtime, weekends, or travel days. Or maybe it was being told that we have no chance of a bonus/raise any time soon. Or maybe it was not getting invited to the premiere of a movie that I worked on tirelessly for the last year. Or maybe it's the fact that I get two weeks paid vacation but my boss is making me take unpaid days because of the "economy." There are a thousand other reasons.

There are only a few that I'm staying for and they are dwindling by the day. 

and she's back!

Two 40s of malt liquor before 10 pm + ?__________!__________? = "Rent Tremors 3" written on my forearm in permanent marker this morning.

So I'm head over heels for this guy right now and it just happens to be my boyfriend. Don't you just love when that happens?

We're going to Egypt the first two weeks of May. Cairo, Luxor, Edfu, Kom Obo, Abu Simbel, Aswan and Alexandria. Fuck yeah.

Simon Says

Hang out with me already.

I've become a hermit.

Good vs Evil

I went to Disney World for the first time awhile back. No one made me aware that the World Showcase was America's most expensive bar crawl. In Norway, while waiting for the Maelstrom this little lederhosen-clad pussy informed us we couldn't keep double fisting our Spatens in line. So I exited and did what any normal person who had recently imbibed 8 beers would do: chugged. As we walked back in line mere moments later, he put his hand up, "Can't go in." Chad raised his empty hands and he let us through confused. I hiccuped, glanced back and said "You did this to me." He chortled, "Sure." Then a clap of thunder struck, followed by lightning and torrential rain. Cause and effect? Unprovoked, he escorted us to the front of the line. Epcot was the only park we drank at, but suffice it to say, we DRANK. We got so drunk in fact, that we resolved to dry out a little and only drink one day a week from then until the end of March. As I tend to only associate with drunks/substance abusers and only seem to partake in drinking/substance abusing it has been rather difficult. I broke last night right before a craigslister/murderer swung by my house to pick up some box springs. I just needed a beer, you know? One of those days. The craigslister/witch was a small, fragile, stupid lady and we wound up carrying them down our stairs for her. I bent weird and suffered horrendous back spasms for the rest of the night and now I can't move without wanting to scream. Chad blames this on me falling off the wagon. I'm more of the philosophy that no good deed goes unpunished. That's the last time I give anything away for free. But fuck it, the whole neighborhood smelled like BBQ and no one was wearing a jacket for miles. It might only be 50 degrees, but as far as I'm concerned it's summer, and summer is for loving life and drinking on your porch.

2 Days

MMM #2-Party Game #1

The other night Fear and Loathing was on in at a bar. I happened to look up right during the hotel wig-out grapefruit scene. Light bulb!





Goal: Master the art of wielding a machete while making a normal face (relatively impossible).

Lesson Learned: Since it can slice through coconuts no problem, I probably shouldn't be wearing it unsheathed on a piece of ribbon around my waist anymore.

MMM #1

As it is a "holiday" and the majority of my office is in LA and will be for the next two weeks, you can all expect a drastic increase in posts. I’m thinking about adding a new feature to this bloggy blog. Something along the lines of: My Machete and Me—100 Uses For Everyday Life. The first is, obviously, Champagne Sabering.

Chris Botti ain't got shit on me.

repent

remember when i used to complain about post production and how it bores me to tears and woe is me i'm so bored. i take it all back. every word. just give me a fucking break. oh well, at least i had a good morning. oh, wait. wait. no, actually i didn't have a good morning at all. a two and a half hour commute to work. off to new york on saturday. i'm hoping for at least one romp around brooklyn.

La La La Love You

I feel as if some sort of recap is in order. If nothing else, the days spanning Christmas until yesterday as they were all extremely awesome. New Years deserves at least 2 or 3 entries. The photos are fantastic. This one really makes me smile, mostly because Ryan looks like a math teacher:

















This post is just a reminder/empty promise to myself.

I'll come running with a heart on fire

Oh my dear, dear Jens Lekman, I didn't think I could love you more, but you most certainly proved me wrong last night at the Viaduct Theater.

First day back at work and the last week off feels a month away. Although, I got a promotion today. I am now an associate producer. No pay raise, so it's not really that big of deal and/or change, but I'm a total resume whore so i'll take it. If nothing else, it gives me an excuse to make Chad take me out to dinner.

Napoleon

I'm procrastinating making the 8,000 appetizers I promised because I am insanely hung over and don't want to do anything. Went to Alex's little farewell affair last night. Saw some high school boys I quite enjoyed catching up with. When Zoki walked in Anita said, "who's that guy? he looks like a russian figure skater." I can't stop laughing about that. Because he totally does.

Here's the trouble with throwing parties. I'm really good at it. And every time I have one I feel like the next one has to be bigger and better. And everyone expects it to be because I haven't let them down yet. It's too much pressure dudes. How can I top Kimbowl 2? I get all these hairbrained ideas and for some reason people overwhelmingly support me on them. Yesterday when I woke up I found 4 hundo in cash and Chad's bank card with a post it that had his pin number and "Go Wild." Muy muy dangeroso. Isn't he just the fucking greatest?

I think we have to go classy tonight. Suits, motown, and bubbly.

My machete contact fell through. It was a major bummer as I intended to get really into sabering in 2010 starting NYE. I wrote a distress email to everyone pleading they find a solution. But imagine that, no one could come up with one. Until yesterday.

Ryan went to the army surplus store and bought a motherfucker of a knife. Like bigger than Rambo's. I could cut down an oak with this thing. He saved New Years.

Nehow

I've stayed home sick the last few days and discovered our house phone rings a lot. So I listened to our answering machine for the first time since we bought it and discovered 13 messages from Drew, Maggie, and Volpe screaming/asking what the score to the Sox game (that we were at) was and demands for directions to the nearest Popeyes. Unbelievably hysterical.

Natural Disasters

I’ve blogged it before and I’ll blog it again, I would have sex with Andrew Bird anytime, anywhere, anyhow. Saw him last night at the Fourth Presbyterian Church on Michigan Ave. Absolutely terrific. 

Last night was our anniversary. We transitioned from dating an insanely long time to an obscenely long time. We went to my favorite restaurant in the whole wide world, Bonsoiree. Just go already, it is fantastic beyond reason.

I’m having a New Years party. I have 4 weeks to badger and debase Chad into buying ridiculous and absolutely excessive party favors. So far we have already invested in outdoor heat lamps and coupe champagne glasses for the most epic champagne tower possible. And, this just in, I have recently come into possession of a machete that I will definitely be using to do that crazy sabering trick. 2010 here I come. Everyone's invited.

My office feels like guantanamo bay right now. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I have heard the chorus to KC's "There Goes My Life" over and over and fucking over since 9 am. I honestly can't handle it. I am going to rip my eyes out.

4 inches and counting

You know you’re a true Chicagoan when your boyfriend gives you his hand-me-down heavy duty snow scraper and it’s the best present you’ve gotten all year.

First snow of the season. Puke. Here I come, 2 hour commute.

Chad is out of town for a spell and I have the house to myself. Come over.

Big Screen Debut

How I Spent My Summer Vacation. Check out the video link for the trailer.

I would just like to disclaimer the fact that whoever I con in to coming to see this with me better be ready to sit through all of the credits so I can point and shriek "that's my name, that's my name!" while jumping up and down clapping.

Hell

As many of you know, I refuse to karaoke. I, in fact, have never really done it. Aside from our glorious debut of “Zombie.” Ha. Remember this:














This is peculiar as I am an attention whore and usually revel in the spotlight, as do almost all of my closest friends who I can without hesitation label karaoke masters. Nonetheless, I hate the thought of being in front of people singing solo. My vocal chords constrict just thinking it.

To this day I have been forced to overdub audience vocals with the rest of my co-workers more times than I can remember. It’s torture. It usually plays out by Joe asking us all to audio for a “meeting.” In the middle of the room stands a state-of-the-art microphone. 5 minutes later, lyric sheet in hand, we all have to belt out the songs' chorus over and over, and it’s always a band I don’t listen to and/or despise, like Daughtry.

Since we started editing KC I have had to do this every day. Today we sang "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" 20 times with Joe saying things like "You need to sound more like a girl, more high pitched" or “Sound more drunk. Guuuuuys, sound more like a drunk girl.” Then we did the same thing for a song called “Keg in the Closet.” As far as I can tell, this is not for the actual movie, just a demo reel preview thing.

I have been contemplating ways to get out of this, the most reasonable option being stabbing my throat repeatedly in hopes of a self-inflicted tracheotomy. Any other ideas?

Freebird, Part 2

The Lynyrd Skynyrd taping was everything I hoped for and more. Weirdest show we've ever done. The entire audience was drunk and/or snuck in gigantic confederate flags.

I think Steve had an aversion to loud shrill noises as he would squint and make this weird face every time one was made. That is to say, every time I spoke.

Chad came with some friends and it's the first time I've seen him this week outside of sleeping or groggy morning goodbyes.

Joe told us today that we have a show in New York at the Hammerstein on Wednesday next week. We have nothing planned, no crew, and I don't even know who the artists are. There goes my weekend. Quinne, maybe I'll see you Monday?

As it was the last show, I didn't get all neurotic freakazoid on everyone and instead took it upon myself to get drunk off the 8 million varying-levels-of-fullness bottles of wine from the various meet and greets while people I work with complimented me. Pretty much the best scenario ever.

Summertime in 3D

We're working with the same people who did "This Is It" for the KC release. They just sent over the trailer that will be airing in theaters Thanksgiving weekend. It looks fucking incredible. And now I will have to force my entire family on Thanksgiving day to see whatever movie will be featuring it, meaning whatever movie is geared best toward a rabid country fan demographic. Should be fun.

Freebird

For the record, I'm pretty sure Lynyrd Skynyrd's production manager is batshit crazy. I cannot fucking wait until this taping run is over.

I'm insanely overwhelmed with work and I can't remember why I love doing it anymore. Because I'm a masochist, I'm going to try and start freelancing for Event Architects and see where it leads. Hopefully to dollar signs.

Well it's Halloween so of course I am deathly ill. Deathly. I didn't even go out last night.

Work is literally killing me. 15 hour day after 15 hour day fueled by nothing but the fear of failure and craft service.

Things I plan to do to counteract this:

Las Vegas weekend with Lisa, Dana, Kate, Chad, Larry, Pat and Charlie in mid November.
Colorado with Rebecca, Kurt, Chad, Chris, Matt, Mike and whoever else feels like coming for New Years.
Abroad trip for our anniversary late February. Either Amsterdam, Paris and Ireland OR Egypt. Hopefully the latter.

Give me more.

Aquarius

Just found out we're doing 5 consecutive shows in Brooklyn the end of January/first week in February. The icing on the (birthday) cake: We will be taping a Babyface/LA Reid Hits show the day I turn 26. Maybe he'll serenade me?

B & E

To shed some light on how truly demented my boss is I would love to share a little office secret. The password we need to confirm with the security company that calls when our alarm is tripped is: "Help Me."

Hey pig, yeah you. Hey pig piggy pig pig pig.

Today Frank's son called and said he was diagnosed with the dreaded H1N1. At that moment I was walking up a flight of rickety, splintering stairs in our warehouse while deeply contemplated if I could pitch myself down them and get hurt enough to go home but not to leave any permanent damage. Probability was never my strong suit though so as soon as I heard of this whole swine flu scenario I set to drumming up some symptoms. Trouble is, everyone else at my office had the same idea. Psychosomatic addict insane freaks, all of us. The sad thing is we all have to work regardless.

Too. many. projects. I'm currently doing almost the production coordination for a Chesney meeting in Nashville Monday and Tuesday, a Tim McGraw show on Wednesday, Michael McDonald rehearsal the next Monday and Tuesday with a taping on Wednesday, followed by another taping with another group of artists all with different representation on Thursday, and then another show the next week, and that's on top of my normal workload. I have about 15% done. The rest of the year is already booked up with 4 NY shows this winter, 3 Grainger shows in March, 6 Chesney premieres in different cities and god knows what else surrounding the release supposedly in April, 4 LA shows in May, and multiple small 3D shoots at iconic outdoor venues throughout the summer. Bitch, bitch, bitch, blah, blah, blah.

Domesticity

So my lack of entries/a life can be attributed to three things: constant work shit, house project shit, and Don Draper. I have done nothing but answer emails, paint my house and watch the first two seasons of Mad Men for the last week.

I've got the Willies

T Bone Burnett is officially and slowly driving me to the brink of insanity.

I hate owning a car in Chicago rant # 2456

My parked car got side swiped by some drunk fuck last night. I guess there is a downfall to living next to a bar.

Perfect for PBS

Apparently the label pitched the Flaming Lips to Joe. He went around asking what we thought, if they'd be a good band for us, "yes, yes, yes, yes, show's super fun, a real spectacle" from everyone.

End of conversation.

At what point should we tell him about the furries, confetti and this entrance?

Aspirations

Remember when I wanted to be a journalist? My dream job entering college was to be an editor at Esquire. What a joke.

I've been on the submission board for a literary pub for awhile now. I forgot how much I lovelovelove editing. Our next volume's theme is fears. I think I will take the opportunity to write about my issues with the deep blue.

You know what sucks about not being able to swim? Not being able to swim! But that's not all. I feel as if my miserable standoff with water can be used to my advantage, for once. I shall funnel my shortcomings into a provocative and hysterically witty piece of non-fiction. In your face, water deeper than 6 feet!