Ribbet

“There is no such thing as time” ~Albert Einstein

Not one to argue with a genius, I nodded in solemn agreement as I marveled at the Monday morning adolescent bulbous zit on my chin.

***

Always and ever so grateful for work, I embraced the fact that I had been hired to do eight days on a pilot; and somewhat giddy at the idea of meeting two more Hollywood icons, I actually looked forward to the usually tedious process.  I would laugh!  I would enjoy the brilliance of comedic talent!  And I did!   

For exactly four hours.

Like a tweenager uncomfortable with where I’m supposed to sit on the first day of high school in the cafeteria, I meandered awkwardly around the stage before selecting a chair next to a few co-workers at a table away from the sets, and spreading a civilized napkin across my lap, prepared to nibble quietly on my lunch.  But unbeknownst to me, the territorial pursuit of hierarchal supremacy in our group had already begun…

As if self-relegated to the end of the table like a kazoo player in band, the littlest one was gnawing the remaining meat off a spindly BBQ rib enthusiastically, occasionally breaking into to song for no apparent reason whilst simultaneously confessing his reluctance to eat fish these days because he felt “like, really, really bad for Japan”.  But (fortunately?) as Fate would have it, most of the indiscernible prattle had fallen upon the tuned-out ears of the entitled rich kid (slash) son of a big wig who barely deigned to notice anyone else’s presence.

At the other end of the table however, where I had recognized two faces from the past who both waved me over as their long lost best friend, I suddenly found myself caught in the middle of a most uncomfortable passive/aggressive pissing match.  

As one person had been hand-picked by the Director, the other chosen by a VIP from the Network, the two found themselves at a ‘who-knows-who’ standstill; and with no proper judge to deem either one of them superior, suddenly my worthiness to even sit at the same table with either one was verbally challenged as to just who high up in the food chain had happened to hire me.

“The 1st AD" I cowered in a fetal position, wrapping my arms protectively like a prison convict around my lunch (hey, it was macaroni and cheese!) should this confrontation become an all out jail brawl and poo start flying. 

But as the dominant popular kids are prone to do, I was again embraced as the long lost best friend (slash) crippled zebra on the table – either to be lovingly nurtured or savagely ripped apart limb from limb.

***

Now as any normal human being might do, I took comfort knowing that I’m secure in my skin (as it were) and refusing to be disarmed (as it were) by the jungle beasts, I did my best to avoid conflict.  After all, nothing good is to be gained if you allow yourself to be eaten!

But by Day Three, my patience was waning. 

The ongoing battle for dominance in the high school jungle was becoming unbearable. 

Cringing at the shrill hyena laughing and spontaneous bursts of blasphemy at any ad-libbed mishaps by the actors, I buried my head in the sand like an ostrich trying to tune out the obnoxious noise of the cheerleader who was busily multi-tasking as she attempted to instigate fear at the threat of our Director’s temper (“He is SUCH a screamer!”); his intolerance of people who don’t know how to do their jobs (“I saw him fire a stand-in right in front of all the cameras!); as well her self-importance of knowing said Director (“I’m sooo glad I’m his favorite!”).

And with a guttural sigh of exhaustion, the Alpha Male of our class (a veteran of television for forty years) retreated out of sheer annoyance to chain smoke outside and double his blood pressure medication.

***

Now logically, as a grown up, I knew that much like the bullying in high school, “this too shall pass”.  After all, the cast were delightful to watch, the Director never really blew his stress-o-meter past “agitated”, and despite the tedium of five long days with no overtime pay, at least my trusted friend Lori had joined our ensemble making the idle down time (when our actresses weren’t working) that much more pleasant.

Unfortunately, the introduction of my younger, prettier and also red-headed friend only seemed to fuel the fire in the belly of the cheerleading jungle cat…

As Lori and I were unable to imagine why we would be kept for show night, I caught the eye of our 2nd AD and quietly inquired as to our status for the upcoming Wednesday shooting.  And as if smelling fresh blood and possible weakness, there by the AD’s side appeared the cougar drooling with anticipation. 

“God, I hope not” was the reply from the 1st AD in response to the 2nd AD as to whether or not we would have to stay; sending Lori and myself into joyful elation – the sound of which absolutely infuriated the Alpha Female.

“Well, just so you know” the cougar piped up anxiously to the 2nd AD, “I’ve worked with this Director LOADS and LOADS of times before, and just so you know” she continued authoritatively “I’ve been on shows where he not only kept the stand-ins after the audience left, but REBLOCKED the ENTIRE EPISODE!  Oh yeah!  Oh yeah!” she nodded maniacally as the AD wandered off to anywhere else that could only be better.

It was a dark magic.  Possibly the darkest magic I have ever seen.  The ability to suck the joy and hope out of all those who dare to come near it…

***

With only three days left on what should have been a positively thrilling adventure, I slept the sleep of the dead until 4:30pm Saturday afternoon.  My appetite for food failed me; my energy was zero, my soul in peril.

But as The Universe always conspires to assist, I remembered an email I had received about three years ago from my friend and Life Coach Ellie Mae, a wonderful, inspirational piece that I’ve kept in my inbox most aptly titled “The Upside of Irritation” (Courtesy of DailyOM.com):

The goal of spiritual development is not to learn to control our environment—which is more of an ego-driven desire. And while having some measure of control over our external reality is important, it is when we are confronted with a person or situation that irritates us and we can choose not to react that we know we have made progress spiritually. It is when we have mastered our internal reality that we will have become the masters of our lives.

The more we try to eliminate annoyances, instead of learning to handle them gracefully, the further we get from developing the qualities that come with spiritual growth, such as patience, tolerance, and acceptance. It is often in the presence of people and experiences we find annoying that we have an opportunity to develop these qualities. Fortunately for most of us, our lives offer an abundance of opportunities to practice and cultivate these traits.

***

Arriving once again level-headed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed early to work on Monday (perhaps not the best choice when being hunted like prey), I found myself hustled onto our morning location shoot just as an ‘anybody’ for the lighting crew.

“Security says you have a green Toyota, Penny.  Would you go get it?  We need cars parked on the residential street” our 1st AD asked kindly, shuffling me back to the parking structure.

Uncertain as to where I should specifically angle Cecilia (my car) against the curb, like a true confident Hollywood star she coasted easily onto her undesignated mark (selecting her best lighting?) and waited patiently (for the third time in her career!) for her (ironically again) Colorado ‘wardrobe’.

And gushing once more like a proud parent I couldn’t help but take a photo and exude my excitement for my 1997 Toyota as she positively snarled with annoyance at being subjected to be placed on-camera sans proper waxing.  (That's my diva!)

(I was flogged for three days with the orange "check engine" light.)

“We are going to be here together FOR-EVAH!” the dastardly jungle beast cougar reappeared salivating all over our jugular veins.  “And they’re going to keep us!!!  For show night!!!” she beamed, thrilled that should any of us actually have a real life, such utter nonsense would have to be put on hold.

***

As a stand-in candidate for a mid-season show, I returned a call to the casting company to confirm my availability and with the help of my friend Lori snapped a few head shots as requested with which to email the ADs as to my “current look” and hair color.  I was excited!  I was hopeful!  I was even thrilled (slash) embarrassed to be caught by our Director who casually wondered how many photos I wanted taken in the sets, only to be wished well by him should I get the job!

And scurrying away properly, Lori and I disappeared into the house seating only to be confronted yet again by the unrelenting cougar…

“Super-duper great for you!!!” the cheerleader piped up once again.  “But just so you know, if the DP is who I think it is, not only will he make you wear a wig, but he’ll also keep you for lighting for like six hours every single night!” she beamed; positively delighted at my possible future misery… 

***

Wandering around the studio lot in search of solitude, I plopped down in a chair underneath a forlorn staircase and embraced the quiet. Never before had I ever been so annoyed by someone at work.  I was irritated.  I was festering.  And contemplating the situation I couldn’t seem to regain any proper sense of “me”.  If anything, I had become Lindsey Lohan in “Mean Girls”, a catty, bitchy, uncontrollable mess whose inner dialog had succumbed to the forces of evil around her. 

And unable to save myself, I pleaded for a sign from above…

Ding!

Looking up for no apparent reason other than searching for my own sanity, I glanced to the heavens for guidance.  And discovering the sloppily glued thermometer stuck to the underbelly of the staircase, I sat in appreciative awe, grinning at the wide-mouthed bass forever immortalized as unable to pluck the joy from the happy leaping frog.

In hindsight (after festering for four more days), I believe I’ve learned yet one more valuable lesson in my ongoing “quest to make sense”.

Being comfortable in your own skin doesn’t prevent others from crawling underneath it occasionally – the trick is to not let them live there for too long.

May you skim the pond happily,

~Zit-free Kermit P