Wednesday, May 7, 2014

The Resurrection Reticence of One Red Cent



As the holy Sisters of Merciful Employment continued to bless me with ever-so sacred call times for my sixth week in a row on sit-coms in Hollywood, I clasped my hands together thankfully in prayer that prior to my SEVENTH week without a hiatus; I at least had Saturday and Easter Sunday off.

Granted I wasn’t particularly proud of the excessively dark thoughts swirling about my sinister pea-brain prior to a religious holiday - unearthly antitheses of the festivities of pastel colored eggs, straw baskets of plastic grass and church-going parade attendees clad in bonnets.
Nay my proclivities were provocatively being lured, enticed and tempted to The Dark Side, as despite my attempts to remain faithful to my uplifted spirit; my flesh was emotionally drained; my mind – a muddied eddy of a cesspool; my will - fragile as the puffballs billowing off a dandelion during a warm summer breeze.

And so, curtains closed, lights turned off (cell phone too) and the poot unplugged, I slept the sleep of The Dead from Friday night until Saturday at 4:30pm.
>>><<< 

Easter Sunday
Still not feeling properly “resurrected” (if you will), and unable to get my weary corpse out of bed again until 4:30pm, I was still in no mood for any confectionary bunnies as I dragged my carcass out of the bat-cave.

After all, the following Daring Duo of Lightness and Darkness have resided rather frighteningly in the far back of my refrigerator since approximately 1988 (I kid you not – they’ve become a Darwinian experiment as to their longevity – what the hell are they made of???):

 
 

 
But by golly, I was going to find a way to celebrate Easter!  And if that meant a trip to McDonalds for a Habanero Burger Meal at the Drive-Thru in my pajamas, then by the grace of God, a feast would be had!
However...

Toddling outside the pearly gates of my apartment building, I stood baffled at an unmarked car blocking my beloved Cecilia.  No note on the windshield, no information left on my Toyota, not a Post-It tacked on the door.  (Hmm...)  And dialing the crappy Landlord (only to get voicemail) as well as crappy Landlord’s Mom (more voicemail), I tried the phone number of my friends who moved out a month ago but whose names were still listed on the landline outside.
“Are you and Holly visiting?!” I asked Jon hopefully, as they were seriously lovely people who couldn’t have been kinder regarding my weird work schedule and the sharing of the tandem parking up our hill.

But as Jon and Holly were already moved into their new home, I was left with only two choices:  call the Police and have an automobile towed off of private property, or risk the Sheriff throw me in handcuffs for peeping into Holly and Jon’s apartment for signs of life.  (Well, hop, hop, hop up the stairs, bunny rabbit!)
With movement stirring behind the blinds, I knocked on the door as I briefly met my new neighbor (I’m guessing by her accent, Eastern European?), who suggested that we exchange info and text each other as to our cars and departure times.  (I gave her my card, as she promised to text me in the future.)

And while she kindly allowed me and Cecilia out for our celebratory take-home feast, illicit dark thoughts possessed me once again, as returning home to my cave, the newest apostle to the sanctuary of my building boldly chose to occupy the ENTIRE parking spot in our ten minute absence; leaving Cecilia and me to fend for a leper’s location curbside on the street.  (WTF???)
>>><<< 

As my neighbor actually departed around 5pm, I was blissfully able to place Cecilia back into her well-coveted niche, and despite my wonky call-times for my week without any textual scriptures regarding parking, I clasped my hands together thankfully once more that for the love of God; I had no drama with the new resident, and a mere THREE days left prior to a WHOLE WEEK OF HIATUS!
Oh, I possessed the patience of a Saint!

Oh, I would certainly be canonized for my tolerance!
And of course I’d undoubtedly nail all scenes (yikes, poor choice of words?) as I helped to cover a co-worker who was too under the weather to report to the Stage for a day of camera-blocking. 

>>><<< 
Unfortunately, apparently The Universe just wasn’t quite YET satisfied that I be properly blessed with a hiatus until I could withstand yet one more trial as to the heart of practicing the simple act of Kindness given any circumstance...

And cue the biblical deluge of elderly Background Actors!!!
Good Lord!  They were like locusts!  Each one hungrier and crabbier than the next!

As one lady scavenged Craft Services, she snarled contemptuously that despite an entire double refrigerator stocked with (FREE) cold beverages, none of them were particularly appealing to her palate or dietary requirements. 
Not to be outdone, a gentleman with an armload of clothing for the Wardrobe Dept., eyed a seat in the midst of our Second Team grouping, which despite the pre-set purse, sweater and script splayed open by an obvious co-worker, he attempted to plant his ass in her pre-ordained chair.

“I’m sorry, but someone’s already sitting there” I piped up helpfully.
“Oh yeah?” he barked back.  “Well I don’t SEE anybody!” he harrumphed.  

“She just went to the ladies room...” I cowered; an awkward moment to be sure, as my friend CJ came to the rescue. 
“There’s red tape right HERE!” CJ unearthed her way through our co-workers clothing to establish our righteous point as Mr. Crabby Pants stomped off bitterly.

Lastly, caught peeling apart sandwiches with her fingers to try to determine precisely which particular deli meats appealed to her, another frustrated co-worker had seen quite enough.
“You touched it.  That one’s YOURS.  Take it, and go NOW.”

>>><<< 
As pre-shoots of our show happened to surpass our scheduled late lunch hour, our UPM was kind enough to provide a Food Truck on the Studio Lot for those of us who were still looking at four or five more hours of working well into the evening. 

Blissfully, the BG Players had been dismissed, and with nothing left to do but receive the blessed confirmation that they had filled out all of the “I Swear I’m Not a Registered Sex Offender” paperwork, they would be happily sent off onto their chosen paths.
Yet grabbing two cheeseburger sliders from “The Patty Wagon” outside for my dinner, I found myself most uncomfortably oppressed by a BG Actress (who bared an uncanny resemblance to Joan Rivers – I’m just sayin’...), who despite her petite stature, literally “cowed” me into submission.

“Where’d ya get that?  I didn’t see no burgers at Crafty!” she bellowed belligerently, an unpleasant tinge of orangey lipstick smeared across her front teeth.
“Um, they’re from the Food Truck out there” I squeaked, pointing to the elephant doors.

“What?  I have to go ALL the way OUTSIDE?!” she continued crabbily.
“Well, I think you might need to check with the ADs before you even leave the stage” I suggested gently.

(Seriously, people?  You were fed for free all day!  How should I know if the production company is offering you a catered lunch too?  Go HOME, already!)
Oh dear friends, The Dark Side had begun to take over once again...

And searching for the Goodness and Light, I bit happily into my first cheeseburger slider, only to woefully discover that “The Patty Wagon” ran true to their grass-fed prophesy, that “our cows eat Vegan, so you don’t have to!”


Cute!  Cunning!  Clever! 
And freaking dry as a one humped camel in the desert.

“I hope you get your burgers, ya old bat” I whispered to myself regarding the Joan Rivers wannabe.
(YEP.  The Dark Side had officially WON!)

>>><<< 
Personally, I’m still baffled as to why the Almighty Hiatus is so powerful and painfully necessary.  I love my job to be sure, so why must we absolutely REQUIRE breaks from the joy of the creative process?  Do we just burn out?  Heck, I only survived seven weeks of work in a row before I nearly lost my mind and snapped at an elderly lady!  (My complete internal dialogue was far too shameful to type here!)

And as I “try to make sense”, I can only speak for myself that as to the first three days or so of time off from work, I’m still toiling relentlessly hard in my sleep.  (We’re talking Spielberg-worthy films in my dreams.)  (I don’t even know how to work single camera!)
So whilst I generally prefer to leave you, my kindest readers, with a mere tale to be told (there’s no “like” thingie button need be pressed, nor any pressure to email me back), I’m curious as to your personal take on the Almighty Hiatus if you have any thoughts.

>>><<< 
Meanwhile, seriously “resurrected” (if you will) after nine days of complying with the demands of my body to stay up late (or randomly hang from the rafters and nap like an old bat (karma?) in the afternoon), I think I’m finally back to myself and ready to embrace the bliss of humanity, kindness (and comedy!) once again.

Well...  that is to say until I found my car parked in by my new neighbor on my very first day back to work, FFS; who didn’t respond to my text, and who SERIOUSLY would’ve been met by the full fury of my wrath were I not rested, relaxed and practicing forgiveness, damnit!
Ah, but yes kind friends, despite any written notification from my crappy Landlords, and sans so much as a call to the landline or a knock on my bat-cave door that Cecilia has a new parking roommate; I’m choosing to take the high road of faith that we shall overcome.

Therefore, please indulge with me in a high five to The Universe for a spectacular twist of Fate (and an AWESOME sense of humor); that during my blessed Hiatus, my new neighbor who moved in upstairs (I kid you not), is ironically named “Cecile”.
And as to my rejuvenated spirit and joy of returning to the Light?

Let’s just say, today I frolicked and had a ball!!!
~Perky Penny Cottontail



 

4 comments:

Pete said...

Hello PennyGal,I abs love the Bunny with the Carrot in Hand... >
Yeah it luks like yer had a ball too . . lols
Thanx to The Merciful Holy Sisters of Employment, for You Perky Penny Cottontail,sadly my health has not been too Merciful lately but I'm seeing Doc's left right 'n center ter try 'n get a better hold on growing an ole fella.

Pete said...

Oh yeah meenwhile how doz I set a pic here in this section Perky Penny, doze it needz me ter start a blog or sumthin ? ? ? ?

Pete said...

Are you on Skype Penny maybe if so you kin learn me on the howto's with tis site ! ! ! !

Michael Taylor said...

I don't know why the hiatus week is so important to us... but it is. Normal people work fifty weeks a year with an occasional holiday off, and they don't complain too much about it, but every time my show decides to push us four straight episodes before a hiatus (rather than the usual three), I feel like I've been sentenced to a stint at Devil's Island.

Maybe we're just spoiled.

That said, we've both been doing this for a long time now, and thus are fully adapted to the rhythms of "normal" sit-com work. Fuck with that rhythm, and the crabbiness wells up from within...

Still, I'm glad you're working -- these are good problems to have.