With all that is going on in the world today why on earth is Miley Cyrus one of the top news topics? Seriously. Think about it. Do the stupid photos she had taken (obviously to help get her foot in the door for the over “tween” scene) really matter that much?  People are starving, dying, wars raging and we’re concerned with this?  Shallow is the best word to sum it up.

While we don’t have a massive yard here in the city, we do have a yard and it needs to be mowed. I didn’t want to invest in a gas mower because a lot of the grass we have will not be there after a while as I am working on making it into a proper garden. It would be silly to have a gas mower for such a small patch of land. I also figured I wanted to be kind to our environment and not waste money on any more gas, so I asked my husband to get me a push mower or as I have always thought of the “The Leave it to Beaver” mowers.

The first time I ever saw a mower like that was on the intro sequence on the “Leave it To Beaver”. Something about them I liked. However, I am not to sure now.

Granted I don’t call it the “Leave it to Beaver” mower anymore. No. Now it is my portable exercise machine. Or torture device. Whichever you choose. In the long run though I know it will be a good thing and it has done a great job on making the lawn look nice. I just need to start taking pictures to record my progress.

On April 11 I was sitting on the computer on the third floor when suddenly there was a massive boom, the dogs went running, the house shook, and I looked up and saw the house across the way splintering and disappearing in a cloud of smoke, dirt and debris. I screamed “Oh my God!” My mom jumped up and ran to the window as I did. My husband was in the basement and hearing the explosion as well and my screaming came tearing up the stairs. I told him the house near us had just exploded.
We grabbed our shoes and ran out the front door, along with other neighbors.
We got there and a few firemen were already on the scene trying to assess the situation. The entire site was flattened. Electric poles falling over and nothing but rubble. A dog was running around and refusing to come to anyone. It looked and smelled like a gas explosion. Glass from surrounding buildings windows was in the street.
More officers and fireman began to arrive and they worked on getting animals and people out of the close buildings.
I went and got the older man who was standing shell shocked by his house. He was a bit pissed with me for forcing him to go and not letting him go back inside, but I was fine with him being pissed at me.
We left to make room for the rest of the rescue crew and there was little we could do.
I could see the fire hoses from our window and there are were helicopters flying over head. It’s scary indeed. This is one reason I don’t like gas. 

When I moved to Pennsylvania in August of last year I never anticipated it being the battle ground for one of the most historical presidential primaries ever.  If I had known then what I know now, I may have postponed the move.

I am so sick and tired of the ads, ringing door bells, posters, phone calls and hype.

Personally I think which ever candidate we get, it’s going to be pretty much the same presidency. Even if we get “old man McCain”, it’s simply going to be a four year recovery of the Bush Empire.

Honestly, I still don’t know if I would vote for Clinton or Obama. They are pretty much the same. All I know is that I never happy with primaries because I have a serious problem with party members going toe to toe like this, drawing blood, pointing out what is wrong with the other members of their party and then when losing saying how they back the winner just three weeks before they were tearing apart in the media. It’s a bad signal and dirty pool. I think the primary’s need to go the way of the do-do and give us all a break from this idiocy that will only continue into the race for president.

I am sure from the last few posts about my job (refer to “Two Words” if unclear) it may come as no surprise to you when I say that extras casting is a miserable job.  However, I am done with it.  The story in itself is long and I have plenty of little side stories to go with it, but right now I am going to keep it simple. Partly because it’s a bit to traumatic to relive just right now and the other is I need to get it all sorted in my head. I think I will be sitting down to personally journal it all and then make sense of it and post it here as it becomes a bit more coherent.

The entire job was a bit of a mess. By no fault of my own. I am generally a very organized individual (as those of you who have worked with me know) but I can handle chaos. But it seems that this gigantic, cluster F*&% of a job was a bit more than others involved could handle.  It wasn’t very organized, not just at our end but in other departments as well. Last minute changes like “Oh, we don’t need three hundred extras for Tuesday, we need 600. Oh, it’s Thursday and we’re telling you this? Sorry.” Or other things like saying “We need the social security number for every extra coming to work at the airport for Homeland Security Clearance and then coming in the next day; “Oopsie, we need the date of birth as well.” But to make a long story short, the originally casting director quit, a “recovery” one came in (I enjoyed working with both), the assistant casting director quit and with the recovery casting director only being there for a two week contract another casting agency in town took over. So in the midst of all this shuffling, drama and generally madness, I said my goodbyes.  I didn’t cry.

Regardless of the bad things that happened, am I bitter? Moi? Of course not. I actually met a lot of great people that I had a fun time working with and learned a lot (one thing being I don’t want to work in extras casting).  Do I wish the pay had been better? Of course.  Do I wish I had gotten more sleep? Of course. Would I go back and have never worked there? No.  It was great to see this side of movie making and to get a bit deeper in the inner construction of it all. Now I just hope I can watch this film without cringing too much remembering what I went through. But by golly I’ll be able to tell you most of the names of the faces you see in the background!

The husband unit has moved jobs. Still telecommuting but now it’s for a different place. Be sure to check him out at http://gadgets.boingboing.net/  Tell your friends, after all, it’s fun to say Boing! Boing!

Casting still sucks.  Seeing this side of the movie industry is not only an eye opener but it’s an educator in many ways. I can’t go into all the details for a few reasons but I can tell you that working 19 hour days for minimum wage (okay, time and a half after 8 hours) isn’t very glamorous. Being on camera is much better than being behind it.

Casting sucks.