Tag Archives: Entertainment

The Entertainment Industry and Its Sucky Ass Corporate Ladder That Encourages Abuse – WARNING: Extra Long Blog Entry

Ever go on a rant amongst friends and deeply regret it after the fact, realizing that you should’ve instead just kept your mouth shut or watered down your opinion? Well, I did that last night and although with this post I don’t intend to water down my opinion, I am giving myself a do-over. A no-holds-barred, completely honest, articulate and lengthy do-over full of well thought out, personal accounts that had all of the context I was missing when I ranted last night.

The conversation had been about Hollywood – as I’m sure you’ve figured out by the title. We (<—me and my friends) all work in the entertainment industry so it’s often the subject du jour when we get together. My one friend works as a full time assistant and the other works as a freelance or part time production assistant. I am an independent producer. I’ve done a few posts that point out my reasons for leaving my corporate, day-to-day entertainment job and although I didn’t touch too much on my problems with the industry as a whole, I talked enough about it to give y’all an idea that it wasn’t exactly my cup of tea. Well, with the conversation I had last night, I talked about my problems with how the United States (and maybe even the entire world) views labor as well as how that affects the way we work and the toxic culture that thrives in the entertainment, tech and news industry. I especially touched on the kind of jobs my friends were working (and that I had worked at one time).

I’ll break up this post into subject headings because it’ll help me to organize my thoughts better, to be honest. So let’s start with society and it’s view of labor.

TIME AND LABOR

Time is our most valuable resource. Whether you’re enjoying yourself for five minutes or having the worst five minutes of your entire life – it’s time that you’ve spent and will never get back. And in that sense, everyone’s kind of on equal footing in terms of how valuable our time is because nobody’s living forever and there’s no surety of when each of us are going to pass away. With that said, why do we have a society and labor force that says that someone can spend nine or ten hours of their life every day doing a job and still not have enough money to pay for basic things like food and housing? It’s one thing to be in financial debt but paying someone below a living wage for a job that takes up the majority of their daily life is like putting someone in a kind of time debt. It’s not possible to generate more hours in a day. And if you need more money, the only option is to use up what precious hours you have left to work another job and try to make up a decent paycheck. So many Americans are currently doing this and have done this for years in order to survive. And I think the worst part is that we’ve created a society that makes people believe that if you don’t work a “prestigious job” or a job that requires extensive education then you deserve to make below living wage.

Here’s the thing… we all can’t be doctors and lawyers and if a person wants their job to be their life’s purpose, that’s up to them. However, it doesn’t mean that those who’s passions don’t fall within the “prestigious job” category or those who are working for the sole purpose of paying their bills and sponsoring their lifestyle should be penalized. Not everyone’s passion is their work. Some people are passionate about their children or their gardens or their social life. Some people love bowling, reading, painting, building things, collecting items, travelling, dancing, etc. This is not even to mention the people who ARE passionate about their jobs but still can’t make a living doing it because it’s not in the “elitist’s list of acceptable occupations club” (social work, anyone?). Bottom line: if you work at Pizza Hut and just want to be a contributing member of society that’s able to buy a home and a car and go on vacation a few times a year then who’s to say you shouldn’t? Ultimately, classism and it’s inextricable ties with labor have created the idea that some people’s time is more valuable than others. But the catch is… it’s not. No one person’s time is more valuable than another person’s.

One of the biggest shockers for me coming from a working class household was the realization that the more money I made, the less labor I had to do and, in some cases, the less hours I had to work. For all of the shitty, minimum wage jobs I’ve ever worked – the physical strain and hours I needed to work in order to see a half-decent paycheck were endless. There were people who worked these nine to twelve hour per day, labor-intense shitty ass minimum wage jobs alongside me and still had to collect public assistance because it wasn’t enough for them to take care of themselves and their family. And plenty of people will say, “yeah, well they made bad choices” but at the end of the day, if they choose to work hard at a job – isn’t that a good choice? Shouldn’t that be rewarded? The fact that so many actually turn their nose up at people who suffer minimum wage jobs lets us know that job shaming has allowed us to internalize society’s fucked up view of what a person’s life is worth.

Which leads to my next point…

WORTH

Along with status comes a certain level of respect that society says you should have. And if you don’t believe me, then go to work and slap your boss in the face. Of course, the very idea of this is laughable because not many would be stupid enough to do this. But there are plenty of people who have been physically or verbally abused by their bosses. Hollywood is gaining notoriety for this – particularly sexual assault. A person who slaps or verbally intimidates their boss would be afraid of being fired (losing their livelihood) AND possibly being hit with criminal charges. Why doesn’t that work the other way? Why are there so many abusive bosses who have NOTHING to fear?

When I was talking with my friends last night, I told them that I can’t go what we call the “assistant route”*. I told them that I refused to spend ten hours of my life every single day doing heavy labor and competing with others for the opportunity to devote even more of my time/life to some huge corporation that has no loyalty to me whatsoever. I told them that I wanted to be valued and I didn’t like how those in lower positions were treated in Hollywood. What I said – of course – sounded insensitive. My friends work as assistants and are therefore going the “assistant route.” They’re smart and will likely go far in Hollywood. But there are two things that I think I could have given more detail. Those two things are the abuse and discrimination that happens in the entertainment industry. And when I say abuse and discrimination, I don’t just mean sexual assault or not hiring people of color.

Abuse and Discrimination

Entertainment is an industry that mixes art with commerce so of course there’s going to be some eccentric and unconventional methods that creatives use in a typical work day. And dollar is king. So if a director or producer that’s a real money maker for a studio has a difficult personality, they’re going to be protected at all costs. Pair this with society’s disregard for those lower on the totem pole and it’s open season on the powerless. Entry level employees working long hours, being paid very little and being treated terribly.

Additionally, so many people are happy to be working in such a competitive industry that they’ll take whatever they can get in order to move up. The “this too shall pass” mentality is rampant in the entertainment industry and after all of the crazy stories that have emerged about women being sexually assaulted by powerful men, it’s easy to see why “this too” has been passing for all of these years.

In film school, we were taught to expect mistreatment. We were told that we had to have a “thick skin” to work in entertainment. And although this is true in any industry, we’d also heard countless stories about the notorious “casting couch” or people who were berated and verbally abused in their day to day lives. Some of us even experienced this first hand. These stories shook me to my core because as someone who suffers from depression and high blood pressure, being verbally abused or even physically intimidated at work has the potential to be a matter of life and death for me. It could also rule me out as a candidate for entry level jobs that could lead to the jobs I ultimately want to do. I’ve managed to keep my blood pressure under control but I’ve accepted that depression is my life long battle. So what do I do if my mental illness is kicking in and I go to my minimum wage, twelve hour a day job and my self-bullying sentiments are amplified by an insensitive and extremely unprofessional boss? In every sense, it’s not worth it for me. So I try not to take that chance. I try to work for emotionally stable people and in environments that are professional. But the odds of finding that in Hollywood are slim to none (in my experience.) There’s always someone that is waiting for their opportunity to release their rage onto someone that they deem powerless.

I learned at the end of my career in news that I didn’t have the mental well-being to deal with abuse in the workplace. The way that I learned was through my body. At the time I was in my fifth year at a local news station and while walking to my car after a long day, I’d received several calls from my abusive boss. She’d left me messages telling me to come back. I turned back around and walked into the building to receive her wrath. She yelled and ranted at me that I’m not dismissed until she personally dismissed me (although that was never a policy and I’d already stayed fifteen minutes beyond my nine hour shift just hanging around). She proceeded to tell me how (in her words) I “fucked up.” She physically pulled me into my editing suite and pointed out every mistake I’d made that day, told me to correct them (which I did) and told me to sit and wait until she said it was time for me to go. After about ten minutes that I sat in, what was essentially, “time out” she dismissed me.

Being that I needed that job to pay my rent, I put up with this treatment but it affected my health. After that day, I’d started getting migraines. Being that I’d never experienced this before, it freaked me out. I was in so much pain I thought I was having an aneurism. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear. I was shaking so hard that I could barely drive home. After that, I managed the pain of my constant migraines as well as I could but my anxiety level of going to work began to manifest itself in different ways. I made bad choices. Misplaced things and forgot entire blocks of time. I would sleep through my alarm and through the day, to the point where I would miss entire work shifts. It was like my body was physically putting an end to this job whether I liked it or not. I tried to explain to people what was happening to me but I couldn’t because I didn’t understand it myself. And this only helped to make my depression worse.

It’s taken me years to understand that I suffer with depression. It’s taken me even longer to realize the many ways that depression manifests itself in me. Along with that, however, I’ve learned what I can and cannot allow myself to experience for over eight hours a day. And one of those things in the “I cannot” category is abuse. For the record, no one should have to deal with abuse, but just like there are children who survive being bullied and manage to thrive and those who get bullied and shoot up their entire classrooms or commit suicide, I know that how people handle abuse is not one size fits all. Just because an assistant had a stapler thrown at them, survived it and then went on to become the CEO doesn’t mean that another person’s life or career couldn’t be severely derailed by that experience.

As someone who had no power, no money, worked looooooong hours and was desperate to one day move up, I was easy to exploit and abuse. And although I’m older and wiser, the disability I suffer with knocks me out of the running for corporate entry level jobs that often come with a side order of abuse and minimum wage. This, folks, is the discrimination I was talking about.

And as a side note: I know it might sound like I’m just an extra sensitive person (or “snowflake” as my husband and annoying trolls on social media have been referring to each other lately) or someone who “couldn’t cut it” in a rough work environment. But gone are the days where I seek to take pride in my ability to withstand abuse. I think the more we address mental illness and exploring healthy workplace environments, the better society as a whole will be. Everybody benefits. To use the “bullying in schools” example, a low tolerance for bullies equals a better classroom not only for the child being bullied but the teachers and students who weren’t. In seeking to create a healthy and professional work environment for those with disabilities and mental illness, we’re creating a work environment that’s healthy for everyone.*

While women and people of color who have traditionally been passed over, ignored and excluded from the entertainment industry are beginning to break in, those with disability – mental and physical – are continuing to be excluded on the basis of an implicit bias within the film industry.

Okay, one more story and then I’m almost done. Hang in there, you’re doing great!

I went to a panel discussion at a really small Women’s film festival in L.A. a few years ago. Now the panel that I went to was about diversity but imagine my shock when I arrived and saw that there were only white people on the three person panel. There was a gay man, a bisexual woman and a man in a wheelchair. My first instinct was to get up and go but I stuck it out attempting to suppress the cynicism oozing from my pores. I’m thankful that I did because the gentleman in the wheelchair educated all (7 or 8) of us in the room about the ableist nature of working in the entertainment industry. The lack of wheelchair ramps, how break rooms are set up, how offices in general are set up with no regard for the physically disabled.

Placing this within the context of entry level work, the discrimination he faced became as clear as day.  Studios and production companies require entry level employees to perform a lot of physical labor and compete amongst other able bodied entry level people doing the same tasks. You have to be an “eager beaver” ready to go the distance to prove your undying loyalty to a demanding boss or company. A friend told me he’d interviewed for a position where the interviewer told him that his going out and choosing the perfect donut for his future boss should be done with the same seriousness and care that his boss takes when choosing their studio’s next film. Now if someone’s ability to be a great executive or writer or whatever hinged on their ability to perform obscure tasks unrelated to the job, then this would make perfect sense. But making a mean cup of coffee or picking up dry cleaning doesn’t mean you can write well. This is just an outdated method that Hollywood uses to vet potential employees and their commitment to the company. And it knocks people out of the running that would have otherwise been able to lend a much needed and long absent viewpoint to the kind of stories we tell. You barely see people in wheelchairs, the blind, deaf or hearing impaired, amputees, or anyone with disabilities in front of the camera because – well – they’re not behind the camera. Many of them can’t get past the first rung on the ladder – which is having access to that first entry level job.

So I write all of this to say that I despise Hollywood’s “assistant route” because it’s a stupid, outdated system that:

  1. Discriminates against people with disabilities (both mental and physical)
  2. Exploits the labor of marginalized people (women, POC, poor, etc.)
  3. Supports society’s classism and elitism in regards to job shaming
  4. Protects abusers and encourages those in power to abuse their positions
  5. Uphold’s society’s jaded view of labor, time and what another person is worth

I would love to write about the array of sexual abuse allegations that have come to light recently but I’ve written enough for tonight. For now I’ll say that as a Black woman from a humble socio-economic background, it doesn’t come as a surprise to me in the slightest. I’ve always been of the mindset that those lowest on the food chain get to see society at it’s most honest. Our country teaches us not to value the time – and therefore the lives – of those it deems “less than.” So ultimately, if there wasn’t abuse in the entertainment industry (an industry that in it’s very essence, tells the stories that reflects our society’s values) then I’d be surprised.

 

  • The “assistant route” in the way that I’m using this phrase means moving up through the Hollywood machine by starting out working as an assistant (usually to an executive at a studio). By taking calls, running errands and scheduling for an executive (or agent or producer, etc.) an assistant is able to listen in on important calls, do important networking and learn about the industry via an indirect immersion into the environment. An assistant is lucky if they have a boss that A) promotes them quickly B) mentors them and/or C) doesn’t treat them like shit.

 

  • I believe that a lot of toxic office culture that many of us have experienced is mental illness that’s trickled down from higher ups who’ve never been diagnosed or forced to manage it in the workplace.
Advertisements

Wonder Woman Review

Screen Shot 2017-06-09 at 11.59.37 AM.png

I saw Wonder Woman the other day and thought about writing up a review… then I read David Edelstein’s shit show of a review and his subsequent shit show of an apology for said trash-ass review and realized that it’s my duty as a woman and a human being with (common sense) and a background in film to write something up about the movie, so here tis…

In the critically panned Batman V. Superman: Dawn of Justice, Bruce Wayne summons Diana Prince – otherwise known as Wonder Woman – out of hiding. And thank Zeus, he did. With an impressive weekend box office debut, the first female-lead super hero flick in over a decade sparks a glimmer of hope for the DC Extended Universe films which have (up to this point) stood in the shadows of Marvel’s Cinematic Universe and their constant onslaught of wins.

Wonder Woman made her first appearance in DC comics in 1941 and has since been well-known among comic readers as well as everyone familiar with the hit TV show from the 1970s (or the re-runs, anyway) and has pretty much been engraved in our collective superhero memories. In other words, this movie directed by Patty Jenkins and starring Gal Gadot, is well overdue and has been highly anticipated.

Jenkins, well aware of this pressure, starts the movie off on an awe-inspiring note. We meet Diana Prince – Wonder Woman’s alter ego – similar to how we met her in Dawn of Justice, she’s an antiquities curator at the Louvre. The setting is dreary and grey as she looks at a mysterious photograph from her (very) distant past. Moments later, we’re whisked away to the beautiful island of Themyscira, home of the Amazons. A sea of vibrant blue, white sand, lush foliage and Amazonian warrior women. Gorgeous, fierce warrior women training, skillfully riding and doing tricks on horseback, shooting arrows and being outrageously bad-ass. The sudden burst from slow and dreary darkness to action packed brightness is a smorgasbord for the senses, reminiscent of the moment Judy Garland’s Dorothy opens her eyes to a world of technicolor. Unlike every superhero movie we’ve ever seen up to this point, in this one, there are powerful, interesting women everywhere and well . . . we are NOT in Kansas anymore.

 

In this setting, we meet Diana as a precocious child, naturally inclined to becoming an Amazonian warrior and being shielded by her overprotective mother, Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen) who clearly knows something that Diana does not. Regardless, Diana is trained by her aunt, General Antiope (outstanding performance by Robin Wright) and grows up sharpening her warrior skills in the event that the evil god of war, Ares, might return and wreak havoc. After a shocking discovery about the extent of her powers, Diana does not have much time to process before she is saving a blue-eyed damsel in distress, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), from a watery death immediately after his airplane crashes off the coast of Themyscira. It’s at this moment that the outside world of men meets our heretofore peaceful Amazonian kingdom. The Amazons’ perpetual training is put to the test in our first (and my personal favorite) epic battle scene that sees our warrior women going to battle against German soldiers who pursued Trevor to the island. The warriors utilize their horseback riding skills, archery, deft hand to hand combat and bad-ass-ed-ness to kill these dudes but they’re no match for the mens’ weapon of choice and the only weapon that doesn’t rely on physical strength or effort – guns. This battle is hard won by the Amazons and sets our protagonist on a mission to end the Great War (World War I), a phenomenon Diana believes has been brought on by Ares in an effort to destroy mankind. Shortly before they leave the beautiful, peaceful island of bad-ass women being awesome, viewers get one last treat in seeing Chris Pine naked.

From here, we are brought to the grey and dreary world of London and everything is in direct contrast to what we’ve seen in Themyscira. The movie makes no qualms in showcasing that although our main character, Diana, is a fish out of water that believes she’s been shaped from clay and brought to life by Zeus – she did not just fall off the turnip truck. She can write in and speak over one hundred languages, is well-versed in the sciences, politics, philosophy and, of course, combat. She knows what a penis is and what it does but just doesn’t understand why having this body part dictates so many confusing rules for society. Trevor acts as Diana’s guide, but he learns quickly – as does the audience – that at no point can he or any man protect Diana. She has this part covered and frankly it’s just not that kind of party. Trevor instead attempts to explain and translate the muddled, unspoken languages and rules of mankind, which is even more futile as Diana only sees the world in black and white and right and wrong. “Just take me to the war so I can stop Ares,” she demands and despite his confusion and trepidation, Trevor has no other choice.

In a nod to the first superman, there is a scene after Wonder Woman is given her alter ego, Diana Prince, where she protects Trevor from some bad guys in an alley. Diana deflects the bullet (wink, wink) with her arm cuffs and makes light work of them before heading to the Imperial War Cabinet with Trevor as he hands off a notebook to his superiors. In this scene, the men are flustered at the idea of a woman being in their midst while Diana, however, is outraged at the cowardly and morally backward decisions that are being made by these so-called leaders. This common theme runs throughout the film as Gal Gadot’s piercing eyes, inquisitiveness and confidence lends to the character not so much a doe-eyed innocence but, an unabashed idealism that questions and challenges pointless traditions. In a sense, Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman lightly touches on the endless frustrations of woman-hood in an excruciatingly backward male-ran society.

Despite all of the fighting scenes up to this point, Wonder Woman does not quite wonder woman until the scene where she is literally in the trenches. Not understanding why she can’t just cross enemy lines, Diana bypasses Steve Trevor’s admonitions and climbs onto the battlefield with shield and sword in hand, completely taking on every bullet. In this scene, beautifully shot and extremely intense, the superhero takes form. If you didn’t believe Gadot before, you do now and similar to the motley crew that follows her – the viewer does as well.

Jenkins attempts and succeeds in giving Wonder Woman an optimistic and hopeful take on an otherwise dreary world. And she does it in a way that does not strip the character of her wisdom or fierceness. Steve Trevor is also a fully realized character who recognizes and trusts the hero’s abilities early on and – when he’s not following her lead – he utilizes her as a kind of highly intelligent weapon. The romantic portion of the film is mutual and light staying in line with the film’s PG-13 rating but there doesn’t feel like too much is missing in this department as the sexiest scenes take place on the battlefield.

Despite all of the salacious action sequences that utilize quick cuts, slow motion superhero jogs/leaps/walks, and tremendous explosions, the movie manages to avoid the recent DC Extended Universe mistakes of taking itself too serious and being too brooding. Steve Trevor’s secretary Etta Candy, for one, is delightful and while Trevor’s weird group of buddies should have been fleshed out more, they were introduced on a fun note and managed to add some light moments. The “bad guy” characters, however, could have used a bit of work as Lundendorff and particularly Doctor Maru had a campy thing going on that I’m still trying to figure out whether I liked or not.

There’s one glaringly bad casting choice that’s made and it comes as a reveal near the end of the movie. It’s a spoiler, so I’m not going to give anything away but I will say that a VFX moment only helps to magnify and confirm this unfortunate decision. Although this sets the climax back a bit it doesn’t manage to break up the film’s momentum and the movie is delicately brought to an end leaving us in the exhilarating afterglow of having actually watched a DCEU movie that wasn’t straight trash.

Ultimately, Patty Jenkins managed to climb out of the proverbial trenches and do what no man could. How deliciously appropriate!

Anne with an E

So I just finished the Netflix series Anne With An E and I’m angry – not with the show itself – but with how the season ended.

To be sure, I thoroughly enjoyed the series. Casting was impeccable. The lead character of Anne was played by Amybeth McNulty who was practically made for this role. Loud, overly-dramatic, wiry and gangly and believable as hell. I’m probably a bit bias because the character is very much like my niece. Anywho, I was drawn into the show by Amybeth’s performance. Also, I love slice of life period dramas. In other words, I knew I was hooked when I saw Anne heating up toast on an ancient looking stove or scenes where the Cuthberts sit around eating turnips and various turn of the century meals that don’t look appealing at all.

From what I’ve heard there are a bunch of Anne of Green Gable purists who feel that the TV show is terrible because it strays too far from the books and takes a dark turn. I can dig it (as the show definitely has some dark elements) but I don’t agree that the show is bad at all. I think Anne with an E is great if you – like me – have no idea what to expect. I turned it on because Netflix featured it on their homepage (very effective marketing) and I liked the little girl’s face. The character’s talkativeness and positive outlook on life despite her horrible experiences as an orphan were at times heartbreaking and other times pleasantly entertaining.

Anne with an E brought to mind the kind of books that I enjoyed as a child and makes me regret not reading this series back in the days when I had time to breeze through books. So many of the things Anne said were “deliciously” quotable and super inspiring to me. I particularly like this quote…

“It’s been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.”

Insert heart-face emoji here.

There’s a side of me that curses like a sailor, holes up in my room for hours, hates the world and just wants to punch people in the face all day. And then there is the side of me that wants to run through a field collecting cherry blossoms and petting puppies and this show totally appeals to the ladder. I would absolutely recommend this show to those of you who just want a good ole fashioned, story about a town full of white people in turn of the century Canada and the cute (and kind of obnoxious) red-haired orphan with a big imagination and an even bigger heart.

SPOILER

So time for me to talk about what annoyed the shit out of me. And don’t worry, it’s not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things. The show ends on a cliffhanger as Anne invites a man into her house. This man is one of a pair of criminals who intend to rob (and likely hurt) the Cuthberts. She doesn’t know this, of course, but we (the audience) do. So as soon as Anne lets this guy in, the camera lingers on her unsure face and her emotions go through a range of nervousness and optimism that is totally unnecessary and confusing considering she’s not supposed to know what’s happening.

The show ends with us worrying about the safety of Anne and the humble family that so kindly saved her from her tragic orphan life. But this final scene was the only time I questioned the acting in the series. It was almost as if the character was saying, “Gee whiz! It seems me and the Cuthberts have gotten ourselves into quite the pickle. Stay tuned for more adventures of Anne with an E next season!”

Other than that, it was all good and I enjoyed it with abandon. I’m currently looking for the next series to get into. I’m thinking it might be Hap and Leonard.

A Good Script is Hard To Find

I recently wrote, directed and produced a comedic web series. And now that that Herculean task is nearing completion, I’m back at square one… looking for my next project to produce. Here’s the thing – I don’t really want to write my next project and I’m not too fond of directing it either. I just want to produce. The problem is, I haven’t been able to find a worthy script.

One thing that people don’t really know about producers is that we are the people who do the grunt work. We gather all of the resources and people needed to make films possible. The investors, the crew, the salespeople, the marketing team, the special effects, you name it we have our hand in it. It’s not an easy task, so having a good script is the first requirement.

The first thing a producer has to do is fall in love with the script. Why? Because we will have to be the film’s biggest cheer leader. We have to be. How else are we going to keep things going? How else would we get money for the project? How else are we going to get people excited enough to see the film and to tell their friends to see the film? How are we going to keep ourselves motivated enough to see the project through to completion. So all of these things add up to this one fact: it’s gotta be a good script.

Because nobody’s going to be putting their blood sweat and tears into something they don’t believe in. Especially the person responsible for getting the thing to happen in the first place. So with this in mind, I’ve been looking for something that’s going to knock my socks off. Something that’s going to be my foray into the big leagues of feature length films. Unfortunately, I gots nothing. And the pitches I’ve been getting have so much more promise than the actual execution of these ideas. Also, I get a lot of great pitches from people who aren’t motivated enough to sit down and write the damned script. That frustrates me more than anything.

I have plenty of directing buddies. Plenty of crew people I can call on in a jam. I know a ton of producers, like myself. But my writing buddies fall into one of three categories…

  1. People I wouldn’t work with because they don’t know how to take notes.
  2. People who can’t finish a script and/or can’t tell a good story.
  3. People with no scripts.

In no way am I complaining, though. I feel like I’m being lead toward something else. And that ‘something else’ is writing my own script. Begrudgingly, I’m leafing through old notebooks and spreadsheets of abandoned projects and deciding to hunker down and get them done. Sometimes when you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. My only problem is, I don’t know if I can do it right.

No time like the present to find out.

Exodus into the Job Abyss

I’m leaving my place of employment and here’s the dealio. I’m feeling good about this decision but I don’t know that I’ve ever given y’all the details.

So here’s some things concerning my premature ejaculation…

from my job:

 

WHEN?

My last day is this Friday.

WHY?

I’m leaving this gig because I’m overqualified. That’s prettymuch what it all boils down to. I could break down all of the little things that make me want to leave but every grievance, complaint, annoyance, mistake and/or confusion within my workplace experiences centers on the fact that I am overqualified to be doing what I’m doing.

WHAT EXACTLY AM I DOING?

My job is to help someone else to do their job. Again, I could break down my position and give you my official title and every single requirement but this is really another ‘bottom line’ element which everything else boils down to. There is not one thing that I do on any given day that is independent of my helping another person to achieve their professional (and many times personal) goals.

Which is totally fine…

…but that’s not what I want to do. And more importantly, I’m not gaining skills that could help me to get a better job.

WHAT DO I PLAN ON DOING?

Well, I’m glad you asked! You’re so considerate… we should really do coffee sometime.

I’m leaving this job so that I can pursue personal projects. My goal is to produce short films, feature films, web series, hell… maybe even a TV series. I want to do my own thing.

And that is where ish gets scary.

Because despite the fact that I followed my dreams up to this point, I’ve always done what I’d like to call “asking-for-permission-ass” jobs. (An asking-for-permission-ass job is pretty explanatory, I think. Just imagine a grownup version of the game “Mother May I.”) Anyway, I’ve spent 10 years ‘paying my dues’ and asking Mother if I could take a few bunny hops forward only to be told, “nah Peggy… but you can stay your ass where you at tho”. The shit is old. And I can’t imagine spending another year not having a job where I can work from home. Or take a client to lunch. Or fire someone.

So here I am.

HOW TO DO WHAT I’M DOING

First of all, I ain’t doing shit yet. I could fail miserably and come crawling back to my current job, begging for a chance to be in the building again.

Just as – you know –  a janitor.

I don’t need my old job back, Marie, I swear. I just need a job. Any job ya got!

**Picks up mop**

See, look at this. I’m mopping the floor. Ain’t too proud for this, Marie. I know it’s a carpet… just… come on! Work with me here.

So don’t copy offa me because I have no idea what I’m doing. Anywho, it really helps that my hubby is working again. Otherwise, my other go-to would be to live in my car. I think about living in my car quite a bit, actually, dunno why.

But my hubby is taking on the brunt of our bills because he knows that I got the goods and will probably be a pretty decent Producer. We’re going to rely on his paycheck and thank God he’s been able to find more freelance work recently because, I planned on quitting no matter what.

So I’m ready to give this entrepreneurial life a try because I’ve done everything else and can’t fathom spending another day wondering “what if?”

Prince

PR.jpg

Goodbye Sweet Prince. You have meant so much to me and to so many others. The world is forever changed because you have been in it. You will live on forever in our hearts, minds and speakers as we blast your inspired music in the weeks, months, years, centuries to come. We love you! Thank you for sharing yourself with us.

Prince is gone.

And after Michael, after Whitney… I didn’t know I could feel this kind of pain again.

I did not see this coming.

I am devastated.

I want to go home and crawl into bed and give up on this day.

I want to listen to Prince with my husband and I want everyone else to be quiet.

We all know that’s not gonna happen so . . .

The picture up top is one of the FIRST pictures I remember, not just of Prince, but in life. As a toddler I would stare at this picture (it was on my  mom’s Purple Rain cassette tape case) for hours because I couldn’t take my eyes off of this beautiful man, his purple outfit, all of the smoke and that cold-ass motorcycle.

And when you’re young and grow up with someone’s music and pictures everywhere, you begin to see that person as family.

I feel like I’ve lost an Uncle.

This is truly one of the saddest days of my life.

That’s all I got.