I've been planning to write this entry on this night for a long time. Of course I had no idea what kind of day this would turn out to be.
First the good news. I'm keeping my word; I'm finally going to finish what I started. Dreamworks gave me a phone interview a few weeks ago and it went really well. In fact, it was the most enjoyable interview I've had so far. And yet they decided to offer the two remaining positions to the first two candidates. But the recruiter told me not to worry. "Oh, you're so in it's not even funny," she said. The verdict was that if one of the guys they offered it to turned it down, I was in now. If not, then I was in for the next round. Either way, I was in.
Turns out, one of their candidates "didn't work out." I'm in now. I'M MOVING TO CALIFORNIA. I officially start at Dreamworks as a lighting TA (technical assistant) on August 24.
I've deliberately kept this quiet for a couple of reasons. One was that I didn't want to divulge too much during the interview process, more for professional reasons than superstitious ones. The other, and most important reason, was that there are certain people in my life who deserve to hear this news from me personally, not by reading it on a blog. I wanted to make sure everyone found out the way they deserved to find out before I made it public. Today I had lunch with my friends at BWC who helped me get here by printing multiple rounds of resumes and demo reel labels. I felt I owed it to them to at least tell them in person and maybe buy some food for the poor guy who got stuck doing all the printing. And only then, I decided, would I feel comfortable putting it in the blog.
There is still a group of friends who don't know. If any of my A-Phi sisters are reading this, please keep this under your hat -- the big announcement is scheduled for camp and Heather and I have a plan. You know who you are. Pretend you didn't read this :-)
Once I got over the initial panic of extreme stress and change, I was elated. It felt right for the first time since this process started almost exactly a year ago (in fact, my offer came on Wednesday, June 17, and my last day at BWC was Wednesday, June 18 of last year). I got up this morning knowing that as soon as I told my friends at BWC, I could write the blog entry and finally put it out there. And then I read the news that Farrah Fawcett had died.
Not a surprise of course, and to be honest it wasn't something that affected me all that much. I was pretty young when Charlie's Angels was at its peak; in fact, too young to be interested. But everyone knew who Farrah was, including me. In fact, when I was in the third grade we did a play about dental hygiene, and I was assigned the part of Fred Fluoride. I didn't want to be called Fred for obvious reasons so my teacher told me that if I could come up with a girl's name that started with F, I could use that instead. I thought and I thought. For some reason, names like Felicia and Fran never came to mind. I was blank. And then suddenly it hit me: Farrah Fluoride. A star was born.
My friends and I were discussing her death in the car on the way to lunch. After Ed McMahon's death earlier in the week, and given the rule of threes, it stood to reason that Walter Cronkite would be next. Reports had recently surfaced that he was "gravely ill." It made sense.
As it turns out, we were having that conversation at almost the exact moment when Michael Jackson collapsed from cardiac arrest.
It's truly amazing that I got as much work done today as I did. I haven't watched so much media coverage since 9/11. It seems unfair that Farrah's death was almost immediately overshadowed, and then seemingly ignored for lack of shock value compared to the death of Michael Jackson. I certainly never saw it coming. And at the same time, it was entirely fitting that it took over the airwaves. My parents' generation, the Baby Boomers, had Elvis and John Lennon. My generation, Generation X, had Michael Jackson. His career was at its peak when we were just discovering music for the first time. Anyone who didn't have MTV before Thriller certainly had it afterward. There was never a time in our lives when Michael Jackson wasn't famous. And his death really upsets me. I don't particularly mourn the man he had become in the last ten years or so, but I mourn the man he was when he was at his best. I mourn the loss of the possibility, no matter how slight, that he could regain that kind of popularity and respect, create something brilliant and go out on top. He didn't, and there are no more chances. And no princes awaiting his throne. The pop music monarchy has been replaced by mediocrity, its innovation suffocated by the indifference of mass production. No one will ever touch him; no one will ever forget him.
Life goes on. In a few days the shock will wear off and the excitement will return, and I'll be at the beginning of my own brand new life. Unless of course Walter Cronkite dies.
First the good news. I'm keeping my word; I'm finally going to finish what I started. Dreamworks gave me a phone interview a few weeks ago and it went really well. In fact, it was the most enjoyable interview I've had so far. And yet they decided to offer the two remaining positions to the first two candidates. But the recruiter told me not to worry. "Oh, you're so in it's not even funny," she said. The verdict was that if one of the guys they offered it to turned it down, I was in now. If not, then I was in for the next round. Either way, I was in.
Turns out, one of their candidates "didn't work out." I'm in now. I'M MOVING TO CALIFORNIA. I officially start at Dreamworks as a lighting TA (technical assistant) on August 24.
I've deliberately kept this quiet for a couple of reasons. One was that I didn't want to divulge too much during the interview process, more for professional reasons than superstitious ones. The other, and most important reason, was that there are certain people in my life who deserve to hear this news from me personally, not by reading it on a blog. I wanted to make sure everyone found out the way they deserved to find out before I made it public. Today I had lunch with my friends at BWC who helped me get here by printing multiple rounds of resumes and demo reel labels. I felt I owed it to them to at least tell them in person and maybe buy some food for the poor guy who got stuck doing all the printing. And only then, I decided, would I feel comfortable putting it in the blog.
There is still a group of friends who don't know. If any of my A-Phi sisters are reading this, please keep this under your hat -- the big announcement is scheduled for camp and Heather and I have a plan. You know who you are. Pretend you didn't read this :-)
Once I got over the initial panic of extreme stress and change, I was elated. It felt right for the first time since this process started almost exactly a year ago (in fact, my offer came on Wednesday, June 17, and my last day at BWC was Wednesday, June 18 of last year). I got up this morning knowing that as soon as I told my friends at BWC, I could write the blog entry and finally put it out there. And then I read the news that Farrah Fawcett had died.
Not a surprise of course, and to be honest it wasn't something that affected me all that much. I was pretty young when Charlie's Angels was at its peak; in fact, too young to be interested. But everyone knew who Farrah was, including me. In fact, when I was in the third grade we did a play about dental hygiene, and I was assigned the part of Fred Fluoride. I didn't want to be called Fred for obvious reasons so my teacher told me that if I could come up with a girl's name that started with F, I could use that instead. I thought and I thought. For some reason, names like Felicia and Fran never came to mind. I was blank. And then suddenly it hit me: Farrah Fluoride. A star was born.
My friends and I were discussing her death in the car on the way to lunch. After Ed McMahon's death earlier in the week, and given the rule of threes, it stood to reason that Walter Cronkite would be next. Reports had recently surfaced that he was "gravely ill." It made sense.
As it turns out, we were having that conversation at almost the exact moment when Michael Jackson collapsed from cardiac arrest.
It's truly amazing that I got as much work done today as I did. I haven't watched so much media coverage since 9/11. It seems unfair that Farrah's death was almost immediately overshadowed, and then seemingly ignored for lack of shock value compared to the death of Michael Jackson. I certainly never saw it coming. And at the same time, it was entirely fitting that it took over the airwaves. My parents' generation, the Baby Boomers, had Elvis and John Lennon. My generation, Generation X, had Michael Jackson. His career was at its peak when we were just discovering music for the first time. Anyone who didn't have MTV before Thriller certainly had it afterward. There was never a time in our lives when Michael Jackson wasn't famous. And his death really upsets me. I don't particularly mourn the man he had become in the last ten years or so, but I mourn the man he was when he was at his best. I mourn the loss of the possibility, no matter how slight, that he could regain that kind of popularity and respect, create something brilliant and go out on top. He didn't, and there are no more chances. And no princes awaiting his throne. The pop music monarchy has been replaced by mediocrity, its innovation suffocated by the indifference of mass production. No one will ever touch him; no one will ever forget him.
Life goes on. In a few days the shock will wear off and the excitement will return, and I'll be at the beginning of my own brand new life. Unless of course Walter Cronkite dies.
