Saturday, March 11, 2006
Lesson # 1: Nice things happen occasionally.
So I was sitting with Mum, Dad and Mark trying to suppress my nausea as we watched Parky making his weekly effort to kill someone with sheer sycophancy (this week it was Blair and Spacey- an odd sight watching Bush's butt monkey sharing anecdotes with a man who left the country because bush was in charge) when Olivia arrives home with a DVD. No case or anything, just a disc. 'Have you seen this?' she says- it was Serenity, one of my top three films of last year and only released on DVD the day before. She found it just lying on the street in Aughanacloy just as she was coming out of work. After a few cartwheels we sat down to watch it and yup, it's every bit as good as I remember. The disc worked perfectly and it was the full version, not the vanilla rental copy I was expecting. It was as if it had just fallen out of the sky just to cheer me up or something.
Lesson # 2: Repression is under-rated.
Despite what I've just described, I still managed to get back to Dublin feeling miserable for reasons which I'll not go into here, but on monday morning I made a pact with myself. It was the beginning of an important week. I had a couple of interviews to do and there was no way anyone was gonna employ some sadsack crusty with zero sense of self worth, so I told myself I was just going to have to block out everything that was getting me down by whatever means necessary and deal with it another time.
And guess what? It worked!
One of the interviews was for a Public Affairs newsletter that Sarah writes for, they were looking for someone to work two days a week writing articles for them. As you are all well aware, I know exactly dick about public affairs, I figured it's journalism, and thus worth a shot. So I spent most of the week trying to cram a couple of decades worth of political minutiae into my addled brain.
Lesson # 3: Sometimes it pays to be a jerk.
The other job, and the one I was creaming my jeans over was for a production company who were looking for a props runner. Ultan had put me onto it cos he works there, but as they wanted someone with a few films under their belt already, I didn't rate my chances that high. still, submitted a CV and managed to bag myself an invite to come down and chat with the props manager. Then disaster struck. I had been asked to call Nuala (cos thats her name) in the evening at 7.30 to arrange a time to meet, which I did, on the dot, and the phone just went dead. No answer phone, no engaged tone- she just blatantly hung up. So there I was thinking I'd somehow blown the best chance I have had at getting work in my industry of choice, and feeling very unsure whether to continue harrassing her. The following morning I decided to send her a text saying 'Um.. called last night, must have been a bad time. If you still want to talk call me anytime on this number, if not, best of luck with the project'. Which of course I regretted almost instantly, as it left me waiting on her to call me. She still hadn't called the next day, and so by lunch time I'd pretty much decided that I had nothing left to lose (except some more pride) by calling her again. 'Oh, Aidan we'd love to see you' was the song this time. She made no explaination for the hanging up, and I didn't ask, I just got a time a place and a name and left it at that.
Lesson # 4: Sometimes it pays not to be a jerk.
So I went out to the studio after work and had a lovely informal chat with Nuala about this and that- nothing like a real interview, more like a lengthy session of bitching about the state of the film industry. I made a concerted effort to be charm personified, and made a special effort with the hair and everything. Bonded with her dog, Zero (like the one from Nightmare before christmas- a reference she was pleased I picked up on) a gorgeous big border collie that follows her around on set everywhere. By the end of it she seemed satisfied and said 'right, I'll get a contract together and call you next week'. So thats that- in the bag. It's a big period film based on the early life of Jane Austen, and once we start filming at the end of the month I will be touring about some picturesque old mansions around the south coast with a real live film crew, shunting props back and forth, decorating sets, making pot noodles and performing analingus on the director and calling it work. Bonus!
I had the interview for the PA job the following day, and while not as spectacularly successful as the previous one, it at least wasn't as embarassingly bad as I had pictured it in my mind. I think I just overpowered the poor man with the force of enthusiasm, cos at the start of the interview he was slumped back, casting an uninspired eye over my cv- the picture of bored disinterest, and by the end he was chatting away about all sorts. In the end, he asked me to submit a couple of pieces of work so he could see how I wrote. I'm gonna do this anyway, even though I won't be able to take the job, cos I don't want to go burning any bridges now that I've got some.
Lesson # 5: It's not what you know, it's who you know.
Like duh!
Just thought I'd mention this in case anyone didn't already know. My employment/interview history in dublin runs as follows:
ADEO- (Thanks to Ronan)
UCD- (Thanks to Lizanne)
Prop runner- (Thanks to Ultan)
PAI- (Thanks to Sarah)
While my own efforts through the traditional channels has garnered me nothing but sore feet and a thirst for the blood of editors and pub landlords alike.
Lesson # 6: The human body needs sleep.
And mine does now, more than usual- been a party hardy marty this weekend thus far and need to crash as I can barely keep my eyes open. Plus, this is a very boring post, just thought I'd get the news out there now, wax lyrical about it later.
Stavros "Water hurts my brain" Potato
So I was sitting with Mum, Dad and Mark trying to suppress my nausea as we watched Parky making his weekly effort to kill someone with sheer sycophancy (this week it was Blair and Spacey- an odd sight watching Bush's butt monkey sharing anecdotes with a man who left the country because bush was in charge) when Olivia arrives home with a DVD. No case or anything, just a disc. 'Have you seen this?' she says- it was Serenity, one of my top three films of last year and only released on DVD the day before. She found it just lying on the street in Aughanacloy just as she was coming out of work. After a few cartwheels we sat down to watch it and yup, it's every bit as good as I remember. The disc worked perfectly and it was the full version, not the vanilla rental copy I was expecting. It was as if it had just fallen out of the sky just to cheer me up or something.
Lesson # 2: Repression is under-rated.
Despite what I've just described, I still managed to get back to Dublin feeling miserable for reasons which I'll not go into here, but on monday morning I made a pact with myself. It was the beginning of an important week. I had a couple of interviews to do and there was no way anyone was gonna employ some sadsack crusty with zero sense of self worth, so I told myself I was just going to have to block out everything that was getting me down by whatever means necessary and deal with it another time.
And guess what? It worked!
One of the interviews was for a Public Affairs newsletter that Sarah writes for, they were looking for someone to work two days a week writing articles for them. As you are all well aware, I know exactly dick about public affairs, I figured it's journalism, and thus worth a shot. So I spent most of the week trying to cram a couple of decades worth of political minutiae into my addled brain.
Lesson # 3: Sometimes it pays to be a jerk.
The other job, and the one I was creaming my jeans over was for a production company who were looking for a props runner. Ultan had put me onto it cos he works there, but as they wanted someone with a few films under their belt already, I didn't rate my chances that high. still, submitted a CV and managed to bag myself an invite to come down and chat with the props manager. Then disaster struck. I had been asked to call Nuala (cos thats her name) in the evening at 7.30 to arrange a time to meet, which I did, on the dot, and the phone just went dead. No answer phone, no engaged tone- she just blatantly hung up. So there I was thinking I'd somehow blown the best chance I have had at getting work in my industry of choice, and feeling very unsure whether to continue harrassing her. The following morning I decided to send her a text saying 'Um.. called last night, must have been a bad time. If you still want to talk call me anytime on this number, if not, best of luck with the project'. Which of course I regretted almost instantly, as it left me waiting on her to call me. She still hadn't called the next day, and so by lunch time I'd pretty much decided that I had nothing left to lose (except some more pride) by calling her again. 'Oh, Aidan we'd love to see you' was the song this time. She made no explaination for the hanging up, and I didn't ask, I just got a time a place and a name and left it at that.
Lesson # 4: Sometimes it pays not to be a jerk.
So I went out to the studio after work and had a lovely informal chat with Nuala about this and that- nothing like a real interview, more like a lengthy session of bitching about the state of the film industry. I made a concerted effort to be charm personified, and made a special effort with the hair and everything. Bonded with her dog, Zero (like the one from Nightmare before christmas- a reference she was pleased I picked up on) a gorgeous big border collie that follows her around on set everywhere. By the end of it she seemed satisfied and said 'right, I'll get a contract together and call you next week'. So thats that- in the bag. It's a big period film based on the early life of Jane Austen, and once we start filming at the end of the month I will be touring about some picturesque old mansions around the south coast with a real live film crew, shunting props back and forth, decorating sets, making pot noodles and performing analingus on the director and calling it work. Bonus!
I had the interview for the PA job the following day, and while not as spectacularly successful as the previous one, it at least wasn't as embarassingly bad as I had pictured it in my mind. I think I just overpowered the poor man with the force of enthusiasm, cos at the start of the interview he was slumped back, casting an uninspired eye over my cv- the picture of bored disinterest, and by the end he was chatting away about all sorts. In the end, he asked me to submit a couple of pieces of work so he could see how I wrote. I'm gonna do this anyway, even though I won't be able to take the job, cos I don't want to go burning any bridges now that I've got some.
Lesson # 5: It's not what you know, it's who you know.
Like duh!
Just thought I'd mention this in case anyone didn't already know. My employment/interview history in dublin runs as follows:
ADEO- (Thanks to Ronan)
UCD- (Thanks to Lizanne)
Prop runner- (Thanks to Ultan)
PAI- (Thanks to Sarah)
While my own efforts through the traditional channels has garnered me nothing but sore feet and a thirst for the blood of editors and pub landlords alike.
Lesson # 6: The human body needs sleep.
And mine does now, more than usual- been a party hardy marty this weekend thus far and need to crash as I can barely keep my eyes open. Plus, this is a very boring post, just thought I'd get the news out there now, wax lyrical about it later.
Stavros "Water hurts my brain" Potato
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