Fast Food Premiums

*UPDATE: Video fixed*

It's always interesting what you come across when backing up your computer. Some of those pesky files cluttering up your hard drive haven't been accessed in years and are just screaming for the attention they deserve, the attention that will inspire you to blog. Case in point:



*Keep in mind this was recorded at approximately 2 am while slightly intoxicated.

While the majority of you don't know the star of this video, a few of you do, which honestly makes the video just that much more amazing; however, lacking the pleasure of his acquaintance should make his words no less meaningful.

"McDonald's really needs to clean up their shit."

Prior to this occasion, and after my first grade birthday party with Ronald McDonald, I can't remember a single visit to McDonald's. I don't know whether it was that creepy "cat meat" scare that went around my small town in Ohio, or whether I just found that I enjoyed Wendy's and Burger King more, but whatever the reason my avoidance seems to be substantiated. Any more than ten minutes for a "sourdough bitch" is completely ridiculous.

"I pay a premium! I pay my $5.95 for my @#ck*ng sandwich!"

Does anyone else remember the days of the $.99 value menu? Or the Happy Meal that one could scrounge together nickels and pennies to pay for? I find it hard to believe that the quality of the freezer shipped meet and chemical injected lettuce and tomatoes has improved so much as to bring McDonald's prices up by the factor of inflation x 2.

All of these observations, of course, are not applicable before 11 am, at least on the west coast. The sausage, egg and cheese McMuffin?! The only acceptable substitute for the Dunkin' Donuts breakfast sandwich.

Note to all those in southern California with the cash to buy a franchise of any kind: Franchise a DUNKIN DONUTS and I'll say peace to McDonald's forever.

Chalk One Up For The Valley, Part Deux

In recent months, I've been visiting the smog-trapping, greenhouse-like environment that characterizes the frightening model for urban sprawl and suburbia that is The Valley a bit more often than I'd like to admit; However, due to these more frequent visits, I've discovered another reason that indicates the valley may not completely suck.

Consider the average gas station in your coastal Los Angeles borough with its rising gas prices, sometimes insane lines and... its annoying ass vapor-recovery nozzles.

These nozzles are tasked with curbing air pollution and saving the gas consumer from inhaling fumes. Super.

While I appreciate the concern for my fume inhalation, I hate to break it, but... It's a gas station. No efforts to mask it with perfume or candles, or trap it with a nozzle thingie can change the fact that I'm standing on top of huge tanks of gasoline that could explode with one stray spark and [spoiler] smell like gas.

"It can't hurt to try," you say? WRONG. These vapor-recovery nozzles rule out the possibility of a pump-handle-holder-thingie, quite possibly the only thing that could ever be enjoyable about the gas station experience.

Last night at about 3 am (long story) I stopped to pump some gas in The Valley and was pleasantly surprised to find my savior. When I'm too tired or lazy to even think about squeezing a gas pump handle, nothing hits the spot like the pump-handle-holder-thingie.

Also amazing? You don't have to fight against a vapor-recovery nozzle, constantly pushing against you as you push against it, automatically shutting the pump off when you provide inadequate pressure, and ultimately leaking gasoline all over the side of your car as you go to pull it out.

Boo to vapor-recovery nozzles, but props to the valley, once again, for resisting change and remaining content in their abundance of greenhouse gasses and not even attempting to control them.

I've Figured It Out...

For the past several days I've been visiting my own blog...repeatedly...rereading and revisiting events and annoyances from the past.

While I'd like to think I had some true purpose for doing this, I think I'll just acknowledge that I can't even make up a good reason. I'm bored at work.

However--it has been bothering me for quite some time that I've let blogging fall by the wayside. The complete sense of satisfaction that comes from the successful combination of a mildly humorous sentence or two to be consumed by everyone on the Internets is nothing short of amazing. The fact that my words could move thousands to laugh hysterically at my [choose one: pain, anquish, hell, annoyance, career woes] inflates my self esteem bubble to the point of bursting each time.

And then I remember that only like five people (all of whom I know personally) read my blog... and they've all stopped reading my blog because I haven't posted since just after I entered the gainfully-employed-yet-hopelessly-poor work force... and I'm not that funny.

After revisiting the past, I've now realized that my previous posts are the ramblings of a completely different person. The new me has had her life sucked out by work.

Either that, or I've become one of those positive, happy people that approaches life from the half full perspective abstaining from biting, bitter, and sarcastic commentary on life.

That, my friends, I refuse to accept.

Crack, a Bull Horn, and Kiefer Sutherland

All bitching about my "full-time gig" aside, when you break it down, it's really not that terrible--ignoring the close proximity to the poverty line, of course.

But in all seriousness, I'm privy to some pretty amazing information and learning quite a bit. For instance, today I learned that placing your livelihood in the hands of a crack addict probably isn't the greatest move. How did I learn this you ask? Lohan's next project, slated to begin production next week, has been pushed because...well...I think we all know why. My agents have the Director of Photography on the project. When movies push, the DP doesn't make any money until it actually goes, meanwhile they're committed to the project and have passed on others. Ouch.

I've also learned that when your boss text messages you something funny, for instance "I'm quitting," and you think it's funny enough to share with a couple people in the office--probably not the best idea. Although your reasoning was rooted purely in humor and sharing it with the rest of the world, your boss might regard it as insubordination, or "stealing the thunder." Then your boss might inform you that he's never telling you anything ever again because it's like "sharing information with a bull horn."

Another tidbit to add to the plethora of new information I've acquired, the life of an adult in Hollywood is akin to a pre-pubescent teen. There are many examples of said tidbit, but let's just stick to today's examples. I spent a large portion of my day trying to acquire a signed head shot of Kiefer Sutherland for a client. This client has no children, and has been quite vague about the need for this photo. While I'd like to think that I'm assisting my way to importance and my day is filled with uber-important supportive and administrative tasks, sadly, I would be mistaken. Instead I have to call the assistant to the agent of some really big TV star and explain why my client needs a photo that might very well end up hanging on the wall and fawned over--while giddily laughing and painting fingernails. After emails, awkward made-up rationale, hold time, and trading of phone calls, turns out the star is out of the country for another 2 months. Sweet--tell him I hope his 10 star hotel and yacht are treating him well.

So as you can see, information abounds in a day-in-the-life of a Hollywood (or Santa Monica, same diff) assistant. Watch out world...after my year here, there's no telling how smart I'll get.

Note to self: When part of you has a "weird aversion to landing a full time gig" with [insert company name here], listen to yourself. Please allow me to recount the events of my week...

Monday: Arrive at your temp assignment, the same assignment which you've already had for two weeks. Accept compliments from the agents you work for and think to yourself "working here wouldn't be all that bad." Remember that you were supposed to go down and meet with the head of HR to "discuss [your] future," which really just means "how much money will it take to keep you here?" Pleasantly, yet obviously, stick your nose up at the base assistant salary, then divulge how much it would take to get you to stay. Leave the HR office not really knowing what the fuck just happened, or what the events of the past twenty minutes mean for your future.

Tuesday: Receive an email from the head agent in your department saying "I had a nice discussion with the head of HR regarding you staying with us. She said that if we were to offer $X, you'd stay on with us here. Is this true? I think the company is prepared to make you this offer. Are you interested?" Respond to email with an affirmative response, yet again not knowing what that means for your future. Receive a phone call, seemingly minutes later, from your agent at the temp agency asking what the points of your discussion with HR were. Attempt to talk salary as every single assistant in your department surrounds you. At the end of the day, receive a phone call from HR asking you to come downstairs because there's "paperwork" for you to fill out. Go downstairs and realize that they've given you a job. Think about it for the five seconds it takes you to pick up a pen, and then sign the next year of your life away by way of a W-4.

Wednesday: Receive a phone call from Recruiting/HR managing the job you interviewed for (and really wanted) at a major studio/production company...let's just put it out there...Fox...asking you to come in for a second interview. Keep in mind, the second interview is basically a joke if you've bypassed HR at a large corporation and gone straight for the interview with the VP. The second interview in this situation simply means that the principal loved you, so now you have to go through the bullshit hiring process. Call your friend who's temping in the exact same position, who you thought wanted the job and would automatically get hired, and realize that she's changed her mind for monetary reasons. Leave your desk at the job you just accepted and go outside to smoke a cigarette.

Thursday: Call every important person in your life and bitch about your present situation.

Friday: Go out for drinks with one the agents in your new office. Have a great time, realize that your other friends who worked at agencies weren't in such a close-nit department and would NEVER get to drink with one of their bosses. Get a ride to your car in a C230 and realize that, despite the opportunity that arrived sans expedience, there is something to be said for job comfort and taking the opportunity at hand that will, quite likely, lead to an abundance of opportunity. Get in your car and return a phone call you received while at drinks from a friend who was going through the same interview hell as you. Hear that she just got a job for $X x 2. Arrive home, combine every liquor you have in the apartment in to one glass and repeat until there's no liquor left.

Once again, glitz and glam overtook the sleezy strip of Hollywood Blvd. that plays host to The Academy Awards, and once again, the stars delivered--Nicole Kidman's big ass "back bowtie" aside. For whatever reason I just can't seem to avoid getting all wrapped up in the spectacle, despite the post-viewing depression that consumes me when I realize -- I am a failure. Let's review the facts, shall we?

1. I used to have a job where part of my compensation was an apartment--as in free, no rent, no utilties, no cable, no bills period.
2. I quit said job.
3. I now share an apartment, for which there are many bills.
4. I am a temp.
5. I have not been, nor am I on a track to be, at the Oscars.
6. Did I mention I have no job?

I moved to Los Angeles (no, not to become famous) to become a line producer for features or television. Right now I'm temping at an agency. They love me, and have made me an offer to stay, yet why does part of me have some weird aversion to landing a full time gig here? Oh that's right, because I won't be line producing.

I interviewed at Fox as well--I thought things went really well, but the VP hasn't made an official decision yet. Please buddy, take all the time you need. My livelihood isn't really that important.

I know that there are many paths to each person's ultimate goal, but could someone just push me in one direction please?