It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia International Airport

For those of you who haven't had the luxury of flying next to me on an airplane should count your blessings.  If you want the poster child of flying phobia, look no further than me.  I flew out of Westchester County Airport to start my journey of layovers.  Germany is really just a point to get to, not the wonderful journey it takes getting there.  I keep hoping with every bit of turbulence that I would just fall asleep so as not to feel the inevitable crash.  Optimistic, I know.  But give me a break, it was one of those circa 1970s shuttle aircrafts.  I think I've been in Coach Buses seating more than this plane.  There were those wonderful exposed propellers on both sides of the plane that every time we hit turbulence, I made sure both of the propellers were still spinning.  Add in the incredible noise factor, the slower climb...I hate it all.

Oh and the sun hits you when you hit Philly, but I think that's anywhere considering we landed close to sundown.  It's enough to make your retinas burn.  Lovely.

But the internal screaming as I thought about my plunge to my death made me think of the following.  So here's part of my will:

Movies: Mallory

Still Cameras: Mo

Video Camera: Johnny

Music and Theatre Stuff: Val

Misc. Electronics: Joe

If you were left out, don't feel bad.  You can run into the very tin

y money pile and grab.  There's not much so you smart ones will just pull the cars up to the house and run in and out grabbing stuff.

And upon hearing news that I may not spontaneously combust once I reach Germany, Noga wished me a good trip overseas.  And in loving return of promotion and affection, I need to address Noga's blog, The Steak Diaries.  Hopefully, I no longer have to worry about the posibility of Noga finding me and slitting my throat as I sleep for starting to write.  It was her fault I started writing this blog up anyway and I'm sure she knows it's true.  So SUCK IT, Noga.

So here's to the next hour or so, my "median" time, if you will as I wait for my flight that will take me on my next wonderful layover point: London, England where I will stay for another four hours or so.

Ah, a picture...let's see...how's this?

Countdown to Berlin

Holy shit do I have good friends.  It's been even more evident this past week or so as I prepare to get my ass to Berlin.  Despite the fact that it seemed more than obvious to those around me that I was spiraling into some state of insanity, delirium, something, I don't know what the world really should be.  Depressed is what it is.  Anxious, scared, confused, all that stupid bullshit that we hate to admit to ourselves.

So thank you to everybody who put up with my changing moods for the last week.  I've been taking the prescribed "watch a Disney movie" and got half way through "Beauty and the Beast" on my computer.  The prescription to join a fight club to help my insomnia is in the works.  Perhaps shooting three guns in Westchester County would do more to have cleared my head, but then again maybe it only made things worse...because I'd really like to fire off another round despite the bruise on my shoulder from the 12 gage shot gun nearly throwing me off my chair.  Good stuff, right?

But to those who were concerned or worried or listened, I've finally just come up with the theory.  I'm just plain lonely.  And I don't even mean that in an emo way.  We all saw the strange lengths of insanity in my previous posts that hint at the necessity a significant male other.  So what I do?  I've taken out my depressive, lonely feelings on everyone else.  It's affected my anxieties about travelling, about hanging out, everything really.  I've just found myself wallowing in unhealthy emotions.  Right now, I have to force myself to look ahead to something else.  To Berlin?  So goodbye everybody who listened to me, understood me, stood by me and hello strange new land of beautiful culture and guilt-stricken history.

Another big shout out to Insomnia.  It's after 2 in the morning and he's still around, but hopefully not for too long tonight.  He's getting a little hard to keep up with.

I've had this window open for over an hour now attempting to write something legit, attempting to finish a post here.  It's my last night in the US until towards the end of December.  But right now I'm finally calm, I think.  My mind is somewhat more settled than it has been the past few days, but the anxiety is still there.  I'm just not sure if it's all related to travel.

In Studio

I think the additional of this laptop to the editing studio was great.  I'm not the one at the editing table.  I just point and say, "How about this cut here?"  Psuedo-directing?  Well, when the real directors are gone and when the editor thinks my feedback over the real producer's feedback is good...then I'm useful.

So thank you Mr. Producer for bringing this laptop.  I'll write on my blog.  I'll Gchat.  I'll try and make myself a better person for today in the world of online communications.

I get this question a lot: What's your blog about?

(No, Val, you weren't the only one to ask.)

My blog at the moment is a rant more than anything, I think.  Maybe I'll start a blog just about my research or another just about the production I'm working on.  But this one is just to rant, to write, to share that small part of my brain that I otherwise hate burdening people with.  Is that still blog legit?

New flickr updates by the way including 35mm film!

I'm not using flickr links for the uploaded files, but here's the link to the photostream:

 http://www.flickr.com/photos/28030940@N08/

Here's a sampling of the new stuff:

A Conversation

Oh hi, Insomnia.  It's me, Jill.

Hi Jill.

Hey, I don't mean to be a pain and I know I have work to do but it's ten past 2 in the morning and I'm a little tired.

You should get some sleep.

Yeah, I would.  I mean I have to get up.  But I don't know.  Got a lot on my mind, I guess.

That sucks.  Sleep sounds great doesn't it?

Yeah, it totally does.  Look, Insomnia, I know you like hanging out and all, but I think this is a very unhealthy relationship.

But Jill, you'll just be leaving soon to another time zone.  This relationship should be fine until then.

I know, I know, but Insomnia, I really think we should stop seeing each other.  It's a little unhealthy.  For me at least.

I'm sorry I don't understand.  By the way did you finish those updates on your computer and those edits for tomorrow morning?

No.

Then I guess I'll just stick around a bit and keep you company.

Should I relax?

Ah and so the days to Deutschland are soon approaching.  I think I need a cigarette and a strong drink…or both.  Given the lack of smoking and my constant sobriety, take it as a sign of stress and panic.  Hopefully my visa is ready…if it exists at all.  Hopefully I won’t break another limb.  That’s a thought.  Bye-bye right arm.  As if I needed you anyway.

I’m working this last week.  Think about that.  “Working” is merely sitting in the editing room adding my two cents to the CPTV edit of “Voices in Conflict.”  I’ve got mixed feelings about it, I’m sad to say.  I think I’m numb to it now.  Not because I’ve been with the production since March 2007.  I think I still see things in it and now I’m seeing things I’m forcing myself to ignore.  The imperfections stand out to me, nag at me.  Maybe it’s a good thing I’m heading to Germany.  It’s a sad thought to the first thing broadcast piece I’ve worked on will be aired when I’m out of the country.

Maybe I just can’t stand the fact that I’m such a weakling.  Oh, here’s my bouncy little façade and for the past few weeks I’ve been doing nothing but bashing my head against the wall with frustration.  Should I double check everything for Germany?  Probably, but I won’t.  Should I be more on top of these edits outside of studio?  Sure, but I can’t get motivated.  I can’t stay up that late after what I’ve considered necessity visits to friends before I leave.  I haven’t packed, my room isn’t clean and I’m just plain unsettled about leaving.  I didn’t expect to be like this.  I still I’m excited though.  I hope so.  The strange and unfortunate thing nagging at me more than anything lately, I suppose has been admitting truth to myself.  I’m in a tunnel insecurity at the moment and I’m unmotivated, feeling unattractive, and just feeling plain lonely.  I fucking hate it.  Fuck you, personality, for making me believe I’m so strong and for convincing everyone else that.  Damn you!  I refuse the internet love sites and craigslist.  No thanks, I’m good.  Imagine it though.

Name: Jill

Age: 20

Body: Um..stout?

Hair: Brown

Ethnicity: Jewsian (oh and don’t give me this “Jew is not an ethnicity” thing.  It’s not a Nazi point of view.  There are just some features that look Jewish.)

Personality: Flawed

I don’t know.  Sad thought when the consideration passes your mind.  Honestly. 

So with imaginary drink in hand: a toast.  Here’s to finding sanity and continuing to bury my insecurities by saying, “No, really I’m fine without a special someone.  Look!  I’m happy, right?  Don’t I look happy the way I jump around?” and hoping that Germany will be ok.  Here’s to finishing the edit.  And here’s to finding distractions.

On the Road

So basically everything I said about keeping this updated has been a lie.  But I've been on the road.  Is that a good enough excuse?  I've got posts that I plan on posting here soon - they've been written on a Word document.  A little bit of a lie as far as blogging goes, but I'm trying.

So here I am at Cedar City, Utah.  Vegas was the first stop on the trip and we stayed in a gorgeous suite that was upgraded to us when our original rooms were taken up.  No loss there, right?  Anyway, we've hit up the National Park route and 

walked a bit of Zion.  A few personal bests there, but I'll write on that later.

Here's today.  We left Kanab, Utah.  On the way out of Kanab, we saw an archaeological dig uncovering a home of an approximately 1000 year old Native American home.  The diggers could only collect information and report back.  We were told that the entire site would eventually be covered up again in order to make room f

or the expansion in the road.  Pretty sad when you think about it...and the fact that there is absolutely no traffic on the rather wide road already.

It's a little pathetic how much I want to write, but really can't will myself to do so.  So how about something short sweet and to the point.  There's a picture of the dig.  Here's another one.

I think the real goal should be that I try and post at least one or two decent pictures a week.  Wouldn't that make for a better blog.  I don't know if these two count.  That's basically touristy crap, right?  I guess they all will be...at least Flickr allows me the excuse of pretending to be artsy so here are the latest Flickr updates:

5 to 3

Hellooooooo insomnia.

15+ hours of editing, logging, and software updating to look forward to later.

In case you were wondering, "summer vacation" no longer exists.  It's simply "summer" now.

Haiku? Retro

Retro thought - a few weeks ago...because of the procrastination.

I walked out of work.  There’s something about my mood that’s just exhausted.  The fluorescent lights on the seventh floor at work get to you after awhile.  The sky just feels strange when you step out into it.

It’s humid.  It’s the rain though.  I’m no further than a block away from work when I hear the muffled sounds of a car radio.  It’s loud too.  One would expect rap or heavy metal, but it’s not.  It’s sweeter.  I walk by.

There’s an older man in the car, waiting almost impatiently on the driver’s side and the notes are suddenly crystal clear.

“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens…”

Julie Andrews singing “My Favorite Things.”

I can’t help but let it brighten things up a bit.  The strange comedy of what is usually painfully loud music seems incredibly innocent when it’s Julie Andrews singing Rodgers and Hammerstein.

Friends and I have imagined this as a haiku.

Pavement Glistening

Music is pounding loudly

Raindrops on roses

Is that right? 5/7/5. Forget it.  I always sucked at poetry anyway.  Here’s the thought as I had intended anyway.

It’s raining out.  Miserable.  Music pounds loudly on the window of the car.  An old man sits impatiently in the driver’s seat.  Julie Andrews singing “My Favorite Things.”  I smile.  It’s a good day.

Starting the much procrastinated blog...

So after the several weeks of trying to find a name for my blog, this seems to be the one that suitably fits.  “An Attempt of Motivation.”  Yup, that’s it.  Will the blog be cluttered with spelling mistakes and grammatical errors?  You bet your ass it will.  Will I make the attempt to correct any of them?  If I ever go back and read any of them, I’ll consider it.

Regardless, “An Attempt of Motivation” seems oddly fitting to what I’m trying to do.  I haven’t written or even attempted to write in a long time.  I’ve procrastinated until I’ve been blue in the face.  I can blame my lack seemingly busy schedule with work and production, but when I get right down to it, I suppose there wasn’t a lot of production and work for the most part is slow.  But there really is no motivation to do a lot when I get right down to it.

Despite the rather pessimistic view of things, the summers for me at least are filled with nothing but disorganized stress.  Panic attacks have lingered in my system for nearly three months now and the source and reasons seem completely unbeknownst to me.  Perhaps it’s the near four hours spent commuting everyday that get to me.  I doubt it though.

Perhaps this is my real attempt of motivation.  There are quirks that I think that I have, stories that I think are worth telling and though I highly doubt many will real this blog, it’s at least a place to drop my anecdotes.  I’ll attempt to censor the names of friends and/or colleagues.  I wouldn’t want too much of this to bite me in the ass.  There may be stories I’m not proud of and so on, but in my mind there may some sort of audience.

For the few paragraphs I’ve already started, I’m sure the reader is already bored.

            “What the hell did I get myself into?” the reader asks.

Give me a chance.  Besides, I bet you’re not doing anything at your desk right now anyway.  Ignore that pop-up about the pink iPhone because it’s a scam.  No, there are no local singles in the area waiting to meet you.  Sorry.

I’m starting backwards in many ways.  Old stories, old thoughts.  Doesn’t really matter though, does it?