--BACK TO THE BEAST--

Chapter Three: Intern Bible

He was a two-headed monster. A hairy beast with eyes dark as dark comes. I shudder to think about the number of souls he'd devoured before me. I was only one of those innocents. I entered his domain with my head in the clouds and my heart in his hands. I hadn't yet figured out that he held the key to my happiness.
However, he shortly informed me, if I was to do good at my job he'd refer me to the contacts he knew, that is, once the twelve-week internship was up.

...and there were the chains. Not so subtle, blatantly obvious, in fact.

I was to do whatever he asked of me for the next twelve weeks or I'd leave this internship with broken dreams. As far as I was concerned he was top of the Hollywood pyramid. If one word got out about me I'd be known in this business. I just had to make sure the word was good.

 I began the first week taking orders from a very thick manual typed out by previous interns. The manual listed out all job tasks describing how to approach by day, by hour, and of course, by scenario.

This document was cleverly labeled, "Intern Bible".

I like to think that reading it, digesting every word and reverting back to it in times of trouble truly saved my life. I'm not quite sure if its' original author enjoyed dark humor or was just scared shitless of messing up. Nonetheless, the Bible served a purpose.

The script actually had many authors. You see, as one intern moved out another moved in, following the sacred scroll ever so carefully until a new scenario would arise, not given to the previous intern. And therefore, unknowing of proper procedure, the poor soldier whose mysterious task sat undocumented, would approach his battle head-on.

But he never stood a chance, for the beast showed no mercy.

 In turn, the broken soldier would update the Bible and publish, relinquishing his duties for the next in line. And so the routine continued. The more passing, the more updating, the thicker the Bible became. By the time it was passed to me, I was outweighed. 

Sure, when I saw the manuscript I wanted to bolt, but another part of me was convinced it was just a twisted joke. It wasn't.

Chronicles of an intern - Part II

Chapter Two: BEACH BUM

Aliso Viejo, where the views are breathtaking and the ocean extends just a few miles up the road. I ran there often for both torture and leisure. It was a two for one deal; I get my exercise out of the way early, then get to enjoy the elements of Laguna Beach.

As you've probably witnessed, there are certain beaches where the water faintly loses color and becomes a dull, murky substance. Certain beaches where washed-up seaweed may just as well be an invitation for gnats and other unwelcome pests. Certain beaches where the tides are so strong they leave millions of shells spanning the beach surface, leaving visitors angry and injured.

Laguna is not that kind of beach. Its' ocean is always a deep blue and the palm trees, a pigmented green. Oooh, the sand, I could write endless poems solely about the sand. Its' texture is silky and its' color, a milky beige; almost frappuccino-like. Though, never cold. No. You see, the sun sits at the perfect distance, heating the sand to a suitable temperature for barefoot walks along the coast.

In fact, it's rumored that Laguna is situated in the goldy lock zone of beaches. The water, the sand, the climate, everything... not too hot, not too cold, but just right to sustain long visits and maintain regular traffic. Sure, I may have started that rumor myself but I'm not wrong.

Did I mention the dolphins? You'll see them in pairs leaping out of the water at sunrise and sunset each day, like clockwork. I have mixed feelings about it all. To be honest, it's enchanting yet kind-of twilight-zone(y).

As you can imagine, I spent most of my days laying on that poetic sand, daydreaming, reading, writing, and more often than not, people watching.

At nightfall, I was always reluctant to leave my Paradise, but there was always tomorrow. And, in light my adieus, I was genuinely happy to make my way home to my two loving aunts who housed, parented and fed me daily.

My father's youngest sister, Peggy, had a stable M-F 9-5 job working as an ESL Teacher at MT. SAC; a junior college nearby. Her wife, Young, who struggles with Muscular Dystrophy (for as long as I can remember) didn't work at the time. Instead, she gained her strength through sleep and lots of it. Lincoln and I were their only children. We got along most of the time, except for when his pouting became an exaggeration for attention. For fear of losing I never fought with him over it. Instead, I made sure to be on my best behavior. A single fight with Lincoln could kick me to the beach-side curb. And as lovely as that sounded, I wasn't ready to be homeless. But honestly, Lincoln and I didn't have many tiffs. No, we were just a couple of siblings familiar with one another's boundaries. In short, he really was the best multi-poo brother a girl could ask for.

I'd be lying if I said my aunts loved us equally. Nonetheless, they spoiled us both rotten. While Aunt Young made sure I was getting my micros and macros through nutritious foods, Aunt Peggy made sure I was enjoying the kind of food that will probably one day be my doom. They had mom and dad written all over them. It was like I never even left home.

All side-tracking aside, this is really where the story begins.

Chronicles of an Intern - Part I

Chapter One: Traveling to Oz

Once upon a time... (yes, it begins as a fairy-tale)
I was a young girl intrigued by fantasy and surrealism. My interest lied in film writing and it's adaptation to the screen. At 20 years of age, I decided I wasn't going to live my whole life dreaming about Oz, I had to put my words into action in order for things to become reality. It was time I hit the yellow brick road to find my destiny... So, I packed my car full of belongings and left Kansas in the rear view. With stars in my eyes and the Hollywood sign in mind, I made my way to Los Angeles. Filled with opportunity, I knew this city would lead me into the film business one way or another.

It took numerous applications and various interviews before landing my first internship. As it turns out, it's pretty easy to find an unpaid internship in a big city. Free labor... easy to find, hard to land. You see, EVERYONE in LA is chasing the same thing (movies/TV). So you can imagine, when I got this break I was ecstatic.

And so began my training as a "developmental intern". The title sounded so official. How could I not be thrilled? I trusted having this internship under my belt would open doors for me.

It would pay off, figuratively, of course.

Job Description: Work for a renowned producer! Read scripts, discuss budget, audience, plot, character, dialog...yada yada.

 It all sounded so perfect.

It wasn't until a week later that I realized I had signed my life to Satan.

He had me working 9-5 four days a week. Did I mention this was unpaid? 

And, when I say 9-5,  I really mean 6-8. The drive to work should be taken into consideration here. I was living in AlisoViejo at the time traveling north on the 105 to get to Belaire. And of course, SoCal traffic is a bitch.

The drive without traffic: 45 mins
The drive with traffic: 3 hours (I kid you not)

Most Days I'd try my luck in the carpool lane to shave off a half hour or so, that way I could enjoy the trades and a coffee on Rhodeo before having my confidence ripped to shreds by an egotistic asshole.

When I look back on the situation I think, "damn, I had it made". I mean, what's so bad about being an intern in Beverly Hills? It's the job and setting most film grads would kill for. I worked out of a Mansion in Belaire for Christ sake!

But, this wasn't just an internship, this was a learning process, as well as a reality check (yep, not in Kansas anymore). I like to think The Devil Wears Prada was loosely based off of my own horror story. Except instead of the overbearing fashionista, I was working for the overbearing award-winning film "master". And master he was, as I was undoubtedly his slave.

To be continued...

Princess Claire

Thanks to some amazing creatives I got the chance to star in a 2018 Golden Globe Award-winning film. Okay, you probably won't see me guest-star on a talk show anytime soon, but photoshop doesn't lie. ;)

Wierd is in the air

It's exciting when you find someone who isn't afraid to be odd with you. 

Let them stare. We've got each other.