Hollywood Holiday

12/19/06
Well, just like over the summer, I'm risking getting fired by keeping an on-going log of the goings on of my first job over at Green Hills Regal 16.

And I'll say this right now, a lot of things have changed.

The dirt is that the employee/manager relations is pretty much at a level of perpetual distrust thanks to the lack of a work ethic. Since I left, the inventory losses have been continuing to the point where the General Manager told me straight away that eleven people were fired in just the last three weeks. The charges range from calling in too many sick days in a row, stealing food from the concession stand, and generally being a bad employee. Nobody from the summer that I worked with was there. Most of them were fired or quit.

And as much as I hate to do this, my guess from the information I gathered was that all the black people were fired and all the white people quit out of personal conflict with management. At least that's what it sounds like from the people I talked to who I did recognize over the summer.

At one point, they were so short with employees they were ready to hire just about anyone. Around Thanksgiving, the theatre would gain only one new employee for every three people they loss. My return to the employee roster, as well as the hand full of others that decided to come back, is a blessing to the management. Not only do most of us have a work ethic, but we are also in good standing with the managing team.

Benefits also got compromised. Any transaction now with the theatre has to be done with a manager present. Employees working concessions no longer have access to any of the drawers for bags or cups. I found out the hard way that we are also locked out of the freezers, which makes refreshing hot dogs near impossible! Nothing can be done now without a member of management giving some kind of approval.

Speaking of which, one of my summer buddies got promoted to a manager position! This should make going to work with him rather awkward if nothing else. But, hey, at least there's someone on the management team that I can say I don't have to learn a new name to associate with a new face.

I can't say the same about the new group of kids they have running around. It seems the more things change, the more things stay the same. New faces replace the old roles. We still have the loud kids that think being "ghetto" is cool, we still have the usual employee spat over stupid things, and we still have people that don't act very professional around the register. Makes me kind of wonder if firing all those people simply because they were bad employees is really going to do any good in the end. We still have the same general pool of employees as far as how everyone acts.

Should be interesting seeing how not only am I working Christmas Eve, but the day after Christmas as well. The second of the two I'm told is hell on Earth.

12/21/06
It seems that the employee pool that I was introduced to is indeed different than before, almost to the point where people in general suck.

I found out when I talked to my new manager that the new employee roster doesn't like being told what to do by co-workers who are doing their jobs even though those that are doing their jobs were told by managers to correct people that were not doing their job. How long you've been at it doesn't matter. You tell someone to do something correctly, and they will fight back.

Case and point? I was called a snitch by another co-worker when I asked someone why they turned down the temperature on the hot dog roller. They told me that they were told to turn it down so the hot dogs won't over cook. I told them that a manager told me earlier that the temperature should never be lowered. I tried to get it confirmed by the manager working the concession stand helping us stock. Remember, they have gotten very strict about stock, so during rushes, there is always a manager helping out (especially on weekends). The manager working with us said not to turn it down. The employee who turned it down threw her hands up and said that if the dogs over cook, it's the manager's fault and not hers.

And yet, I was called the snitch because I was doing my job and not touching the dial as I was trained.

I can't blame why several of the kids that went to college like myself are not coming back in the summer. At this point, I would join them as well. However, at this point, I still can't drive and nobody in my family has "time" to help me get a Learner's Permit.

12/22/06 - Communication Failure
Today, we were pretty much screwed.

The usual opening day/night crowds came, but their volume was as if it was summer all over again. You would think that for a three o'clock matinee, most of the people in the mall would be shopping. Not the case today. Nearly every last matinee show was full, and since the evening times fell way to close to each other, this meant that clean up had to be done fast. My manager told me it will be like that all weekend long... and then some!

But that wasn't the worse part.

The reel we got of We Are Marshell went missing this morning. Our first show was cancelled as a result. The reel was found in time for the second showing. However, as it ended, the film ended up getting burned through by the light bulb. You'd be surprised how common this accident really is. After that, the film cut yet again an hour into the third show. And then again an hour before the ending. This resulted in the show letting out half an hour later than scheduled, resulting in a line in the lobby and the distribution of free passes for the entire theatre that show.

And if you think that was bad...

Over the course of the day, I had five people of various levels of anger come up to me complaining about how the newspaper said showtime for whatever movie but their ticket said another showtime. I had to double and triple check times as well as assure them that this kind of miscommunication between the theatre and newspapers is common. Which it is.

One upset senior tried to theatre hop as he waited for his show to start, as the time in the paper was an hour earlier than what was printed on his ticket. Needless to say, he got more upset when I told him he couldn't watch another movie he didn't pay for even if he was waiting for his to start. So, in a fit of rage, he left to get a refund.

The last patron that this happened to during my shift apparently was a first-time visitor to the Green Hills location, so I escorted her to the (new) Customer Service desk... only to find four other women there with the same problem. All five women wanted to see a movie that was advertised to start at a time an hour later than when we had scheduled to start.

For those of you that don't know, Opening Weekend times don't change until Monday. This applies to both theatre schedules and what is advertised in newspapers and online. That being said, this weekend's ushers (which includes me for yet another shift) are going to be run ragged.

12/26/06
Supposedly the most hellish time of year for those that work in the mall for minimum wage, I was able to get out of work thanks to a winter flu that strangely enough attacked everyone in the house! And I mean everyone!

And despite the military managing styles of my General Manager, I was able to score at least a sympathetic "Get well soon" from an Assistant Manager.

As of this typing, I'm still sick. I may be able to work tomorrow morning. However, I'll be seeing if I can get out of serving popcorn, seeing how I'm still fresh with the winter bug. Last thing I want is to be the cause of an outbreak just before National Hang Over Day.

12/27/06
I was well enough to work, but not well enough to work concession. Luckily, I was able to get out of it thanks to the managers switching around people. However, we were kind of short on staff for the madness that happened this morning. From what I was told, the same thing happened yesterday with four people calling out. However, I was the only one that had an honest and believable excuse.

In the end, I was able to get everything done by the time my shift ran up, which is an achievement given the fact that I fell behind cleaning so bad that a manager had to help me out. Tomorrow is my second day off for the season I'm working. Hopefully, I will be back to my old self by tomorrow night.

12/29/06
Got the first of my two pay checks this season today. Made just over a hundred bucks, but unfortunately, all that money is going to cover up an impulse purchase I made online after Christmas.

But that's not the big news of the day.

In the middle of an afternoon rush, a co-worker called me "Chong." I'm not even from the region where such a slur would come from, but I do not like being generalized simply because I am from the Asia region by blood. It is one of my personal pet peeves to assume that I'm one race when I'm clearly from another. I don't mind people guessing (i. e. "Are you Cambodian? Japanese?") and I love it when people actually ask me what my background is. But to just flat out assume pisses me off to no end.

I considered his action as racist and reported it. I even told him earlier when he asked if he could call me "Chong" what I would do. Apparently, he's an idiot and couldn't figure out why that is a bad thing. But then again, I was the one that assumed he knew.

In any event, I told my managers and they were gathering written statements from other employees who were working around the time it happened. Keep in mind that this was also done in front of a lobby full of customers too. Chances are one of them heard it, but which is pretty much impossible to determine. After all, they came to see a movie, and that's the only thing that was on their mind at the time.

Unfortunately, the person who called me "Chong" left before the managers could get a statement from him. Chances are he knew and wanted to save his hide from his parents.

12/31/06
My last day at work before my clean up and school preparation week, and what happens? I'm labelled "The Snitch" because of the fact I got someone fired. I explained to everyone that asked about the situation what happened and why I had to report it. I think (or rather hoped) they were able to relate because nearly everyone is a minority race in the employee roster. Still, I can't help but feel like I'm not the most hated employee at the moment. Granted I won't be back until May, specifically the week Spider-Man 3 comes out, but still.

Then again, who knows if that current pool of employees will still be around.

So my last week of work in the summer, I started a fire. It seems that I can't end a seasonal shift without something strange happening to me. Yes, something strange did happen to me that can top being called "The Snitch."

During my last hour of work, a couple comes up to me wanting to find a pair of seats together for their movie. I went ahead and helped them out to the best of my ability. I found a row with two seats available, but they were separated. The only way the two would be able to sit together is if I asked two groups of people, one a group of two and the other a group of four, to move down several seats. I couldn't talk to the group of four, however, without talking to the group of two first.

Well, the lady I talked to was really snappy. When I asked if she could move down a few seats and if she could tell the party in the middle of the row to move down as well, she fired back saying that "In my time, people were on time for the movies." She repeated this despite me telling her that she did not have to separate. She simply had to move down a few seats and ask the middle party to do the same. She grew hostile, and I gave in.

Leaving the woman who wouldn't make room for two people who didn't want to sit so close to the screen, I escorted the couple out of the theatre and apologized for not being able to help them. They left to get a refund, as they didn't want to watch the later showing of the same movie.

I asked my manager if what I did was the right thing to do. He assured me that it was, but I couldn't help feeling like kindness to others is dead. All she could have done is just move down a few seats and be accommodating to others. If she was late, she would want the same, would she not? Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think she would be late to a movie. I hope she never is though, but if she does... well, let's just say I hope someone does move for her, but chances are they won't.

Christmas Feaver

A holiday oddity for all of you that read this.

Everyone in my family is sick today in some level or another. My sister is on the tail-end of recovering, my aunt and I are battling the winter flu with us on the winning end, my mother is sleeping off her sickness, and dad is popping Halls cough drops like they are going out of style as he is preparing food for the store for tomorrow.

What a way to spend Christmas, huh?

Death of a Runt: A Self Analysis

I'm typing this shortly after learning that one of our pet birds died. It was barely a year old if even that, but it was the runt of the three that made it pass the stage of bird infancy.

My sister was the one that found him as she was returning her favorite of the three to the cage. Granted she isn't here as long or is exposed to the birds as often as I am, but the death of the littlest one affected her so much in a very short period of time. Initial shock quickly went to a state of dispare that resulted in her balling her eyes out as if she had lost a family member. That being said, I can only imagine what she will do when the dog dies. We've had the dog since we moved here, and she's getting up there in age. And technically, she isn't even my dog. But even I know she deserves better than how my sister is taking care of "her puppy."

My parents just accepted it. The little bird had a hard time growing his feathers in. His brothers kept attacking him if he got too close. Then there's the fact that it is getting colder and colder, and us humans seem to forget that there are birds down here that are native to the tropics. A lot of things went wrong, but other than that, my parents are pretty much unaffected by it. That's life, and that's what happens when you have a pet.

Myself? You would think being around the birds as long as I have, I would be affected more than this. Not so. As much as I wanted to separate the runt of the bunch, and as much as I knew that the little guy deserved a better living situation, I couldn't bring myself to care for the small animal. His passing is no different than the two rabbits and countless fish we lost since I was little. All of which I was never responsible for due to one reason or another. I knew my level of responsibility then and I know it now as far as animal care goes. That's why I refuse to have a pet of my own despite how much I like animals.

The death of a pet seems like a rite of passage that I've gone through several times. I should be more affected by this kind of thing, or like my parents, be more accepting but still be sad about a beautiful creature's life being cut short by nature. Especially in this case since we have had the little guy since he was an egg and had to feed him through a syringe! But for some reason, I have not had that surge of emotion that one gets when they see their pet dead after seeing it happy and fine the day before or even the hour before. Hell, I don't even feel like my parents with that sad acceptance.

Now that I think about it, the same thing happened when my grandmother died. I was still very young at the time and probably not even out of second grade. I cried and cried, not because I would never see her again, but because nobody was telling me what was going on. They just said she won't be coming back because she had passed on. I didn't understand what passed on meant until the day care I was shoved into after school took us all to see All Dogs Go To Heaven. They used that term in the script, and it suddenly sunk in what happened. But I don't remember being affected by it. If I was, I probably blocked it out of my mind or was all "Oh... okay, so that's what that meant."

I wonder if I would act the same way if someone I knew and actually cared about died. Would I be so detached from death that I would just blow it off and live life like nothing happen or would I finally mourn for the first time in my life having lost something I loved and know I won't get back ever again?

In retrospect, I've been through this before. Senior year of high school, three students died, two of which I had some kind of association to. One I didn't know very well, the other was generally a bully towards me and would join whatever crowd found my reaction funny and worth goating into a bigger reaction. Both were mourned by the other students that knew them. And all I remember feeling was curiosity as to what it must have felt like to die at a time in your life when you thought you were invincible.

Then again, the death of a pet is one thing. The death of a close friend or family member is another.

Yet both feel the same to me at this point. And both don't affect me as they should.

What I've Been Up To

Okay, it's no secret that I bought Roller Coaster Tycoon 3 with the intent on having fun with the fireworks engine. It's also no secret that it took me the better part of my free time to learn it on my own. No amount of online resources available made any sense of each of the controls, and out of frustration, I ended up teaching myself.

And here's what I ended up with!

Wide Angle


"Peep" Angle

Art - Fun = Business

It's strange the things you learn on the internet.

I was doing nothing more than killing time checking messages when out of nowhere, something caught my eye. A user claimed that she was a traditional artist because she was using pencil and paper and not computers.

Well, naturally, I couldn't pass up this opportune moment to be a thorn in someone's side who thinks they are all that. It's the jerk inside me that thinks they know more than the other person. And in some respect I do in this case.

But she held her ground with very simple logic. She draws for fun, she doesn't like drawing on the computer, she likes to call herself an artist even though she probably isn't one in neither the contemporary sense or even in the modern sense. She gets paid for what she does, but she isn't a commercial artist (or at least she didn't consider herself to be one). She just does it for fun. And if drawing doesn't become fun for her, she will simply just move on. Nothing can stop her from drawing. Not even the changing commercial markets or economy.

That's the simple explanation of our hour-long conversation over the live chat box I saw this in.

But she did bring up something interesting, something I forgot about for a while now.

Art for me used to be fun too. So fun, in fact, that it made me want to become an artist of some kind so I can just sit back, relax, and create whatever I want. I thought it was the perfect job I could ever have, because I would be having fun in the process.

Then I went to college and slowly found out that I need this in order for my piece to be considered art or that in order for it to be considered lucrative or this hidden idea in order for it to be taken seriously. The fun slowly but surely got sucked out of it over the course of every class teaching me how to look at things in an intelligent critical light and mind set.

Combine this with the fact that the art that sells the best to Joe Average is the art of the untrained. By that, I mean people without the education I have in the field of art. Like the user I was talking to earlier, they just do art for fun! And they make it interesting, because it is as close to that "pure art" that we as children produce. And that is something I am told all artists strive for. That freedom of expression and communication.

That being said, in a very acute retrospect of sorts, I'm starting to believe I'm being trained NOT to be what I wanted to be originally. I've admitted time and time again that I got into this field because it was something I enjoy doing and I wanted to become better at it. But the more formal training I go through, the more the fun starts to disappear. I don't feel like I'm being trained to be an artist or even like I'm being trained to make art. I feel like I'm being trained how to become a business product that is ever changing to communicate personal interests in a visual format. A tangible commodity of my own mind.

I guess that's what I find so frustrating. I didn't want to become a commodity. I didn't want my skill or even my knowledge to have a price tag (hence why I don't know when to shut up about a subject matter, which got me into this mess in the first place).

I had more fun in my Drawing class this past semester than I did in any of the classes where I had to learn technical skills because I wasn't worried about deeper content or execution techniques. I was finally doing something for the fun of it and enjoying it. But with Advance Seminar coming up, a class I'm told through the grape vine is one of those classes that is heavy on the idea and not so much on technique, I don't think I'll get that fun feeling back ever again.

(Un)Lucky

First off, as soon as you started reading this, you should know that I just got home after what should have been but wasn't the most liberating and exciting night of my life. And no, it didn't involve me getting laid finally after four years or so.

Through MySpace, I was alerted of a chance to show some work. It was a great opportunity and something that excited me since my debut show gave my ego a much needed stroking. At first, I was hesitant. After Flatline, I was all for it.

Needless to say, Jason was the one that got me to enter the show. He even offered to drive me there, with some after-show plans to hang out.

I like his company. There's something about him that makes me feel normal but at the same time very vulnerable. It's eerily comforting to me.

So how could I pass up that chance? Be in another show, get my ego stroked, afterwards go to a bar and just stare at all the hot men. What could go wrong?

Apparently, a lot.

The first thing that happened was someone misplaced my piece for the Untitled show. It ended up in a pile of trash consisting of brown butcher paper that some of the exhibiting artists used to protect their work as it traveled. It was found after I said to someone that I noticed my piece is MIA. After finding it, three of the organizers came up to me and apologized for what happened. One even went so far as to offer a free buy into the next show (meaning I don't have to pay the registration fee when I apply to exhibit with them again). I'll have to take them up on that offer, provided they remember it. But, more than likely, either I or they will forget that offer between now and then.

After my piece was put up in the show, I noticed that I received more exposure than I did when I debuted in Flatline. Mostly thanks in part to the fact that the show brought in a different kind of art crowd. But as the show progressed and my people watching habit began to take over, I noticed Jason getting more and more bored with what was going on.

And so, we went to Taco Bell. We talked about art, anime, mythology, and signifier. You know, the intelligent artist crap that popular media loves to make fun of.

And then Jason took me to a gay bar. Mostly because I needed the exposure to a different social scene. And that's where things kind of went down the toilet for me.

I was observing and people watching a lot. I wasn't really engaging in conversation so much as I was taking in what was going on around me. Really hot bartenders with their shirts off serving drinks to men that looked like they were old enough to be my dad; that one person that thinks he can dance but in reality looks really trashy in the process; the drag queen playing pool while Britney Spears blares over the stereo. And the more I observed, the more out of place I felt. There I was in a beat up jean jacket, matching jeans with a few paint stains here, and a dingy grey shirt. I looked like I walked out of the 1980's, and was surrounded with people that were more fashionable than me, more intelligent than me, and more attractive than me in their own ways.

As we left, I slowly got depressed. It was the oddest experience. Here I was pretty much going to have the night where I could probably be more like myself than I ever was before in any social situation, but I couldn't do it. I was forced into a social scene I've never been in, and all I did was observe. I could have interacted, but didn't.

A sporadic conversation with Jason led to my inability to drive and how I needed to get a permit five years ago. Greater independence, a better educational experience, and a more enjoyable social life were the rewards. But no determination was felt. No drive. Just the feeling of being more pathetic than when I stalled Jason's car in the middle of an intersection in the office complex, which I never thought was possible.

How can I night I was looking forward end up being so depressing? Most people would say because I let it. I'm sure you would.

Dreams that go BOOOM!

I haven't blogged in a while. You'll find out once I finish my personal project. But I had the strangest, and yet most symbolic dream to date.

I'm sitting at the dinner table with the rest of the family, and we are having are post-meal... whatever you want to call it. You know, mom and dad sit and read the paper while I am off doing my own thing. Not really a family moment, if you catch my meaning.

Anyway, there is a thunder storm happening outside. After a lightning flash, I begin to expect the roar of thunder with great excitement. As the roar slowly crawls louder, the walls and windows begin to vibrate. Nobody seems to notice but me. Then, at the loudest point possible in the thunder roll, every window in the house shatters! Every last one! In mid-fall, the shards of glass all disappear. Not one is left on the ground. There is nothing protecting us from the rain outside anymore, but nobody is affected by this. In fact, our behavior goes on as if nothing happened as the rain starts to find its way into our house.

I know the house is suppose to represent something, but I can't remember what for the life of me. I can only wonder what it means when this kind of event happens in them.

Sex Dream no. 6

This time around, it features a really buff "gentle giant" type of guy. Probably from the Marines if I had to guess in my dream. However, as nice and kind as the guy is, load him up with alcohol and his maturity drops to that of a frat jock with a bulk supply of condoms. Other than that, he acted really sweet. Hell, in the dream, he had no qualms about doing silly things like carrying me on his shoulders just so I can check high shelves for things I may or may not need. He also liked to walk around with nothing but a pair of knee-length ripped jean shorts for some reason.

In the dream, we left him in charge of the house as we were driving down to some mall in the heart of Walt Disney World. That's my nerd of a subconscious mind for you!