Re: [Or] An Experiment In Reality
October 11, 2006
The day had come, the day that would start a gigantic experience in my life. At least that’s what I thought. No not thought, hoped. It would be a while before I would find out the impact. I was energized, despite still having my ailment.
There weren’t anymore pairs of pants for me to wear except for my retro polyester pants. I hate wearing them, and if you’ve ever worn polyester pants, you’ll know what I mean. The morning was okay overall, but I was nervous. I was depending on my father to take me from school to public access. My father is not known for his reliability or his memory. I was relying on the wild card, the unreliable parent. I was nervous all day.
Jazz choir was problematic, my voice wasn’t getting better, and I had to try to hit some high notes. I tried, but I sounded terrible. And by terrible I mean horrible. Band was even worse. I found out that I had to do a midterm on a piece of music I hadn’t had anytime to practice due to instrumentless circumstances. I was frustrated, to say the least. Math was blah. I didn’t listen to anything my teacher said, except for the fact that we had eight assignments due. I didn’t really care, figured I would get them done at home.
Shahida still had not given me a response to home coming, and I was starting to get psychotic over it. Science was still boring. I did my vocab cards for English during it. More of the rafts were performed, it took all period. Believe it or not, we still weren’t finished once the period was over, meaning there would be more the next day. History was even more crap. Another day in the library… and nothing was done… I’m surprised our teacher didn’t notice.
Lunch was lunch filled. I finished my vocab cards and showed them to my English teacher. I was hoping and praying that my father remembered to pick me up. Spanish didn’t suck. We finished watching Wallace and Gromit. I had a hard time enjoying it though, I kept glancing at my clock.
I needed to be at the station at 1:30 P.M. At 1:25 I was about to start pulling my hair out when I was called to the office. The request said IMMEDAITELY. I realized that my dad DID remember, he was just taking his sweet time. I ran to the office and met up with him. We left campus and headed towards YCTV.
It wasn’t that far of a trip, about seven blocks. From 5th ave. to 2nd st. We made it there at exactly 1:30. I ran in, excited and ready. It turned out that my dad knew one of the employees, in fact it was the guy doing the presentation, so there was a little chit chat between them before the orientation started. The orientation itself was quite dull. It was a read through of the YCTV producer handbook. It was about a two hour read, where they covered literally every question that we had.
My dad had to leave in the middle of it, meaning I was left to learn by myself. There were only me and five other people, and by the very end only three were left. Everyone else had conflicting issues and had to leave. When the orientation was over, I realized I didn’t have a ride. At least not for an hour and a half. I called my mother to organize the ride, and then took a quick lesson in editing.
The employees at YCTV can give you lessons in all you need to know about producing TV. Best of all, they do them at your convenience. Meaning I could have a quick lesson. One of the employees led me into one of the editing bays and began to teach me about non-linear editing. The most advanced thing they have is a mac with two monitors networked with Final Cut. There was also a VCR/DV player integrated into the computer. But back to Final Cut. Final Cut is one of the hardest programs ever created. Think of it as Adobe Photoshop, Macromedia Flash MX, Powerpoint, and every other complex graphic program. I spent an hour learning it’s basic functions, and had only learned the basics OF the basics. Production was going to be harder than I thought, but I was not going to be deterred. I was going to have a show, even if it killed me.
Soon it was time for me to leave, so I checked out a camera and tripod so I could learn the basics of film. Then two awful and bad things happened. 1. My mom had to drop me off at the school library, which wasn’t that bad unless it was in conjunction with 2. My backpack was in my dads car, and he didn’t have a cell phone. I was screwed. I began to feel like a Pink Floyd song, surreally depressed. I had everything to gain and everything to lose. It was a feeling of utter joy and sorrow simultaneously. I became comfortably numb for about an hour.
I got home at about 7:00. I couldn’t do anything until my father got home. I pacified myself with music and my computer. My dad came home around 9:30, leaving me with no time to do any homework. So I basically said screw it and called it a night.
An interesting note about me and sleeping. When I’m in bed, I am at a state of utter relaxation. There is nothing you can do about anything when you’re lying in bed, so there is no point in worrying. That’s why I always sleep soundly.
10:00 P.M.
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