BAM it's SAM!
Prop building, horror fanatic, comic booking, videogaming shit-show of a human who lives like its 1950.
Well, not really a rant, more of a bitch fest about life right now.
Let’s start at being poor as fuck. I’m poor as fuck. I get money and it goes straight on the credit card or for gas. I’m trying to make money off my art, and so far I’ve made 200 bucks which is so awesome but it costs money to make money and I’m sinking. I start a new really good job on Monday so I’m hoping my poverty situation looks up soon.
Speaking of work, the HR girl at this new company is soooooo bad at returning calls or emails. I’m livid that she won’t talk to me when I really need to. I’m hoping I won’t have to deal with her once im settled into the company.
It’s been about a year since I heard from IATSE last. A few theater calls, but no film. I’m so discouraged by that. I saw a trailer for Interstellar and got so sad that that was the last thing I got to work on. I was finally getting into the industry and making good money, and now it’s all gone. I don’t know what to do.
I’m sick of people handing me jobs and no support. I’ll be in charge of props and set on a show and no help. Small car and get tossed 100 bucks if I’m lucky. It’s awful and really aggravating. There’s nothing in it for me in the end, because quite frankly I don’t care about the name on the page (which my most recent one forgot btw) or my thirty dollar honorarium for working my ass off. It’s just stupid. And then there’s the unpaid stuff for friends. I only do it for them and to be part of the group. I’m losing any spark of wanting to work in theater.
And then there’s my sexual harassment case. This asshole kind of manipulated me and keeps mentioning how I owe him. It started creepy but just got gross. He started telling me about the sex dreams he has of me and how nice my breasts are and shit like that. I was really disturbed by it for like two days until I finally gathered the courage to tell my company about it. They haven’t replied to me.
It’s one thing to have someone tell you you’re pretty, it’s another to get intrusive and repulsive. I’m going to end this man. If he ever touches me he’s a fucking goner. I started crying over all this unwanted attention because all I want is for my boyfriend to tell me I’m beautiful and hold me. But no, I get a fucking nasty 40 year old native man who probably won’t even get in trouble in the end. Just fuck.
"we are groot" more like i’m crying in a cinema surrounded by strangers over a cgi racoon like creature and his dying best friend the talking tree
Nothing scars you more than the negative shit your own parents tell you.
Hahaahaha this is my life. I try not to let it fuck me up but oh boy