I d[ o_0 ]b LA

So I've survived the internship intact for about two months at this point. All is going really well, and about everything I can tell you about what I'm working on can be found on the Disney Parks Blog or in this Galactic Nights video.

The global headquarters for Imagineering is, as many of you probably know, in Glendale, California, which is a lot closer to Los Angeles proper than my hometown. As such, I've been exploring the sights and sounds of everything the LA area has to offer, from chilling out in Westwood to exploring Griffith Park to checking out the infamous Hollywood Boulevard.

Hollywood Boulevard gets a lot of crap for not living up to expectations - it's busy, it smells like pee and weed, random people will harass you with their mix tape, and nightmarish off-brand characters will try to get you to take pictures with them. Despite the hype, stars don't hang out there beyond scripted, highly guarded events, the Grauman's Chinese theater is usually cordoned off, and you'd be lucky to take of a picture of your star's star on the Walk of Fame without getting bowled over by walking traffic. However,

I find it fascinating.

Not for the reason you'd think. Slight detour - 

Down the freeway a bit, in downtown LA, you'll find an old abandoned hotel that looks a little familiar. The Bradbury Building was used as one of the core sets in Blade Runner*, a favorite movie of mine starring Harrison Ford as an ex-cop who hunts down robots.

Blade Runner has been hailed for decades as the quintessential cyberpunk experience. Some say that it touched off the whole movement. Cyberpunk is a genre that incorporates futuristic technologies into stories of the everyman sticking it to The Man, all bathed in a neon glow. The cyberpunk movement came to prominence in the 1980's as a revolt against boring, unrealistic Utopian visions of  the future in favor of gritty, more "realistic" dystopian dreams.

Back to Hollywood Boulevard - it's the cyberpunk aesthetic realized in the real world - and nobody was even trying. The huge overwrought structures of the Hollywood and Highland complex and the El Capitan theater and all the pageantry and classic architecture that was supposed to be the playground of the rich and famous has been taken over (except for said scripted and secured events) by the destitute and desperate. The reclamation by those locked out of the higher echelons of society has, in a sense, been aided by the advancement of technology - even the guy begging with a fast food soda cup has a smart phone and accepts Venmo. Everyone is trying to get their shot, break the system a little, see what goes on at the celebrity level - all while celebrities are off in Malibu. All this, bathed in the glow of brightly lit electronic billboards promising girls, food, tech - and of course, the classic neon.

The classic cyberpunk stories were all about asking the tough questions of what it meant - what it means - to be human, to be alive. On Hollywood, you see all sorts - rich, poor, locals, tourists, celebrities, gawkers, etc. - all painfully alive, yet apart from each other.

It's a reminder that technology doesn't solve all problems, and that the future sucks - at least if you're on the wrong side of the stantions.

But hey - better an action-packed dystopia where you could win the lottery than a boring utopia, right?



*Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, by Phillip K. Dick, on which Blade Runner is based, is often cited as the first cyberpunk novel and is a great book, regardless. Lead underwear, anyone?

Imposter

"Hi, this is Frank C[inaudible] and - "
we decided that we don't need an intern, thanks for playing, maybe next year
"I just want to let you know about what you'll be doing your first day."

"Dear Miss R, we would like to remind you that - "
your grades suck and so do you and so you don't deserve any of this and this is obviously a cruel cruel joke
"you will need to bring your documents for your I9 form when you come in."

"Hi, just want to give you an update - "
the position has been terminated again and you will again have to drudge through another useless semester
"We finished your background check and we need you to check in to the new hire portal ASAP, m'kay?"


There's this thing bouncing around on the Internet called the Impostor Syndrome. The big idea is that extremely competent people feel like they don't deserve to be where they are, that they are just faking, that at any moment someone who is actually competent will figure them all out and "expose" them. This fear of being "found out" tends to lead to a state of constant anxiety, which can impede competence, which leads to more fear. I first came across this idea in an article about why there aren't more girls in engineering - females are apparently more prone to this kind of self-competence-killing mental spiral.

I've never thought I was good enough - even when I was at the top of my game, acing classes and taking names, there was some small part of me that knew I was doing something wrong - I was outside of the paradigm of the ideal popular athletic smart girl that I thought was the goal - but, as that goal is pretty much unobtainable by mortals, it made me kinda miserable all the time.

And at some point, because of it, I decided to stop caring - because if I can't be perfect, then what's the point of trying, way?

One of the things I'm working on is realizing that I am enough - I don't have to check off all the boxes of the "perfect person" checklist, I am allowed to screw up, and that I am more competent than I seem to be. It's also realizing that everyone else is kinda faking it, too. Part of my challenge this year is to realize that imperfection is okay, that I don't have to be everything to every one, and that I can fall down every once in a while, and I can still get back up.

And if nothing else, I have to remember that it's not falling if you never hit the floor - it's flying.

Last Chance to Breathe

Today was my last day off for the next nine days.

The next four will be wrapping up my current position as a bakery wrapper at Sam's Club, after which, I will hurriedly shove clothes into a bag, shove some food in my face, and drive down to my grandparents' house in Glendale (driving at night, of course - LA weekend traffic is not nice). I will start my internship on Monday, January 29th, in Glendale, and then bust my butt back to my parents' house to do the infamous Disney Traditions class on that Friday morning, and the not-so-famous Imagineering Orientation on the next Monday. Somewhere in there, I need to get someone to give me the tour of the construction site.

After that, who knows? The people I talked to mentioned the possibility of having me be a roving intern, going back and forth between Glendale and Anaheim, because I am lucky enough to have crash pads close-ish to both locations, but from what I can gather, most of my team is based  in Glendale, so I guess I'll end up doing whatever they need me to.

I will try to find time to blog.

Some questions for those of you who stumble upon this blog out of the blue and want ANSWERS, answers, man! (and maybe the family and friends who keep making Russian bots to keep my views up)-

- Would you watch a vlog about my PI?
- Do you want more application tips, which are pretty easy to find? Or do you want more about the experience? Basically, what kind of stuff do you want to read about? (keep in mind, this time, my application process was pretty atypical)
-  What are you most curious about? Not just at Disney, though that will probably feature predominantly, but in general? What can I find out more about to pontificate grandiosely for you?

This may be the last one for a while, so I'll see ya when I see ya.

Never Tell Me the Odds!

Okay, all you aspirants from lifeanchoredinhope.blogspot.com - I'm relevant again.

Despite having awful grades, despite applying really late, and despite accidentally hanging up on someone important (darn Glendale area code throwing me off), I am proud to announce that I have yet again accepted an internship at Disney, this time as an "Intern-Estimating" with Walt Disney Imagineering in Glendale starting January 29. Holy %^&*#!, right?!

How did this come to pass? I applied online in November-ish, got a call and passed the first-round interview, got told that the position was removed for "administrative reasons", resigned myself to normalcy, got a call asking about my availability but telling me not to hold on to too much hope, held on to too much hope, again resigned myself to normalcy, got a call from an 818 number that I thought was spam*, hung up, got an email telling me to call ASAP, called ASAP, talked my way out of going to Florida, got a call from the same 818 area code number for a second round interview while sitting in some random parking lot in Westwood, got an email the next morning, got a call to confirm the job, and finally, e-signed the document saying that I accepted the position.

Easy-peasy.

So why did I get this job? It was obviously my rugged good looks and charm.
Really, I probably had some really good marks in my file from last time and was probably the most experientially qualified out of very few candidates. The job listing was still up a lot later than most of the Spring internships, so I assume that they had trouble getting candidates. Not to sell myself short, though - I do have two pretty prestigious project management type internships under my belt and I'm pretty damn smart. That was enough to balance out my rocky educational stats, I guess.

What's the plan moving forward? I am going to be bouncing back and forth between Anaheim and Glendale, taking an online class, and taking every advantage of the free park entrance. I'm going to keep getting counselling on the weekends (my head's still not quite where I want it to be) and keep practicing self care. I'm really hoping to make some new friends, which should help. I also plan to do a better job keeping up the blog this time. I will be under an NDA about specifics, again, but I should be able to post some cool stories.

How am I feeling? Overall, I'm stoked beyond belief. This is my dream job. Despite having to practically live out of my car, I think it's all going to be worth it.

Again, if anyone has any questions, comments, or otherwise, feel free to comment, or email me at g14racer@gmail.com. I kinda suck at replying, but I will try to get back to you.


*The guy said his name was Frank C[inaudible], which, after just watching The Punisher series, I thought was Frank Castle and the guy was pulling my leg. Oops.

Single Rider-dom

There is a secret back entrance to the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland. One needs a secret ticket to even get in. You hand your ticket to the guy with a conspiratorial wink. You wait for an elevator to take you up over the tracks, then scurry gleefully past the plebes in the regular line, and wait for an elevator to take you down, when you are then unceremoniously shoved into a small bamboo-cordoned queue, where a fedora-hatted cast member yells for ones and twos. You then get on the ride.

Total time: < 20 minutes. Always.

Standby time: ~1 hour. A lot of times, more.

I'm on and off before anyone in the slow line even gets to the awesome inside queue.

Being a single rider is pretty advantageous, even when not at Disneyland. 

Want to go see a movie? Even at the most crowded, there's always that one seat in the middle. 

Want to go to a concert? Don't have to keep track of how drunk your friend is getting.

Want to go eat food? You go where you want to go, order what you want to order, flirt gently with the waitstaff, and leave - no bumbling over who wants to go where, indecision, and coordinating a group. 

Really, why add that extra layer of complexity that compounds with every other person you want to bring along? 

Even before I moved back home, I had a tendency to go the single rider route. Even when I had a boyfriend - for my birthday one year, I decided that I was going to see one of the Thor movies ion theaters. I had my ice cream and movie ticket before I realized my boyfriend also just happened to be there at the dame time. I hadn't even thought about asking him. 

It just makes everything so much easier. There's just one person to keep track of, one set of needs to be met, and one person deciding what's on the radio, and zero solid meetup times to miss, zero people to impress, and zero peer pressure. I can come when I want, and leave if it sucks.

It takes so much time and effort to coordinate with even one person sometimes. 

On the flip side, going single rider does tend to be more expensive - no group discounts, no one to split gas with, no one to buy you that shot except yourself. It can be a challenge to strike up a conversation with people I've never met before. You can end up getting thrown in with some unsavory people. 

But there's also the chance to meet someone awesome, so hang with the other single riders, to find out something new that you never would have found out if you were there with someone. The benefits of exploration and being able to just do things can outweigh the costs that come from flying solo by a massive amount. 

Cuz while I love my friends, sometimes, they are just too dang slow.

Community College vs Four Year College

I've been taking some classes at the local community college, kinda treading water, and I've noticed some significant differences between the community college and the "traditional" college.

For instance, in community college, it is assumed that everybody works. Everybody has a job, or at least some way to make money.
At U of A, that was not the norm. Some people had jobs, but it seemed like most did not and that was that. If anything, people got internships over the summer.

In community college, there are security measures everywhere. There are eye-in-the-skys and bubble mirrors and "public safety officers" everywhere. Everywhere you go, you're potentially being watched.
At U of A, there were entire buildings that seemed like they should have cameras that didn't. Of course, the Student Union was supposedly more secure than a Vegas Casino, but labs and performance spaces were left to their own devices. I mean, locks are breakable and lasers are fricken valuable. I guess there was a higher level of trust?

At community college, people are older. There are still the 18-19 year olds, but a lot of the people who are in freshman-level classes are 21+ - and in every class I've been in there is at least one person who is significantly more established than the average college student is expected to be.
At U of A, seeing anyone over 25 who wasn't a professor or TA of some kind was abnormal and viewed with suspicion. You are expected to go in at 18, do your four years, and either do grad studies or get TF out of there. No one old is allowed.

At community college, you tend to fend more for yourself. There's public high school level disparity between advisers and students, and while the professors are nice, they actually go home at the end of the day.
At U of A, you are smothered with people trying to make your life easier. There was always a prescribed path, a group you get railroaded into, someone you gotta meet to finish something out - at least when you're a freshman - then it goes away fast.

SO overall, plusses and minusses both ways. You don't always necessarily get what you pay for.

Me, Interrupted

This is to answer the dreaded twin questions:

What have you been doing?
and
WTF is wrong with you?

The shortest answer: everything and nothing, all at once.

The long answer:

I guess I had a more difficult time adjusting to college life than I realized or let on. I started having mean/bad/strange intrusive thoughts near the end of my freshman year. Most prominent among those was that "I need to disappear," which, in and of itself is something every socially awkward person thinks every once in a while, but when it's a weekly, daily, hourly occurrence, you know something is wrong.

So I did disappear - I went to Florida and had my Disney World adventure, where I had everything that I thought I wanted - a solid friend group who liked me, a great job, my own money, an escape from the real world, decent roommates, an apartment I paid for, etc., and during that time, I subconsciously tried to cut myself off from the last noticeable vestige of imperfection in my life - my family. I had stopped returning their calls, so they shut off my phone - the last little bit of easy control they had over me. I used WiFi instead, and since everyone I cared about used email, messenger, and groupme, it wasn't too much of a hardship.

After that, I went back to school, spent the summer in a pothead house (I didn't smoke), and when I wasn't in class, I hunkered down in the library until dark, bingeing Smallville and Vlogbrothers and occasionally actually doing homework, alone, hot, bored, tired. I did okay over the summer, but I hated it. To try and break the monotony, I joined Tinder and went on a few dates, none of which led to anything substantial. Despite constantly slugging water, eating semi-healthy, and getting plenty of exercise, and being in regular communication with some people, I felt like crap. At least the dog liked me. Some blogs talk about a "post-Disney depression", so I chalked it up to that and having to wear jeans in 110 degree heat for a shop class.

Then came Senior year, where my slowly downward sloping trajectory took a turn for the exponential. I stopped going to the classes I found boring, then I stopped going to the classes that were in the morning, then I stopped going to Rube, then I stopped going to classes at all - except for my dance classes, and I didn't finish any of the written work they required, making that the one class I didn't fail my last semester. Then I stopped participating in my senior project. And that was it. I still maintained a facade of normalcy - I still had my Wednesday night group, and when people asked me to do fun stuff with them, I did. I was passably sociable, and BSed about "being busy" and "everything's getting so tough" and "I don't know what I'm doing" - I just repeated what everyone else said, and no one was any the wiser.

I tried to get out of the house at least once every day - I did a lot of walking, explored Fourth Ave, went to all the libraries a lot. I actually was on campus most days - I still had a meal plan to work off. I had a quiet corner in the main library with a power socket, comfy chair, and table all to myself that I jealously guarded. At the same time, there were days when I hid in my room and stayed really quiet, hoping that my roommate, whose classes started later than mine, wouldn't notice that I hadn't yet left the house. I left the door closed at night and when I wasn't there so that the cats wouldn't wander in, so it looked the same either way. I went hungry some days because she had most of her classes in the afternoon and didn't leave until well after lunch. I did start going to counselling after a late night anxiety attack, but although the lady was nice, I didn't feel like it helped much.

I got almost literally dragged home by my parents for my little sister's Confirmation, and have been stuck at home since. I still haven't completely unpacked, and a lot of my stuff is still gathering dust in the garage. I took a community college class over the summer, and got a job. I got a C.

I went to see a doctor, who said that I was completely physically healthy. No help there. I went to a psychiatrist, who told me that I had suffered a major depressive episode. That sounded about right. Then, horror upon horrors, she ordered a blood test. After nearly passing out, the results came in. Slight anemia, nothing physical to worry about. So it really was all in my head.

I'm now taking community college courses, getting therapy, and taking meds.

The next logical question:

Am I doing better?

Honestly, at the moment, not really. I'm going to class, and talking to people, and keeping up appearances, but my head's still feeling pretty crowded and confused and scared and I still seem stuck in my own little bubble. I was running along the road more traveled, took a left turn to avoid monotony, ran into a wall, fell almost all the way off the path, and got stuck in a ditch, which, despite some effort, I seem to be digging myself deeper into. I'm trying to blindly feel my way to the train tracks so that I have a minute chance of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. No luck yet. I haven't even figured out if my eyes are open. Telling myself to quit feeling so out of it hasn't worked yet.

So yeah, that's what's going on with me, and WTF is wrong with me. I'll probably expound a bit more later, but that's the overview.

TL;DR: Apparently, I'm depressed. No, I'm not suicidal. And yeah, it sucks. And yes, I screwed up. And no, I'm not sure what to do about it.

So, yeah. That's it for now.