...continued

So the nice SkyCap men bring me to customs, at this point I have been waiting so long that the 6 other international flights passengers had already cleared out so I walked the gangplank to the customs official alone. He eyed my baggage warily and looked at my immigration card:

"Cayman Islands. So what is it all?"

"Um, metal poles, cloth, sandbags."

*giving me the hairy eyeball* "What were you doing?"

"Shooting a Sports Illustrated/Taco Bell commerical."

*eyes brighten, looks around behind me*
"Is there a supermodel on your flight???"

"No, sorry. We flew her back to Brazil."

"Oh. Okay. Well on behalf of our president, George W. Bush and the Government of the United States of America, Welcome Home."

Okay so it wasn't so dramatic as it could have been but after I got through customs I had about 30 minutes to re-check my bags, find my way through the badly signed Miami airport, re-go through security, wait for a tram to take me to my terminal and then RUN to the gate. Thankfully I was flying first class, so I got to bypass the huge line of people but even then it was still really close. As soon as I sat down in my plush leather seat, the flight attendant asked me what if I would like a drink and I never in my life asked for champagne more seriously. Don't be jealous. After that madness I deserved it!

The topping to this whole trip was getting into JFK airport and waiting for over an hour for my enormous amount of baggage that never came and having to go home hoping against hope that I didn't just lose $30, 000 worth of equipment, because that would seriously mess with my final budget.

Well it's over now and I am proud that I made it through without attempting to drown myself in the crystal blue Cayman ocean. I'm also happy to go back to coordinating for a bit where I can rest easy knowing that the weight of all important decisions does not rest on my shoulders.

I'm Back

Ok well I've been back but since the minute I stepped off the plane I was working wrapping the Taco Bell job and then immediately starting a Gatorade job. Truth be told I was doing both jobs at the same time. Shhh! But back to the plane. So I had the luxury of being in first/business class for all the legs of my trip which is amazing and I am totally spoiled now but it did not help what happened in the Miami Airport.

I haven't traveled abroad since I went to China in 2004 and even then I swear I didnt have to do this but when I arrived in Miami from Grand Cayman I had to go through customs and get stamped saying I was indeed back in the US, then I had to pick up my bags at the international baggage carousel, bring them through separate customs and then RECHECK them for the leg to New York. Now this would have been all well and good had I not been a one woman equipment mule for all of our lighting and grip equipment on the shoot. I had 13 overweight and oversize items traveling with me as excess baggage, a total of nearly 900 lbs of crap. Things like this don't come through the carousel, folks. You have to wait until a guy brings it in personally from the tarmac on a cart. And let me tell you, though it may be their job, no one likes pushing around 900 lbs, so it made for some surly men glaring at me.

So I wait and wait in the baggage area where I have convinced a nice SkyCap man to be my personal chauffeur. While we are waiting I explain to him what it is we are waiting for and he says, "Well you have a carnet, right?".

Cut to me with a blank stare on my face.

For those of you who don't know, a carnet is a list of items and values of said items and hopefully serial numbers for said items that you are taking in and out of the country so the government knows if you are selling things so they can then tax you when you get back. OK well its not just for that but moving on.

I tell the nice man, "I didn't need one for the way out, it's just excess baggage. They didn't tell me I would need one on the way in."

"Oh, honey, they're the government. They don't tell you anything. You tell them things and they tell you if it's ok."

I start hyperventilating thinking about being stuck in the Miami Airport with all this equipment and Homeland Security breathing down my neck because I don't even really know what all of it is and how could I leave the country to the CAYMAN ISLANDS with thousands of dollars of equipment and not having been doing something shady. Maybe I went in with 900 lbs of cash and came out with all this equipment in some shady money laundering scheme cooked up by those crazy Hollywood types. Who know the stories could think up.

The pieces finally all arrive. I procur a 2nd SkyCap man because it really is that much stuff and it's time to head to customs...

...To Be Continued

Cayman Kir

Whilst Kir is breaking in her Producer-saddle in the Caymans, I've been working like a Teamster on a new campaign for Merck's HPV pill, Gardasil (in fact I've been making these posts from the car). I was delighted to find the following image in my inbox after a long day of scouting "Strong" Island and Joisey.

Not only do producers manage a budget, hire/fire crew, answer to agency, and generally run the show, they occasionally get asked to stand-in for Sports Illustrated Swimsuit models.

I'm running through a list in my head of producers I've worked for: Michael Tadross, Akiva Goldsman, Nick Wechsler, James Lassiter, Erwin Stoff, Mark Cuban, etc. I can't imagine being as thrilled to see them in such a photo.

Only a few more days before she's stateside!

A benefit of living in the 'burbs.

One morning last week my work laying a new stick-on tile floor (picures coming... sometime) was interrupted by my building's fire alarm. I had a feeling the contractors working on our roof had tripped it accidentally (they had), but I went outside just to be safe. Before I made it back from Dunkin' Donuts there was an entire fleet of fire trucks outside of Bronxville Terrace. Five minutes tops.

A new German expressionist word...

It is a feeling of silliness and embarrassment accompanying a rare, unforeseen gesture of affection. The root of the word can be illustrated in the picture below:

And the word is...


Schpoonenkiten!!

Boomer!

Good friend and best man Drew has been working at the Four Faced Liar (the only bar I ever go to anymore) for the last few months. The Four Face has been my guy circle's Cheers since I was in college. Denver, Shawn, and Kerri always charged me an appropriate amount for a starving but loyal NYU kid. They still do. Let's hope they never find out I've grown up and have something resembling a job.

Drew had been working the door occasionally between trips to Thailand. After the sudden and tragic loss of beloved owner/bartender Denver, Drew made the switch from patron to staffer and began working there more frequently. In the last few months he's been trusted to pull pints and mix drinks on Saturday and Sunday afternoons.

So to get directly to the point of this post:

Drew met a lady friend who lives in the neighborhood ($$$) and she recently let him dog/apartment sit while she was out of town. Boomer is the most amazing animal I've met in some time.

I've been fascinated with St. Bernards since I was a kid, likely due to the Beethoven movies of my childhood. I felt lucky to finally spend some time with one face to snout.

Just to give you a point of reference here, Drew is a big guy--mere inches shorter than me and considerably broader. Thats a big, big dog.

One day I will own a dog 2/3 my size. Just you wait and see.

Cayman Islands

I'm heading to the Cayman Islands today and apologize for leaving all the blogging to Patrick (he obviously does it better than me anyway). I'll be back on Saturday night. Let's all hope I don't lose my head. I already feel like I am.