In April of 2016, about a month into our Canadian adventure, I accepted full time employment with the self-proclaimed largest junk removal company in the world.
I was to be an agent in their call centre, taking incoming calls from whoever felt like calling in, with the ultimate goal of booking as many junk removal jobs as possible. As often seems to be the case in my life, it was a job I had no experience with in a totally foreign environment, the perfect opportunity to learn new skills.
The company was a franchised business started up and still headquartered in Vancouver, with owner/operator franchises throughout Canada, the U.S.A. and Australia. Most calls required dealing with Americans, the ultimate test of patience, though I worked later shifts to coincide with peak call times from Australia (time differences, yo).
Basically the system worked like this: customer has a bunch of old furniture or household rubbish lying around, they call in, we give them a run-down of the service over the phone and arrange a time for two guys in a truck to show up at their location to give them an estimate on the cost of removing the items based on the space the items take up in their truck, if the customer likes the price the guys go to work and get the stuff they have loaded up to be taken off and disposed of with recycling or donating being the preferred method where available.
For the most part it was an enjoyable experience. By nature of the job, the people I worked with were all very friendly and made for a lot of fun in between calls. Fostering a positive workplace culture was high on the list of company priorities and they did a pretty good job of it. In particular the other people on the Australian team were all great and a good source of home culture (or close enough to it anyways).
While working in a call centre got boringly repetitive pretty quick, I was trained in different aspects of the job pretty frequently. Between that and sales competitions on a daily, weekly and monthly basis it was bearable for the 6 or so months I was there. It was rare that I got through a full week without some kind of bonus money from comps and I even managed to win myself a kindle in one of the monthly contests which was pretty sweet.
On top of being relatively well paid and incentivised, the company also gave me a benefits package which I got a few free chiropractor sessions and a couple of therapeutic massages out of. My one regret is not using more of the benefit money offered while I was there. Oh and an endless supply of decent filter coffee didn't hurt either.
While I'm definitely glad to be on the other side of the experience, it was a huge help to have stable full time work in Vancouver. It enabled Clem and I to live comfortably while both putting enough away to be enjoying our travel time as a I write this and never thinking twice about getting out to experience what Vancouver had to offer (So many good restaurants, a couple of good coffee spots, Ellie Goulding live, Canucks hockey, Book of Mormon, Grouse Grind, Capilano suspension bridge to name a few).
The getting sworn at by people who called us in the first place over things as trivial as pricing was never fun, the people dumb enough to think a free service could afford extensive advertising and a 1-800 number were insufferable but the many happy customers served both new and returning and the friends I worked with made it worthwhile. Working in a call centre co-ordinating junk removal was a test of patience, an opportunity to improve sales skills, an opportunity to improve customer service skills and lead to some solid friendships along the way. As much as I don't miss it, I'm glad to have had the experience.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Monday, December 19, 2016
First Weeks in Canada
Upon arrival in Vancouver, Clem and I were met simultaenously with the excitement of possibilities and the overwhelming list of things that need to be accomplished within a short time when moving to a new place.
We had temporary accommodation sorted courtesy of Couchsurfing (Shout out to Taz, the best host anyone could ask for) which gave us a bit of freedom in our first few days to get the rest sorted at a relatively leisurely pace.
We were exceptionally lucky with how smoothly everything went for us after our arrival. Our first real day, we stopped in at a Service Canada centre and had our S.I.N's (basically Canada's version of a social security number) sorted in less than an hour, got bank accounts set up through TD who offer 0 fees (North American banks suck for fees, they sting you wherever they can) for the first 6 months on any account for people who are new to Canada and started our search for permanent housing.
After combing through padmapper, kijiji and craiglist for suitable places within our price range that looked to be in accessible areas of the city, we fired off a few messages and setup a couple of viewing times. Everything had been so easy for us so far and everyone had lived up to the stereotype of Canadians being nice that we were beginning to get suspicious. Surely, something had to give sooner or later. It didn't. The first place we viewed was perfect for us. A downstairs but not basement suite with our own bathroom, kitchen and well sized bedroom and our own outdoor access in a house with 5 other people. Basically it was a private space with the option to come and go through our own door without having to go into any of the rest of the house if we didn't want to, but also living with a bunch of great people so plenty of social opportunities too.
The next day we officially moved into our new place which came unfurnished. Again resorting to kijiji and craigslist we quickly found someone who sold ex-display and ex-hotel beds on the cheap and was willing to drop us off a queen mattress and boxspring to our door for about $100. The bed was perfect, the mattress super comfortable and clean and the guy who dropped it off helped us get it set up as well.
With long term accommodation sorted in a spot that was 5 minutes walk from the skytrain (Vancouver's metro train network, basically their version of a subway) and only a handful of stops from downtown, the only thing left to do was get work sorted. Clem and I both signed up to a few recruitment agencies with the hope of finding the odd bit of temp work to pay our bills until we found something long term.
I got in touch with a moving company and as well as a bit of labour work through agencies, I got the odd day on the trucks. Highlights from that experience include moving a multi-millionaire out of a North Vancouver waterfront mansion, and moving a small flying company's gear out of one hangar into another one at Vancouver airport, which involved handling a lot of small aircraft components. Clem also picked up the odd day of work doing various office tasks for different companies.
Before we had left New Zealand, I'd received a message on Couchsurfing regarding work. I'd posted on Couchsurfing the rough details of our trip which is how we managed to get a host for our first few days. Someone had sent me a message telling me to get in touch with them once we were in Vancouver with regards to call centre work. At the time I'd sort of written them off as one of those door to door type direct marketing companies where I'd be stuck cold-calling people all day trying to get them to donate to charity and getting paid by pure commission. They'd left me the name of the company and a brief description of what they were all about. The reason they'd sent me a message was because their call centre serviced their Australian customers and they were after people with Aussie and Kiwi accents for authenticity.
In the end after reading through information about them and hearing about some of the things they offered ($13.50 an hour as a training wage for the first month and $16.50 after the first month plus an incentive structure based on performance, free beer every 2nd friday, only taking inbound calls) I decided to give them a call and started working there in April, approximately one month after arriving. Not long afterwards, Clem was assigned to a job through one of her temp agencies who liked her enough to keep having her back and ended up there full time for the rest of our time in Vancouver. Essentially within our first month, we had everything we needed to be comfortable for the entirety of our 7 month stay in Van, not too shabby.
In our first weeks of Canadian life, we were met with Canadian loveliness in all its glory, managed to get ourselves set up in permanent accommodation with ease and had no trouble finding work. Massive thanks to everyone who helped us out in our early days in Vancouver especially Taz for hosting us in Richmond for our first week, Tyler for being awesome and welcoming us into an awesome house and Brendan along with all of the fantastic work people who made my life in Vancouver very easy.
My next post here will be about call centre life in Vancouver, with the world's largest junk removal company.
We had temporary accommodation sorted courtesy of Couchsurfing (Shout out to Taz, the best host anyone could ask for) which gave us a bit of freedom in our first few days to get the rest sorted at a relatively leisurely pace.
We were exceptionally lucky with how smoothly everything went for us after our arrival. Our first real day, we stopped in at a Service Canada centre and had our S.I.N's (basically Canada's version of a social security number) sorted in less than an hour, got bank accounts set up through TD who offer 0 fees (North American banks suck for fees, they sting you wherever they can) for the first 6 months on any account for people who are new to Canada and started our search for permanent housing.
After combing through padmapper, kijiji and craiglist for suitable places within our price range that looked to be in accessible areas of the city, we fired off a few messages and setup a couple of viewing times. Everything had been so easy for us so far and everyone had lived up to the stereotype of Canadians being nice that we were beginning to get suspicious. Surely, something had to give sooner or later. It didn't. The first place we viewed was perfect for us. A downstairs but not basement suite with our own bathroom, kitchen and well sized bedroom and our own outdoor access in a house with 5 other people. Basically it was a private space with the option to come and go through our own door without having to go into any of the rest of the house if we didn't want to, but also living with a bunch of great people so plenty of social opportunities too.
The next day we officially moved into our new place which came unfurnished. Again resorting to kijiji and craigslist we quickly found someone who sold ex-display and ex-hotel beds on the cheap and was willing to drop us off a queen mattress and boxspring to our door for about $100. The bed was perfect, the mattress super comfortable and clean and the guy who dropped it off helped us get it set up as well.
With long term accommodation sorted in a spot that was 5 minutes walk from the skytrain (Vancouver's metro train network, basically their version of a subway) and only a handful of stops from downtown, the only thing left to do was get work sorted. Clem and I both signed up to a few recruitment agencies with the hope of finding the odd bit of temp work to pay our bills until we found something long term.
I got in touch with a moving company and as well as a bit of labour work through agencies, I got the odd day on the trucks. Highlights from that experience include moving a multi-millionaire out of a North Vancouver waterfront mansion, and moving a small flying company's gear out of one hangar into another one at Vancouver airport, which involved handling a lot of small aircraft components. Clem also picked up the odd day of work doing various office tasks for different companies.
Before we had left New Zealand, I'd received a message on Couchsurfing regarding work. I'd posted on Couchsurfing the rough details of our trip which is how we managed to get a host for our first few days. Someone had sent me a message telling me to get in touch with them once we were in Vancouver with regards to call centre work. At the time I'd sort of written them off as one of those door to door type direct marketing companies where I'd be stuck cold-calling people all day trying to get them to donate to charity and getting paid by pure commission. They'd left me the name of the company and a brief description of what they were all about. The reason they'd sent me a message was because their call centre serviced their Australian customers and they were after people with Aussie and Kiwi accents for authenticity.
In the end after reading through information about them and hearing about some of the things they offered ($13.50 an hour as a training wage for the first month and $16.50 after the first month plus an incentive structure based on performance, free beer every 2nd friday, only taking inbound calls) I decided to give them a call and started working there in April, approximately one month after arriving. Not long afterwards, Clem was assigned to a job through one of her temp agencies who liked her enough to keep having her back and ended up there full time for the rest of our time in Vancouver. Essentially within our first month, we had everything we needed to be comfortable for the entirety of our 7 month stay in Van, not too shabby.
In our first weeks of Canadian life, we were met with Canadian loveliness in all its glory, managed to get ourselves set up in permanent accommodation with ease and had no trouble finding work. Massive thanks to everyone who helped us out in our early days in Vancouver especially Taz for hosting us in Richmond for our first week, Tyler for being awesome and welcoming us into an awesome house and Brendan along with all of the fantastic work people who made my life in Vancouver very easy.
My next post here will be about call centre life in Vancouver, with the world's largest junk removal company.
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Thoughts From an Aeroplane Bound for Vancouver
In my spare time I try to push myself to free-write whenever I have a pen, a particular writing book and enough ambition. My usual exercise is to write non-stop until I've filled a page in this particular book which usually takes close to ten minutes at a casual writing pace. The following is largely one of these free-writes from the flight to Vancouver mostly used to put my mind at ease and to try to make myself feel tired so I could sleep on the plane:
Aeroplanes are great thought incubators. Even more so when you're trapped on one for roughly 12 hours.
You get through a movie, knock back a drink and before you know it, you're bored with the screen in front of you and you've killed a grand total of 2 hours.
To say the very least I'm excited. I am 10 hours away from the adventure I've been working towards in some way or another for almost 2 years. I am also terrified. This may surprise most of those who know me but I always am terrified when travelling far from home. I should hope that I always will be. Fear goes hand in hand with excitement and there's nothing like a leap of faith into the unknown to bring a welcome helping of both.
North America is hallowed ground to me. It has held a sense of home for a while. I am ready for this.
I have with me my favourite person, without whom this adventure would be less than half as exciting.
These are the thoughts and feelings that occupy my mind at what must be about 10.15 p.m. New Zealand time. They are the culmination of the planning, waiting, dreaming that has brought me to this plane seat.
I have a cue of good music lined up. As I come to the end of this page, my next time-wasting tactic is to listen myself to sleep as the mid-flight game plan on these long hauls so often is. This has been a long time coming and I could not be more grateful for the harmonious way in which everything has timed out.
Roll on Vancouver
Aeroplanes are great thought incubators. Even more so when you're trapped on one for roughly 12 hours.
You get through a movie, knock back a drink and before you know it, you're bored with the screen in front of you and you've killed a grand total of 2 hours.
To say the very least I'm excited. I am 10 hours away from the adventure I've been working towards in some way or another for almost 2 years. I am also terrified. This may surprise most of those who know me but I always am terrified when travelling far from home. I should hope that I always will be. Fear goes hand in hand with excitement and there's nothing like a leap of faith into the unknown to bring a welcome helping of both.
North America is hallowed ground to me. It has held a sense of home for a while. I am ready for this.
I have with me my favourite person, without whom this adventure would be less than half as exciting.
These are the thoughts and feelings that occupy my mind at what must be about 10.15 p.m. New Zealand time. They are the culmination of the planning, waiting, dreaming that has brought me to this plane seat.
I have a cue of good music lined up. As I come to the end of this page, my next time-wasting tactic is to listen myself to sleep as the mid-flight game plan on these long hauls so often is. This has been a long time coming and I could not be more grateful for the harmonious way in which everything has timed out.
Roll on Vancouver
Brotherly. Love.
In November of 2015 my older brother married his fiancee in a beautiful chapel, overlooking the rugged South Coast of Wellington.
There's something surreal about watching the first child of your generation get married. The photographs of parents' weddings, aunts' and uncles' weddings when they were in their early 20s come to mind. It is strange to be reminded of these pictures in the midst of re-creating them, knowing that these will one day be the pictures that his children will thumb through in awe of how their parents looked when they were younger. They will marvel at the style of our suits, the way in which we wore our hair, the magnificence of their mother in her red wedding dress.
One day my own children will look at them and think how strangely different Uncle Campbell and Aunt Linda look on their wedding day in comparison to their modern day middle aged counterparts. It is a strange eventuality to suddenly become aware of in the midst of the most joyous of occasions.
Perhaps I'm full of shit and entirely too fanciful.
At any rate, my brother, the oldest of myself and all our first cousins, married the love of his life in November of 2015 in a beautiful little chapel that comes part in parcel with an equally gorgeous reception venue, both of which overlook the rugged South Coast of Wellington.
I had the honour of being the Best Man which meant aside from organising the bachelor party where myself and several of his closest friends attacked him with paintball guns over the course of several hours, I also had to deliver a speech at the reception.
The ceremony was a lovely coming together of cultures, the bride was stunning in red as per Chinese tradition and my brother glowed in his tux in a way I've never seen before.
As I suppose is a side-effect of growing up, occasions where the whole extended family gets together are few and far between so it was lovely to have everyone there in celebration. In particular it's always fun to see the cousins I grew up with who I'm lucky to hang out with once a year, us all being spread out across the country and across the world from each other.
The reception was, as expected, an emotional experience given the combination of Campbell being the first of our generation to get married and the somewhat tumultuous way in which we grew up, our parents splitting up when I was about 4 and Cams about 6.
Not long before speeches, my grandparents on Dad's side had asked me to include an official "welcome to the family" from them to Linda which I agreed to do for the sake of honouring their sense of tradition.
I spoke about growing up together, what brotherhood meant in the context of my relationship with Campbell over the years. We were raised by our mother who worked full time which often left us with only each other for company. This meant that I relied heavily on Campbell for advice, protection and help from our days in primary school through to my first couple of years in high school. I'd like to think he needed me as much as I needed him through much of growing up.
Anyone who knows me now, knows that I'm a fiercely independent person. I move in the direction of my dreams and I try to ignore the voice in the back of my head whispering negativity in my ear as much as I possibly can. I am unafraid to take chances and I'm unashamed at how little I have figured out at this stage in my life.
I owe a lot of that attitude to having grown up in a supportive family environment, and knowing that if I really fuck things up, I have an amazing big brother who always has my back and is perfectly happy not to tell Mum.
I managed to get through my speech without totally losing my shit, and only cried a little at the end when I'd said pretty much everything I wanted to say.
My parents also had heartfelt words to offer, I can't say I kept it together too well during their time with the mic.
The reception was capped off by an awesome dinner, lots of dancing, and a lot more drinking than I maybe should have done. I spent most of the night after the formalities hanging out with cousins but managed to first do a round of quick catch-ups with pretty much everyone, and some introductions to the few that hadn't had the chance to meet Clem yet.
Credit to Campbell and Linda, they pulled off one hell of a party! If either/both of you are reading this, congratulations and may your years together be full of joy.
It's a strange feeling to have grown up with a brother, to have seen him in so many different lights, relied on him for so many things over the years and to see him at the happiest I've ever known him to be, promise himself for life to the woman he loves. Truly a unique and remarkable combination of emotions.
I had the honour of being the Best Man which meant aside from organising the bachelor party where myself and several of his closest friends attacked him with paintball guns over the course of several hours, I also had to deliver a speech at the reception.
The ceremony was a lovely coming together of cultures, the bride was stunning in red as per Chinese tradition and my brother glowed in his tux in a way I've never seen before.
As I suppose is a side-effect of growing up, occasions where the whole extended family gets together are few and far between so it was lovely to have everyone there in celebration. In particular it's always fun to see the cousins I grew up with who I'm lucky to hang out with once a year, us all being spread out across the country and across the world from each other.
The reception was, as expected, an emotional experience given the combination of Campbell being the first of our generation to get married and the somewhat tumultuous way in which we grew up, our parents splitting up when I was about 4 and Cams about 6.
Not long before speeches, my grandparents on Dad's side had asked me to include an official "welcome to the family" from them to Linda which I agreed to do for the sake of honouring their sense of tradition.
I spoke about growing up together, what brotherhood meant in the context of my relationship with Campbell over the years. We were raised by our mother who worked full time which often left us with only each other for company. This meant that I relied heavily on Campbell for advice, protection and help from our days in primary school through to my first couple of years in high school. I'd like to think he needed me as much as I needed him through much of growing up.
Anyone who knows me now, knows that I'm a fiercely independent person. I move in the direction of my dreams and I try to ignore the voice in the back of my head whispering negativity in my ear as much as I possibly can. I am unafraid to take chances and I'm unashamed at how little I have figured out at this stage in my life.
I owe a lot of that attitude to having grown up in a supportive family environment, and knowing that if I really fuck things up, I have an amazing big brother who always has my back and is perfectly happy not to tell Mum.
I managed to get through my speech without totally losing my shit, and only cried a little at the end when I'd said pretty much everything I wanted to say.
My parents also had heartfelt words to offer, I can't say I kept it together too well during their time with the mic.
The reception was capped off by an awesome dinner, lots of dancing, and a lot more drinking than I maybe should have done. I spent most of the night after the formalities hanging out with cousins but managed to first do a round of quick catch-ups with pretty much everyone, and some introductions to the few that hadn't had the chance to meet Clem yet.
Credit to Campbell and Linda, they pulled off one hell of a party! If either/both of you are reading this, congratulations and may your years together be full of joy.
It's a strange feeling to have grown up with a brother, to have seen him in so many different lights, relied on him for so many things over the years and to see him at the happiest I've ever known him to be, promise himself for life to the woman he loves. Truly a unique and remarkable combination of emotions.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Star Trekkin...
To those reading that are unfamiliar with the city I grew up in, you're about to get a good idea of how crazily quirky it can be. Wellington is renowned for its eclectic arts scene and I cannot stress enough the eclectic part of that phrase.
For the last couple of years in the city, a group of players and creative-minded theatre folk who operate under the moniker "Enterprise Entertainment" have put on a production called Summer Star Trek. Basically, it's a low budget, high enthusiasm outdoor theatre show in which a carefully selected episode from the original (George Takei, Leonard Nimoy, William Shatner...) Star Trek series is acted out live.
As "After the Dance" was fast approaching its closing nights we inevitably began to discuss amongst ourselves what was next for us in theatre. One of our leads mentioned that Summer Star Trek auditions were coming up (he had previously played Kirk in their productions) and someone else mentioned that they were planning on auditioning as well. I hadn't thought much about doing any other theatre related things but I got to thinking that this might be a fun thing to go out for. I got in touch with Enterprise Entertainment and booked myself an audition time.
The episode they had picked for the upcoming show was "Mirror, Mirror" in which the Enterprise crew find themselves accidentally switching places with their "evil" counterparts in an alternate universe. I watched the episode a couple of times, looked through the scenes they had picked out for the audition process and decided that I'd quite like to be Dr McCoy.
The auditions rolled around, I was horribly nervous and managed to get through the obligatory 1-minute monologue I'd chosen which was a short excerpt from "Saving Private Ryan" that I thought would be good for conveying emotion subtly. We ran some scenes from the show, I relaxed a little bit and it ended up being quite fun by the time it ended.
I left feeling as though I'd done well but my audition group was quite a small one and we were the last group so I wasn't overly confident about the likelihood of being cast.
At the time I was exhausted from work and the schedule I'd had to live on for "After the Dance" which was basically: wake up at 3.30am for work, work 8 hours then come home around 12.30 to sleep for a bit, wake up around 5pm to have dinner and get to the theatre for call time, finish the show and come home to sleep a few hours before work.
The proposed Star Trek schedule was basically 3 months of rehearsals before performances and performances split over two weekends and I wasn't sure how much I wanted to commit to that sort of a schedule with working early mornings. I made the decision that if I was offered a part with no lines or very limited lines I'd turn it down in favour of a healthier sleep schedule. Then I got a call from the director.
Being a big ball of nerves, I let the phone ring out and waited for the txt to come through telling me I had a new voicemail. I ran a few scenarios through my mind and planned how I would react to various different outcomes before deciding to put myself out of my misery and just check the message.
I had been offered the part of Farrell: The personal guard of Captain Kirk in the "evil" universe. This was not the smallest part in the show nor the part with the fewest lines. It was however, a very small part with very few lines. I decided not to take it.
I then went to the kitchen, gathered the necessary ingredients from the cupboard, pre-heated the oven, mixed everything together, poured it into an oven-safe dish, baked it for an hour, took the dish out of the oven and left it to cool before cutting myself a big ol' slice of humble pie which I promptly consumed. It was a little bitter at first.
There was nothing else coming up that I wanted to audition for and I decided that being involved with something as crazy as an outdoor Star Trek show in any capacity was better than not being involved and regretting it later.
I took the part, put as much focus and effort as I possibly could into my character outside of my lines and had a hell of a lot of fun.
The rehearsal process was long but the company was fantastic. The shows all went really well and drew large and enthusiastic crowds. A lot of people I'd met through "After the Dance" came along to see the show as did some of my family including Mum who happened to be in Wellington for work during the performance run.
At the after party event, our director Shannon gave out award certificates along with one of the prop badges each that we had used for costuming during the show. That was a really nice touch and it takes someone who really cares about every facet of a production to personalise something like that for every member of cast and crew involved.
I made some good friends through Summer Star Trek and looking back its amazing to think about how many cool experiences I almost missed out on over something as trivial as not getting the specific part that I originally wanted.
Enterprise Entertainment also do a Star Wars themed show called 30 minute trilogy which sounds exciting and I'm sad I can't be a part of it, as happy as I am to be hanging out in Canada for the next little while. I'll definitely be signing myself up for auditions with these guys the next time I'm in town, they're a great group of people to have worked with.
The next post here will be about my big brother's wedding in November of 2015, Live Long and Prosper.
For the last couple of years in the city, a group of players and creative-minded theatre folk who operate under the moniker "Enterprise Entertainment" have put on a production called Summer Star Trek. Basically, it's a low budget, high enthusiasm outdoor theatre show in which a carefully selected episode from the original (George Takei, Leonard Nimoy, William Shatner...) Star Trek series is acted out live.
As "After the Dance" was fast approaching its closing nights we inevitably began to discuss amongst ourselves what was next for us in theatre. One of our leads mentioned that Summer Star Trek auditions were coming up (he had previously played Kirk in their productions) and someone else mentioned that they were planning on auditioning as well. I hadn't thought much about doing any other theatre related things but I got to thinking that this might be a fun thing to go out for. I got in touch with Enterprise Entertainment and booked myself an audition time.
The episode they had picked for the upcoming show was "Mirror, Mirror" in which the Enterprise crew find themselves accidentally switching places with their "evil" counterparts in an alternate universe. I watched the episode a couple of times, looked through the scenes they had picked out for the audition process and decided that I'd quite like to be Dr McCoy.
The auditions rolled around, I was horribly nervous and managed to get through the obligatory 1-minute monologue I'd chosen which was a short excerpt from "Saving Private Ryan" that I thought would be good for conveying emotion subtly. We ran some scenes from the show, I relaxed a little bit and it ended up being quite fun by the time it ended.
I left feeling as though I'd done well but my audition group was quite a small one and we were the last group so I wasn't overly confident about the likelihood of being cast.
At the time I was exhausted from work and the schedule I'd had to live on for "After the Dance" which was basically: wake up at 3.30am for work, work 8 hours then come home around 12.30 to sleep for a bit, wake up around 5pm to have dinner and get to the theatre for call time, finish the show and come home to sleep a few hours before work.
The proposed Star Trek schedule was basically 3 months of rehearsals before performances and performances split over two weekends and I wasn't sure how much I wanted to commit to that sort of a schedule with working early mornings. I made the decision that if I was offered a part with no lines or very limited lines I'd turn it down in favour of a healthier sleep schedule. Then I got a call from the director.
Being a big ball of nerves, I let the phone ring out and waited for the txt to come through telling me I had a new voicemail. I ran a few scenarios through my mind and planned how I would react to various different outcomes before deciding to put myself out of my misery and just check the message.
I had been offered the part of Farrell: The personal guard of Captain Kirk in the "evil" universe. This was not the smallest part in the show nor the part with the fewest lines. It was however, a very small part with very few lines. I decided not to take it.
I then went to the kitchen, gathered the necessary ingredients from the cupboard, pre-heated the oven, mixed everything together, poured it into an oven-safe dish, baked it for an hour, took the dish out of the oven and left it to cool before cutting myself a big ol' slice of humble pie which I promptly consumed. It was a little bitter at first.
There was nothing else coming up that I wanted to audition for and I decided that being involved with something as crazy as an outdoor Star Trek show in any capacity was better than not being involved and regretting it later.
I took the part, put as much focus and effort as I possibly could into my character outside of my lines and had a hell of a lot of fun.
The rehearsal process was long but the company was fantastic. The shows all went really well and drew large and enthusiastic crowds. A lot of people I'd met through "After the Dance" came along to see the show as did some of my family including Mum who happened to be in Wellington for work during the performance run.
At the after party event, our director Shannon gave out award certificates along with one of the prop badges each that we had used for costuming during the show. That was a really nice touch and it takes someone who really cares about every facet of a production to personalise something like that for every member of cast and crew involved.
I made some good friends through Summer Star Trek and looking back its amazing to think about how many cool experiences I almost missed out on over something as trivial as not getting the specific part that I originally wanted.
Enterprise Entertainment also do a Star Wars themed show called 30 minute trilogy which sounds exciting and I'm sad I can't be a part of it, as happy as I am to be hanging out in Canada for the next little while. I'll definitely be signing myself up for auditions with these guys the next time I'm in town, they're a great group of people to have worked with.
The next post here will be about my big brother's wedding in November of 2015, Live Long and Prosper.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
After The Dance
At some point in mid 2015 I had one of those brilliant cosmic experiences of being in exactly the right place at exactly the right time. While walking from town along Ghuznee street, trying to work out where the closest bus stop was to get home. I happened to look the direction of the Gryphon theatre just as I was passing the window. In the window there happened to be an audition notice. I took down the contact information from it and emailed off an inquiry as soon as I got home (the auditions were due to commence two days from my becoming aware of the notice).
Fortunately I was able to book myself into an audition slot and sling together a 1 minute monologue to audition with. The audition process was as painless as performing in front of a judgement panel of 3 complete strangers and having to run scenes with another complete stranger can be (utterly terrifying) but I got through it. The next day I got a call from the director offering me a small speaking role with a handful of lines. I was ecstatic.
My part was to be the handsome young toy boy of a middle aged upper class woman who is actively refusing to acknowledge the fact that she is indeed getting older. It required me to develop a Cockney accent which was a fun challenge to have, and to create a believable young man who is exceptionally working class and somewhat out of his depth amongst the glamorous company he keeps despite his romantic partner keeping him immaculately dressed. To be frank, it was a glorious amount of fun.
Shortly after the casting being announced for this show which I'll refer to from now on by its title "After The Dance" (Terrence Rattigan for anyone unfamiliar) I got a job working mostly early mornings (4am starts) which became a challenge in terms of tiredness levels and having time to sleep but more on that in a later post.
The production run for the show was set for mid-September with my scenes rehearsing twice a week until the weeks before opening night where for obvious reasons the schedule got a little more involved.
For my first foray into theatre since high school and my first ever show in the realm of amateur theatre as an adult, this was a phenomenal play to be a part of.
I had a lot of fun putting together my small part and making noticeable improvements throughout the rehearsal period but I also learned a hell of a lot about acting from the amazingly talented people that were a part of it all and made a few friends along the way.
Our director entered our performance into a Wellington - wide theatre award and we ended up winning in several categories (my scene partner won best actress without even being one of the two female lead roles!) and gaining honourable mention accolades in several others which was nice because the awards were announced a couple of months after we closed so it gave us all a lovely nostalgic feeling to read through the judges comments about the show.
A lot of the people that were involved in the show have had numerous previous involvements with the different theatre troupes in Wellington so when it came to production time, I felt like there'd be a few nights where I'd be the only one to not know anyone in the audience. When it came down to the production run though, I had a few friends come out to see the show and several out of town family members travelled to Wellington to see it (thanks Marshy, Darshy, grandma and grandad) so there were only one or two lonely nights for me.
I have a lot of moments in my life where I can't believe what stupidly good luck I've had to end me up in particular situations and having the opportunity to act in Stagecraft's rendition of After The Dance is one of them. If anyone from the cast or crew of After The Dance happens to be reading this, know that I am grateful to each and every one of you for making this such an amazing first real theatre experience for me, and that I miss all of you and hope you're having fun with whatever shows you've all been involved with since.
I know that as soon as I'm back in Wellington again (writing this post from Vancouver, B.C. right now) I'll be looking out for audition notices and jumping straight back into theatre life. As much fun as Canada is I'm gutted to be missing out on being a part of Stagecraft's production of History Boys, it's going to be an epic show!
My next post here will be about my other theatre engagement in 2015/ early 2016, SUMMER STAR TREK!
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Speak Up
Some time early last year a friendly acquaintance offered me a short musical set at a gig she was organising. Lacking in confidence and new material, I hesitated in getting back to her and didn't end up playing. Over the last little while I've seen her brand as a rapper expand monumentally and I imagine it's a matter of a very short period of time before you start to see her name in the mainstream of NZ music. Naturally, I've been kicking myself for a while, although I feel a sense of pride at how well she is doing for herself.
In July of last year, I received a message from a poetry friend asking if I was keen on a paid half hour poetry set as part of an event he was organising. Never one to repeat mistakes several times over I replied "Fuck yeah!" or something to that effect.
The event was called Speak Up, designed to be a new monthly poetry event where poets could open mic their work in a safe and friendly environment. Presumably this was to address the overwhelming numbers that Poetry in Motion (an existing monthly event that hosts open mic's and slams throughout the year in Wellington) was starting to see at their events.
I'd come away from poetry shows with a bit of cash in hand before from winning/ placing in slams but this was the first feature length set I'd been offered and the first pre-arranged paid gig I'd been asked to do. I decided to write mostly new material for it and spent the weeks leading up to the big night wonderfully excited, albeit anxious as all hell.
Closer to the day I had the unexpected honour of several of my family members (mostly out-of-town based) saying that they were coming down especially for it. I'd designed my set material around a theme of "shit that happened to me in high school" with poems grouped across topics questioning origin, morality, drug use, alcoholism and sexuality so I was a little worried about what my grandparents might think of it all.
For all my stressing, I decided ultimately not to censor any of my poems and to just go for it as best I could. There was not a comfortable moment on stage for me but I think that's true of any new experience in the realm of live performance. I had similar feelings about my first season slamming even with making it to regionals that year. Nowadays slamming in front of a room full of people comes with the normal nerves but mostly with a sense of fun and camaraderie between poets.
The gig went well. My family loved it. I loved the experience. The organisers seemed happy with their choice of me as a feature performer. At the moment I'm playing with the idea of re-working some of the material from the set into a full-length poetry show for the Wellington Fringe festival the next time I'm in town for one. When I got off stage and all the thank - you's were said to everyone who came along (who are all of my favourites) I felt really good about it all which is a nice place to be as an artist (a state of being that is so often accompanied by crippling self doubt).
Speak Up didn't end up continuing as a monthly event for whatever reason which is a bit of a shame but I am beyond stoked that I was asked to feature on the night. I am also exceptionally proud of myself for taking up the opportunity without hesitation. It stands as a big "fuck you" to all the times I've been kept from devoting time to the things I enjoy most (writing, performing, playing music, socialising with friends) by mental health issues and crippling self doubt.
More thanks than I have words for to Duncan Hope who organised the event, Tarns Hood, who was also a billed poet on the night and is a very talented performer, Michael Gray who ran the door on the night and is always full of kind words and hugs and anyone/everyone reading this who came along to support me on the night. I love you all and you make my life so much easier for being in it.
My next post here will be about my involvement in local theatre in the later months of 2015.
In July of last year, I received a message from a poetry friend asking if I was keen on a paid half hour poetry set as part of an event he was organising. Never one to repeat mistakes several times over I replied "Fuck yeah!" or something to that effect.
The event was called Speak Up, designed to be a new monthly poetry event where poets could open mic their work in a safe and friendly environment. Presumably this was to address the overwhelming numbers that Poetry in Motion (an existing monthly event that hosts open mic's and slams throughout the year in Wellington) was starting to see at their events.
I'd come away from poetry shows with a bit of cash in hand before from winning/ placing in slams but this was the first feature length set I'd been offered and the first pre-arranged paid gig I'd been asked to do. I decided to write mostly new material for it and spent the weeks leading up to the big night wonderfully excited, albeit anxious as all hell.
Closer to the day I had the unexpected honour of several of my family members (mostly out-of-town based) saying that they were coming down especially for it. I'd designed my set material around a theme of "shit that happened to me in high school" with poems grouped across topics questioning origin, morality, drug use, alcoholism and sexuality so I was a little worried about what my grandparents might think of it all.
For all my stressing, I decided ultimately not to censor any of my poems and to just go for it as best I could. There was not a comfortable moment on stage for me but I think that's true of any new experience in the realm of live performance. I had similar feelings about my first season slamming even with making it to regionals that year. Nowadays slamming in front of a room full of people comes with the normal nerves but mostly with a sense of fun and camaraderie between poets.
The gig went well. My family loved it. I loved the experience. The organisers seemed happy with their choice of me as a feature performer. At the moment I'm playing with the idea of re-working some of the material from the set into a full-length poetry show for the Wellington Fringe festival the next time I'm in town for one. When I got off stage and all the thank - you's were said to everyone who came along (who are all of my favourites) I felt really good about it all which is a nice place to be as an artist (a state of being that is so often accompanied by crippling self doubt).
Speak Up didn't end up continuing as a monthly event for whatever reason which is a bit of a shame but I am beyond stoked that I was asked to feature on the night. I am also exceptionally proud of myself for taking up the opportunity without hesitation. It stands as a big "fuck you" to all the times I've been kept from devoting time to the things I enjoy most (writing, performing, playing music, socialising with friends) by mental health issues and crippling self doubt.
More thanks than I have words for to Duncan Hope who organised the event, Tarns Hood, who was also a billed poet on the night and is a very talented performer, Michael Gray who ran the door on the night and is always full of kind words and hugs and anyone/everyone reading this who came along to support me on the night. I love you all and you make my life so much easier for being in it.
My next post here will be about my involvement in local theatre in the later months of 2015.
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