November 12, 2008

take no prisoners but take my card

It occurs to me lately, as this becomes more and more frequent, that I should think about some sort of card. As in, a business card? Except that I don't have a profession yet. So in all honesty, that'd be kind of stupid.

Scratch that.

Anyway, there is a handful of business cards strewn on my desk from random strangers who I've either chatted with at my work or at some sort of social function in which we've talked shop. Or they've talked shop and I listened intently, since I have very little shop to talk. It's not that I'm impressed that someone has a nice business card boasting their form of consistent income, it's that I usually have nothing to give in return and end up losing their cards and oh well so much for that.
There is a good chance however that they're just eager to dish out the shiny little chips they spent a pretty penny on designing and having printed. Or are too shy to ask for my contact info so they give me a card in hopes I'll get in touch, but who are they kidding that never works.
Because I lose them.

Like yesterday:
One of our former models came into my work asking if we had any of the posters which use to cover the windows that he was in because he wanted one. I had no idea what he was talking about. He was impossibly tall and thin, as models are. The friend he was with was a photog and gave me his card saying, "you should check out my site."
And then what? I thought to myself.

After closing, I booked it to the LES to meet up with Adrian for some Motion Design Conference afterparty at this lounge. He let me in with his VIP pass or whatever and I chucked my things in a corner of a booth, feeling incredibly frumpy and frazzled after work. A bathroom check confirmed that I looked as I felt. I was even wearing glasses that day. However, they're pretty slick frames, and in a room full of geeky graphic/motion design dudes I fit right in. I was like one of them. Designers are for the most part visually impaired.

Adrian gleefully pointed out all the people who's names he knew who were known for doing something impressive in the design world. They couldn't be older than 30.
"Pretty much every big film or design director was at this conference!" he gushed. "Which is why I invited you. I figure you could make some connections."

The one thing I hate doing, am bad at doing and makes me feel like a failure at life. Schmoozing. Eugh.

I pointed out one guy who I thought looked familiar from the one shoot I did with Hush Studios a couple months ago. I could've sworn it was him but Adrian didn't know. He texted me in the morning saying he had just seen a presentation from that studio including the footage of what I was in. I was projected on something like a 40ft tall screen in some conference. Weird. What's weirder is he saw the results before I did. Not fair. Apparently it's going to be in the Nokia store in January and not October like they said because they're still working on the technology the footage is supposed to showcase.
Mostly I couldn't help noticing how the room was a total sausage-fest, save for some dudes' girlfriends probably and the one or two women who actually were designers. Literally one or two. Also, that graphic/motion design offers a wide array of very attractive geek.

Some bespecled dude spoke to me while I was online for the bathroom (it was a very short line considering it was a room full of guys. There was however, pee all over the floor. Not housebroken) explaining how he does something in design which I forgot but his card said music producer so that was weird.
"I don't have a card, but sometimes I go by Sabletooth Tiger?" I said uncertainly. Which is probably worse than not having a card. Thank Gourd he laughed. "You can Google that!" I added, why I don't know.

I should've added, "all one word" because any other way you google it just leads to some blond Canadian hipster chick's myspace. Imposter of me. Hiposter!

As fate would have it, we were thinking about leaving when I saw the one person I figured... I would not. And probably wants nothing to do with me by now. Just as I was telling Adrian the pattern of things. New York is funny like that. It's smaller than you think it is.

I don't believe in "signs." Rather, I can't remember when any sign has ever believed in me. [Christmas miracle 08!]

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