I used to hate the politics of show business.

But, the older I get and the longer I live in LA, working in the Hollywood system, the less I care about what people think of me – (big sigh) and it sure does feel good. Here’s how I remember it, after several glasses of cabernet.

Picture it – the grand ballroom at Hollywood & Highland – right across from the El Capitan theatre. About 1000+ motion picture accountants and studio finance people – happens once a year. I’ve been to about 11 of them now. Hollywood’s a small, small world . . . at every single one of these gatherings, I know I’m gonna see people I adore and people I want to desperately avoid . . . people who’ve fired me or annoyed me. Add one open bar. Stir. Mingle.

So, last night, wandering the ballroom alone in the massive crowd, I spotted two accountants I worked with back in 2003, when I worked on the movie The Italian Job. I got fired from that show. In years past, I probably would have  scuttled by, hoping they didn’t see me. Not this time. I walked right up, plopped my plate down and ate dinner with them. It was civil; lots of smiles all around. That was nice.

Later, I ran into my old friend James from film school, who’s also in the biz. We talked for a long time, I told him about my dinner companions. A few minutes later, James grabbed a colleague of his who was walking by and said, “Anna, I want you to meet . . .” but I didn’t hear the name because the room was loud.

“Anna worked on The Italian Job,” said James.

I shook the colleague’s hand, rolled my eyes and said dismissively, “Yeah, I got fired from that show.”

“Oh really?” he said. “Why’d you get fired?”

“Because,” I said. “That show was crazy, the whole department was crazy, and they were basically afraid I was going to go to the studio and rat them out to ‘Daddy Mike,’ the head of studio finance.” I laughed.

*Side note here – ‘Daddy Mike’ was my personal nickname/inside joke only I was party to for the head of studio finance. I always made sure I wore a cute skirt when I took an envelope of checks over for him to sign. Eh, why not, right?

That’s when the James’ colleague throws his head back in laughter, whips out his business card, tosses it down on the table for me and says, “I’m ‘Daddy Mike!’”

Now that I’m older, wiser and accepting of my big mouth, I love the politics of show business.

So, you´ve gotten the letter from the LA City Finance Office informing you that you owe the LA city tax on earnings from a small business from a previous year. Read this post if you need information about the actual letter – including exemption and deadline info.  This post deals solely with the art of speaking to the fine folks down at city finance. You didn´t know that you had to pay a city tax and now you have to physically go to one of The City of Los Angeles Finance Offices and get this whole thing straightened out. Here are some tips that might just save you from having to pay extra money.

• Know the following regarding the ¨ignorance of the liability¨ excuse: this is the most common excuse the office hears. No matter how cute or persuasive or nice you are, if you did not send in your exemption form prior to February 28 of the year immediately following your tax liability then you will have to pay the tax itself, no matter what. (If you somehow get out of it, please let all of us know how you did it.)
• Know the following regarding the penalty portion of your liability: you have the right (no matter what the clerk at the window says) to request a one-time penalty waiver due to your ignorance of liability. A clerk adamantly insisted to me at the West LA office that I could not have a penaty waiver.
• Should a clerk refuse to give you a penalty waiver and this is your first time requesting one, then ask for his or her supervisor. Or simply go to a different LA City Finance Office, which is what I did when I was refused a penalty waiver. There are several Finance Offices in LA County.
• A penalty waiver is a request only. It does not guarantee that your penalty will be waived, but you have a much better chance of a successful waiver if you pay the back taxes on the spot.
• Try to go to the LA City Finance Office early in the morning. The people who work there have to deal with all kinds of schmuks all day long. It´s best if you talk to them before the afternoon rush of other people with problems.
• Always be nice, even if you have a bad experience with a clerk, like I did. This particular clerk was annoyed because I arrived just as the office opened and apparently I interupted her coffee conversation with a co-worker. I suspect this is why she lied and told me that I was not eligible for a penalty waiver.
• Don´t be confrontational with a clerk who informs you that you are still liable for the back taxes – the penalty waiver is the best help they can give you. Not even their supervisors can get you out of your tax portion of the liability.
• Spread the word! Inform your friends who run freelance businesses in the City of LA about this issue so that they can get their exemption forms in on time. The City of LA does not inform anyone of their liabilities until after the deadline of February 28. Knowledge is power!

Good Luck! And next year, remember to file your exemption form on time.

Running a teeny, tiny lil’ side biz in LA? Getting 1099′ed because your employer is being cheap? Then read on and save some money on your tax bill! Because, oh yes, the City of Los Angeles wants their piece of the pie and what you don’t know will cost you plenty! What you will know after reading this article could get you an exemption from a city tax liability that you probably didn’t even know you had.

Don’t expect your tax accountant to inform you of your liability with the City of LA. I love my tax accountant, but he didn’t tell me about my responsibilities with the City of LA. Learn from my mistakes and save some money!

I received a letter from the City of Los Angeles back in June regarding a possible outstanding tax liability from the past three years, but I was on the road and couldn’t do anything about it. The reason I write this boring tax post is for all you creative type people out there. If you are anything like me, you are too busy worrying which color looks best with that background or wondering how in the world you are going to hang the stars and moon – literally – for that demanding client. Or you could just be receiving 1099 income for doing some independent contractor work within a creative field in Los Angeles.

Whichever the case – be aware and informed! (Regardless if you are in a creative field or not) If you -

• Have a schedule C on your federal taxes (ie, small business expenses) and/or
• Are 1099′ed for independent contractor work

then you are liable for the City of Los Angeles small business tax.

Ready for the good news?  If your gross receipts (the income before your write-offs) total to less than $100,000.00 then you are EXEMPT. But in order to receive this exemption, you must file for the exemption with the city of Los Angeles before February 28 of the following tax year that you’ve incurred your tax liability. In plain speak, that means if you have any Schedule C income for 2008, then you have to file the exemption with the city no later than February 28, 2009. The exemption is really quite easy to file; it’s just another hoop to jump through down at the LA City Finance Office.

Now for some Q & A:

Q: What if I don’t inform the City of LA that I’ve been 1099′ed or have a small business (Schedule C) on my federal taxes?

A: Well, they will find out . . . like they did with me – there’s some sort of computer program they run/information exchange they have in cooperation with the state. And then, you will still be liable for the back taxes plus a monthly penalty.

Q: But, what if I didn’t know?

A: Crying about it to them down at the Office of Finance won’t help. (I tried that – and I’m convincing.) You still have to pay it.

Q: But that’s not fair! I still have to pay the penalty, even if I didn’t know about my liability?

A: A lot of stuff in life isn’t fair, but you can request a one-time penalty waiver due to your ignorance.

Q: I already have to deal with this issue and I’m already late. Do you have any advice on how to talk to the people at the City of Los Angeles Finance Office?

A: Yes, I do. Click here to read that post. Trust me, you want them to like you. You want them to like you – A LOT. If not, they could make your life miserable and you might have to pay more than you should.

Q: I just received a letter saying that I owe for 2009? I don´t understand.

A: Make sure you file your exemption form with the city of LA (if your gross receipts for this year end up totaling less than 100,000.00) between January 1 and February 28, 2010 and you will be exempt!

So, now you’ve read the article. Now you know. Save some money. Get your butt in there and file that exemption form so that you don’t have to shell out hundreds or (if you did really well in your small business last year) thousands of dollars of Los Angeles City taxes that you technically are not liable to pay – if and only if you file that god-damned form in a timely manner.

And then the adventure whisks you away.

One minute you’ve got plans and schedules and the next . . . well, the next . . . you walk into work and they tell you there’s no money.

That’s what happened yesterday. Yep, after three months of starts, stops, promises and excuses, Capitol Films finally conceded – they essentially gave us 24 hours to pack up the accounting office and get out of town. They’ve got a roughly 30 million dollar mess on their hands – a movie that’s 95% in the can and 100% in the toilet.

I’m pissed. We all are. Capitol Films is splitting town with no intention to pay the shooting crew’s last week of pay that they worked so hard for. And they have no intention to pay the vendors who extended support and services for the making of the famously troubled film I’ve been working on for two months called “Nailed.”

Flown in as an emergency assistant accountant, I knew what I was getting myself into when I took this job with Capitol Films. I knew that they are very slow to give up the money. It’s like the ‘studio’ heads over there are in some fantasy world where they think that filmmaking doesn’t require funding. David Bergstein, the owner of Capitol Films has a ga-jillion bucks in his bank account. And doesn’t care that he’s fucking over hundreds of people.

If I’d have known that they were going to skip town owing millions of dollars, I would not have come here.

So, with 24 hours notice, I’m jetting town. Today. This afternoon, heading to Nashville, Tennessee for a little recuperation . . . one day I had Fourth of July plans with new local friends in Columbia, South Carolina . . . and the next thing I know . . . I’m hopping a plane without even time for a proper good-bye. I had my travel plans switched after they dropped the bomb on us because it’ll just be too depressing to stay, knowing the swath of monetary destruction that this horrible company is leaving in their wake.

Plus, if I don’t leave today . . . who knows if the ticket will be good later?

So, here I am in my hotel room this morning . . . tired, a bit hung-over and bleary-eyed. I’ve got about an hour to pack, but I’ve been on stand-by mode for weeks now, ready to jet literally at a moment’s notice. But I thought I’d have some sort of warning . . . nope . . . whoosh.

Here one minute, gone the next. On the road again. Ahh, the open road.

1. Take a nap. For as long as I want. This may take a couple of days.

2. Take a nice long bath. If I can find a bathtub. Except for one fleeting moment, I’ve had only shower access for months. Strange.

3. Pamper my feet. This article explains how chipped nail polish is all in vogue. Apparently chipped toe polish is still faux pas. Here I go again, forging new trends without even knowing it.

4. Read an entire book. One whole book.

5. Find a rain storm to stand in the middle of.

6. Write.

7. Go on a serious bender.

8. Detox.

9. Light something on fire.

10. Abide.

On a film production, the office space is always in some dirty, janky hole. The wiring and computers are never quite ergonomically set-up, there are always some kind of little annoying hoops to jump through and we all just kind of deal with it because the nature of our jobs are reactionary and very temporary. I’ve battled sandstorms, critters, paint fumes, lack of windows and insane property owners in the past . . . here’s the list of annoyances and funny details about this particular place.

1. The Asbestos! There are notices pasted on the walls cautioning that any dust created here could release asbestos. Great! (I think you’re OK if you don’t lick the windowsills, but I’ve taped everything to my walls in lieu of thumb-tacking.)

2. Hot Water Heater and Cardboard box holding pen = same tiny closet. That’s smart.

3. The front door handle mysteriously broke yesterday. Great, one more thing. You can get inside, but you just can’t leave.

4. The lamp lights flicker (only in my windowless room) in tandem with the copy machine. Every day I have a seizure right around noon.

5. A family of hawks live on top of the building.

6. The upside down bathtub in the parking lot has been here for at least two years – left behind by a different film company.

7. Betty White is tired of your shit! It’s true. The sign in the women’s restroom says so.

8. The Indian sari that hangs on my office wall is a portal to another dimension. (Just checkin’ to see if you are paying attention.)

9. The carpet smells kinda funny from when the place had homeless squatters living here.

10. We have an infestation of palmetto bugs . . . in the water fountain.

I’ve been absent from the blog world for a week now. It’s that pesky ennui that’s raised it’s ugly head once again – this time a dichotomous cocktail combo of equal parts fuckitol, bliss and adrenaline – served up over copious amounts of cold beer.

I don’t really want to get into the details of the show I’m working on, mostly because I’m still working on it. But suffice to say we are a major motion picture with big name stars and the ‘studio’ we’re working with is consistently famous for not delivering their part of the bargain – the money – on time. And I work in accounting. So one could see the conflict of interest were I to divulge lots of sensitive info.

We’ve been shut down six times. SIX! Making a movie is like building a small city, starting from absolutely nothing but thin air and cranking out an infrastructure for a medium-sized metropolis in a matter of about five weeks. And to build it takes lots of human effort, resources, time and M-O-N-E-Y. Big money. Tracking the money required to make a movie is like being timed by the final countdown of a rocketship outside your bedroom window while juggling and trying to shove millions of dollars through a leaky pipeline the circumference of a garden hose all at the same time – and that’s just on a movie with no problems.

Half of my work day on this particular circus is spent quite literally chasing my tail . . . can’t track what’s not paid, can’t pay without money, can’t deliver estimates and reports when everything is starting, stopping and then lurching forward again – only to be cut off again because no one is getting paid. And let’s face it . . . all of us who’ve joined up with the circus that is filmmaking love it . . . but at the end of the bloody, sweaty, tear-filled day . . . we want our goddamned paychecks.

I’m just fried. My brain is kaput. I cannot even speak in coherent sentences these days. I even managed to forget that the summer solstice was June 20. It’s eat, work, work, work, beer, jager bombs, sleep (fitfully), coffee and how did I manage to turn all three fucking alarms off and not remember – again?

Not that I haven’t been party to many interesting episodes of hilarity, debauchery and good ole fashioned trouble, because with me, that’s an absolute given. Details forthcoming somehow . . . oh don’t ya’ll worry. I’m having a good time here, despite the grueling work schedule. I’m happy and laughing, making new friends and moving through life at warp speed.

But all of these high-highs and low-lows are causing my brain to process at the speed of X plus 2 = lettuce. Maybe it’s the seven days of work in a row. Maybe it’s angst inside me welling up because after this clusterf*ck ends, I’m not really sure where I’m going to live next. Yet somehow I feel extraordinarily free, like my arms are wide open and I’m standing in the middle of a field with a gentle breeze blowing and I’m breathing deep, deep breaths.

At the end of the day, I probably wouldn’t change any of this miracle that I’ve created for myself – it’s just that sometimes, the ability to speak/think escapes me.

I have a new office mate. It’s my friend Nick and we always have a good time when we share office space. On our last show, we got in trouble for “non-stop cackling” and “continued mention of specific body parts.” Every day around 4:30 or so, we’d get punchy and I’d start laughing so hard that I’d be either nearly pissing my pants or wiping tears off my face.

But we’re more than simply cackles and base body humor, we are observers of nature too.

Yesterday we decided to take a break outside and stood in the street near the front door to the production office and watched a hawk tear the flesh from a pigeon that he’d plucked out the sky just moments earlier.

The hawk sat on the roof directly above the production office doorway under the canopy of a tree in the golden evening sunlight. One spot of orange light shone through the dappled shadows of the leaves and hit him squarely on the breastbone, setting him aglow. Behind him, up the hill, the dome of the Columbia Capitol Building shone brilliant white against a solid wall of dark thunderstorm clouds. People noticed our craning necks and a small crowd began to gather.

“He doesn’t like to be watched.” Nick said to the people who joined us to see what we were staring at. They all left. But we didn’t. Eventually the bird became comfortable with our gaze and began to eat again.

Blood spattered the sidewalk. Sometimes a snap of flesh pulled from his beak. As he ripped flesh from feather, he shook his head, sending a steady trail of whirligigging pigeon feathers floating right past the office door. A man in a crisp suit walked right into and past one of them, completely unaware. People walked out the front door lurched over, wincing, as if expecting to be hit with bloody pigeon pieces. And for good reason, as that’s about the time that the hawk tossed a bit of entrails over the edge, scoring a direct hit inside the vestibule.

We watched for a very long time, but eventually left the bird to eat in peace. About ten minutes later the beginning of an evening of thunderstorms began with a boom. Water poured down in a deluge and the secretary came running into our office, beaming, and said, “Hey! The rain’s washing all the blood and guts away!”

That just struck us as funny, setting us off into laughter that escalated to cackles. We do that alot, really for no particular reason. Just about anything can set us off.

Every Friday in our office we have “Fancy Friday,” a day for finery.

Last Friday I jetted into work just having gotten off the set of a Lenny Kravitz video, obviously.

I keep lots of toys on my desk at work. That’s because I work in accounting. No one really wants to come into accounting. People don’t like math. People are scared of math. Hell, I’m frightened of fractions myself. I can’t do shit without my 10-key.

Paperwork makes most people’s brains shut down. And that . . . is why I keep things on my desk like little plastic frogs, a glowing bloodshot bouncing eyeball, a book called How To Lie With Statistics, and a little bulldog that pisses water. (The bulldog is for when people turn in crappy invoices – I squeeze; he pisses on the offensive bill.) And I love, love, love to force big manly teamster-type dudes to hold my light-up Winnie The Pooh pen in their greasy fingers when I need them to sign something. Fun stuff distracts and makes folks forget their belief that math is hard.

Yesterday, a stand-in came into the office to get a time card. She needed a pen. I told her, “Use my Winnie The Pooh pen.” And she left with it. I stormed out into the production office screaming, “Hey! Stop that stand-in! She bolted with my Winnie The Pooh light-up pen! Unacceptable!” Immediately the office PA took off in hot pursuit.

I got my pen back. Shew! I’m sure glad that we didn’t have to call the cops for any Pooh larceny.