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1-Finishing up a low-balled sound gig on a TV pilot where lots of thought and money went into nearly everything within the well-written and well-acted script by an accomplished and talented director except what equipment was necessary to get good sound. When the UPM wouldn't budge on price, I gave him a kit list of what I would bring for that price...2 channel recording, no TC, a boom and 2 G3 wireless kits, no camera hops, and when asked for options, I include the search for someone with a bigger kit who would work for what they're offering. I discuss the script with the UPM, explain the inherent limitations of a restricted kit, he doesn't know what the "free prototype"cameras will be, I forget to ask the shooting style, the producer OK's the kit list, and I find myself neck-deep in a "wide and tight" shoot, struggling to keep a mic on every actor, and the director, producer, and DP asking me questions about why I wasn't jamming TC, sending a scratch track, or wiring every actor. The producer and editor take me aside yesterday and tell me they've listened to the sound files, are extremely pleased, and tell me I'm doing "hero work" with just 2 channels. I of course consider everything I've read here and wonder If I've somehow fucked up by making it work for their shoot, knowing how much better It could have been with a little planning, communication, and not that much more gear, and sending them on their merry way to the next unconscious sound decision.(I read it here that "low-ball" gigs force you to record bad sound.) 2- I get so nervous wiring up a well-known actor whose work I've admired, that I pull his fucking chest hair with double tap in front of the entire crew... instantly crushing my mojo and putting him in a foul mood...humiliating. 3- I ask the 2nd AD to ask the "pregnant actor" if she is OK wearing a wire (I read the thread here and thought I'd give the option). When he asks "which one" I incredulously tell him the only actor here who looks like she's suffering from Kwashiorker. He comes back saying "of course". I later wire her up and during the process tell her that my girlfriend just found out that she's pregnant and that we're very excited. "Thats great" she beams and asks me many friendly questions. When I ask if this is her first, she replies "First what?" "First baby" I state with the now creeping and familiar mojo-crushing gravity from earlier. "Pregnant?...this is a prosthetic, I'm not pregnant" I am reminded sometimes of that "demotivational" poster with the bow of a half-sunken ship jutting out of the water with the motto... "It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to others." Be warned, Steven