I tried…

I just scoured the first disk of the TV show Las Vegas to see if I could see myself. Nope. I did see the scene I was in, but I couldn’t find myself in order to grab a screen capture. Oh well. I tried…

Oh crap! I also haven’t written that one up… I should do that now… 

Monumental Undertaking…

The further I get into inventorying my wardrobe, the crazier stuff gets. But I know it’s all going to be worth it eventually. So far, it inspired me to grab the following pictures from their various locations so that I can post them here.

On the milder side of strange for me, but fun nonetheless.

I actually made this stretchy teal velvet get-up for the 1999 Grammys. I was a seatfiller and really didn’t have a formal dress in my wardrobe at the time, so rather than lament and pray I could find an appropriate dress in a thrift store, I made this outfit using $1-a-yard fabric.

I have no idea what the designer was thinking when he or she brought this creation alive. And even further no clue why someone bought it and held onto it for about fifteen years before I found it in a thrift store. In all honesty, I didn’t even know what it was when I pulled it from the rack and didn’t even look at it until I got home. It was just weird-looking and sort of sticking out, so I grabbed it, spent $4 on it and went home. You can imagine my surprise when I finally held up the skirt and shirt. Well, more WTF? than surprise! Now, it’s one of my most requested outfits and is the one get-up that I really have to get up nerve before I leave the house while wearing it because it not only stops traffic, it amazes, astounds and grosses it out!

I posted this as part of my Leeloo adventure, but still…a peacock jumsuit? WTF?

This dress is amazing. The picture kind of sucks. The back of this dress continues the cut out with only two clasps holding it together. I was initially going to remove the shoulder pads, but they’re so huge, the dress wouldn’t fit without them! And besides, wasn’t that part of the charm of 80s clothes?

Here’s the teal velvet thingie again. It took about 8 hours total to design and build. 2 hours for the shirt and pants, the rest went into the shawl. Initially, the shawl wasn’t included in the design, but since I fucked up the neckline of the shirt, I really didn’t have much choice but to cover it up. That’s part of the reason I put some of the remnants with the grain going one way and some with the grain reversed. I figured if I was going to be pieceing it together, I might as well really have some fun with it. But what a pain in the ass!!!! It has been almost a decade since I made this outfit and I still remember how hard it was to put together that shawl. However, this outfit does definitely stop traffic when I wear it, so the hardship was worth it.

This last one was my answer to a shirt and a dress that while I like the fabrics, I’d never wear either of them. Plus, the shirt was a little too big. So, I removed the zipper from the back of the dress and sewed it up. Cut it down the center of the front. Removed the eyelet collar from the dress and swapped it for the same shape, but made from the shirt. Removed the short eyelet sleeves from the dress and installed the sleeves from the shirt. Then, finally added the frogs I’d found at a little shop in Chinatown and voila! A coat I’d wear. And even better…a merge of two garments I wouldn’t wear into one that I totally do.

Shelfari…

I spend much of my time gazing off into space above my computer screen. When my eyes focus, they read the spines of several books, so I figured why not spend a few minutes and open up a Shelfari account. Plus, if I have them all up there and need to refresh my memory about whether or not I have a particular book, I can just do a search of my Shelfari shelf to find out if I should waste my time digging or just buy a new copy.

It’s kind of a fun way to get to know people, too. It’s like whenever I’m at someone’s house and I find myself next to a bookshelf, I gotta read what’s there just to see what kind of stuff the person’s interested in.

Right now, all I have are books that I’ve written whether solo or as Ashleigh Raine and about a quarter of the ones I can see over my computer screen. It’s the non-fiction section, but I suppose that does say a lot about my interests since I read more non-fiction than anything else. Mostly Medieval and Celtic, too… I couldn’t see all the ghost story books or the tarot and divination ones. Also, the books are double-deep. It’s gonna be awhile before I get everything posted.

I’m actually surprised how fun it was. I suppose as I dig through the mountain and realize just how monumental an undertaking it really is, I’ll change my mind on all that supposed fun. But hey, in the mean time, it brings me joy, so why not?

Yay! Driven To Distraction is available for pre-order!

Dodging explosions, crashing cars, jumping off rooftops…and falling in love.

Sometimes it’s the little things, but y’know, I’m excited nonetheless.

Driven To Distraction by Ashleigh Raine (I’m half of the writing team) is now available for pre-order at Amazon.com!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Hollywood Heat Novel

Up-and-coming stuntwoman Blaina Triton stops to help a sexy stranded stranger on the side of the road. Passion ignites hotter than the asphalt beneath their feet and they go back to his place for an anonymous carnal romp. Days later, she arrives on the set of her next feature film only to discover that the man she played out wanton erotic fantasies with is also her boss, Jay Williams. She thinks this job just got a whole lot better, until Jay makes it clear he never mixes business with pleasure.

Jay knows firsthand how distraction can be fatal, but around Blaina, his full, lust-ridden attention strays to her rather than staying on the job. In an effort to regain control, he offers an ultimatum—off set, their relationship is no-naughty-holds-barred, but on set, when they touch, it has to be strictly professional.

Soon their clandestine rendezvous ignite as hot as the movie’s onscreen explosions. As an unstoppable stunt team they are flawless, until the strain of their secret relationship begins to tear them apart. Jay has to make a decision. Walk away from the woman he loves, or allow himself to be driven to distraction…

Warning, this title contains the following: Jay and Blaina are imaginative in their proclivities. There’s lots of sex in, on and around cars. Sex in public places, sex in a hotel room, masturbation, exhibitionism, oral sex, anal sex, spanking, minor bondage of the tie-me-up-and-have-your-wicked-way-with-me kind and sex with a foreign object.

BUY EBOOK
EXCERPT: Roadside Attraction
EXCERPT: Garage Rendezvous
EXCERPT: After Race Romp

Havoc Update

A few weeks back, Southern California was on fire again which reminded me of 2003 when the fire came up to my back fence. This time around, I was choked by smoke, but the fires weren’t putting my house in danger. I had a scare on one of the days, but that was only enough to make me gather a few things and start an official pile that if conditions worsened, would be loaded into my cars before I drove them down the hill to safety. But conditions didn’t escalate far enough to necessitate doing any more than that this year.

However, it did make me think back to 2003 and how I worked on a movie during the nights I was evacuated and I wondered if I actually got some screen time. I was on Havoc a total of three times. I only wrote up the time I got a flat tire on the way to the set and the fire.

That third time somehow slipped from my radar. It happened roundabout today in 2003. It was my first gig as a body double. In the finished product, that’s not Shiri Appleby sitting on the Impala in that parking lot next to the Santa Monica pier, that’s me.

As for the other nights, I couldn’t find myself in any of the footage from the night I learned how to buy drugs. I recalled part of that shoot involved the cop cars skidding around the corner, but I’m just barely out of frame on the sidewalk. Oh well.

I was, however, visible while I ‘ho’ed it up. Yep! The night I was evacuated because my house was threatened by fire, I was playing a hooker on a movie set! And having a damn good time of it, too, I might add. I mean, why not? I’m not the kind of person who freaks out and shies away from a good challenge like starting over completely. Yeah, it’d really suck and yeah, I’d hate it, but no lamentation or hatred could make that problem go away, only a whole lot of bucking up and acceptance of the uncontrollability of the circumstances which in turn would give me enough control of my situation as a whole in order to get the necessary work done to get on with my life. I’ve already survived a few large life alterations. I know I can do it again if I need to.

So, I ‘ho’ed it up without regret! This was mid-‘ho’ while crossing the street…

And this was shortly after ‘ho’-ing on the sidewalk…

What a night!!!!!!

Because it’s Friday…

I’m gonna do something I don’t normally do and post a video that I found on YouTube. I don’t recall the exact surfing path I used to get there, but hey, that’s the fun of the internet, right? Anyway, I found this particularly amazing and astounding and wonder if there are contemporary acts out there which are similar to this 1933 piece featuring Ben Dova atop a skyscraper in New York City doing acrobatics without wires, a net, etc…

I love Fridays. I dunno why. Time for some more tea.

Big Shots

You see the long Tales from Hollywood list of gigs I’ve been on, so it’s pretty safe to assume that I’ve had quite a variety of experiences…some of which I still have yet to write up!

But on this show, I had two firsts. The WGA was picketing across the street, making loud noises–whistling, yelling, bullhorn–so nothing could get filmed, even going so far as using mirrors to shine light in places it doesn’t belong–actor’s eyes included. We were on location for goodness sake. I’m all for getting writer’s paid, of course, but this just seemed stupid. Why not go somewhere that’ll get more attention than a dark street in downtown LA? I just didn’t get it.

Plus, we were shooting a script that had already been written. Under the contract signed at the time of purchase, won’t the script we were shooting still make the writers money? Why would they try to stop that from happening? I just didn’t get that either. I fully admit I don’t know all the details surrounding the strike, but there, in the trenches, halting production seemed stupid. And let’s not forget all the crew people who are going to be fighting for work, too. Not to mention extras like me… But hey, this isn’t my only talent, so if work dries up for awhile, I only hope it’s temporary because I do enjoy it and would miss it if it disappeared completely.

All right, enough about that and on to the other first…

A telephone call summoned me from my shower, informing me that the call time had been pushed one hour earlier. Well, I live pretty far from downtown LA during rush hour, so that meant I had to H-U-S-T-L-E to get ready and get out the door in order to even have a chance at making it to the set on time. I somehow got there with 10 minutes to spare.

There were only 4 of us on this particular part of the call. We all found each other at the catering tables at base camp. Oddly, no one from production did. We sat there for 3 hours until the production broke for lunch. No one came to look for us, no one called us to scream, “Where are you? You’re supposed to be on set right now!” Nothing. I’ve been on a few sets where we show up, get our vouchers and then sit for 6 hours, but this was a first. I’ve never been on a set for that long without having a voucher. Granted, I was only at base camp, but it was oddly disconcerting. I don’t even know how to describe the feeling. It was just plain eerie, odd, weird, all those kind of adjectives.

I mean, it wasn’t like I felt that I was in the wrong place. It was more that I sort of needed confirmation that I was in the right place, doing what I was supposed to be doing. As an extra, I get yelled at a lot for doing the wrong thing whether or not I was instructed what was considered right or wrong. Generally, it’s considered wrong to hang out at catering without a voucher. I guess that was the root of it. I didn’t want to get in trouble for being there even though I was supposed to be there. And only a voucher can confirm that I was supposed to be there.

After production broke for lunch, we were given our precious vouchers and told to go to wardrobe. I was a crazy psyche patient. I got squared away and then sent to the real holding which was down the street. That was another odd thing…usually, there’s other extras hanging around, so you know you’re in the right place. Well, we knew there were other extras on the call for the scenes before ours, but where the hell was holding? Once I was in the old bank building with the rest of the extras, I felt much better.

So did the other three of us. We all remarked about how weird it had been to not have vouchers and be separate from the rest of the call after having our call time pushed earlier. Anyway…

I sat in holding for a few more hours, I think, while they finished up on the street scene that I wasn’t part of. After that, I was summoned to the indoor psyche ward set. I was seated at a table with a game of dominoes laid out, but I chose to put one foot up in front of me and the other on the chair next to me. That foot on the chair may be the only bit of me to make it into the finished product if any of me makes it at all. From the moment I was placed near a bunch of lighting fixtures that definitely weren’t going to be in the shot, I knew today wasn’t my day for camera time.

No big deal. It’s just more fun to actually make it into the finished product when I’m playing odd characters like a recovering nymphomaniac in Domino, an alien in They Are Among Us or a dead nun in Angel. I get odd roles so infrequently that I really cherish them because they make for great conversation pieces later on. I’m pretty shy, but if I hear a conversation about Angel for instance, I’m not afraid to say, “I played a dead nun in the opening scene of the 100th episode of Angel.” And if people don’t believe me, I can whip out my iPhone and navigate to this site for visual proof.

Which reminds me, I still need to get screen captures from Domino…

Anyway (A Tale of tangents today for some reason!), I worked in the scene for an hour or so, but wasn’t in any of the turnarounds and ended up back in holding.

The highest point of this adventure was when I looked up from my dominoes between set-ups and my gaze met Dylan McDermott’s for a tiny smile. That was nice…really, really nice.

I gotta laugh…

So, I had this wonderful blog post all thought out and ready to go. I’d noodled out some notes and everything. Now, I can’t find my notes and while that normally wouldn’t be much of a problem, apparently with this particular post, I did one of those open-cranium, bleed-thoughts, promptly-forget-everything-because-it’s-all-on-the-napkin sort of things.

I betcha it was sheer brilliance on that napkin. Uh huh. Oh yeah. And then I probably used it to wipe up after lunch. Nice.

But I’m sure that happens to everyone, so I’ll do my best to get on with what I was going to post about…well, some of it, anyway.

The main part of the post was going to be a little more on Leeloo and the can-can dress I made. But, while I snapped a few shots of the stockings I was going to describe, I didn’t actually upload them, so there’s nothing I can do about that part of the post. I’m not using the computer right now where those currently reside, so the Leeloo stockings are just gonna hafta wait a little bit.

Another part of the post is about yoga. I’d gotten busy and had gone to maybe three classes over the last five months where generally, I go to three or four classes per week–sometimes more. But yesterday, I realized I had some time to spare and was coincidentally wondering where one of my favorite teachers went after she left the studio I’d been going to… So I Googled her name.

And discovered that she’d opened her own studio about five minutes from my house!!!!!! Yippie yippie yay!!!! And I love the name of it: Just Breathe Yoga Studio. Part of my joy toward the name comes from the Drew Barrymore movie Ever After which I so adore. Danielle says, “Just breathe” when she arrives at the masque and that line has stuck with me. The rest of the joy comes from what is actually going through my mind while I’m in handstand or candlestick or some days even triangle or warrior 2. It’s amazing how just about anything gets easier when you Just Breathe.

So, I’m back in regular yoga practice and feeling better already.

The rest of the post was about something sort of odd that I’ve always wanted to do, but I’m almost afraid to admit the real numbers… I’ve started photographing my entire wardrobe and am posting the images to Flickr so that it’s searchable when I’m mid-bargain-hunting and can’t remember whether my pair of 80s, pointy black pumps are leather or suede. Recently, I’ve found great deals at thrift stores and then once I got them home, had to immediately re-donate because I already own something similar to what I bought.

Through this inventorying process, I also end up with total amounts of things I have and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. For instance, I now know I own 105 purses. And while when I’m trying to find one to match an outfit, I feel like that’s too few and I never have quite the right one, I also know that that’s a lot of freakin’ purses, so I’m gonna hafta cull. The hard part is figuring out where to start.

Now, I’m going to make myself another cup of tea–probably some sort of oolong–and ponder which of my 257 pairs of shoes needs to be re-donated. I know, I know, that’s a lot of freakin’ shoes, too, but the scary thing is that the only ones that I seem to have collected similar pairs of are rubber-soled, beige leather, lace-up shoes from the 70s. I have 5 that are similar. WTF?!?!?! I would’ve expected to see more black flats from the 80s, but I’ve only got 3 of those. The rest are reasonably unique and therefore difficult to part with.

I’ve only just begun photographing garments. I’m sure I’ll post highlights here as I get up the nerve. Some I own solely to amaze and astound guests when they come over for parties. Seriously. Friends request certain outfits sometimes…and New Year’s has been legendary because I change outfits several times throughout the event. Other than Halloween, there are very few times I can wear a pink herringbone polyester pantsuit or white M.C. Hammer pants with a matching half-shirt. And even fewer times those outfits would be requested of me. But I have them. And I’m not afraid to wear them.

In fact, just the other day I wore a gray and beige large herringbone, polyester pantsuit–complete with one of the largest butterfly collars I own!–to the grocery store with Jason. I’m not convinced he was amused by my outfit, but he was definitely amused by the odd looks I was getting. I, of course, remained oblivious.

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