Background Acting

Yesterday, I was on ER.

I don’t work a whole lot anymore–gotta leave time for writing!–but I do what I can. Truthfully, if I felt safe enough bringing my laptop, I could get stuff done while I’m on set, but batteries only last so long plus I’ve heard horror stories about people having stuff stolen. I don’t want to be a horror story!

I might write one, but I don’t want to be the heroine!!!!!

I do bring at least one notebook. Sometimes I noodle with writing and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I print out scenes or chapters and edit, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I have twelve hours of doing nothing and sometimes I have about five minutes. Every shoot is different.

Hollywood is a strange place and so is background acting. Yes, background acting is more like a place than a job. Extras are at the very bottom of the food chain–sometimes not even allowed near the food! [I’ve been on several sets like that] But I say place because it’s a certain frame of mind…a certain place you gotta be in if you’re going to do lots of background work and still retain your sanity.

You have to accept that: [in no particular order]

~You’re not important
~You’re not intelligent
~No matter what, you’re wrong
~You will be blamed for everything–literally everything–that goes wrong whether or not it has to do with background acting
~Some sets appreciate background, some hate background and there’s no way to know until something goes wrong
~The days are long
~The pay is low [non-union actors make minimum wage]
~You probably won’t be seen in the finished product
~It’s a lot of work for a different kind of reward than money or fame.

However, it is nice to not have any responsibilities and to be assumed stupid sometimes. Then, there are no expectations of brilliance and you can goof off without getting in trouble.

Personally, I do it for stories and characters. I never know who I’m going to meet or what I’m going to do. It’s all an adventure and I go into it hoping it’s fun rather than work… It’s usually fun. Usually.

Grandma’s Boy

It’s either called ‘Nana’s Boy’, ‘Mama’s Boy’ or ‘Grandma’s Boy’. I have no idea why it had three names or what name it’ll actually come out under. Adam Sandler produced it, but was not there. [which for me was kind of a good thing seeing as how years earlier while being a seatfiller, I tripped and landed in his lap…yes, my forehead, his hip]

I was a patron in a vegan restaurant. I wore very comfy, natural fabrics and my silly blue Indian slippers. This was one of the most comfortable costumes I’ve ever worn…except that my happy shoes gave me blisters, but I overlooked those because the experience was nice.

It was the last day of principle photography and a general happiness was in the air. I spent a lot of time in holding, reading a book that must not have been all that great because I genuinely don’t remember it. But when I went into the restaurant they’d set up and was seated next to the pan flute player, I started to enjoy the gig.

I was across from a fellow who was supposed to be a stand-in, but due to his spiky hair, piercings, tatoos and happy-gay attitude, they put him in the scene and gave him a nice lady for a date. My ‘date’ turned out to be a funky, short-haired chick-a-dee who came up with the idea that we were roomies…very close roomies. I soooo went along with it and we held hands through part of the scene.

The prop guy came by and gave us all pretty glasses and then a choice of drinks. There were some wild berry ones and fruity ones and I simply opted for water. That was the only liquid I knew I could drink on camera without the possibility of spitting it all over the wheatgrass centerpiece. Then, a plate of snap peas was set next to me.

I’d never eaten them before. I didn’t know how… Were they like edamame where you eat the beans, not the husk? Was I supposed to just dive on in and shove the whole pod in my mouth? Dammit, why did the plate have to land next to me? It made me nervous, but I didn’t say anything…yet.

We did the first take, pretending to eat our food and miming fabulous conversation with all four of us involved commenting on how delicious the food was and passing around the dish of snap peas–which I was thankful to hand over…except that my ‘roomie’ handed it back and no one else wanted peas. Oh the horror…the terrible plate of questionable food was now being commented about–with my roomie suggesting I try one! Good golly, I was terrified!

But just as I daintily picked one up, the word “CUT!” was shouted and I breathed a sigh of relief. The prop guy came back to refill a few drinks and add a couple more snap peas to the plate.

And then I met the star of the scene.

See, this movie has a million cameos. I was in one where the main characters go into this vegan restaurant, piss off the waiter and then leave without having eaten.

The waiter…David Spade.

He walked up to me and asked, “Are those real?”

I was a little more stunned than I would normally be when a principle actor actually speaks to an extra. Thankfully, my roomie was more attentive… “Yeah, they’re great. Try some!” She encouraged him by biting into a snap pea.

He was inquiring about the snap peas. What did you think he was asking about?!?!?

We all had a good laugh and I learned that snap peas could be eaten whole or just the peas. I also learned that David Spade really is great and is very easy to smile. I like that a lot in people.

During the next shot, the camera was going to be where my table was, so I went to holding…not the holding where my book was, but the holding right next to the set–where the producers had rented a chocolate fountain in early celebration of wrapping that night.

Yes…chocolate fountain…with strawberries, bananas, rice krispy treats, marshmallows and various other goodies ready to be dipped and eaten. Yum yum yum yum yum.

Another hour or two went by and then we all got to go home. I got paid to learn how to eat snap peas and dip yummies in chocolate. Now you understand why my blisters didn’t matter by the time I signed out.

7th Heaven

I was a suspect, a perpetrator and I absolutely loved it. I’d done a similar role on The Division at least a year ago and it was such a fun departure from my usual–extra-work-wise and personality-wise.

I misjudged traffic for getting all the way down to Culver City, so I ended up about an hour or so early. I was thankful I’d remembered my book…I read many chapters throughout the day.

Wardrobe had me change my shirt 4 times. I’d brought three shirts. The last change happened when she was doing her continuity shot of us suspects and discovered we were all in dark solid colors. The shirt I wore when I arrived was dark grey tie-dye, so she decided I should change back into it. She apologized and all, but I just thought the whole thing was funny. It seems that lately, I’ve spent more time changing than actually on screen. Weird.

Anyhow, this crew was amazingly nice and since they’ve been working together forever, shooting was at lightning speed. It was great to learn that they don’t do overtime. It’s a family show, so they stop on time so they can all go home to their families. –Way to practice what you preach, although overtime is where us extras make our money. Oh well. It’s nice not to have to be somewhere for 12 or more hours.

When us extras were herded near the set, I got picked to work in the first group. I was assigned to a police officer. It was her job to grab my arm and sorta push me past the principle actor’s desk. As we got toward the end of our journey, I turned around and sort of gave her a dirty look, which she replied with a good cop sneer. It was great. We did it the same every time. I had a lot of fun and kept reading my book in between shots. [BTW-I was reading Dime-Store Magic by Kelley Armstrong]

I sat out a few shots and then had one of those annoying background actor moments…

The AD told me to sit on a bench, count to 9 from Action and then get up, cross to the phone, pretend to make a call for another 9 or so and then go back and sit down.

All that sounded great to me. I listened for Action. I counted to 9. Then, when I lifted my ass from the bench, it made the nastiest creak I’ve heard in a long time. There was nothing I could do about it. I crossed to the phone. I did my business…and then realized that I’d have to sit down on the creaky bench again and was terrified. Thankfully, I made my call last long enough that I didn’t quite get my ass down onto the bench when I heard, “Cut!”

Whew!

But then I had to do it again and again and I couldn’t keep the bench from creaking. I tried leaning forward, going slower, going faster, but nothing worked. At that point, I figured that if the sound man heard me, I’d be told not to bother with the bench again.

Sure enough. The AD told me not to bother with sitting on the next take. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I hate being in a position where I might screw up a take. I’ve never done it solo. I’ve screwed up takes as a group, but never by myself…or at least not that I was sure it was me that ruined the whole darn thing.

All in all, I hope I get called back to work on that show. It was great. I wish more were like this one.

Brian Littrell

So, Jason and I went out to dinner with a friend of ours who’s visiting LA for a few days. Our friend suggested a restaurant on the Sunset Strip because he was staying near there and at dinner time, it’s easier for us to drive south to West Hollywood than for him to drive north up to where we are.

We get to the place and it was closed for renovation, but we were at Sunset Plaza and there’s whole bunch of restaurants to choose from. About four doors down was Cravings Cafe and…well I was craving food, so we got ourselves a table on the sidewalk. No big deal, we’re having fun catching up and talking about stuff that mostly went over my head, so I did a lot of smiling and nodding, pretending I had a clue while camoflaging my people-watching.

Then, as I look up from my snooty pizza, I think I see someone I might recognize. But who is this guy? He’s with a blonde princess who must be his wife, her sister (aside from matching, potentially-fake noses, they looked related) and his 2-or-so-year-old son (complete with Hotwheel car). My brain dismisses everyone but the guy and I’m trying not to stare, but the man’s good looking, so it’s really hard not to. He and his clan sit at the next table and it finally dawns on me.

I was eating dinner one table away from Brian Littrell of the Backstreet Boys.

Made sense…being there on the Sunset Strip and all. Most of the people in the place were dripping with designer clothes. But what was really strange is that the dinner wasn’t expensive. I mean, my pizza was $11.95 and I’m in the company of people who drove up in brand new Lamborghinis (we saw a total of three–two parked at the curb while we were eating). The addition of a celebrity sighting to the already surreal evening just made it into an adventure. ‘Course by this point, I was really wishing I’d changed out of my scruffy jeans and t-shirt into something at least a little more hip, but oh well.

Jason was, of course, oblivious…even when a gaggle of teeny-boppers interrupted Brian for photos and autographs. I dunno. I don’t think Jason would even recognize Julia Roberts if she were walking down the street, so whatever. Later, when Jason and I drove past in our Viper, I felt a little less out of place. And when I told him about Brian and how many designer labels I’d recognized, Jason shrugged, also wondering why the food was so damn good and not hardly expensive. If you’re ever in the area, I highly recommend Cravings Cafe. The food’s great and so is the people-watching!

Strong Medicine

This is a two-parter because in order to more fully explain my initial horror when I was on the pilot ‘Crazy‘, I need to explain my horror from when I was on Strong Medicine in May or so of 2003. I have never written it down. Yes, it was that traumatic and horrendous…at least for me anyway.

So, here we go…Strong Medicine…I was the worst extra on the planet.

You know those days when you just can’t do anything right? You try, you really do, but for some reason, the planets are completely misaligned and you just can’t pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. Well…that was me…

And I was all excited because it was shooting about fifteen minutes from my house. Short drive compared to the usual and therefore, I was hoping that I’d do such a smashing job that maybe they’d call me back or use me as a regular.

Well…The process of getting there, getting my voucher, getting into costume…all of it was normal. It wasn’t until us extras were herded from holding and brought to the set that trouble struck. I was playing a police station office worker.

Generally, that means a lot of ‘pick up these papers and these folders, go to the next desk, drop some off and pick up others, then work your way to the filing cabinet and set some in the inbox on top before heading down the hallway.’ No problem, right?

Well…My horror was started when the PA said she wished she had more extras to cover the whole office with lots of movement. I took this to mean that I should cover the whole office, moving like the ball in a pinball machine from bookcase to desk, to shelf, to file, to counter, to copier, wherever there was an empty spot. Normally, that’s what I do anyway if I’m not given specific instructions on where/when/how to cross.

However…This day happened to be the day when my memory was failing me. See, we all have to match our actions to every take. We have to hit the same marks at the same times on the actors same lines…and I was the worst extra ever. I couldn’t remember a damn thing from take to take.

Then…to make matters worse, the director throws us a curveball and when the lead actress shouts about her homosexuality, we’re all supposed to pay more attention to her than work…

But no one specified that we were supposed to literally stop and stare. So, there I was…the busy little bee, carrying and exchanging my paperwork all over the set…and I missed the cue completely! And not just once! I was so bad that the director came out from video village and mimicked me as an example of what NOT to do!

I was mortified…I still am. Hell, there was even one take where I didn’t know the camera was starting on me and I accidentally looked directly in it, immediately giving the ‘deer in headlights look’ and completely ruining that take.

I sucked. And I knew it! And it was awful! So awful that I never really told anyone about it because the experience was so traumatizing. I was terrible and what would have been a great gig–only 5 hours total and within spittin’ distance of home–turned into my greatest nightmare.

But I did learn what NEVER to do ever again. Truthfully, I was surprised I didn’t get thrown off the set for being so terrible. I was betting the director was thinking something like, “I hope I never see that one crappy extra ever again.”

That evening, I went home and I told Jason about it, but really held back the details. He laughed pretty hard. And at the time it wasn’t funny, but now I find it just as hilarious as traumatizing. And at least I can say that since then, I have always matched from take to take. My continuity has been spot on unless an AD has told me otherwise.

Crazy

Okay, now that I’ve explained my embarrassment on Strong Medicine, I can more effectively explain what happened on ‘Crazy’, a pilot with Lara Flynn Boyle.

I was a hooker!

I was supposed to be all drug addicted and really skeezy, but I didn’t exactly have ‘that’ kind of hooker wardrobe so I just brought what I had that I thought might work. I ended up in a one-armed zebra print tank top, leather skirt [zippers on both hips, of course] and my 5-inch, multi-buckle, fuck-me boots…which I’ve had for years, but never actually wore.

One of the PAs gave us this fantastic speech giving us the rundown of what the night looked like and who some of the crew people were. I remember thinking that was nice of him. He even described the director as being a very strong woman. [That should have been my first clue.]

I was the only hooker on the whole call. It felt a little bizarre, but at least I knew I wouldn’t be brawling with some other chick over whatever street corner…

The exterior police station shot just above Hollywood boulevard on Cherokee. If I remember correctly, they dressed up a bus station or something to look like a police station. Anyhow, there I was in my little hooker get-up, ready to do my absolute best. I was paired up with an officer who was supposedly taking me into the station.

But then the actress who plays Lara’s sister on the show was running her lines and stopped to talk to a couple officers behind me, then walked up to me and said, “Take care, Tanya. Be strong,” before continuing on to where Lara was standing.

Then, time stood still, the planets all stopped, everything ceased motion…The director came over to me and sorta did a double-take, but I knew EXACTLY who she was and instantly prayed she didn’t remember that crappy extra on Strong Medicine a few years back. I was mortified, but I kept it in check. And if she remembered me, she didn’t say anything other than, “Are there any other hookers on the call? She’s just not trashy enough.”

I took that as a compliment, of course!

Anyhow, for the record, I had zero idea that I’d have any kind of a ‘part’ in this thing, let alone a name. Good golly, was I thrilled and terrified all at the same time. I mean, the night was young, what if I turned into the world’s worst extra again? The horror! The terror!

So, instead of one cop walking me into the station, they made it look like I’d just gotten out. I had a plastic bag with my assorted purse crap and throughout each take, I transfered everything from the plastic bag to this wild purse that wardrobe gave me at the last second. All the while, I argued with two officers as though they wanted me to go away from the front of the station.

On a certain cue, I was instructed to walk out of the gated entrance and down the sidewalk into the street.

Oh, did I mention that there were a ton of Hollywood tourists standing across the street watching this whole thing? Yeah…Somewhere, there’s probably a tourist shot of my ass or something.

Anyway, when I walked to the street, my heels made too much noise. The sound man asked me to tiptoe. I showed him my boots, “I AM tiptoeing just to walk in these things.” He didn’t get it. No matter how I tried to explain it to him, he just didn’t understand, so on my next walk through frame, I did my best to tiptoe, but that not only made me walk funny, but a lot slower. One of the ADs came up to me and told me to go faster. I replied, “I can either walk fast and loud or slow and funny. Which would you prefer?” He looked at me strangely and just said, “Do your best.”

I did…

Then the car they were using overheated and we had to do a different part of the scene. But I did overhear someone saying, have anyone but the hooker walk through, anyone but her. I was thankful. My feet were killing me by that point.

That was pretty much the extent of the shoot. My favorite line of the evening other than all the times people said I didn’t look trashy enough to be a hooker, was when the director shouted, “Don’t get too close to the sex worker!!!!”

Some people sounded a little offended by that, but truthfully, with Jen’s help, aren’t we both sex workers?!?!

And I was really having a blast. It was a great night and one of the costume guys latched on to me and brought me my coat between takes. He was so sweet. Usually, no one cares about us extras. We get to freeze. But thanks to him, I never got cold.

So there you have it, my night as a Hollywood hooker named Tanya on the pilot for ‘Crazy’. I hope it actually airs.

American Dreams

I’m gonna combine three shoots into one this time. I was on American Dreams as a driver in Jason’s ’66 Corvette. Even though I knew I wouldn’t be seen walking around in frame, I still did my best to wear something that was period-correct for 1966.

Anyhow, I’ll do sort of highlights of each of the days… For the most part, the days were pretty run-of-the-mill except for these oddities.

The first day included 3 locations all around Sunset-Gower studios. And well, the Corvette’s pretty darn loud, so I don’t usually drive through frame much. I tell the PA’s and such, but they still don’t listen for some reason. I end up in the driving line to go through frame and then around the block. Usually, I only go through once before they pull me out. This time, I made it through 3 times before they told me to go park somewhere around the block.

I wait there for a few hours, watching all the other car people do their circles. But then, I realize that the cars haven’t circled in awhile and the ones that staged in front of me haven’t come around. Okay… That’s pretty strange… So I walk up and peer around the corner… Everyone was gone! They’d done a company move and forgot about me! Luckily, I recognized one guy who could tell me where to go so I hollered out to him, asking if he could help me. First he looked at me like I was insane, but then we both realized how funny the situation was.

He told me where to go for the next location and I lined up in that drive-through line, knowing full well I wouldn’t last more than one or two crosses through frame. Sure enough, after my second cross, the PA told me to go up to the parking structure and wait for the next shot.

I waited there with a bunch of other parked cars for a couple hours, wondering when either everyone else was supposed to show up or lunch break would be called. Well…lunch was called, but I’d missed it because I followed instructions. If I’d known I could’ve left the lot for lunch…well, dinner…it was about 4PM…first, I’d’ve done that. Anyhow, I had to settle for a couple bagels from craft service. But darn it all, without those, I swear I would’ve passed out.

The rest of the night went off just fine.

The next time I was on the show, I parked on the lot and they told me tonight’s scene was a rain scene. Ummm…the Corvette’s a convertible and the top doesn’t go up anymore. Thankfully, they put me in the back, away from the sprinklers that simulated the rain.

The only other oddity that night was that when I was heading out, one of the transpo guys asked what happened to my license plate. My license plate? Hmmm…I walked around the back of the car to discover that the plate was completely gone. I talked to the prop guys who’d put on a fake Pennsylvania plate and they said there was no plate on the car to begin with. I shrugged, then remembered a certain odd clanging noise when I was on the freeway, heading to the set. Yup, within the next few days I was at the DMV, buying Jason a new plate for his car. Ah well. Life’s an adventure.

The third time I was on the show was a two-day call in Pasadena.

I drove through the frame twice. On the second time, one of the Assistant Directors came running out of the building, waving her arms, yelling at the top of her lungs, “Shut that thing off!!! Shut off the Corvette!!!! NOW!!!!!!” I did as I was told and then just shook my head. It wasn’t the first time I was on the show, why the hell didn’t they remember that my car’s too loud to drive through the frame? I always asked before I started driving, too. Hell, the sound man probably wanted to throttle me by this point. Poor guy. I parked the car and hung out with a few of the other car people.

One guy in particular saw that there were antique stores near the set. Both of our cars were parked and likely wouldn’t be going anywhere for awhile, so we ran through one of the antique malls. Let me just say that it was so good, I brought Jason back there the following week. Yeah, I know I wasn’t supposed to leave the set, but darn-it-all, we knew we weren’t going to be needed for the twenty minutes we took to run through the shop.

Later on when both our cars were parked again, we headed down an alley that led behind a Maserati dealership. Both of us being car folk, naturally, we had to walk in and look. Well, the salesman was shuffling cars around and there, aimed out the back door, top down, engine running, was a metallic-midnight-blue Ferrari convertible. Let me just say that I have never been so tempted to steal a car in all my life. The back gate was wide open, too! Good-ness gracious me… What a sinful temptation.

Nothing else the rest of that day or the next was of any interest. Just more of the same sitting around, then moving my car from one side of the street to the other…all the while dreaming about jumping in that Ferrari and driving somewhere–anywhere in it!!!!!

Entourage (1)

I was on a new HBO show called ‘Entourage’. It’s literally that…a show that dramatizes what goes on in the entourage of a music recording artist. It’s got an ensemble cast, most of whom were there the day that I was. We shot at a club on the Sunset Strip called Shelter, but we parked near Sunset and Vine. Kind of a long shuttle ride, but I’ve certainly had longer.Anyhow, I’d gotten the booking late the night before and had to scramble to get everything together. Club wear. Very trendy. And Jason was also nice enough to hose off the Prowler because that car’s what actually got me on this call.

When I got to holding, about three long blocks away from Shelter, I was so glad to just drop all my bags, but then they almost immediately herded us to wardrobe where I nearly ended up in a very tight and very short purple dress, but the costumer loved my red with black, sorta alligator print pants, so all I needed was a shirt.

When the other costumer pulled out one of those metal mesh shiny shirts, I grimaced because I have one of those at home, but didn’t figure they’d let me wear it. Oh well. I surrendered my voucher and made a mental note that if I ever got on Entourage again that my sequin skin tight camouflage outfit, my metal mesh shirt, my little gold metallic dress, and my green fake alligator pants should be in my bag.

Thankfully I’d brought both a heavy jacket and a blanket. Holding was outside and since I didn’t have a back on that little shirt, I was freezing. I think the worst part about that shirt was that it only had two ties in the back holding it on. Nothing around my neck. The whole time, I truly felt like one good jiggle and the darn thing would fall down around my waist.

On set, I’d brought my blanket, which the costumers hated, fearing that I’d forget to take it off when the camera was rolling. I never forgot and they never stopped watching me, but once I’d warmed up, the blanket was really more so that I could pull up my darn shirt in a little bit of privacy before it fell off!!!!

My back might’ve made it on camera, but that’s about it. I recognized Debi Mazar, Kevin Dillon and Jeremy Piven.

During lunch, I figured I’d conduct an experiment in the bathroom… Testing my shirt. I bounced once and the darn thing really was around my waist!!!!!!! Words cannot describe how tight I tied that thing after I made that discovery. It was more like my little boobs were all that held the shirt up…yikes!!!!

Back on set, during a bit of down time, I overheard part of a conversation that sort of stuck with me. Now, I don’t know if I heard the whole thing and I also don’t know how much of it was a joke, but I do know that Jeremy Piven was talking to one of the production guys and the subject had to do with what was going on after the shoot.

I could’ve sworn I heard Jeremy Piven say that he was going to sleep at the club because the turnaround was so quick! My ears perked up and heard the production guy say something like, “You do what you have to do.” But I was being herded out of of the building and couldn’t hear any more of the conversation. Darn. That could’ve been something funny to put in a Hollywood Heat book somewhere.

Outside the club, I was sitting in the parking lot on one of those cement parking log thingies, while looking up at the giant billboard with Leonardo DiCaprio as The Aviator. When I looked below it, I happened to see Tobey Maguire walking up through the driveway of the club. I blinked. I did a double take. Yeah. What the hell was Tobey doing there? I dunno, but he walked up to a group of production people and started talking.

Weird, but okay… There was still much shooting to be done. I went back into the club shortly after Tobey went in. He hung out with Debi and the rest of the people watching the monitors for awhile. I ended up having to leave again because they supposedly wanted to use my car soon and I had to hop in a shuttle and go get it.

Once in my car, I put one of my spare shirts on over the silver mesh shirt…I was still very worried about it falling off! When I got to the set, everyone was very tired and very grumpy. Apparently all the cars booked for that night plus the hero Maserati were all silver. Doh! But my car was the silliest, so they placed me behind the Maserati out in the street and told me to wait a little bit.

I did.

Then all of the Production Assistants started running around and hollering something I couldn’t hear because I was too far away. Every PA was scattering and a bunch of extras were being herded. Then one of the PAs ran over to me hollering, “Are you Lisa?”

“Yeah…Why?” I asked curiously, somewhat terrified by the worry in the girl’s voice.

She waved her arms and talked into her radio. I had no clue what she said until she turned to me and told me to lock up my car and go get into one of the shuttles.

“Uh…Okay…” I did as I was told, still terrified, but okay with it.

The shuttle driver didn’t know what was going on either, but we somehow figured out that I was getting close to 16 hours on the set which means my rate goes through the roof for what’s called Golden Time. And that they were probably trying to hurry me over to checking out so they wouldn’t have to pay me that kind of money. I was totally okay with that and understood the whole concept.

But I still had wardrobe’s metal mesh shirt.

I was so thankful for the extra shirt I’d put on. The shuttle driver did think me a tad odd when I untied my metal shirt and dropped it out underneath. But hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And when I turned it in to wardrobe, she looked at me strangely, wondering what I was doing turning in my shirt all by myself. I told her I had no idea either.

Next, I tried to to go to holding where the signout line was, but once again, there was a PA hollering for me!!! I got thrown into yet another shuttle, still having no clue what was going on, why they wanted me back on set without having signed out. I was worried I’d have to go back to wardrobe and get the shirt again. Still terrified to be the background celebrity what with my name being hollered at every corner and all…

But when I got to the set, perhaps the one and only PA who wasn’t looking for me was the one who found me and together, we still had no idea why I was there, who was calling for me and what for.

Finally, the PA from earlier runs up to me and I ask her, “Please tell me what’s going on. I don’t care, I just want to know what’s up. No one’s telling me anything. I can’t do what you want me to do if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Sure enough…It was because I was close to Golden Time. She signed me out and I swore that was a fun little runaround that’ll likely show up in a book somewhere. It was insane, but fun all at the same time.

I went home very tired, but strangely fulfilled.

Over There

This was only an audition. I had zero hopes of getting on this show. I never get the stuff I audition for. Not that I’m complaining…I’m only telling the truth.

There were three of us women. It was the first day of shooting. One of us was going to be a soldier’s wife.

We waited around for what felt like an eternity but was only about an hour and a half–even got to hear the ‘This Is The First Day of Shooting’ lecture that the 1st AD inevitably gives. But were we going to be part of the family? Only one of us.

The 2nd AD took our pictures and joked with us.

Then we left.

I didn’t bother waiting by the phone…

It, of course, didn’t ring.

40-Year-Old Virgin

This’ll be the quickest entry…

I was booked.

I was cancelled.

My paycheck arrived in my mailbox.

I have to admit, though, that I’d’ve loved to be on this show. I think it would’ve been a blast. Oh well.

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