The reality of relocation (and adulthood) is that you are required to pay for things, like rent and electricity.  It’s stupid.  I found a job in Los Angeles, but due to the economy and lack of real full time work, I had to settle for a part time gig.  So on off days, I decided to try my hand at stardom.  So, I signed up to be a “background actor” a.k.a. an “extra.”

Okay, so stardom is a slight exaggeration.  BUT I am queen of walking from tree to mailbox and the like.  And it’s fun.  And the long hours required to make a movie or TV show almost automatically means I’ll get overtime.  Which I can’t turn down.

But I thought I would make a run down of my observations that I have noticed over the course of a month or so.

[UPDATE: as I write this, it's become more of a how to list, so let's run with that, shall we]

1. Pick a friend. It’s going to be an eight, twelve, or sixteen hour day. Yeah, you can take a book or some other entertainment, but realistically, less and less productions allow things like iPhones and iPods on set and you spend a lot of time away from the holding area where your book et al lives, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to.

2. Pick your friend wisely. I’ve learned that they literally let anyone be an extra, including the weirdest, craziest people on the planet.   It’s going to be an eight, twelve, sixteen hour day.  The last thing you want is the weird bag lady, or worse, the 18 year old diva who things she’s a star to be following you around all day.

3. Bring entertainment that takes up no space and uses little brain cells. I touched  on this above, but you need a way to fill the loads of downtime you have.  When you are not on set, you are in “holding,” which usually translates to a miscellaneous space with some folding chairs.  Because it’s probably the one place the production doesn’t need, there usually isn’t a lot of space and there are a normally a lot of bodies to cram in, so bring something small.  If it’s small enough to fit in your pocket, you can tote it to set too.  Also, you’ll have to drop whatever you’re doing at a moments notice and inevitably people strike up conversation.  I suggest a pass time that doesn’t require a stopping point – like a book – and something you can do while chatting to the people around you.  I met a girl who has taken up knitting for this very reason.

4. Enjoy Craft Services but make sure it’s for the Extras. Craft Services is fun.  What part about free all you-can-eat food isn’t?  But sometimes productions separate background crafty and crew/talent crafty.  My theory this is because Extras are toddler ants at a picnic.  They crawl all over everything trying to consume it and leave a mess.  Rule of thumb:  brand name sodas and chocolate bars are for the crew and cast.  Normally Background gets pretzels and coffee.  Though sometimes, Craft Services has a wonderful spread open for all.  Just make sure.  Someone will yell at you if you’re wrong.  Which is just embarrassing.

5. You are not an actor. Not today.  You might want to be one in the future or you are one on your days where you are not working as an extra.  But today, you and I are walking from lamp post to tree, nothing more than that.  This means, please don’t ask the Assistant Director your motivation in the scene and PLEASE do not bore me with your pretention.  It’s going to be a long day regardless and I just don’t need that.

6. Extra work is not rocket surgery, but it is a job, so take it seriously. Follow instructions.  This means from the moment you receive that email about times and wardrobe, follow it.  Don’t bring things that are specifically forbidden.  So many people disregard wardrobe instructions and just show up with whatever suits them.  And then once on set, shut up and listen.  Don’t make jokes when announcements are being made or try to smuggle your phone places.  You might be here because you think it’s cool to be near Brad Pitt or Cobie Smulders, but some of us need this to pay bills, so don’t make it harder on everyone else by being a jackass.

7. Be first in line. You will have to line up on at least three different occasions; to check in, wardrobe approval, and to check out. The first two come when you first arrive on set and the latter, obviously, comes at the end.  Feel when these lines are about to happen and inch towards the person making the announcement.  Just jump in.  Get there. Push people.  Trust me, in a 200 person call, there is no room to be polite or cool.  Trust me, you won’t regret this one.

8. Bring a pen. Communal pens are scarce, even mythical.  And you will be filling out various forms, the very least your pay voucher, so bring a pen.  Sometimes they’ll provide a couple but they glare if you have the gumption to use them.

So, follow those rules and you’ll live to background talent another day.  If you don’t, you probably will too, but you’ll just annoy the crap out of me in the meantime.

Tags: actor work, background actor, being an extra, living in LA

Women are still not paid as much as men in a majority of fields and professions.  There are more and more women in the work force these days, and more and more lady bosses.  Barriers are still being broken through, which is A+ for forward movement, but less so for the fact that those barriers still exist.  ¹

Equality.  All the way around.  No one is better than the other.

Except.  Jars are really hard to open.  My hands just aren’t big enough to get around the massive lids and I can’t get the leverage to turn them.  I can carry the giant boxes around the room, but why should I have to when I can just yell “Boy!  Help me.”  I know I can learn to be handy, but why should I have to when many boys already seem to be.

Being raised from in the south, I’m really into men with manners.  I like having my doors opened for me and to be stood up for when I come to/leave from a table.  Should these traditions be thrown by the wayside just because times are changing and moving forward?

Is feminism the death of chivalry?

Also, cockroaches are gross.

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Tags: feminism, gender equality, jars, lifting heavy things

The days of individual thought are rapidly waning.  That’s no surprise.  With the appearance of the internet, mass consensus got infinitely easier to spread because a person could find their opinion easily through the click of a mouse button.

I’ve discovered that my own lack of individual insight has reached a new level.  Forming my own opinion has just become too hard.

Every medical drama, if it runs long enough, will tackle the all time favorite dilemma, euthanasia. It goes something like this:  Charming doctor is against assisted suicide.  Charming and wise dying patient asks for it.  Charming doctor says no way.  Charming and wise dying patient is charming and wise. Charming doctor battles his feelings.  Charming doctor kills charming and wise patient with morphine.  It’s thought provoking and wants you to think about the grey areas in life.   I fall for it every time.  And it’s just too hard.   My recent experience happened a few weeks ago, and it was not going to get met this time, it’s just too hard:  Killing is wrong, but that patient just wants to die, and he’s so charming.  And wise!  So, I turn to Aneeta, my intelligent better-half and asked,

“What is our opinion on euthanasia?  Yay or nay?”

She told me to turn around and stop bothering her will silly questions while her stories are on.

Today, on Facebook, when faced with a witty status update, I didn’t even bother to come up with an equally clever retort.  Hell, I didn’t even settle for an earnest reply.  Nope.  I just clicked the “like” button.  Life’s answer to “I want to acknowledge that you spoke, but it’s too much effort to come up with a reply.”

In fact, thinking about it, I’ve noticed I’ve lifted the idea of “liking” things to the real world.  Being that my attention span has started to really like the “Gen Y” mentality of ADD and “multitasking” ¹ I find it hard to stay engaged enough to form my own opinion.  So “like” it is.  Sometimes if I’m very adamantly against something, but am equally as lazy, I’ll mix it up with “dislike.”

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Tags: euthanasia, facebook, Like Button

English is an interesting language and not only that, it’s constantly evovling, which adds to it’s interesting-ness (however making things a tad more confusing).  Words aren’t the same as they used to be, they change drastically responding fluidly to modern connotation. Such evolution and changes are barely noticed by the average speaker, it’s far too subtle for that.  I’m not referring to slang here, that’s a whole other kettle of fish, yo.  Okay, I guess I’m talking a little bit about slang, but not in the Snoop-Dogg-adds-”izzle’s”  kind of way, but modern adapations of things kind of way.

I shall now highlight some examples to clarify what the heck I’m going on about.

Retarded

Today, this is a pejorative term for mentally handicapped individuals, though, at one time the politically correct one, imagine that.  More commonly though, it’s used to reference how someone of “normal” mental faculties are acting like said mentally handicapped individuals.

Actually “retarded” isn’t  a medical term in the slightest, not even in a layman’s world.  It means:

to make slow; delay the development or progress of (anaction, process, etc.); hinder or impede.

Someone who is mentally handicapped might actually be so due to retarded development in their brain.  Hence…

Though no one uses it like this anymore.   I guess it carries too much controversy.

Layman

(since it’s come up already, might as well dive in)

These days we use this when advising someone smarter than ourselves to talk slower and use smaller words.  AKA “In layman’s terms.”

Now meaning someone not part of a given profession, the word has it’s origins in the church.  A “layman” refers to:

a person who is not a member of the clergy; one of the laity.

So most basically, someone who isn’t a priest.  Commonly, this was someone who would often participate in the liturgy, but didn’t have the special privileges awarded to one who is ordained.  Someone from the congregation, perhaps.  They could serve communion but not bless the bread and wine.

Grotesque

Ew.  Yucky.  Disgusting.  Strange. Vulgar.  Usually said by pretentious people.  Or those who want to sound more intelligent.

In actuality, being “grotesque” has nothing to do with being “gross,”  to which it seems to be interchangeable.

Originally it referred to a particular style of exaggerated Roman art, but perhaps we don’t have to quite that far on this definition.  The word is still fairly common in the arts world, such as theatre or visual art.   “Grotesque” is intended to inspire a feeling of the bizarre.  Highly exaggerated figures and characters might evoke this feeling.  Possibly defined as:

— adj
1.	strangely or fantastically distorted; bizarre: a grotesquereflection in the mirror
2.	of or characteristic of the grotesque in art
3.	absurdly incongruous; in a ludicrous context: a grotesque turnof phrase

I can think of many other words like, but I think you get the point for now.

I guess I don’t really have any analysis of the above terms.  I just think it’s a cool thing that has happened.  And something largely taken for granted.
Tata for now, gentle readers

Tags: English, evolution of english, grotesque, layman, retarded

People like to boil things down to simple statements.  It’s not to make things more accurate, just easier to deal with.  There’s something about “boiling something down” to easy generalizations that just seems easier to handle than having a real conversation.  And that’s just lazy.

Allow me to explain with some personal contextual examples:

Because you’re American…

In Australia, there seems to be a huge fascination with British comedy, namely, the television.  For example there’s Black Books, Black Adder, The IT Crowd, Little Britain, and the list goes on.  It borders on phenomenon; it’s everywhere.  I understand the potential for myself oversimplifying the following, so I’ll be careful.  Personally, I take British comedy on a case by case basis, as I try to do on most of things, but I find as a general rule, it’s not my cuppa’ tea. If I had a dollar coin every time I heard the uttered phrase “it’s because you’re American,” in way of justification for my disinterest, I’d be a very rich yank. ¹

Because I’m American.  What does that even mean?  Do these people think I still hold a grudge from the time the Brits over-taxed colonial tea?  How does my country of birth have anything to do with what television I like? “Because Americans don’t get witty humour,” ² they say. Are you serious?  I love intelligence and clever turns of phrases.  My problem with British TV shows usually seems to be the exact opposite of this statement.  I find most of the humor juvenile, uninspired, overworked, obvious, and forced.  That’s why I don’t watch a lot of British comedy series’, not because of my American pride.

There are ones that I do get tickled by and so you don’t think this is just a crusade against the Brits or Aussies, allow another example.

Because you’re a lesbian…

Did you know I often don’t admit that I like Ellen Degeneres to people I’m not close to?  This is because an overwhelming reaction to this is that we share a similar sexual orientation thus we must be in cahoots with one another.  Like, I have an undying loyalty to her and she is our leader, or something.  Nevermind that she’s hilarious, insightful, and very observant of human nature.  Nevermind that millions and millions tune into her show daily, many of who identify “straight.”  The reason I must find her humorous is because she’s a big honkin’ lesbo.

Similarly, I used to want to be a carpenter and I have short hair and I have a tendency to purchase a lot of vests.  This is clearly due to my love of the ladies.

A)  I’m pretty creative and I seem to be pretty good with a circular saw.  It’s just something I have a knack for, so in high school/college when the idea of becoming an accountant or scientist seemed far beyond my skill set, I considered looking into a field that might be interesting.

B) I find long hair generic.  A lot of girls just grow there hair out long and then they start to blend in with everyone else.  Some of it’s beautiful and I have had long hair in the past, but there’s just something slightly edgier to short hair.  And to dispel a false rumor, short hair is feminine.

C) Vests are cool.  Everyone should recognize this fact right now.

It doesn’t matter though. People are going to continue doing what they do, because that’s what people do.  Yes, that’s right, I said it.  People do. Things.  Anyway. Oversimplification leads to stereotyping and stereotyping leads to close-mindedness and close-mindedness leads to hate and hate leads to… the dark side?  You get what I’m saying though, right?

So, take my advice and when someone tells you something, don’t just write it off with the easiest possible answer you can think.  Have an actual conversation, find out the real reason people are the way they are. You might just learn something.

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Tags: because you're a lesbian, because you're american, oversimplification, stereotyping

People don’t want to be who they are. They want to be someone else.  This is something I began to ponder during a discussion with the girl who cuts my hair about how Asians like to perm their hair so it’s curly.  The irony was not lost on me that I was into hour two of the ritual where I chemically butcher my Shirly-Temple-rivaling locks into flat, well-behaved wonderfullness.  My curly hair has been the bane of my existence for as long as I can remember. I’ve come to accept my mop-top as I’ve entered adulthood, but what I really want is straight, craftable hair.  So, I spend money that I don’t really have every six to eight weeks in order to get what I want.

That’s the thing; people don’t want what they’re given, by god or genetics or Aqua-Buddha, but something “better.”  (Better by who’s standards, I’m no sure.)  Hair perms, nose jobs, boob jobs, sex changes — race changes!  The list is endless and on varying scales of grandeur.  I read a lot about societal pressures, but what does that really mean in the scheme of things?  Society came from somewhere – it didn’t just burst out of thin air – and mostly, I think that “somewhere” is human beings.

It’s human nature to want to conform to some other mold.  For some reason.  Maybe there’s some survival instinct origins buried under it all.  Me?  I’m good(ish) at a number of things, but what do I really want?  To be a “savant.” What could be cooler than being a prodigy at music or art or math or breakdancing? But I’m not one. That ship has sailed.  I can practice really hard to get good at playing the piano or computer programming but the best I will be is just another adult who knows how to do stuff. I’ve come to accept that I’m never going to be applauded for my extraordinary natural talents.  I make up for it by straightening my curls and living in a country not all South Carolinians have heard of. ¹

I think it must have to do with thinking changing oneself with make a person special.  Celebrities have good noses and rich people must be inherently good at something.  Maybe it’s about the American dream; not being who you actually are, but who you want to be.  I mean, surely just because I’m in Australia, doesn’t mean they don’t have some similar equivalent theory.  The Australian Dream, perhaps. They are human. Mostly.

I’m starting to ramble here, so maybe I should probably wrap this up.

Conclusion: People like to delude themselves into thinking “different” equals “better.”  Surely being different than what I naturally am inclined to be will make me a better human, thus more happy.  Mostly, I think “different” is just another way of doing things.  I love my hair straight, but deep down, I’m just Carrie and it probably doesn’t make a damn difference on the attractive scale.  It’s just…different

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Tags: different not better, self image

This week, articles around the UK and the rest of the world hit stands — and webpages — that the Queen herself has gotten a Facebook account. It details that though she now is on the most popular social networking site on the interwebs, certain decorum will still be followed.  It seems that actions like poking and tagging drunken photos are out of the question as Her Majesty ¹ plans to use the page as a way to post updates and news about the Monarchical Family and Royal Etcetera.

I don’t buy it.  Not that she has an account, I believe that part, but  I don’t really understand the new, wide sweeping notion that Facebook is a legitimate form of advertising and promotion.  Facebook is just….Facebook.  And I like it that way.  The following are the top five REAL reasons to get a Facebook account.  Okay, so it’s my top five reasons for having Facebook, but I think they might be a little bit more universal that people are willing to admit to themselves.

1. To show off my new haircut. Because let’s face it, I’m a vain insecurity who needs constant praise and reassurance.
2. To make quasi-witty insights about the universe in my status update to prompt people to say “wow, how wittingly insightful, she is awesome.”  In actuality, I probably probably poached the idea from a celebrity twitter account or a standup comedian.
3. To stalk people who made fun of me in school. Teen flicks assured me there would be karmic retribution that would make my attackers balding, fat, and unsuccessful.  I check on this weekly. It has yet to happen.  Those mutha-effers keep getting more cool.
4. To openly judge those who play stupid simulator games ² because of their pointlessness. But, (not so) secretly I play them myself.
5. To find old photos of myself. Though there have been leaps and bounds in digital photography, there is still a solution gap of where to store the snapshots.  Some are on one computer, some are on my laptop, some are scattered over sixteen memory cards, and three are printed out. However, I know there’s always in one place my embarrassing life moments will be stored forever: Facebook.

Take that your majesty.

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Tags: facebook, uses of facebook

I love nothing more than a musical montage to a upbeat song, preferably from the ’80s or ’90s.

The following is an exceptionally well edited montage of film dancing to “Footloose.”  It’s pretty damn entertaining, and who ever did it should quit their day job and start emailing MTV or some post production houses.  The timing and choices are spot on.

I wonder what it is about a good montage that makes me so happy. I mean, song choice is essential, but I think it might have something to do with the inherent narrative that squeaks through, whether it be embedded in a movie or just a YouTube clip.

Tags: dance montage, dancing, footloose, movie montages

My parents got divorced when I was twenty, so truly, I didn’t really get the experience of “split custody” like so many children have the pleasure of having to go through.  I do, however, like to dramatically blurt “I come from a broken home” wherever possible.  Ask my parents, the do love that one so, I know this because of the eye roll that I’m given in direct response.

The best feeling I ever experience is when someone laughs at one of my jokes. It has something to do with the eg0-stroking that comes with.  I’m nothing, if not a humble walking ego.

So, the upside of having two houses to bounce back and forth to is that it gives me ample times to work on my jokes.  If I tell a knee slapper at Dad’s, sure as sunshine I’ll be working that one into conversation the next time I see Mom.  If I come up with a witty turn of phrase in the shower you can put money I’ll rehearse it in my head so that it will come out perfectly natural at the dinner table.  It’s worth the planning and contriving to get the room chuckling.

I find that gross hyperbole works best with my crowd, they aren’t really a “chicken walks into a bar” kind of crowd, but start bellowing about the labors of grocery shopping or movie ticket prices and I’m in. The more my stories wind up, the funnier they get.  If not, a one liner will generally do the trick in a pinch. Hopefully revealing this will not make them less appealing next time I have a good story to tell…twice.

With a hard, trying thing like divorce, it’s all about the silver lining.  I found mine. Oh yes, I’m a regular standup comedian.

Tags: divorce, family, jokes

Just got off of a fourteen-hour flight from Australia to Los Angeles.  I’m halfway back to my home state of South Carolina.  The flight fell in a really odd time where the fourteen hours were right in the peak of my bodyclock’s daytime, so I snoozed for a generous rounding-up of one hour.  We’re talking the kind of time frame that primed me for bedtime right as we were touching down.  I’m currently in LAX airport with a strong coffee and bags under my eyes.

(I hope I can get through this without falling asleep, I’m starting to get blurred vision.  Though FINALLY a semi-valid excuse for typos)

So, what did I do to occupy my time?  Mostly, peed a lot ¹ and watched movies.  The movie selection wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.  I ended up seeing a couple semi-new-ish movies that I had been curious about and a couple I didn’t really have an opinion on one way or the other (until now).

My List (in viewing order, may contain spoilers)

1. The Joneses
2. Precious
3. The Bounty Hunter
4. Babies
5. Just Wright

The Joneses

I like clever plays on popular memes and Demi Moore, so this wasn’t a bad pick for my first choice.  If I only knew it was setting the tone for the mediocrity for my following inflight experience.

“Stealth Marketing” is the name of the game where Demi Moore and David Duchonvy along with two teens form a fake family who are paid to move into a neighborhood and advertise various trends by being really really cool.  Look at my sweet Audi and new phone and awesome clothes, you should buy them too, look how happy they make us, we’re the perfect family. Etcetera.

It was a decent premise and a good enough story that was actually a lot more dramatic than I would have pegged, however, it copped out in the end by taking the easy ‘romance triumphs’ subplot.  I have no problems with such subplots, but it wasn’t really the dramatic question of the movie so I felt it inappropriate.  It wasn’t “Will Mulder get with Ashton’s wife” but “can the rookie perform and the fake family achieve the status that they all so desperately want?”  Or something to that effect.   It’s fine that Mr. Jones realizes in the end that this isn’t the life that he wanted to lead, but him wooing the ice cold Missus with him was a bit lame.  But otherwise enjoyable.

I rank this as ’3′ of the night.  Day.  Something.

Precious

Wow, just wow.  It was as heartbreaking and as beautiful as it promised to be.  The supporting cast was brilliant and Monique played a terrific monster.  It hammered away at my soul for two straight hours, but it was well worth it.

All I have to say is, fine, make her a rape/incest victim, give her two children by her own father, one of which has Downs Syndrome, let her mother physically and verbally abuse her and her children, ² make her illiterate, but then to make her HIV positive to boot?  Wow, movie-makers are jerks.

My favorite of the flight, but only by a hair.

The Bounty Hunter

Whoever would have thought that the movie entitled “The Bounty Hunter” would be romance comedy (and I do use the word “comedy” loosely).

Let’s be frank, this movie was shit.

It went exactly where you would expect it to, just the way you guessed it would – which I’m not necessarily opposed to on principle, but it tried so hard to be funny and wasn’t and the characters were downright unlikeable.  Gerard Butler wins the award for being the silver-screen’s largest douchebag.

Two characters who hate each other and have no chemistry end up together, and for what reason?  Hell if I know.  Butler’s character is clearly a moron.  The couple supposedly got married after six months of dating and they fought the whole time and then got divorced.  There was a reason for that last part.  They were terrible together and though I certainly didn’t know it by watching it, apparently they spent the hour and a half growing reluctantly fond of each other.  You could have fooled me, the only reason I know that is because they kissed in the end.

To make things worse they had a slapstick caricature stalker of Jennifer Aniston’s character and they threw in a ‘dirty cop cover-up scandal’ action subplot to pad out the ninety minutes.

This was the most perfunctory writing and storytelling I have witnessed in a long time, and I have a high tolerance for that sort of thing.

Least favorite of the night.  And I’m Team Aniston.

Babies

Babies! What can I say? This was adorable.  A beautiful documentary that I highly recommend.  It follows for infants (one from Mongolia, Africa, Japan and the USA) for the first year (ish) of their lives.  It has no dialogue and focuses entirely on the babies.  We hardly get glimpses of the parents’ faces at all, it’s all about how the infants interact with their surroundings/world/situation.  Brilliant storytelling and really gripping for two hours worth of babies wallering on the ground.  Everyone go rent it.

This came very close to being my favorite for the night.

Just Wright

Another default Rom Com.  Rich basketball player is injured and unwittingly falls for the tomboy, die-hard fan, who is his physical therapist.  Unoffensive and watchable, plus Queen Latifah.   Though, I could only guess that they got together in the end, we landed right in the middle of Prince Charming’s big speech, so I don’t know Latifah’s answer.  Maybe there was a twist that I didn’t see coming.

Side note, this was the second movie during this marathon that co-starred Paula Patton.  In this film she played Queen Latifah’s sexy gets-all-the-boys cousin and in Precious she played the eponymous characters’ role model and teacher.  God she is hot.

This movie slots happily into number ’4.’

I’m not foreseeing the domestic legs having my own personal television sets, so who knows what I’m in store for on the next leg.

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Tags: babies, babies documentary, demi moore, flying, international travel, jennifer aniston, jet lag, just wright, Movies, precious, precious the movie, queen latifah, South Carolina, the bounty hunter, the joneses