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.

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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Though I have had no celebrity sightings as of yet – to which I am very disappointed, by the way – my first week has not been terribly uneventful.

I have:

• Found a box of kittens on my doorstep.  Yes, kittens, just plopped there with no mommy.
• Been to Disneyland.  Met Belle, she’s a hottie.
• Had a mental breakdown over tiny matters, including but not limited to “how much to feed the fish.”  I’m very emotional right now.
• Visited the Cheesecake Factory of Pasadena, in theory where Penny from “The Big Bang Theory” works.  I did not see her there.
• Woke up from from a good night’s sleep to find a domestic worker in the kitchen.  Apparently she did not get the memo about the Europe frolicking.

And, as of this afternoon, I have sent my resume to real life Hollywood TV shows.  Yes, that’s right.  There are people who work on TV that have my resume in their possesion.  Well, at least in their office…  their fax machines.

I systematically and indiscriminately worked my way down the list alphabetically.  I was going to work until five, but somewhere around mid-alphabet (where all the cool shows undoubtedly sit) I decided that though there would probably be people there for hours longer, I did not want to be the resume that sits on the “late afternoon” pile.  I want to be with the early morning birds with worms resume.  So, I put the rest of my career on hold until tomorrow.

So, A-E have a jump start on my awesome talent, but don’t worry Rest-of-the-Alphabet, you’ll catch up.

Check back next week, I’ll probably be famous by then.

ADDENDUM:

Not three hours after I posted this, the house four doors down from me caught fire and burned down.  I stood in the driveway watching the firemen, just in case it decided to ninja across three lawns to my house. Just thought I would add it to my list.

Today marks the beginning of a new chapter in my life and I have spent large portion of it watching Apple trailers on my laptop.

In two weeks I set out on the journey that all my other journeys have led to. Finally, after years and years of wanting to do one thing, I have resolved to do it and it’s getting closer by the minute. I am moving to Los Angeles to attempt carving out an entertainment career for myself, something I have wanted to do since the sixth grade. Now I’m finally doing it. So, I should be stoked, estatic… prepared. And I’m not.

I have found the best way to deal with what is happening is to ignore it. I have moved across the world with very little possessions to essentially start over in a completely new place, only taking a mild detour to my childhood home to gear up. And what am I doing now? Pretending that I don’t have to pack, to buy health insurance, a car, bedsheets and just downloading the Harry Potter movies instead.

I’m terrified.

I’m terrified of failing, of succeeding, of being depressed, of being happy and I can’t tell you why. I’m terrified I’m going to be mugged in the grocery store, I’m terrified I’ll mismanage my money, I’m terrified no will hire me to do anything much less what I actually want to do, I’m terrified I won’t have any friends. So many good things can come from this terror, but right now, all that is coming from it is denial.

Life’s too hard, so I’m going to pretend like it’s not there.

Ladytaining (verb)

1. To entertain a lady in a sexy way.

2. A date with a woman, most often at the residence of the individual pursuing said woman.

“I can’t go out tonight, I’ll be ladytaining all night.  And hopefully all morning, wacka chicka”

Spread the word.  ”Ladytaining” is going to catch on.

I broke down and got an iPad back in January because they finally went on sale.  A day later, I found out they were releasing an all new and improved version.

My feelings towards this can be found here.

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(too lazy to even come up with my own picture. credit to likesirl.com)

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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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

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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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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