That's Me Right Behind the Stars

Last Tuesday when I was on the set of the movie that's probably going to be a Lifetime movie, but not definitely, the extras casting lady pulled me aside and said the director wanted to be sure I'd be back for a scene shooting later that night. The very nice casting lady could have been pulling my leg, or maybe the director said something like, "ask that girl in the yellow top to be sure and come back tonight." I'll never know.

Later that night I did go back for another scene. I was delighted when the first assistant director (AD for short), a sweetly efficient teddy-bear of a man, pulled me and another actress out of the bunch and positioned us directly in front of the camera. He and the director had us scoot up a few inches, back a few inches, look this way, look that way, and then they dropped little sandbag Xs at our feet to mark the spots where we stood. Then we were dismissed so that the principal actresses could step into their shot. I simply served as a stand-in for lighting purposes. Ouch.

Fortunately, I returned for two more scenes later where I was very likely recognizable in the shots. Yay.

Last night, I went back for yet another scene, set in a small-town Texas roadhouse. The first few shots, I doubt that my own mom could pick me out of the crowd. The third shot (third time's a charm!) I was getting a crash course in the Texas-Two-Step dance when the teddy-bear of a first AD, asked if he could borrow me for a moment. I gladly agreed to get away from my overzealous dance partner, even if it meant I was a stand-in again. Imagine my delight when I was seated directly behind the main actors for the pivotal dramatic scene in the movie! Why yes, that's me reacting to the big news that actor C. Thomas Howell reveals! *Remember no spoilers here. You have to watch the movie when it comes out.* Yay! Oh, and that's also the back of my head in the final scene where all the principal characters are lined up at the bar.

In my humble opinion, C. Thomas Howell is a super-nice, super-funny guy. He was juggling billiard balls and cracking jokes between takes for our amusement. During a scripted scuffle with another actor, CTH was very respectful of the other actor, making sure that he was comfortable with the staged shoving.

Last night's schedule didn't see me hit the hay until 4:00 AM, but it was worth the missed sleep.

That Movie I'm Working On

It turns out that the movie for which I'm doing a few scenes may not be for Lifetime after all. I got this update from the casting director today:

"Please Note: This project is not being made by Lifetime. It is an independent feature that will be presented to Lifetime by a Director who has had other films picked up by Lifetime."

Drats! This movie better get picked up by Lifetime. It's part of my five-year career path to be in a Lifetime movie. Whatever will I do if I have to deviate from my (totally random) five-year plan due to circumstances that are beyond my control? (She typed sarcastically.) But, seriously, it would be cool to be in a Lifetime movie.

I won't be posting any spoilers here, but the movie is looking great from what I've seen on set. Totally Lifetime worthy. Maybe even a little too good for Lifetime.

Yes, That's Me in the Lifetime Movie!

Two weeks ago, I had the privilege of hearing Bonnie Orr, an Austin screenwriter and producer, speak at a Network Austin Film Mixer. Among many interesting stories, she shared her latest project with us, a movie she wrote for Lifetime network. Though I hate to admit it to most people, I love me some Lifetime movies once in a while. My favorite Lifetime movie ever has to be Tori Spelling's "Mother, May I Sleep with Danger?" about a deranged stalker boyfriend and a brave mother who helps her daughter (played by Tori) break free from her oppressor.

While Tori Spelling is not in Bonnie's new movie, the movie is filming about an hour down the road from Austin, and is making good use of local talent. I got to work as an extra yesterday. First I sat in a library doing research at a computer. Which meant that I had one web page open checking emails and chatting with friends between takes, and then switched to another web page about British Royalty history when the camera was rolling to make my "research" look legit. The Lockhart, Texas library that we filmed in yesterday was beautiful with hardwood floors, stained-glass windows and tin-tile ceilings. Everyone on the set was super-nice, with the notable exception of one ego-driven rude person who earned themselves an equally rude nickname. I swear I am not responsible for the nickname, as I try to remain professional and polite on set. I recognized several people from that indie movie I worked on this summer, and I knew two other actors from my acting workshop. I'll be going back a few times over the next two weeks for other scenes. I even get to cry on camera in some upcoming scenes. Yay! My superpower is crying on cue. When it comes to acting, for me crying is easy, but laughing believably when there's nothing funny is difficult. Try it now, wherever you are, laugh really loud. See? It's difficult. And if you're at work or out in public, you're probably getting funny looks now. Ha ha.

I'll post a link when the movie comes out. Maybe I'll even have a little viewing party. We can play "spot Jenn's elbow" and "where's the back of Jenn's head" as we watch.

Chain Letter Brings Books!

A few weeks ago I received a chain letter from my pal Kristen in Tennessee. I groaned and thought, "I don't have time for this nonsense." When I read the letter and handwritten post-it note, I realized that this was not the typical bad-luck-befalls-any-who-break-the-chain kind of chain letter, but an informal book club chain letter. I sent one book to the person listed on the back of my letter. Then I sent the letter on to six people with Kristen's name and address on the back of their letters, and so on. I have already received two books! Neither of which I've read, and both of which look very good! Thanks, fellow bibliophiles!

Janie's Fall Wardrobe

Janie models her new daisies on an orange background collar for fall. Who's a sweet, pretty girl? Janie is!

Smells Like Fall

This morning Janie and Sonic wanted to hover in the doorway rather than committing to going outside or staying inside, so I turned off the AC and left the back door open. I'm a permissive pet-mom in that way (and in many other ways).

As I sat on the deck with my morning Diet Coke under the shade umbrella, there was a light breeze. It was pleasantly sunny, as opposed to the burn-your-retina sunniness of most summer days. The air felt cool, even by 10:30 AM. That's when it hit me, the smell of fall. It was in the air for just a few minutes. Oh reverie! Fall air!

Then some big truck went bumping along that busy, numbered street we live next to, and I smelled truck exhaust.

I highly anticipate the real start of fall, when that clean, leafy smell invades the air more constantly.

Another Reason I Love Half Price Books

Most trips to the Half Price Books store on North Lamar Blvd at Koenig yield gems such as vintage Nancy Drew books, reduced price chick-lit books, quirky stationary or cash. (I sell our old video games, books, DVDs and CDs there.)

Yesterday low blood-sugar, allergies and ennui collided to render me uselessly cranky. I went to Half Price Books as a pick-me-up treasure hunt. After wandering the store and striking out in the Nancy Drew search, angels sang and a light shone upon me when I spotted Party Girl on the DVD rack. This movie stars the lovely and talented Parker Posey as world-weary party girl looking for her purpose and finding it in the library! This DVD is no longer manufactured and hard to find. I nearly wore out the videotape of this movie. When Chad & I (finally) made the switch to DVD only player (no more VHS) last year, my tape of Party Girl was no longer relevant. But I kept it, because I love the movie so much. Party Girl is my movie-woobie, like Linus' blanket or Lucy's duck, I need this movie near me. And now I have it in DVD form.

Thank you, Half Price Books. Thank you, Hollywood Video for going out of business and selling your library of movies to Half Price Books.

Who Wants a Cuddly Kitten?!

My fellow animal-lover and acting pal, Tracy, rescued four sweet cuddly kittens and their mama-cat from a raccoon attack. (Bad raccoon!) Tracy is keeping the mama-cat, but would like to find great homes for the babies. She says,

"They are very sweet, friendly, playful and loving . They get along great with other cats. Not sure how they react to dogs. They are 10 weeks old. They are fully weaned and eat Kitten Chow and Canned Food. Litter box trained. They are wormed and de-flea’d and ready to find loving, happy homes."

Let me know if you'd like Tracy's phone number to set up a kitten meeting. She has three boys (two gray-black puffballs and one orange striper) and one girl (a tortoise shell beauty).

If Chad and I weren't already housing three cats and a dog, I'd take one or two of these cuties, but we have a delicate balance in the fuzzy department right now. One more cuddle-monster might tip the scales in favor of the wild kingdom and send the fur flying.

Top 5 Reasons I Yearn for October

1. The cooler weather. Recent sub-100-degree days have offered an enticing preview of fall.

2. More willingness on my part to go outside, so I can repaint the trim that the previous owners of this house chose not to finish painting. It's on the roof peak. I spotted the incomplete paint job when I was watering our neighbors' plants back a few months ago. It's been bugging me ever since. I also want to repaint the shutters and doors from black to purple. Yep, purple. The paint color's proper name is "blackberry jam".

3. Gardening season! That dustbowl of a front yard is going to get a major overhaul and another baby tree. The baby tree we have out there now is lonely.

4. My birthday. The one day out of my year when tater tots and cupcakes are an acceptable meal.

5. The BYOP party! It's gonna be fun! I love carving jack-o-lanterns! Save the date of Saturday, October 25.

Extra, Extra, Read All About It

Yesterday I joined the ranks of many other central Texans who have served as extras on the television series Friday Night Lights. Set in the small fictional town of Dillon, Texas, the show revolves around high school football. I have never watched it. But yesterday I dined at the Dillon country club (actually Green Pastures Restaurant here in Austin) at the table next to the Garrity (football booster dad and head cheerleader daughter) clan and their guests. Janine Turner (of Northern Exposure fame) played a trophy-wife to some dude I didn't recognize.

I've often reported that I prefer the thrill of performing live to the hurry-up-and-wait repetition of film. The physical rush of acting on stage sometimes feels like my heart might jump out of my chest and I might pass out, which can be unpleasant at first, but feels invigorating once I find my rhythm and remember my lines.

Last weekend when I was serving as background scenery for my friends' sitcom pilot, I had fun. Between scenes I chatted with my pals and met some new people that were friends of friends. The sitcom guys were very gracious and said "thanks for being here" many times. In contrast, I didn't know anyone on the set of Friday Night Lights. The FNL crew mostly seemed annoyed at having to talk to us, rather than thanking us.

Yesterday started on a pleasant-enough note with the wardrobe lady liking my dress and the makeup lady complimenting my expert ability to apply liquid eye-liner. My car was chosen to be parked in the lot at the "Dillon country club" for which I was paid an extra $10/the equivalent of two-and-a-half gallons of gas.

Once we got to the restaurant, the boredom began. All of the extras had to wait in a small, stuffy room while the crew finished setting up the main dining room. Yawn. After 20 minutes we were herded in cattle-style and shown to our seats. I confess that I took a certain seat at my table on purpose by telling a man that "we should sit boy-girl-boy-girl" when I really wanted to sit facing out into the main dining room. My calculated move paid off as I watched the principal actors file in later and sit directly in my line of sight at the next table. For three hours, the other extras and I pantomimed conversations and pretended to eat. There are NO sounds allowed when the camera is rolling except for the main actors delivering lines. We had to be very careful to avoid clinking noises from glasses or silverware. The food had to be re-plated and picked up after every scene to be delivered again later, so we could NOT eat anything but little nibbles of our dinner rolls. My table mates were all talkative attention-mongers (actors, sheesh!) while I preferred to sit quietly between takes as directors and crew members walked around telling us to stay quiet and making the shhhh! sound/gesture. All the shhhhh-ing sounded like air rushing out of giant tires.

After the film crew shot each scene they needed from five different viewpoints, the crew and principal actors were whisked away in waiting vans. The other extras and I had to sit semi-quietly for thirty minutes and wait for the dust to settle before we were allowed to return to the casting office to sign-out and hand over our pay vouchers. Watching a show get made takes the glamor out of show business.

Maybe this season I'll actually watch Friday Night Lights so I can point to the teal out-of-focus blob at the Dillon country club and exclaim, "That's me!", but I hope I'll have better things to do.

One Step Closer to Dream Job

Regular readers (hi Grandma) and friends know that it is my dream-job to act as a sitcom-mom in a popular series for about five years, then maybe go off and do some Lifetime movies. Guess who was just cast as the mom for a sitcom pilot? ME! And it's a paid role. (Not that I act for the money, but money for work is a nice bonus/validation.)

Disclaimers: This sitcom may never see the light of day. If this sitcom gets picked up by a network, the network will likely recast all roles. If this sitcom does not get picked up by a network, it may be produced as a web series, or may just die quietly like so many sparks of creative-genius before it have.

I spent the past weekend working as a featured player (nice name for extra) on this same sitcom pilot. We filmed from midnight until sunrise at a restaurant after it closed each night. (Sound stages are awfully expensive. The owner of this restaurant is a mutual friend who let us use the place for free.) I know the writers of this sitcom, and think they are a great group of talented, smart, well-connected young guys who will go far. I am happy just to be a part of their dream. In turn, they are thankful for my willingness to give up a few nights of sleep to be background scenery (an extra) in the restaurant scenes for their pilot episode. One of these writers called me tonight to offer me the (paid!) role of the mom. Which means I'll be losing some sleep next weekend too for the nighttime filming.

Yay! I am so thankful for this great opportunity, and so thankful for the sense of encouragement that this role gives me in the grander scheme of things.

Sing It, Sister!

Last week as I was out running errands, I looked ahead from my stopped position at a red light and saw a young woman standing on the concrete median between six lanes of traffic. She was NOT holding one of those sad signs begging for money. She had on earphones and was singing, or maybe lip-synching, and gesturing passionately. I assume that there was music coming through the earphones, but maybe not. Maybe there was just music in her head. Hopefully the music wasn't telling her to do bad things. I was at the red light long enough to see her finish a song, take a little bow with a flourish, and start another song. I totally stared at this really confident/kinda crazy girl as she performed. I didn't dare roll the window down to see if I could hear her actually emitting any sound, because I was a tiny bit scared. As my friend Jenny says, "don't mess with crazy, because crazy always wins."

Of course, maybe the girl at the intersection wasn't crazy. Maybe she lost a bet and had to perform to settle the score. Maybe she was getting paid to be out there, like the time I dressed up as Batgirl and walked around Sixth Street for that scavenger hunt. Maybe her performance was a homework assignment from her summer session of Psychology 301, like the time my Psychology professor instructed the class members to do something socially unacceptable, but not dangerous, and then write a one page paper about people's reactions. Hey... maybe it was for a Klondike Bar!

What Would You Do for a Klondike Bar?

This following is excerpted from an email from a pal I met at an acting workshop. Go to the Klondike website and vote for her video! Details:

"Recently I had the pleasure of working with my friend and colleague Q Manning to create the following spec commercial for a contest currently being hosted by the Klondike bar company. The piece in question stars myself and a 4'x4' Klondike bar monster (voiced by the lovely & talented John Gholson), and can be viewed here:


Jen Blair's Klondike Video

It is imperative (IMPERATIVE!!!) that you VOTE VOTE VOTE for us once you view the commercial, as a substantial cash reward hangs in the balance! The site requires one to "register" in order to vote, which is a bit of a pain in the @$$ (apologies for this)...nevertheless, your love, support, and good juju (in the form of a vote for "5 Klondike Bars") would be greatly appreciated :-)"

Jaws of Life versus Jaws of Death!

Awwww, isn't Sonic sweet the way he hunkers-down next to St. Francis (patron saint of God's critters) in our backyard? Looks can be deceiving! Earlier today, as I went out to the deck to herd Sonic inside, I saw a tiny green tail dangling from Sonic's lips. I had to pry his mouth open while giving him a very gentle squeeze to liberate a tiny baby chameleon lizard. The lizard dropped to the deck and sat in a daze for a few seconds while I hauled our fourteen-pound Sonic-kitty inside. I watched out the window as the baby lizard shook off her brush with death and skittered away. Sonic stood by the back door and howled for fifteen minutes, wanting to get back out for a rematch. That's not a fair fight, little dude, not at all.

On a semi-related note, I've been tempted lately to give up on my vegetarian lifestyle and eat some meat. Almost every night the scent of grilled meat wafts over from some neighbor's house to my nose, causing visions of cheeseburgers to dance in my head. Last week, Chad was eating chicken tenders and I almost reached over to grab one. But today I saw a dead pigeon and suddenly meat is not at all appetizing anymore. Problem solved.

Craft Club!

It's been a while since my craft club last met, but that lull gave me time to finally finish our last project. I made these cute quilted coasters. The Amy Butler fabric is leftover from my quilt class project. The fabric and the quilt class were courtesy of Craft-o-rama.

Make your own quilted coasters with this link to the Martha Stewart website.

Janie + Kenji = Furry Friends

Kenji, our scrappy Siamese-mix kitty loves her Janie-dog. Kenji is very at ease with Janie, and likes to relax in the same area with Janie. This despite the fact that Kenji weighs nine pounds and Janie weighs a healthy forty-six pounds.

Our other two cats will walk near Janie and like to sniff Janie when she's sleeping, but they don't hang out with Janie the way Kenji does.

What Chad Does at Work

(Click the triangle to play the video.) The part of Chad is being played by the designer guy.

Old Enough to Know Better, Young Enough to Not Care

My weekend was delightfully busy. I'm worn out from fun. Saturday after a few chores, I went to book club, and later raced over to West Campus to be an extra for a movie. I don't want to jinx anything, but the movie is feature-length and the crew is very professional and well-organized, so maybe the movie will get released and maybe my parts will make it into the final cut. I was part of a kickball team on Tuesday for this movie, and part of several party scenes for this movie Saturday night. My fellow-actors Saturday night ranged in age from 16 to 24. I did my best to blend in and not call attention to my advanced age. I wore a cute shirt from Alloy (one of those clothing catalogs aimed at teenage-girls) that the wardrobe person loved.

I let my extra/actor cohorts do most of the talking between takes on the movie set. I smiled and nodded and said "cool" and "awesome" to their cute, naive chatter. It was refreshing to hang out with the youngsters. I even got invited to a college party at the 21st Street Coop. Around 2:00 AM, one of the teenage girls had to call her mom to check-in and assure her mom that she was still safely on the movie set, and that no one was consuming alcohol. (No one was. The insurance policy for the film cast and crew doesn't allow any alcohol consumption. See? Very professional group.) One of the kids I had been talking to was a 22-year-old bartender for Chuy's and he started discussing fake IDs and policies regarding age and alcohol. Then he asked how old everyone was. I tried to shirk the question, but he was dogged about finding out my age. I finally confessed, "I'm 35." This was met with audible gasps and "no way"s. The group consensus was that they thought I was older, like 23 or 24, but had no idea I was 35. "You just blew my mind," said the 20-year-old who had been hitting on me earlier.

Thank you, teenage-girl clothing catalogs. Thank you, dim lighting. Thank you, sunscreen. Thank you, Monica at Maximum FX, for my youthful and flattering haircut. And thanks especially to my sweet husband who puts up with my youthful shenanigans, such as staying out half the night dancing in West Campus to be an extra in a movie.

Sunday was busy too with fun potluck brunch plans, an audition that went well, a trip to Deep Eddy Pool, a call to the AC service people (ugh), and lots of hand-watering of wilting plants.

Hooray (and thank goodness) for my lazy Monday.

5 Things I'm Loving Lately

1. The Mediterranean Mezza Salad from Central Market, although I pick off the dolmas (stinky, blech) and black olives (also stinky, blech). Is it weird to have a crush on a salad?

2. Matt & Nat Purses and Wallets, no animals harmed in the making of these fashionable accessories. My latest acquisition is being delivered soon!

3. Carolina Liar's song I'm Not Over, every time this song comes on the radio I turn up the volume and rock-out like the doofus I am.

4. Wearing a size 6. Yes, I've met my goal of breathing room in a size 6. Just 3 more pounds to hit my goal weight.

5. Buffalo Exchange for giving new life to my now-too-big clothes and giving me some spending money.

We're No Winos

Elsa with her daughters on the terrace at Villa San Andrea


Me in the nice, cool wine cellar at Villa San Andrea

Chad and I are not fine wine connoisseurs. Most wines just taste yucky to me, grape juice gone bad, except for the white sparkling variety such as champagne or prosecco, but even then I prefer my bubbly on the sweet/asti side. Chad likes some reds reasonably well, but he can't name a region or varietal or vintage preference. So why would we pay to go on a tour of two wineries in the Tuscan hills outside of Florence? Because we wanted to see the Tuscan countryside and get away from the bustle and shuffle of Florence. As the tour van wound through some parkland and hills, Florence looked more scenic from a distance.

Our first stop was Villa San Andrea. The lush landscape of the place sprawled gorgeously across 1300 acres. The old houses, church and wine cellar oozed charm. The air was so fresh and fragrant with lavender blossoms, that it almost tasted of relaxation. The various wines fermented in giant old oak barrels housed in a pleasantly cool subterranean chamber. I even liked some of the wines we tasted. When people speak of Tuscany, this is the happy place that my brain will reference. Aaaahhh...

A little too soon (I could have spent a week Villa San Andrea), we were off to our lunch destination down a dusty, bumpy, narrow dirt road. Our fearless tour leader, Elsa, assured us that the food would be well-worth the journey. Elsa never steered us wrong. The restaurant spilled out of a tiny old house to giant picnic tables under shady, vine-covered pergolas. I never thought I'd pine for pickled purple onions, but they were delicious! The roasted garlic was smooth and non-stinky, the perfect companion to the rustic bread and fresh tomatoes. The fresh-made fettuccine with walnut sauce made my eyes roll back. I said, "mmmmmmm" aloud as I tried the ricotta-filled ravioli with white truffle shavings. The big Tuscan broad beans with olive oil and sea-salt were simple, but scrumptious. All the above were vegetarian dishes, like me. You'll have to ask Chad how the meaty stuff was. Elsa told us that she waits for this meal all year. (She only visits the Florence/Tuscan region once a year.)

Our next stop was the Panzanello Winery. While the land for this winery dated back to the same family for over 400 years, the buildings were all new and had that new smell. I should disclose that I loathe new-house-smell and new-car-smell. That's why my house is old and my cars are always previously-owned. So I was a bit dissatisfied by the scent/bouquet of this winery from the get-go. The wine here doesn't soak in the giant old oak barrels. The wine here soaks in new, small barrels for just a few weeks. It also doesn't age as long in the bottle before shipping out to market. None of the wine here tasted good to my less-than-refined palette. However, the owners of the place were super-nice and the winery is a recognized organic farm. Don't let my opinion prevent you from buying their wine.

That was our last day in Italy. The next morning, we were at the Florence airport bright and early for our flight out. We got delayed in Frankfurt for an hour by an organized labor union slow-down, which isn't a full strike, but shows how the airport could quickly come to a stand-still should a full strike occur. Those uber-efficient Germans got it all out of their system and got the show on the road after just an hour! Eight hours later, we landed in Washington D.C. to find our next flight delayed by three hours. By the time we finally pulled into our driveway in Austin, we'd been awake for twenty-six hours. Yikes.