Warning! Nostalgic Post!!!!!!

I'm bored so I'm writing for the sake of writing.

After an all too brief break from filming, I head back down to Norman tomorrow.  It's a good thing I have things to distract me when I'm down there, such as oh-so-glamorous movie making, because every time I go, I'm hit with a wave of nostalgia that makes me feel quite old.  I actually get a bit sad whenever I exit good ol' 35 and turn onto Main Street.  It seems like all of my important relationships have had some sort of ties to Soonerville.  First, there was Big whom I spent about five years chasing and almost always wound up doing so somewhere on Campus Corner.  Countless break ups, make ups, trips to Starbucks, dollars spent on Pickle-Os, and morning afters were spent at my expense from Lindsey to Boyd.  It's a time I thought I'd never survive and yet, we both managed to do so.  Seems like only yesterday. Then there was Finch's wonderful grandparents and sister who still live down there, but strangely I never see. In fact, I don't think his grandma would mind if I snuck in and raided their fridge for old times sake.  She always made me eat something because she was convinced I was malnourished if left to my own devices.

Then there was Phil.  I like to call my first few trips down there to film for his projects my time of getting my feet wet. If someone had told me this person who, let's be honest, I was only mildly amused with would turn out to have the impact he did, I never would have believed them. He doesn't know this but by giving me a position of authority and an opportunity to finally do make up, he gave me confidence that was never associated with this town.  To me, this town meant rejection, vulnerability, and settling for less. But these trips became different.  I got to boss around pissy actors. Then before I knew it, I was single again and I had a built in wing man for the bars down there. But that project wrapped finally after blimps, birds, and divas tried to stop it and I made my way back home to clean up my life and subsequently, my apartment. But the final trip home was different.  For once I wasn't crying or uncertain.  I  had a best friend.

Tulsa proved to be quite drama filled, so when Phil approached me to work on his capstone, I jumped at the chance.  I got to get away again!  I would get to spend hours in the car with my music and my thoughts.  This was perfect.  I could go and enjoy the weekend it would take up.  Then there was the guy. The guy who was perfect.  The guy who made me happy.  The guy who OD'd while I was in Norman filming.  THAT guy.  I never told Phil the happenings of that day while we were filming.  He never knew about my bathroom panic attacks, my feeling guilty, or anything. I was there to pull him out of his filming rants and that made me useful.  I met all his friends.  They liked me.  They told us to date, made us kiss for pictures, told us we were perfect together.  This being the first time I'd heard any thoughts on the subject of us, I looked to Phil for cues as to how to respond.  "She's like my sister.  It's gross."  Okay, then.  That's that.  We were best friends and nothing more. Well, you all know the story so I'll leave it at that.  The rest is history.

My point in this rambling mess, (congratulations for making it this far), my friends, is this.  I wrapped up years in that town and tied them up with a pretty bow.  Now I feel as though I've come full circle and kicked Norman's ass.      

And so it begins....

Hello, all.

After seeing that everyone and their dog has a blog, I started thinking.  I'm funny, witty, and all around brilliant so why wouldn't everyone want to read what I have to say....  Oh, wait.  Sorry I turned into Phil there for a second.  Love you, honey.  Really, Facebook only gives me so much satisfaction these days so I finally sat down to start this thing.


First, it was going to be a weight loss blog because I've started the uphill journey to a size two.  That will only take me so far.  It's a battle I need to complete on my own.  So really, what this blog will be about will be the daily happenings of this hairstylist.  

Starting with the most exciting news to date, I'm working on an indie film based out of Norman.  It's called Rolling Stoned.  I am their Make-Up Department Head.  A big step for a small town girl, no?  I thought so.  We started filming last week and it has already been exhausting.  But, cest la vie.  Such is this industry that I choose to live, breathe, and otherwise immerse myself in.  I couldn't be happier.  Everybody knows for the most part, the ins and outs of film making thanks to so many Behind the Scenes bonus features on DVDs nowadays.  So I have decided to go another route with how I chronicle this experience...


Welcome to "Stupid Shit Actors Say or:  Why The Screen Actors' Guild and Writer's Guild of America are Separate Orginizations".  In this section of what I hope to be biweekly posts, I will be listing the things that fly out of my actors' mouths be they funny, bitchy, or a blatant butchering of the English language. Since the blog is new, you get a two-fer.  


I am starting with this gem of an exchange between my male lead and my production manager.
"Nobody is answering their phones.  Who is supposed to pick me up?"--Actor
"Did you really just call me at 7:15 AM to ask me how you are supposed to get across the street in your own damn vehicle?"--PM
"I um....the call sheet is wrong."--Actor
"Listen, sweetie, it's not my job to get you to the set.  You have a car."--PM
"Then who's job is it?"--Actor


And my personal favorite, this one is between a completely different actor and I.  He is trying to tell me how to do my job.
"I want it see through.  More opaque.  Grease has a definite opacity to it."--Actor
"I see.  Would you like it more redundant too?"--Me
My director responded by spitting his coffee out, hugging me, and telling me I was amazing.


There are plenty of others to be sure, but after three fifteen hour shooting days in a row, my brain is a tad melted.  Until next time.


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