27 Days Later

With the advent of the new year, I took on a Bikram 30-day challenge. 30 days, 30 yoga classes of 90 minutes each in a 105 degree room. Having done heaps of Bikram in the past, I knew the treacherous challenges and the pleasures both, but this month I discovered how much more joy and altitude comes from doing that same thing every day, rather than even 4-5 times a week. I swore the only thing that would stop me from making it into the studio would be a day working on set: hence 27 days straight followed by yesterday, today, and tomorrow. D'ohh! That said, the path of the righteous can't involve too much nit-picking, now can it? A toast to me! 3 x 3 x 3 days of sweating through every pore and glowing like a nightlight or one of those insects they were invented after is a great thing...and so is being an actor, whether in background or foreground, and in the case of this weekend, in a very puffy wig.

Dog Freckles

Today I worked on a shoot where there was a dog, or rather, a dog and an understudy dog. "He's in training," his handler told me. Basically, while the rest of us study Meisner or the Harold, this Irish Setter learns how to behave on set. The expert-actor dog was formidable at his job, for sure, but his performance was enhanced. Sitting still, he allowed a stylist to strategically place freckles across his snout and forehead. Dog freckles, I thought as I held my place in the background, Without them we'd all be plain.

Truth in Advertising

For one brief, curried moment, truth in advertising and me using a prepared food item rather than making everything by hand as I usually do like an old-world peasant collided...and that moment was indeed delicious.

World Traveller's Plug

Your American electronics require translation, just as in the UK you get to use two of the letter "L" to spell "traveller." One must be ready for the green hills, the moody weather, and to bridge the cultural gap. One plane ticket short, I've already packed both my grammatical skills and my tools. With all those gorgeous farm boys and sheep around, I couldn't possibly not give my hair a blow-out.

Vacant, Slumbering Creatures Vs. ...

My callback today for a short (comedic) film about accepting zombies into our society took place in the offices of "America's Next Top Model." Right...coincidence.

"I Just Wanted To Make A Movie With Fur"

The Fantastic Mr. Fox, indeed.

Lamb vs. Banana

Raw foodist Dr. Douglas Graham poses a key question: Put a child in a room with a lamb and a banana. Sit back and watch to see which he plays with and which he eats. While I would invariably choose the banana, I still question Dr. Graham's logic, as there are a few more details we would like to know:

Is the lamb dipped in banana juice? Is the lamb peelable? Does the lamb come with a sprig of parsley?

Does the banana seem like a good schoolyard companion? Does the banana have the face of a fighter? Is the banana actually a pig in a Halloween costume?

Does the child prefer playmates who are yellow or cream-colored: is the child a racist? When the child considers leftovers, does the child want to wear clothing or cause another child to slip to comic effect? Is the child a narcissist only interested in the sound of his own voice, who would be put at dis-ease by the baaing of a new friend?

Does the child eat food, or is the child actually a robot or a breatharian, or a robot who aspires to become human so as to become a monk who is a breatharian? Does the robot perceive monks to wear woolen sweaters? Are those sweaters plain, or do they have a design woven into them, such as the cheerful image of fruit? Is this only to attract press, eager for a good headline about the vanity of those who meditate? And what's with the Raybans anyway: sleeping when everyone thinks you're practicing Tonglen?

Look, you're a robot; you don't need sleep. I thought we made these things to vacuum our houses. Those chip crumbs aren't going to clean themselves up.

Brain and Body vs. Coffee and Cookie

Who will rule the roost? Will there be caffeine and chocolate chips, or will the temptations cease and desist? The challenge is on...

...or so goes my reality show pitch, were I to pitch a reality show based on my actual reality.

2009 Golden Globes

Let's just all cut to the part where Jane Lynch wins Best Supporting Actress for her role on "Glee." And if that doesn't happen, then what was all that traffic today up and down Santa Monica Boulevard for anyway? As Sue Sylvester would say, Never let anything distract you from winning. Because if she doesn't, You'll be adding revenge to the long list of things you're no good at, right next to being married, running a high school glee club, and finding a hairstyle that doesn't make you look like a lesbian.

Update 1/18/10: I am truly assuaged by the great "Glee" win for best comedy/musical television show. Just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world...just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit...Don't-STOP!-bee-lee-ving...!

SWAG from SAG

Every union actor, whether with career on the rise or barely making a peep, has something to look forward to in awards season: presents! Oh, they may call them "screeners" or "screenings" or "envelopes with your name on them that don't contain bills," but nonetheless: free stuff you didn't have before. This week's daily trips to the mailbox produced DVDs of "Up in the Air," "Precious," "An Education," and "Julie & Julia." Additionally, this weekend I'll be attending the Golden Globes-nominated foreign directors panel (including god-head Almodovar) and "Avatar," as presented by James Cameron and star Zoe Saldana over at FOX.

Watching my spoils, I joyously eat popcorn as the watermarked word Paramount flashes across George Clooney's face every fifteen minutes. Red carpet gown only to be seen this month on my apartment's decidedly gray carpet, my big dreams are not only intact, but are gently coddled by these goods. Like a soporific baby after milk, I prepare my winning speech.

...To Name a Few

I thought "and what-not" was bad, but at least it doesn't carry the hefty false swagger of "to name a few." It lies in the same ilk of impressarios, but rather than spicing on casual cool, it uses a plastic-elegant cutting short of one's own sword. I've worked with verrry important directors, the person says, Coppola, Mendes...to name a few. (The rest were mediocre film students.) The newsletter reads, We've got excellent prices on our wares. Top wines and prime rib, to name a few. (Everything else costs twice as much or isn't desirable.) Beyond bragging, though, is just plain verbal laziness. Vocal or written templates of the users of this flaccid phrase are merely Hello! [Statement of importance!] [X], [Y], [Z], to name a few! One wants to say, crow's feet gently both comely and sinister around one's own twinkling eyes, Don't stop there...tell me more.

In Gratitude, Please Accept This Googly-Eyed Banana I Made You

Bikram + Cows

Bikram Choudhury, developer of my favorite kind of yoga, needs a bovine-related intervention. Case in point #1: his fetish with the hamburger and accompanying slurring of vegetarianism of any breed. Since when do vegetarians die weak and early? Never mind that India, from whence both yoga and Bikram himself come, is packed full of plant-eaters. Case in point #2: when star teacher Emmy Cleaves, commenting on his preference students practice in a 105 degree room, said to Bikram that "if you'd turn down the stupid heat, this room would be much more full," he replied "An empty barn is better than a barn full of naughty cows." Naughty cows? Cows that aren't cooked and/or sweating bullets in their Lululemon outfits? Case in point #3: All Bikram studios contain portraits of Bikram and his gurus, and one if not all sit on tiger-skin rugs: you know, the kind with the giant tiger head placed just forward of the dude's full lotus. It's like Bikram's spelling it out in no uncertain terms: Cow, see what I did to the tiger.

Pedro Almodovarareallthepeoplewithtaste?

"Broken Embraces": another masterpiece from my favorite director, seen only by me and four little old ladies while everyone else in Los Angeles is at "Avatar."

Judging from Your Orange Sweatpants

Woke up from a nap. Wearing no makeup, pulled on sweatpants, sneakers, and an old coat and headed out to the local health food market for vegan cookies and soymilk. The guy behind the cash register tries his best to puzzle out on which television show I'm a series regular.

Hollywood: where looking terrible makes others think you're a star. (Hey! I'll take it!)

No Seriously, I Really Want This Bookshelf

(And you, dear reader, thought it was just a metaphor.)

Twitterpated for 2010

Thanks, Urban Dictionary. "Twitterpated" really is in the lexicon and not just one friend's jargon. I may be some years behind in discovering the word, but this is the year to rock its meaning. Like a brand new set of cubbies, these twelve months beckon and wink about what they'll carry.