Little Voices in My Head

A few nights ago, I indulged in a secret fantasy of mine. Get your filthy minds out of the gutters. I indulged in all of THOSE fantasies years ago and still do quite often thankyouverymuch. This one was new, and almost completely innocent.  I had no idea I was going to get the opportunity to do so when the evening started. You see, the BF and I were having a normal evening, when the mood struck us to take a drive. Just get into the car and GO. The car decided we were going to go to the beach. Don’t ask. The car (aptly named “C.A.R.” or Carissa’s After Reimbursement of bank) has a large mind of its own. Just so happens that I know of a nice quiet beach in the direction the C.A.R. decided to go, with a swing set.  The impulse to hop on the swings and fly could NOT be suppressed. Once there, facing the ocean, feeling the breeze whipping my hair about my face, I couldn’t keep the memories of Hawaii from flooding back. The BF very patiently listened as I related story after story of moments very similar to the one we were experiencing. Something about the smell here in NC just isn’t the same though. The vegetation isn’t right, and the ocean isn’t as…crisp. That’s not quite the right description, but I don’t think it really can be described; you either know what I’m talking about, because you’ve experienced it, or you don’t.  After our legs became too exhausted to pump the swings anymore, we decided to take a walk down the beach. (Sounds silly, but different muscle groups are involved) It’s 10pm– in April. (I was wearing cotton shorts and a tee shirt and nothing else) But it’s April in NC; during a cold snap…the water isn’t as warm as the BF would like, but I am in pseudo-mermaid heaven! I’m splashing about up to my knees in the surf, when an urge struck me. An urge that I knew, without a doubt, if I did not revel in, I would regret ignoring for the rest of my life. I jogged back up the beach to where the BF is still being VERY patient with me and holding my keys and phone; very calmly stripped, handed him my shorts and shirt, and ran back into the water. No, my intention was not to have a ‘sexy’ moment, (those of you who have seen my whiteness can attest to that) to be silly, (although, I often am) or to prove anything. (I KNOW I’ve got massive brass ones) At that moment; I just needed to be naked, surrounded by my most natural habitat, with someone who loved me even though I was as completely vulnerable as I could possibly get. It worked for me. The undertow that night was horrendous. It was as if the sea itself was trying to pull me home. I kept my head about me though, and only went out up to my waist and dipped the rest of myself in. I made sure I had solid footing, and I am a DAMN strong swimmer with lifeguard certification. Please don’t panic, my lovely friends; and whoever calls my mother, gets shot. Fair warning. I only spent a few minutes in the water. I’m not crazy; I know I was flirting with hypothermia. It may have FELT good to me to be in the frigid cocoon of the sea, but the human body can only take as much as it can take. It’s been YEARS since I’ve done any kind of long distance swimming or conditioning. I was NOT trying to take home any ‘Darwin Awards’.  As I walked out of the waves, I must have had the biggest smile on my face, because the BF’s only question was “Feel better?” The only response I could think of was to kiss him like my life depended on it.   I slept better that night than I have in a long, long time.  **DISCLAIMER** Carissa does not support acts of public indecency in any form, trespassing, or swimming in ANY kind of hazardous conditions without proper safety precautions. Keep your heads people. You’re much cuter that way.

It’s been awhile since my last post, I know. Put down your throwing stones. I promised you all the full review of my night on the Stranger Things set, and here it is! 

I was having the hardest time trying to figure out who was going to take the lead in recounting the events of that night; Carissa the fan, Carissa the former director, or Carissa the groupie-blogger. The three aspects of my personality all had different views of the people/events involved. For example: the fan in me was majorly impressed with some of the actors and crew on set, the director in me was itching to make changes in blocking and give notes (sorry, Earl!), and the groupie blogger thought their behavior was funny as hell (make-up artists are great people). Keep in mind; all three of these reactions happened in my head simultaneously. Do you see my problem now? So I decided to write this blog from all three perspectives, blending them as I see fit, and giving the different views as needed. Sorry to disappoint those of you who are reading for ST spoilers, you won’t get any here. I’m too much a professional theatre girl for that. You shall get nothing from me, (even upon threat of torture), that Earl does not want you to get! For the most up-to-date info on Episode 4 of Stranger Things, visit www.strangerthings.tv 

The Arrival: I was only on the set as arm candy to Podcasting’s Rich Sigfrit, (hereto after referred to as ‘the BF’, it’s easier to type), and as an extra pair of hands for clean up after the shoot finished that night. I know this. I accepted my role on the drive out to the set. *Two and a half hours later…* So I’m going to check my ego, and admit that I have been out of the business of theater and film for quite awhile now and I could be REALLY wrong about some of my first impressions. (Keep in mind: my opinion is my opinion and in no way reflects the opinion of the masses. Disclaimer over.) Then again, the director in me has always had great instincts about cast and crew; so I don’t think I’m wrong when I say that my first impression of the ST set was total organized anarchy. In a good way. First thing I see on the set is Earl, gesturing emphatically with his hands for applause in sign language because he is pleased with an actor’s performance. Earl is not deaf, but used to be an interpreter. Earl cuts the scene, walks over exchanges quick hellos with the BF and I, and then he’s off to continue filming. The BF begins introducing me around, while recording isn’t happening, and catching up with the people he knows on the set. Meanwhile: I’m getting lots of: “who is this and why is she here?” looks. Not in a snobby way, which surprised me, but in a questioning way. I can understand that. The BF and I arrived late, and while the BF was recognized, and welcomed heartily, I was so very obviously out of place it screamed ‘Anomaly! Anomaly! Shuuuuuuun!’ Yet I wasn’t shunned. There were some probing questions, which is to be expected around actors. You can’t know if you don’t ask. *rolling eyes, oh how cocky! LOL* And one who immediately ceased speaking to me once finding out that I was nothing but ‘the help’ and ‘a girlfriend’, but on the flip-side of that coin: Some of the crew and the cast was so welcoming and polite I almost reconsidered my decision to get out of the business. I kid you not. While we were on set, the temperature dropped about 20 degrees. I was barefoot (my shoes were REALLY loud and I didn’t want to interfere with audio) and had the sleeves of my button-down shirt rolled up past my elbows because 40 degree nights in NC feel GOOD to me. I can’t count the number of people who asked if I was cold, offered me a jacket, and just generally inquired as to my mental health. That surprised me. It was very sweet. (And yes, the BF did the gentlemanly thing and offered me his coat too, but I was comfy. Deal with my weirdness.) 

The Process: In between bull sessions with the Make-up artist, several of the actors, and the set crew: I did what the groupie-blogger in me does best: I observed. Watching the filming was an exercise in control for the director in me. I wanted to crow when the actors did a great job, and smack them for petty squabbles. Earl’s directing style is similar to what mine used to be, so I didn’t have to actually FIGHT those urges much, as once I had them, Earl was saying it better than I ever could, and fixing problems in more creative ways than I had thought of. I was rather impressed with both his ability to listen to his crew and value their opinions, and still keep his “Director” hat on. It’s a fine line to walk, and he did it well. It may seem as if I’m stroking his ego a bit, and granted, he is a friend, but I respect him as a director. That takes a lot to get from me. Those of you who knew me in that aspect can nod and smile now.  

The Players: The grand majority of the people on set were way too busy to really engage with. Those that I did get to spend some time talking with, while gathered around the food service table, (if you’re looking for someone to talk to on-set, no matter how big or small the production: Find the food.) were rather awesome people. Conversation ranged from job experience *both in the business and out* to weight loss, to child care and the best way to build a wallet out of duck tape. *guess which one I had the most input on?* However, I was most impressed with watching a certain actor replay one scene over and over again. Unfortunately, he had to give his lines many times that night, as the scene that was being shot had several angles and actors in it, and this poor Cherub never wavered in intensity. He delivered time and time again without complaint. I call him Cherub because he really does resemble a stereotypical cherub on a greeting card. He kept up his character through take after take and I didn’t see Earl have to remind him about his emotional commitment to the role or his fervor once. Not to mention I didn’t see him complain about being cold, the long shoot, being on his feet for so long, nada. I can see some of you starting to ponder why I’m so impressed with Cherub. This behavior seems like nothing more than a professional actor doing his job on the set, right? Oh, did I not mention that this actor happens to be a scant 14 years old? I’ve worked with ADULTS; nay, supposed ‘professionals’ who didn’t have that kind of chops. And I made sure to tell him so that night. Kudos, Cherub. 

The Aftermath: Wrapping up the shoot was more exhaustive and actually, almost more fun than the shoot itself. It reminded me of ‘Strike Day’ back in my theater days. (Memory from Catsnow playing as background music in my head) All those years of playing Tetris really comes in handy when trying to get loads of equipment into ONE large van. The crew, the BF, Earl, and other random ‘hands’ really pulled it off in less time than I imagined though. I think we all did a spectacular job. We won’t talk about the MASSIVE bruise on my shin from the set of lights my dumb-butt self rammed into though. No. We won’t mention that at all… The best part of the whole experience was getting to spend some time just talking and laughing with the BF and Earl at a local late night diner over a plate of hash browns, and finding out that sleeping two people to a hotel ‘twin’ bed is an adventure in creative sleep-yoga! All in all, it was an exhaustive 36 hour trip, but it was worth it. I haven’t decided to get back into the business, as my reasons for getting out of it still stand; but it’s nice to be around it every once in awhile. Thanks again to the cast and crew of Stranger Things, I had a wonderful time and am really looking forward to seeing the final product!