Big Country Blues Trailer

Big Country Blues Trailer
Sarah e Jacobs recognized as OUTSTANDING ACTRESS IN A DRAMA SERIES at LA Webfest! And nominated for BEST ACTRESS IN A DRAMA at ITVFest! Click to watch the trailer!

Sunday, June 26, 2011

I Said 27, Not 900.

I really need to get back to writing more frequently. At least at times like right now when I'm super busy and in any given day I see/experience so much ridiculous that it's hard to sift through when I finally sit down to write. Just today I said at least 10 times, "well there's one for the blog...."

When I left you last I was going to a callback for the Fringe show with my friend. I did not, in fact, get the part. I did well at the callback and I hear that I was in the final running, but in the end didn't get the part. In addition to the usual, "we've decided to go in a different direction" email, I also received lovely notes from both the producer and the director. A very nice thing. Majorly bummed about not getting this one, but I suppose it's good for me. A little disappointment fuels the fire.

I DID however, get offered the part in the other project and I accepted. I will be playing a sexually free, seemingly ditzy but undercover very perceptive girl in a short play in the Strawberry Festival. We go up at the end of July. So that's good! More about this to come, I'm sure!

I did some more flyering. I know. I know. I said I was done. But fact of the matter is that I'm not. I did cut back and I think with the pick up of tour season (it's getting very busy) I can limit this part of my life even more. The good news is that my sanity has remained intact during my shifts recently. Though, I have to say, now that our outfits are a bit more revealing in this warmer weather the bullshit we deal with is a little stupid. I counted in ONE two hour shift 7 men asked me if my phone number was on the coupon. And EVERY time, inevitably, they turn to anyone standing next to them (I've seen them even look for validation from strangers) and belly laugh and nod like they just came up with a quote worthy of citation. No type of man is immune to this disorder. I've seen business men, hot dog sellers, construction workers, cable guys, door men, once a man pushing the italian ices cart. A word to the free world...or at least to whoever is reading this blog...don't ask the question! I don't care if you're the man of my dreams, my number isn't on the flyer... and you aren't clever. K? :)

Thursday brought a private shopping tour. It was uneventful - the best kind of tour. Immediately when I got home that day I suddenly remembered: Inside the Actor's Studio tickets! I jumped up and got my run on BACK to the train. Got there just in time to see Jennifer Aniston be her likeable self. One important lesson from her interview: "find something to do in the mean time that you love. Because, until your big break, you'll be doing a lot of it." See. Even Jennifer Aniston agrees with my recent decisions...

Which reminds me - I arrived home one day looking like a bag lady (as usual) with my hands full of my various personas I had taken on that day when I tripped over a giant box in my lobby. I looked down and I swear the damn thing was glowing...It was from Institiute of Integrative Nutrition! I got my materials in the mail!! Somehow I was able to add it to my load and climb my three flights of stairs with a tear in my eye (some from the pain of carrying all that crap, but MOSTLY because I was so damn excited!). Now I just have to figure out how I'm going to structure my nutty life once school starts. A problem I am grateful to have. :)

Tour from hell on Friday. Itinerary was wrong. Appointment times were wrong. Lady left her credit card at a designer showroom (btw, she kept everything in wads in her jean pockets, and she was shocked when she couldn't find her card. Seriously? I mean...Seriously?). Just a hot mess. Then I had to run from there to an audition. It was one of those days.

The audition was funny. I had made a comment via text to the friend who recommended me for the part that I didn't think anyone in the room could drink legally. Turns out I was right, BUT I did meet some lovely girls in that waiting area. I was left with two of them at the very end and when one was in the audition room, a conversation with the other revealed that she's a sophomore in college. 20 years old. "Wait a min. How old are you?" She asked. "How old do you think I am? I won't be offended. Just want to know how others see me" (a very actory thing for me to say).

"My age. 20,21?"

"I'm 27." "WHHHHAAAT?!! No way! You are not!" was her response. I swear, based on the reaction, I thought maybe she misheard and thought I said that I was Yoda's age.

The other girl then came back and immediately the 20 year old said to her, "How old do you think she is??" with an enthusiasm I had yet to see come from her and a finger pointed in my direction. "My age? 22?" the girl answered. "SHE'S 27!!" Collective: "Whoaaaa!"

They sat there, mouths agape. Shock frozen on their faces. I'm not complaining. I mean as an actor this is probably a major asset. I just think it's weird. It used to be that people always thought I was much older than I actually was. I'm like freakin' Benjamin Button. Gonna milk that for all it's worth!

The audition went well. Everyone in the room was super nice and talkative. After resume scrutiny, I was asked to do my raptor impression. Again, I terrified about half the people in the room. I think one girl started crying. But, also again, no one's going to forget the girl that jumped off of furniture and contorted her face to look like a creature from Jurassic Park. No. One.

I had a callback for the part today. ;) It went well. So now I wait... and so do you.

(but hopefully not a whole week. Goal: mid week recap. Do it.)

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Here's Your Unitard, Try Not to Kill Anyone

Her: "You've got a choice between the one shoulder shorts romper and the backless unitard. Just remember that if you choose the unitard you'll have to go bra-less, but don't worry we have sticky-boobs for you. Change, and then go see Jim to get tattooed."

Me: "Right... I'm sorry. Did you say 'tattooed?'"

Some jobs you just gotta get through thinking about the pay check at the end of the tunnel. I donned the outfit, the airbrushed bat tattoos, the four inch heels and the slutty smile for 8 hours Monday night at the liquor sponsored concert. The whole time I paced so as not to stand in one place and allow the throbbing pain in my feet to set in. The people at these events are always a trip. The ones attending and the ones working. While I did meet some really nice girls, I also met some pretty terrible ones. It's always the 12 foot tall, 90 lb model bitches that are a problem. Halfway through the shift the tall bitch in question sauntered by with a freakin' mojito in hand, flashing an "I was too good for this job, anyway" smirk in my direction and entered the sea of degenerates. I was pissed. I wanted to strangle her with her own lanky limbs while force feeding her a cheeseburger...But I refrained.

We ended up being let go a little early because people were so drunk we were useless. Turns out you can't let a 21 year old bridge-and-tunnel set loose on an open liquor bar without expecting mayhem. Fights, throwing up, people falling over. I've never seen people try so hard to form a sentence and fail so terribly. In the end, I was felt up only a few times and once was by a group of lesbians, so they barely even count. The things I do for money. But, I feel like you can't call me a sell out until I start hooking. (and in case you were wondering I picked the shorts romper. "Sticky-boobs" simply didn't appeal to me at the time...)

This week: I gave some tours. I handed out some bullshit. I ran stairs at a bootcamp (FML). I also unveiled...wait for it...the NEW WEBSITE!!! Sarah-e-Jacobs.com My good friend Patrick designed the site with a little help/neurotic-requesting-of -details from me. My main contribution was, "Can it be girlier?" So major thanks go out to him, for a sweet website and for putting up with my craziness and still calling me a friend at the end.

The auditions I had this weekend went fairly well. The first, on Friday night, was for a show in the Strawberry Festival here in the city and was written by the Assistant Director from a show I did a hundred years ago. It went well, I did my monologue and called it a night. Went home to sleep in preparation for the audition the next morning. It was oddly liberating being home before 9pm on a Friday night. (I ended up being called back for this audition, which was great! It was Sunday afternoon and I read with many different combinations of people. So now we wait and see!)


The next audition was for a Fringe Festival show. I would be playing opposite my dear, patient friend from the paragraph above. It would be amazing to be reunited again, but this time doing something worthwhile and of merit (there was a major jab in that last sentence, and it was totally intentional...just for the record.) And, IF I were to get the role, I could get back to comedy which I miss so much.

The monologue I have wasn't super appropriate to the character, but I tailored it the best I could and moved on to the sides. Did it once through, took some direction, and re-read with a different approach. I left the audition completely indifferent to my performance, which kinda sucks. I have no clue how I did. I felt no reaction in one direction or another. I guess it's good I didn't feel negatively, and I did get called back for a second round tonight. This is awesome, but I wonder how much of that has to do with the fact that my friend is in the show. Either way, a little nepotism never killed a person, and I plan on attacking the callback tonight and leaving with a clear sense of how freakin' fantastic I was. So take that.

I'm hoping to have big news in the next post about some upcoming project I'm cast in. Wouldn't that be lovely? I've been itching like crazy to work again. It was a nice break, and necessary for all the other developments in my life, but I'm over it. I need to jump into a role again. It's time.

Wish me broken appendages and a week absent of tiny outfits, slutty smiles and grabby lesbians.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Shit

Love that word. If I'm ever graced with James Lipton asking me my favorite curse word, that's what I will say. So simple and so versatile. Example:

I woke up Tuesday because my stomach was eating itself (it's a pleasant feeling I wake up to frequently now that I make sure not to eat anything in the hours before I go to bed. Getting skinny is so fun!). I looked at my phone and, "shit." It was 5am and my alarm was set for 6:20. Damn you, stomach. Damn. You. I made a little nosh, sat down to some emails. Next thing I know, "SHIT!" I jerk awake. Fear, panic, heart slamming against my chest. 7:11am.

Text boss. Pants on. Hair up. AC off. Mascara on. Door closed. Tap toe. Check time. Ride train. Run. Sweat. Arrive. 7:41am. "Shiiiit...." Annnd the day continued on from there without much improvement in luck. A coffee disaster and an accidental ham ingestion were involved. Sick. And, for the record, both of these situations also warranted some version of the word "shit." Great word.

Thank God my week improved. The staged reading with PlayClub went well. For those non biz peeps let me explain about a staged reading. It's kind of like seeing a play in the middle of the rehearsal period. We hold our scripts, but walk through the play and act it out. As an actor, I have to tell you, it's an interesting experience. All I want to do is throw down my script, jump into the story, connect fully with the other actors and sink my teeth into this person I'm playing. But, I can't. At least not to the extent I want to because... oh right!... I don't know the lines. You lose some of the connections. And for me it's like snowboarding (without the ass bruising, cursing, and 7 year olds passing me on the slopes). All I wanted when strapped to that effing board was to move my feet independently - free up my legs. In a staged reading I'm confined in much the same way by the script on lock-down in my hands. That being said, the reading did go well. Our audience seemed to enjoy it and my scene partner and I found moments that we hadn't felt before. Which just makes me want to do a fully fleshed out performance even more. Love that.

More promo shifts followed. At one of them I was surprised to find out upon arrival that I was expected to make the smoothies I was sampling. After some condescending words from the manager about being "capable of operating a blender," I'm not gonna lie, I had a slight diva moment. " Umm...Sir? Capability aside, I sample the food. I don't make it." Oops. But, eventually I sucked it up got down to blending. By the end of the day my hands were covered in fruit slime and I smelled like the produce department at Publix. So hot. (well I must have been, because the much older manager asked to take me out for drinks at the end of my shift. Turns out he likes his women a little sassy and smelling like mango). My life is ludicrous.

Also ridiculous, but ridiculously awesome: I got a last minute invite to the Tony Awards Rehearsals. This was A-MAZING! I haven't seen hardly any shows this season because I CAN'T AFFORD IT! (Can I get an "amen" from my actor peeps out there. Ticket prices are seriously stupid.) So, it was an awesome taste of the nominated shows. And it was such a nice reminder of how much I love theater. My body has a visceral reaction to the business going on onstage. It's like a string is sewn to my sternum and it's tugging at me. Wow. I sound like a theater nerd. But I just can't help it. I'm not meant to be an audience member. Me or Cassie from a Chorus Line. (The Music and the Mirror, anyone? ...Anyone? Terrible theater joke.)

Anyhoo, I've got a few auditions I'm pumped for this week. Friends basically got me in the door of these, which is great but also adds just a bit of pressure. And among other jobs, I've got a particularly ridiculous one coming up this week (the things I do for a paycheck). I'm a little concerned about the outfit I'll have to rock, but I couldn't pass up the money. I know the situation is getting dire when I pass a gentleman's club, the door guy asks if I need a job and two blocks later I stop short to consider it. I mean I have been wanting to get back into dance...

...P.s. Just kidding, Ma. I mean this story did actually happen this week, but you'll be happy to know that I didn't go with my initial impulse.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

NYC: A Potpourri.

Well, Spring is in full force which means that the Hipster Hilarity that is Williamsburg is in full swing - but not how you'd think. They come out of the woodwork fully decked in the usual flannel, skinny jeans, boots and beards still abound. I had no idea that checking The Weather Channel was so uncool until I moved here. They even sunbathe in the full get-up. And I'll be damned if the people don't sweat. It's a mystery. We all know the secret isn't botox - not unless the green market started doing sessions in McCarren park (I might be onto something: Complementary shots of local wheat grass...with a chaser of brooklyn lager...) Anyway my 'hood has become quite the scene. A mix of Hasidic-curly-cues and too-cool-for-school-clashing-patterns. The streets are a veritable potpourri.

I must say, the Williamsburg bridge has become a welcome escape from city life, though. I can go for a run and look onto Manhattan from afar. From that distance the sprawling buildings look downright manageable. Then I run back, get harassed by young Orthodox Jewish boys (one kid tried to trip me the other day. I stopped dead, stared him in the eyes, pointed my finger, and said very menacingly, "rude." ...I'm such a badass...), and through the quaint streets of BK back to my waiting schedule of random.

As much as I talk smack about the mess that is my piecemeal living (this week was another medley of promos and tours), a lot of times I am beyond grateful for the random acts of work that make up my life. Friday was no exception. My day started with a mad-dash sprint for the overcrowded L train, followed by a face-plant/trample combo on the stairs to the NQR (turns out hipsters stop for no one when there's a train to catch. I was road kill.) Then there was the squeeze between violently closing train doors that led to a scolding by the conductor that I was "holding up the other passengers." But, the adventure ended with a lovely couple of British fifteen year old girls on a surprise Soho shopping tour.

They had no idea what to expect, but their excitement and giddy energy from getting their make-up done and from my pulling outfits that would look "stinkin' cute" on them (they cracked up from my "vaaary Amaaaarican" way of speaking) turned my day around faster than a NY minute. Say what you will about tourists, but generally hanging out with people that are on vacation is a fast-track to a pretty good mood.

Friday night I had a reading of a play that's in consideration for production this fall. It was a fabulous time spent with some friends. I got to read a fun part: an 18 year old, pregnant, poetry student, with the favorite half word, "Whatev". It was our first read and we sat around laughing and gasping as the play revealed itself to us. I hope that production comes to fruition, because if it was that fun for us on the first read, I can only imagine how much an audience would enjoy it. Then Saturday night brought another reading of a new play in which I was the forgotten character of....Stage Directions! I gave quite a thrilling read, you can imagine. ;)

This week brings the new and exciting task of continuing my Nutrition Fundamentals web classes (more pre-course work. Love!), and a staged reading of Stop Kiss with The PlayClub on Wednesday. Of course this is all mixed in with the usual promos and tours.

...In between I'll navigate the streets of Williamsburg and Manhattan dodging inappropriately dressed hipsters, yarmulke-clad-children and treacherous subway stairs, while scoring cups of coffee, auditions and smiles from happy tourists. It's a video game I'm developing: "NYC".

Simple title, not so simple game.