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, December 16, 2012

Out Come the Santa Claws

“Are you okay?” the station agent asked me with a very concerned look in his eyes. “Do you need help?”
I smiled, laughed a bit. “I swear. I think I'll be okay.” I managed, as I wiped a bead of sweat from my chin.
I must have looked like I was battling the black plague. I was lugging two huge bags, my hair was stuck to my forehead, and drips of sweat poured down my cheeks falling onto my loosened scarf. I felt the flush of fever on my face in harsh contrast to the cold chill of NY on my neck. People were staring.

I was miserable. The morning rush hour foot traffic streamed about around me like ants; I was the disruptive foot in the middle of the hill.

I got my ticket and settled onto the Metro North train. Peeled off layers of clothing and sat in my undershirt, soaked and panting, as my body worked to break the 103 degree fever. The past few days had already been a comedy of errors consisting of my receiving the wrong date for a job, waking up at 6 and schlepping to Grand Central, only to find out I ACTUALLY needed to do the same thing again TOMORROW.

I was supposed to arrive up north “camera ready.” I had visions of them horrified at the sweaty-mess imposter that showed up in place of the girl whose headshot they saw a few days earlier. I imagined them holding up the picture, glancing at me looking like a drowned refugee, back at the smiling picture, to me with the plague, to the picture...

Luckily my body pulled itself together by the time I got there, and with a lot of hand sanitizer and Advil I made it through the day filming a local commercial for a car dealership. “Tell me about financing...”

I've now been battling this flu-situation for over 5 days. I've canceled plans and auditions, been unable to attend parties, essentially slept my way through the last full week/weekend in the city before home-for-the-holidays. Oh, but not before slopping together a Christmas party that I had planned for weeks and was unable to cancel after I misjudged how long this illness would linger.

I have tried to remain positive. I've smiled, and joked, and mustered energy for most of this bullshit sickness. I've been witty and upbeat as I laid in bed experiencing some odd mix of shivering and sweating, with my body aching and a thermometer perpetually protruding from my lips. But, it's official! I am OVER it.

F*ck the Flu! Just f*ck f*ck f*ck it.

I LOVE CHRISTMAS and, I have to tell you, the white lights and angels I had in mind for this time of year are a little different from the kinds one sees from her death bed. I have yet to decorate a tree. I have yet to sip tea at a holiday market. I have yet to wander the city taking in the freakin' holiday spirit with a goddamn hot beverage in my hand and the smell of warm f*cking nuts in my nostrils!!!
I'm kinda in a mood...

BUT, I have glimmers of hope that I will pull myself out of it. I've read articles about good people doing good deeds, I've found some great gifts online, I've painted my nails in true Holiday fashion... This week, I will make an effort to douse myself in some f*cking Christmas cheer if it's the last thing I do. ...which it may be since this fever may ruin me like Beth in Little Women. (spoiler alert: the bitch dies.)

Happy Holiday season! Seriously. I mean, Christmas dinner this year may consist of scrambled eggs with a side of Tamiflu, but dammit it will be served on a freakin' snowman plate.

Ho. Ho. H-bleh.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Sarah Does December.

Saturday morning. Here I sit. In bed. Make-up from yesterday still smooshed across my face, looking like a three dollar hooker on a Tuesday. Surrounded by the remnants of my manic life - Highlighted scripts, vitamin bottles, articles of clothing, books, water bottles, odd Christmas wrapping strewn about my room like a I fled suddenly and could pack only what I could carry. In truth, this week nearly killed me and my hot messiness was last on the list of things to address.

It was one of those test weeks imposed by the universe to see if my sanity stands up. I was multiple personalities, changing intentions left and right, up and down. Morning to night playing a different character every few hours.

It all started last weekend with The Gate Agent. I was flown to Pittsburgh to film an ethereal short film in which I played some creepy weird love child of the Angel Gabriel and Dexter. 

told ya.
The hours were long. Very long. But at the end of the marathon weekend, I was at the airport unloading my bag from the producers car when he handed me an envelope.
“Here's your paycheck.”
I know I must have looked a bit odd in my moment of hesitation, but I honestly felt like I was stealing from this man. It's quite a feeling to make money doing the thing you love the most. Payed to be my creative, nutty self for a fun filled weekend surrounded by interesting people in a new city. You're kidding, right?

On Set. With Writer- Mike Smith, Director Damiano Fusca, and Actor Amadeo Fusca

More! Please! (...just thought I'd boldly put that out into the Universe...)

I came home to business meetings on Monday (after a hiatus for my partner's honeymoon we were PUMPED to get back into the swing of things. Lots going down these days!)

Then it was full speed ahead for the next days of 4:30am wake ups, odd jobs, shopping tours, pop up auditions and call-backs. I would run from “Young Mom Selling Blanket at Garage Sale” to “Unintentionally-Insulting, Jilted Potential Lesbian” to “High End Shopping Concierge” to “Scarf Peddler at Fancy-Schmance Cocktail Party” to “Health Guru with a Potty Mouth” to “Plain Old Sarah attempting to have a Social Life” to “Psychologist Talking Tourist Out of Body Image Meltdown”...the list could go on. I subsisted on Protein Bars, Green tea and baby carrots this week. ...with some fancy-party leftover Cipriani Salmon thrown in the mix.

In a convo with my Father, I think he summed it up pretty well, “Sarah. You get yourself into some shit.”
“...yes, Dad. Yes, I do.”

That being said, as the week came to a close, I stood on my beloved L train on my way home from a date, with my feet aching so badly I thought I may fall over, surrounded by tipsy, mustachioed hipsters ...and my heart was full. I mean, sure, along the way I spilled coffee all over my face, was proposed to by a potential gang leader, was unaware I was supposed to be in the midst of horrible depression in an audition and went in as bright and chipper as a cheerleader at Nationals. So, it's not to say I didn't have hiccups along the way, however, I did not do a single thing this week that I didn't love doing. How many people can say that? 

I worked like a dog running from opportunity to great job to opportunity.

I'm lucky. I may not know my ass from my face at certain moments, but the goal all along has been to fill my life with things that I love. Those things have changed along the way and, Lord knows (and you all do, too, for that matter) I've adapted. But last week, as I sat through a chemo treatment with a good Actor-friend of mine, whose life has taken unexpected twists and turns, I was completely impressed and in awe of her spirit. It's one that only comes from having passion. And I want that. Constant re-invention, learning, DOING.

I don't want to get overly cheesy and my goal is not warm anyone's heart to the point of vomit inducing. But I'm a happy camper over here. Exhausted and beyond enjoying these pajamas and this bed and this cup of tea like my puppy-nephew Lincoln enjoyed Thanksgiving: 

but a happy camper. 'Nuff said.

...well almost 'nuff. Other news!!
I was cast in a show this week, also. Details to come!


I'm gonna be an Aunt! My full, official title will be “Fun Aunt Sarah.” (FAS for short, according to my brother, so that it leaves the F up to interpretation... he's a delight. :)

You may not know this, but I have a fear of Pregnant women. It's nothing personal, and I know it's not's just the whole thing kinda creeps me out. I mean how does this happen?! ...I mean, I know HOW, how's just so weird! I spent Thanksgiving with my sister-in-law occasionally grabbing my hand and sticking it on her belly to feel the alien...I mean baby, kick. I would respond with desperate whimpers and, “Mom! Ugggh. Mom! She's making me touch it!"

...but, truth: I have a new found obsession with baby stores. I can't stop. I'm gonna love the crap out of this kid. ...not that it will need any help with that.

So, here's to December! I'll raise my lower calorie, vegan Nog to a productive and celebratory month of awesome. 

So far, so good.