Hippy Bathday!

It's December 27th. You know what that means. It's time to become bright eyed and bushy tailed as I remember that, some time ago, my mother went to the hospital because of expansive food poisoning and came out with a baby.

December 27th also means that my good blog friend, writer of The Good Badger and recent accomplished Appalachian Trail Thru-Hiker Zach Davis, will be celebrating the same thing. Hopefully his parents were expecting.

(I'm just kidding. My mom knew.)

There are bound to be an influx of first time readers today, in which case: Welcome to Smile Big and Pretty. Here I write comedic essays and accounts of my life as I try to become a successful actress.

Speaking of which, I seem to be well on the way. My demo reel is now up and running, I had a great role in the film the just got accepted into Sundance, and now I'm getting interest from some of the biggest talent agencies in the Atlanta.

I am so, so, fortunate for the friends, connections, and relationships that I have made throughout the past year.

Since you're here, why don't you check out some favorite past posts? Here are some of my favorites  throughout the history of Smile Big and Pretty:

1. The Summer Serial: This is what started it all. It also spawned a one-woman-show version of the same story. You should scroll all the way to the first one.

2. It's like standing up for yourself - only with animal waste: Some asshole decided he had the right to treat a friend and I badly. I literally found his shoes and  filled them with ferret crap.

3. Casino Queen: I used to work at a soda museum. I subsequently got fired for writing about how funny it was that I worked at a soda museum. Among the variety of odd jobs I found to make ends meet? Dealing blackjack at holiday parties. I found it through Craigslist, the job board of champions.

4. Marshall of the Fitness Center Parts 1 and 2: I eventually found a job-job working in a 24 hour fitness center. Unfortunately, the owner was a misogynist who experienced untold pleasures by making little girls cry. Yeah, that didn't last. Scroll all the way down for Part 1.

5. A day in the life of an extra, as told by Catpaint: I extra'd once. Never again. I feel that everyone should do it at least once - the same way I believe everyone should wait tables for a stint in their lives. It's humbling if you are at all serious about what you do. Thank god for Catpaint.

6. The Scarlett's Web Video Blog: Dad's Garage Theater Company produced this delightfully gory take on the story of Charlotte's Web. I was able to work with an amazing cast, crew, and puppets! I miss it so much.

7. Things you think about when you're on the way to Louisiana to audition for a movie: I auditioned for a film and found out that callbacks were a few states away. Did that stop me? Hell no. Did I get it? You bet I did.

I have way more stories on here. If you like what you see, please share! I love new readers. And I'm always cooking up funny stories.

Here's to an upcoming year of writing, unwasted opportunities, gigs, friends, and general tomfoolery and happiness.

I have a feeling that this year is going to be a good one, you guys.

Merry Christmas from SBAP!

Things that make me happy: Pictures from the Suzi Awards

When it comes to theater, Atlanta is its own little universe. It has its own theaters, directors, and  actors. With the exception of one or two theaters who have room in their budget to hire talent out of New York, the majority of the Atlanta theater bubble is self contained and hyper-local.

It also has its own annual awards show, The Suzi Bass Awards. It's like a little version of The Tony's. I got to go this year because I took park in a show that scored some nominations and, as a result, was invited to perform an ensemble number.

Moment of honesty #1: I was scared.

Moment of honesty #2: I became less scared when a random actress who may or may not have been hammered but apparently works a lot plunked down beside me, handed me a flask, and said, "Here. You should drink this."

With that said, here are the event pictures from The Suzi Awards:

SBAP Throwbacks: Jas's High School Journal

"There is a pigeon in my freezer."

At fourteen or fifteen years old, you never stop to think about how you may want to look at yourself down the road with a (god willing) healthier and more mature perspective.

My friends and I kept a number of online journals from middle school all the way through most of college. Then I went off to college and found myself entrenched in a relationship with someone who found misogyny hilarious. Within a month of moving in, I was told that I had two options: I could either delete any and all traces of an online presence - or be homeless. I had pretty much lost any real sense of autonomy by the time I received that particular ultimatum and deleted everything with little struggle - including a journal that held five years worth of constant writing and documentation of what I thought, felt, loved, and hated. Dark times. 

The thirty day recovery period came and went and I assumed that my writing had dissipated into cyber nothingness. A year later, when circumstances changed and I no longer had to answer to anyone in particular, I logged in for shits and giggles. It was still there; all five plus years of myself. Safe!

But oh how the weary road we travel takes its toll! We want young women to emerge from the clutches of abuse with enough anger to stay out, but not so much anger that they obliterate their brains and remaining sense of honor night after night before coming-to, half dressed, at the bottom of an empty swimming pool with a pulled thigh muscle and a sore ear. Even worse? Documented. It was all documented from the perspective of a crazy person. I deleted my journal again. Except this time, the company actually purged it from the servers.

A few days ago, I found myself with an hour to kill and a hankering to do some reflection/research for a script I'm writing.
"Man, I wish that journal still existed," I thought.
Then it hit me.
"Holy crap," I thought, "there is still one out there."
When I was in the tenth grade, I had created another account using an email address from a domain that went defunct. A few rushed keystrokes later, I stared at the last remaining sample of my writing. It had the same goofy layout. Same color scheme. Perfectly preserved and untouched for years. And though it's only a short snippet of my life, it does contain the dated thoughts, reflections, and answers to such poignant questions as,
"If your life had a movie montage, what would the accompanying song be?"

Without further adieu, here is a fair representation of of what 16 year old Jas was like.

#1.

"We have a dead homing pigeon in our freezer. Mom found it in the yard today. It has a ring from Australia on its right leg and a ring from Athens on its left. So mom picked it up out of the yard, put it in a bag, and put it in the freezer."

#2.

"That pigeon is beginning to freak me out. I had completely forgotten about it when I went out to the freezer to get a box of girlscout cookies, and that damn pigeon fell onto my feet and scared the SHEEYIT out of me.
Why can't she take it to the zoo or something? Honestly, it would do the Animal Society of Athens more good than in it would our freezer. It's not like I'm going to eat it anytime soon."

#3. 

"I'm still bombarded with visions of that damn pigeon. That pigeon, with it's weird almost nonexistant eyes, that pigeon with the stiff legs and that smirk that says,
"I'm on top of your girlscout cookies and you have to touch ME before you can touch them!"
That pigeon that should be somewhere in athens other than in my freezer.
That pigeon that was too stupid to avoid whatever it ran into, that PIGEON, that is dead and in MY FREEZER."

#4.  

MarJas: I'm uber tempted to take that pigeon out of the freezer and throw it in the yard for the lightning to strike.
Throwingmyself4: hehe
MarJas: seriously... that pigeon made me scream earlier
Throwingmyself4: why is it in your fridge now?
MarJas: it's in the outside freezer
MarJas: mom found it in the yard
MarJas: it's a carrier pigeon with tags on it's feet
MarJas: she said, "Someone might need this." So she put it in a baggie and put it in the freezer
MarJas: and when I was getting something out, it FELL on me and I screamed
Throwingmyself4: i would secretly throw it out
Throwingmyself4: or read the message, than throw it out
Throwingmyself4: or bury it
MarJas: there wasn't a message, just tags
MarJas: I'm not venturing out to the freezer in the storm
MarJas: I'll leave a note:
"Mom,
Take the pigeon out of the freezer to thaw and put it in the ground.
-Jas"

Why did I think that thawing the pigeon would make any difference?

Inside an English Egg, part 2.

"Do YOU know how to FLUSH the TOILET?" I had asked. 

After five rounds of toilet flushing, I took a minute to cool off and drink some water as they reset for the next shot, thinking, "This must be how DJ Lance feels whenever he tapes an episode of Yo Gabba Gabba."
My slight obsession with Yo Gabba Gabba occasionally treads that fine line between slight and super, leading me down dark, twisting paths where songs like, "I'm so sorry!" cross over with Biz's Beat of the Day. It's a riveting state of mind and it all came crashing down on me when I felt a subtle poke on my shoulder.
"Who-za-what!" I gasped, jumping up from my spot in front of the refrigerator. The director jumped back as well, equally as surprised.
"Sorry!" she said, muffled by her hands.
"No," I said, fanning myself, "No, it's ok. Are you guys ready for me?"
She rested her finger on her chin once again and said,
"Um. Um. Um," she furrowed her brow before turning to the bathroom and yelling, "Jebal dorawa juseyo!"
The translator ran out to me and said,
"We need to you to stay out here for a little while. We're just going to work with the girl right now. So you can rest!"
"Oh." Rest? Was over-inflection more taxing than I had originally thought?
A beat passed as we akwardly looked at each other.

I sat in silence on the couch and listened to the ticking of the clock as it lingered longer and longer with each passing stroke. From the other side of the wall I heard the girl yell,
"I can flush the toilet!"
Tick. 
"I can flush the toilet!" she said five seconds later.
Tick, tock.
"I CAN flush the toilet!"
Tick. Tick.
"I can FLUSH THE TOILET!"
Silence.

When the translator called me back in, the little actress's head had been dotted with toothpaste, soap bubbles and other remnants of a morning routine.
"Is funny," said the director, "because you say, "Look Mommy, I can get ready all by myself. But you can't, not really."
It was funny- for all those reasons and more.

-

"So," said Miss Tracy's boyfriend as we were wrapping and preparing to leave, "What did you think?"
"I mean," I replied, looking for the right words, "obviously this is one of the greatest days of my life."

Inside an English Egg: Part 1.

I have this friend who is a celebrity among South Korean children from well-to-do families. For the equivilant of eight hundred US dollars, South Korean parents can buy their children a box of books, videos, and role playing toys that feature my friend teaching their child to say key phrases like,
"Yes, I can!" and, "Hi! Hello!"

They call her Miss Tracy.

To the best of my knowledge, children simultaneously love, fear, and revere her image. I heard that she signed autographs at a promotional event and one child was so overwhelmed by her presence that he lost the ability to speak and sought refuge in between his mother's legs.

When I saw that Miss Tracy was going to Seoul to film some of the educational segments on location, I thought,
"That's so awesome. I wish I could do that. I have always wanted to be able to tell people that I ate silkworm larvae."

This thought made another appearance when she returned from her trip and posted pictures. The joy and slight envy subsided and life resumed its normal fashion - though I did lie and tell someone that I had eaten silkworm larvae not once, but twice. I reasoned that I would probably never get the opportunity to go to South Korea and, therefore, deserved that one small luxury.

This past August, however, Miss Tracy alerted me that she would be helping English Egg film some new segments in Atlanta and that I should forward her my headshot and resume.  A couple of months later, she said,
"Congratulations, Jas! Koreans love you. You're going to be playing a mom. I have attached a script for you to study."

A week later, I was shaking hands with the director and her translator and waiting patiently as they figured out how to tell me and the actress playing my daughter what to do. Miss Tracy was not present because she had another obligation to tend to, but her boyfriend was acting as production coordinator in her stead.

"What do you mean she is going to be sitting on the toilet?" said the girl's real mother when the translator explained that the scene entitled, "Great job!" would entail her daughter flaunting her mad flushing skills.
The director blinked and then looked to her translator. They conversed some more and the director stepped forward and pantomimed flushing the toilet and said,
"Look, Mommy!" in a bright, cheery voice.
"That's all she needs to do," said the translator, "Flush, put her hands in the air, and be proud of flushing the toilet."
I turned to the girl and asked,
"How old are you?"
"Nine."
"Well, that's a good age to be able to flush the toilet all by yourself," I replied. I stuck out my first and said, "Pound it."
She enthusiastically bumped fists and said,
"Wow, you talk really cool!"

After the director and her translator had established that the little actress would be fully clothed and the toilet seat would be down in every shot, they seperated us and explained our blocking. From outside the bathroom, I heard the director say,
"You say, then I say. Then you say."
I could hear the little actress say, "Ok," and understood it to mean, "I actually have no idea what you are asking from me."
"O-kay. Ready?"
"Yes."
"Look, Mommy!"
"..."
"Now you say."
"Look, Mommy!"
"Mm," she said, putting her finger on her chin, "No... Like... LOOK, MOM-MY!" 
It was as if cute, animated emoticons should have erupted from her mouth instead of actual speech.
I appeared behind her and made a big, over the top face and used my fingers to make spirit hands that erupted from my ears.
"Watch me," I mouthed. Then I dashed back to my starting spot before the director had time to turn around.

"Rea-dy?" she asked. I gave her a thumbs up sign.
"Oh-kay," she said, "Go!"
I took three steps, leaned into a bathroom, and with the enthusiasm of an entire season of Yo Gabba Gabba squared to the power of three and said,

"DO YOU KNOW HOW TO FLUSH THE TOILET?"

My demo reel is here!

Guys. GUYS. Check this out!

Jas Sams [colon] Demo Reel from jas_a_frass on Vimeo.

We're going to Sundance.

I had this funny piece about an English lessons video that I did for Korean children, but then something happened that made me post this to Facebook: 

"I was fortunate enough to work with some wonderful, awesome, creative people on a film back in September. I'm not sure what I can/can't say, but I know that I can say that it was my first major role in a film and .... drumroll:

It just got accepted into Sundance! 

How awesome is that?! I wish I knew the word for Congratulations X 1,000,000,000 to everyone involved. Because that's how I feel. We're going to Sundance, you guys."


Holy cow, you guys.