New Nickname: The Sandpiper

We look eerily similar, non? Flying over the turbulent waves.

No one can say that this girl doesn't wipe out with grace.

We just had our last few days of surfing with the Zekester and the time has come for us to send him home. In honor of the Big Z, I'm posting a few more surfing pics.

He is my Master and I am his Padawan. After much encouragement to "channel your inner tiger, kid!" I finally came to realize that he meant Crouch, girl, crouch! I'm not sure if I accomplished the crouch or if I'm just bootylicious, but it worked.

So, you can have him back, Peppy! But take good care of him for us and remember, he's just on loan to Behind the Couch Productions.

For now this is Sandpiper, signing off.

Skydiving, tigers, or new house?

Well this post is mostly for family & friends who care, but also for those rare psychos who just can't get enough gossip about the St. James family.

Our new home... in 3 weeks, anyway.

MSJ and I got thinking about what we could do with our take from the Java Quest commercials and after seriously considering a wild run of skydiving over the Andes and tiger baiting in Sumatran, we discovered that if we combined our incomes we could move into this lovely place seen here.

Gas fireplace in livingroom, door leads to back porch

Without a moment's hesitation (wink, wink) we signed on the dotted line and we'll be moving in just 3 weeks. (I vomit a little in my mouth every time I say that. 3 weeks is not much time. I should be packing, not blogging!)

Part of the backyard

The house is just beautiful. It's exactly what I wanted. It's on an acre of land, bordered by woods, giving me lots of room for my organic herb garden (because that's how we roll). It's brand new and has been landscaped by the builders. It has a sprinkler system, which is perfect because I'm lazy. It has hardwood floors, an over sized garage, and fancy ceilings called... something that I can't remember or google, apparently. The center of the ceiling is recessed. It's not domed, but it's similar to a dome. Here's a pic. The lucky reader who identifies the name of this type of ceiling wins my respect.

Formal dining room. You can see the glass on the front door--so pretty!

But the crowning glory of this house? It's this studio! Now this room is absolutely cozy and charming. I had a great many plans for this room when I first saw it, but alas! My planning was all for naught. MSJ won the studio after a vicious game of Rock Paper Scissors and now he plans to fill it with movie posters and "modern feel".

Second floor studio that will soon look like Studio 54

Well, now you know why I'll be so busy the next 6 weeks. I dread the work, but I can't wait to live in the house. If you want the address, contact me.

"When in doubt, paddle out"

The Big Zeke and me

The Zeke is in town and that means surfing. Morning, noon, and night surfing. The man is tireless when you put him in the water. He's like a favorite nephew of Neptune or something.

That's me. It feels something like flying.

I wanted to throw some pictures up on the blog while he's still in town. He's the only true surfer amongst us. The rest of us are just mullering around while it seems that he can catch any wave and ride it until he runs out of ocean.

I'm not sure if I was getting up or coming down in this one.


I used the long boards on this particular day (Zeke was nice enough to share his with me; the other one I "borrowed" from Sendai without asking. But Sendai's still in Africa, so... someone should be using the board, right?) It turns out that I am a long board surfer. I lack the infallible poise and supernatural center of gravity that has blessed MSJ. The long board gives me time (and room) to step, step.

Purling!

I had a few wicked wipeouts, but nothing like last time I went surfing with Zeke the day before Thanksgiving and fractured my nose. That sucked. Here's a great picture of my surfing prowess. For those non-surfers who visit my blog, I'll explain. Do you see how the nose of the board is under water? That's not good. That's called purling. And do you see how I'm trying desperately to throw my weight to the back of the board (ineffectually, I might add)? Yeah, that didn't work. This picture was taken seconds before I went head first into the wave.

I'll miss you, Z-Man!

I forgot to mention the green screen

It was the most fascinating part of the day, as neither MSJ nor myself have ever worked in front of a green screen. And now that I write that sentence I'm forced to admit that one of us still hasn't worked in front of a green screen (me).

I never realized just how hard it would be to film in front a green screen surrounded by nothing but your imagination. And MSJ has a great imagination. He has the best imagination. Did you see Finding Neverland? That's like life with MSJ; we're always in another world of make believe. Another analogy for you: If men are from Mars and women are from Venus, MSJ is from Neptune. All nebulous, intuitive, dreamy surrealism. (Some of you will get that and some of you will think I've been hitting the wacky weed. I can't play to all audiences... because I'm from Pluto.)

Anyway. Green screens. So, Mike St. James & Alison Cook had to stand on what used to be a loading dock in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of an old refinery, surrounded by green, and imagine being in a lush jungle surrounded by Mayan ruins. The imagining is something MSJ can do. But what if the picture in your mind doesn't match the picture in the director's mind? Or the CG wizard's mind? Do you just look like a fool? And I would be terribly frustrated with no physical parameters. Still, I can't wait to see how it turns out.

The last picture is demonstrating that "on location" isn't always glamorous. Thank God for my umbrella man, right? ;)

Java Quest

Cast of Java Quest

The quest for good coffee begins this summer in a town near you and ends with... me.

This summer you'll see me as Maya, the gas station attendant with the best darn coffee this side of the Andes. I was acting, for the second time, with the fabulous Mike St. James. He and his costar Alison Cook had to leap from chairs into the scene as I swirl around with perfect grace to hand them a steaming cup of joe. I was flawless. I was like Ginger Rogers, I'm telling ya. Mike & Alison however? I mean, how hard it is to "jump on 3"? Really, people. [/snark]

Working with your spouse--good idea or exercise in stupidity?

I thought I'd get around to blogging on the filming of the commercials, but two weeks have gone by and I just haven't worked up the chutzpah to do it justice.

The crew was professional. The directors were inspiring. They had staff who's entire assignment seemed to be escorting us under umbrellas to the cars waiting to chauffeur and bringing us coffee and snacks. I have to say the guys at United Refinery did a great job taking care of us. I can honestly say I've never been treated so well on a set. I will also say--while I'm blossoming with honesty--that I didn't mind the umbrella/coffee/carry my stuff thing. Not for one day anyway.

My transformation begins

Make-up was amazing. This woman did a fantastic job on everyone. My only moaning was that I didn't look like myself at all. Really. I wouldn't have recognized myself. The first person who saw me when we returned from the shoot was my own mother who said, "Oh you scared me! I didn't recognize you." And then my little sister Carolyn who said, "You don't look like you. Are you okay?" (Ah, family! What would we do without it to keep us humble?)

See the make-up? Mrs. St. James is under there somewhere.

The only hitch was that my wardrobe, which had been special ordered, wasn't ready. This will explain why you see me in these pictures wearing my comfortable--and wrinkled--oversize shirt that's perfect for road trips while the rest of the cast is in full wardrobe. What's a woman to do? Send someone to the mall, damn it! One lucky crew member got to go on a quest of his own for appropriate clothing for me. He came back with brown. I like brown. All was well.

"Location" for me ended up being an old abandoned warehouse where they built an absolutely amazing set. Honestly, you could have set up shop in there and never have known the difference. But lucky MSJ got to film in the attic of an old, creepy warehouse-converted-to-studio (I would love to have explored) and the orangutan exhibit at the Erie Zoo. It was a brilliant location -- looks just like Mayan ruins.

Creepy warehouse location, courtesy of Ed Bernik

Do you know how it is when you go to the zoo and you look right at the apes and they just ignore you? They won't look at you even if you're right in front of them. They'll just sit there or put a bag over your head or something? Well, I learned something that my biodiversity classes never taught me. Those apes are exhibitionists. The apparent apathy is simply a ruse. If you put black screens in front of their glass to control the lighting for, let's say, filming a commercial? Suddenly those bored-looking apes are sedentary no longer. They'll swing around, knock on the glass, try to peer around the screens to see what you're doing, and perform unimaginable antics to get your attention. This was my daughters' favorite part of the trip. Orangutans.

City Boy has a point... I guess

There is an ongoing discussion between me & Mike St. James about what is better, the vibrant and energetic city or the peaceful and pastoral countryside. MSJ can't get enough of bright lights and big cities. He loves to be in the center of the action, a crowded club, or throng of people making their way down a city street.

Now for me, give me nature any day. I prefer tall trees to tall building and the gentle hum of nature to the noisy chaos of the city. I like to walk barefoot in the grass. I love Mother Nature and she loves me. Most of the time.

I have a favorite meditation & prayer spot right at the edge of the woods under a willow tree. It's a perfectly peaceful and shady place where I like to sit in the grass and be alone with my thoughts (or sans thoughts, as the case may be). As luck would have it, I'm not the only creature that likes that spot. Apparently a tick didn't want to share his piece of earth and bit me on the leg. And it would seem that I'm particularly sensitive to this type of tick because I now have a swollen, red patch on my leg that's larger than my hand.

So will I give up my favorite place in the shade? Not a chance. I will, however, be wearing a new pair of ankle length yoga pants the next time I do my Ohms.

Walt Whitman:
Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling,
Give me autumnal fruit ripe and red from the orchard,
Give me a field where the unmow'd grass grows,
Give me an arbor, give me the trellis'd grape,
Give me fresh corn and wheat, give me serene-moving animals teaching content,
Give me nights perfectly quiet as on high plateaus west of the Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars,
Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturb'd,
Give me for marriage a sweet-breath'd woman of whom I should never tire,
Give me a perfect child, give me away aside from the noise of theworld a rural domestic life,
Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my
own ears only,
Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal sanities!

Simply Complicated

Sometimes things just don't come out the way you intend. This post isn't quite G rated; by the time you're done reading you'll know exactly what makes me blush and what Mike St. James has to do with bisexual swingers. So read on if you dare!

Our story starts with the innocent subject of sand volleyball. MSJ and I enjoy playing around, we're both athletic, and lo and behold! we discovered that there's this great bar with about a dozen volleyball courts, not to mention music, horseshoes, a tiki bar (I love tiki bars!)--the place is like a playground for adults. Long story short, MSJ started contacting some of the cast of Raven Rock to see if they'd like to form a team.

But since we also like to play together, Mike thought he'd ask Greg Frucci if he'd like to play 2-on-2 with us. The trouble was that we didn't know if Frucci was married or single. This is an exact copy of the message MSJ sent to his co-star.

[Subject:] Personal Question

Are you married, or do you have a girl Frucci? Just wondering if we could
play a foursome with my wife and yours.You don't have to answer this if you
don't want to bro.

Now, what would you think if you got that email? Probably exactly what Frucci thought... that Mike was propositioning him for something a little more complicated than volleyball. Thus begins my humiliation. Do you see how I'm implicated in the whole mess? I can just see their faces at the next cast party. "I didn't know she was that kind of girl." I can only hope that this has upped my magnetism factor. Surely I'll be at worst an oddity and at best, can I hope for femme fatale? A siren temptress?

But here's where the story gets really funny. Frucci is the sort of actor everyone looks up to. MSJ really respects and admires him. So, MSJ gets a reply from Frucci that can only be explained as the kindest rejection I've ever heard. I won't post his response (do we really need to dig a deeper hole with this man?) but the gist of it was Hey, thanks, I'm flattered, but no thanks, man. To really drive home the absurdity of MSJ's original message, Frucci ends his message with, "whenever you wanna play some v-ball...hit me up." I've got to hand it to Frucci; he knows how to let a man down gently.

Of course MSJ wrote back with a quickness and explained what he had meant to say in the first place. But who would believe that? If you were Frucci, wouldn't you be thinking Yeah right, boy! You're just saying that because I turned you down! I know I would.

So now it seems that all of the confusion has been patched up and the only thing left hurting is my pride (I haven't blushed this much since high school). And when you hear the rumors about the St. James's and how we swing like that, you just nod and say, With enough tequila and volleyball, a man will do anything. I've found that wagging your eyebrows helps this go down smoothly.

Talyor August: Man of Many Talents

Don't ask my why Tay August and Mike St. James decided to do their own photo shoot, because I can't think of a plausible reason myself. Tay played the photographer, considering that he's the artist. MSJ played the model, considering how much he loves to be in front a camera. ;)

These pictures are the end result of 6 hours spent goofing around on a Wednesday evening. Yes, they probably should have been at Actor's Anonymous. Perhaps they should have spent the evening rehearsing for the Raven Rock filming that's going on this month. I guess this is what happens when you get two young, artsy guys, who have no "real" jobs, together with a camera. (C'mon, guys! You know I'm teasing. Of course acting is a real job. Ahem.)

And when I put it that way, I'm here thinking, "It could have been worse." So much worse.

So, to Taylor let me say: Great job, man! The pictures look fantastic. You were able to capture a James Dean aura last night.

And to MSJ, let me say: This shows your versatility. It's not the mood you usually convey but it's evidence of your progression as an actor that you can step out of your own skin and give due justice to something like this.

The time of times...

David the Film, movie poster

Such a dramatic title, Mrs. St. James!

That's the song I'm listening to right now. The Time of Times by Badly Drawn Boy. It fits my mood perfectly. Do you ever have a moment and know that this is "the" moment? It's the singular, quintessential something that you'll never live again. We had a time of time moment Tuesday night and I'm still in that place of wonder that the Universe has conspired to bring us delectation and hand us a heart's desire.

Tuesday night was the official premiere of David. To see my husband and my daughter on the movie screen, together... I don't really have words for the moment. But it really came home that they are in fact actors when I saw a theater full of people, all eyes on MSJ, laughing at the funny scenes, relating to him, pulling for him, and applauding wildly when the film was over. I know I'll see both of them of on the big screen again and again. But no time will be like that time. And I don't think I'll ever quite get used to it. To me, he's just my Mick. My zany, boyish, charming Mick.

So today I think I'll just bask in it. I'm going to hold on to this time of times with both hands and not let it go. Thanks to my family and friends who are so supportive and at least pretend to be interested in our little theatrical adventures. I'm delighted that you want to share our times with us.

It's time to get out there, North Carolina!

The day has arrived! In a state where primaries often come after the presumptive nominees have been decided, we have one heck of an exciting election season this year. Governor, Lt. Governor, Treasurer, Senator, and that all-important Insurance Commissioner, not to mention that there are still 4 presidential hopefuls running in this race. Now I don't care if you want to Barack the Vote, or help a fellow woman break through that glass ceiling; or if you have a deep streak of Libertarian pride and want a true change, or if you support a faithful and experienced war hero--just get out there and do it!

We'll see you at the poles!

A New Baby in Our Family

That's right! We are an aunt and uncle all over again and we couldn't be happier! A new cousin for our daughters to play with; the next tiny baby to snuggle; the next little one to be thrilled by Christmas lights and fish tanks.

My little sister just had a son, Mason Michael. She's not saying which uncle he's named after (he has 4 that are named Michael), but we're just going to assume he's named after MSJ and spoil the heck out of him. It was so nice to get to cuddle a tiny baby again. It's easy to forget how very small they are at first.

Welcome to the family, Mason!

And congratulations, Carolyn. I'm so proud of you!