Alison Barber

After last week’s post, which should have been titled “I AM BEING TOO HARD ON MYSELF BY THINKING I’M INADEQUATE”, a good, dear friend helped me remember the goodness of putting myself out there…

About a month and a half ago I was checking my email and found a message from an unknown sender sitting prettily in my inbox. Thankfully, it had dodged my junk mail, and there it sat, unopened, with its subject line reading “Looking for a lead… ” Intrigued, I opened it up like a bag of chips.

It turned out to be a message from a pretty reputable editor and director (Genie award winner- WHOOP) in the Toronto film industry who had randomly stubbled across my blog when searching for a casting director we both knew. I had mentioned the casting director’s name in my post about how I got my agent. You can read it here!

Anyways, this successful director was looking for a female lead for an independent feature film he was working on, he was kind enough to include the writer of the film’s name (seasoned writer for Canadian television- DOUBLE WHOOP!).

After reading my blog- yep, this ol’ thing, and checking out my bio and phots’, he wanted to offer me an audition, believing I endured a lot of the characters qualities ie) quirky, intelligent, independent.. not to mention FUNNY! And gorgeous! and a real pistol!

You can imagine my elation. First, so, so unbelievably flattered that he read all my bits, and secondly; auditions for film in this town are teeth-grindingly hard to come by, he wanted to bring me in on account of my bits alone. TRIP WHOOP! WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP!

The bummer side to this story is that my union status prevents me from working on non-union stuff, which sadly, this project is. And knowing how valuable time is in… LIFE, I was upfront about being an ACTRA member right away.

The director and I never met, but he’s asked to hold on to my contact info for future projects (Thanks Jim for considering me, I think we’ll share a laugh about this down the road…)

So see, friends, you never know. EVER. And frankly, I don’t think we’d want to. The only thing I need to know for certain is that life has a great sense of humour… sometimes the punchline is just late coming.

Just to cover my tail: if any other fabulously wonderful directors and writers are thinking of bringing me in for their fabulous projects, you can access all my acting info through Casting Workbook under Jean Parker, my stage name (geez, why Jean Parker is my stage name, well, that is another post all together…)

The internet is a powerful beast.. I’m wondering, if I randomly mention George Clooney in my blog, will he too, come knocking at my door…

On a muggy afternoon in the Dominican, in an attempt to soothe a fussy baby, John and I holed up in our hotel room with Charlie, the air-con on high and a Spanish episode of Scooby-Doo.

I was engrossed in the cartoon. First of all, I think it’s awesome they are still making ‘em, and though the Scooby gang still look the same (Velma in her itchy orange turtleneck and Daphne with her salmon coloured lips), the show is modernized. They do things like send text messages and play DS and Velma, Velma who can’t see a thing with out her glasses, has a blog for Pete’s sake!

But who doesn’t have a blog.

If you’ve stayed with me since my blog’s inception you’ve probably noted a gradual change in my posterly-content. (yes I made that up). I started blogging to build a platform for my children’s writing: “heck, I got a book published, I’m writing more of which I’d like to see in print, a blog would be a nice place where people could come and check me out, maybe learn a thing or two about writing for children, maybe read my picture book.” In the beginning, my blog had a content schedule, I posted three times a week and a bonus post on Sunday when I’d do a funny drawing or tell you about a trick I played on John. I would like to think back then my blog was refreshing, quirky and may I be so bold, enjoyable.

Well.. since having Charlie my life has.. well, how do you even describe it? But my writing-life is quiet for the time being, like it’s taking a nap. All except for this little blog.

I know that I often don’t have anything important to say, but I can’t stop putting my self and my stuff out there, you know? Every week it’s a reminder that I am still here.

So hey, pop some popcorn, come along for the ride if you’d like, or, if you’re more into blogs with important information, I could definitely recommend some fabulous sites. Velma, for instance, does a great little bit on solving mysteries.

Disclaimer: The bulk of this post was written last week when I was hot-mad at the school for taking advantage of my personal time. Since then, I have cooled down but I’ve decided to post it anyways. There might be something in it…

I have a little rebel in me. I don’t know if you know this but I do. I like to stir pots; especially when people aren’t treated fairly.

I once worked for a bank and was appalled to discover the staff didn’t take their entitled 15 min breaks because “well, we just don’t do that at our branch… management doesn’t like it.” Didn’t I, at the allotted hour, march across the floor with my purse tucked under my arm and go sit in the staffroom for 15 and flip through the flyers. I wasn’t interested in what was advertised in the flyers and I certainly wasn’t interested in eating the odd ball treats which accumulate on the staffroom table but I was making a point, leading an example for my lovely, slightly disgruntled, overworked and underpaid coworkers. That is what I do.

At all of the restaurants I’ve worked, I am the server who will demand being paid for staff meetings, argue the unfairness of having to pay for house errors and out right refuse the uniform; whether or not my face is painted and how high my heel is will not impede my excellent service! I will show up for work without a stitch of makeup and be wearing the most unattractive but extremely practical shoes and I will blow the socks off those diners. That is what I do.

Whatever your profession, your time is invaluable. INVALUABLE. Demand that it be respected.

Is it just me or does this pic of me next to James Dean not scream chemistry? Just saying.

Where I was last week… Introducing Mr. and Mrs. McAuley

(yes, that stunner is my baby sister)

If you are ever feeling anxious or overwhelmed and you need to ground yourself, think about your feet. Literally. Imagine what they look like in your shoes, picture each toe, how do they feel? Are they rubbing up against each other in your socks? What are they doing right now? Follow the arch of your foot with your mind, trace the round of your heel. Think about your feet.

My sister taught me this little trick, who in turn, learned it from her good friend Jake. You being my good friend, I felt obliged to pass it along…

Sorry for not posting last week, I was rebelling. More about that next Wednesday…

This is Abby. She is our six year old Great Dane. She loves popcorn, dog walks and sleeping under the covers. She’s pretty special.

The thing about Great Danes like Abby is they make GREAT messes. Like the one I spent over a half the day cleaning up… most of the time was spent thinking about how!? I was going to clean it up. I mean, it was pretty big.

I am sorry… I really did not intend this to be the topic of this week’s post, but like a child attracted to gross things, I find myself not being able to think about anything else.

But I will say, the other thing about Great danes like Abby is they have GREAT big hearts and will be one of your GREATEST friends, which makes the mess-part not so bad…

Nothing a shop vac can’t handle.

Instead of blogging this week, I spent my precious writing time working on a new picture book! Ha!
Do I feel guilty.. heck NO! (maybe just about the chocolate peanut butter eggs I can’t stop eating.)

As a side note; despite our cold temps, I have crazy spring fever. Anyone want to double-dutch? I’ll be waiting in Ajax with my ropes

Spring has sprung here in Ontario and there is something about the warm weather which makes me revisit past projects. It’s like I am defrosting my freezer as I rediscover things I have stored away for the winter months. What is that mysterious orange sauce with the thick layer of ice?

I have started doodling the beginnings of a picture book, I have picked up my french lessons once again “Les filles aller manger une crème glacée” and I find myself humming the lyrics of the song I’ve written into my children’s play…this humming will hopefully lead to some butt-in-chair writing. What about you? What’s in your freezer?

In actuality, I keep a pretty clean deep-freeze; besides the odd rogue blueberry or bread crumb, everything usually stays in its proper compartment and there is only one questionable tupperware.. I’ll bet five bucks it’s lasagna.

On Thursday I put my hair into a no-nonsense ponytail, tied up the strings on my server apron once again and read the blurred ink of a kitchen chit… am I back working in a restaurant? Not exactly..

I got cast in a Swiss Chalet commercial. I played the part of the waitress. As I drove to the shoot, I giggled thinking maybe it was all of those years I begrudgingly slugged food and drink around restaurants which got me this part. In casting, I instinctively cleared the table and wanted to offer the director a refill on his pepsi. Or I could have been cast because I’m thirty-something and my head wears a pony-tail well. Whatever the reason, I think getting this job is a testament that there is something worthwhile in every experience, especially if you are working towards a bigger dream. You might question the ketchup on your shoe now, or the pit-stains on your tee-shirt from the days’ hard work but if your heart is in the right place… Maybe my next job will be to play a waitress in a motion picture. Maybe.

(I hope she’ll wear pineapple earrings)

My love for John these days is overwhelming, my word to best describe the deep, knock-your-socks-off, fervid feelings which spontaneously come over me when I think of him. He is a good man. And I am reminded of his goodness through others, complete strangers even…

The other day I was driving on a congested Don Valley Parkway and a transport truck was rumbling its way onto the highway. Once a driver himself, John has a deep respect for truckers; backing a giant boom truck down a skinny alley way in Toronto is not an easy task. So John taught me to be respectful whenever I share the road with the big rigs, after all, it is way easier for a car to dip in and out of lanes, slow down, or speed up then it is for a big transport truck. Remembering this, I hung back and flashed my brights when there was enough distance for the trucker to safely move onto the DVP. John also showed me that when you show courtesy to truckers, they, in turn will thank you by quickly flashing their rear lights, like a wink. As John foresaw, after the trucker moved into my lane, he flashed his rear lights, and in this small gesture, I was flooded with love for my husband. He makes me a better person.