Webel Without A Blog

I told you I probably wouldn't blog for a while, and did I deliver on my promise or what? So much has happened since I last forced myself to sit in front of my computer screen and emit a coherent string of words. I have to admit, it's kind of difficult doing it now. But makes natural me mouth-words, so not to worry.


1. Settled into a new apartment. Yes, I'm here! I'm actually here! Or-- well fuck, I've been here for a month already. It's crazy. The place still feels super new, probably because we're still in the process of setting it up. Casey and I have gone on extravagant hunts to find the furniture and hardware necessary to make ourselves comfortable in our new home. We picked up a couple curb-couches and discovered that we have enough kitchen counter space to accommodate every kitchen appliance known to man since the 1980s. We went a surprisingly long time without lamps, and an even longer time without addressing the stacks of miscellaneous mail sitting out on my keyboard. Spoiler: the mail is still there. Since I know you're on the edge of your seat, I would also like to announce that as of today we have a coffee table! So come on over for coffee whenever you want and we will have a surface for you!*

2. Worked on a feature film. 2015 New Year's resolution has been officially HALF-ACHIEVED as of February. My goal is to PD a feature this year... maybe posting that on the internet will make me more accountable to it. Anyway, the whole thing was a fantastic happenstance. I was being interviewed for two different projects simultaneously, the stars seemed aligned, I felt like the prettiest girl at the prom... and then I got ditched by both.

[pig's blood added for dramatic effect]

[pig's blood added for dramatic effect]

This was a humbling moment, but one that lasted less than 24 hours before a PD from past projects hit me up:

"What are you doing now through the end of the month?"

"Nothing! JK lots of crying probably!"

"Want to be my props master?"

"Sure! Guess I should cancel my trip to Tijuana for illegal antidepressants! Ha ha ha!"

And so for almost 3 weeks I worked in art department on a feature film.

[rainbows added for historical accuracy]

[rainbows added for historical accuracy]

The only other time I've specifically been a props master was for a high school play, where my only job was to yell at people if I saw them touching the props I had not acquired and was probably more likely to break or lose than anyone else. Doing props on a feature was an interesting job for me. I was in charge of selecting and managing all the movie's props, which are essentially any item that is specifically called for in the script. Cigarettes, whiskey glasses, diaries... straightforward stuff. It did get a little more in-depth with the prop weapons. We had a prop gun and a prop knife set. The prop gun was treated like an actual gun, and I had to give a formal safety warning whenever we used it. It was through these experiences that I learned I do not know how to look cool holding a gun. I suppose that's why I'll never be a successful actor. The fake knives were a little more fun since we had a retractable, a rubber, and a hero.


Hero: The "real" or "real-looking" version of whatever you have doubles for. In the case of these knives, the hero was an actual knife whose blade had been dulled. That's the one that gets all the sexy close-ups. For scenes that involve the actual swinging and jabbing, we use the rubber or the retractable.

Retractable: A plastic knife with a retractable blade, used for making it look like you're stabbing the living shit out of someone when really all you're doing is lightly poking their belly fat.

Rubber: A rubber knife. And in European countries, a condom.

The movie was an overall fabulous experience with a cool/qualified crew, convenient location**, exciting cast (I'll never tell!), and lemon meringue pie. I learned a LOT from people who have been in the industry decades longer than I have. I was among the youngest crew members there. Not to brag or anything, but... I'm kind of a baby.

And I play with knives!

And I play with knives!

3. Became a different age. My birthday was on the 24th, and I spent it working 12 hours on a film set in Santa Clarita. I will say that if I had to be working on my birthday, it would've been there. So I lucked out. By that point in time I'd bonded with many cast and crew members, and the motherfuckers surprised me with an ice cream cake. They also bought me a pair of boxing gloves, for reasons I will never understand or question.

4. Got my spa on. Treat Yo Self 2015! After an exhausting two weeks of working 5:30pm-5:30am everyday, I formally wrapped myself on shooting by taking a birthday spa break to Grand Spa in Koreatown, which was... bizarre. I wish I could've live-tweeted the entire experience. When Casey and I arrived for our acupressure sessions, we were each assigned a locker containing a fresh warm bath robe and towel. We stripped down to nothing, put on the robes, and awkwardly waited in the lobby per the receptionist's instructions. Minutes later, a Korean woman literally took us by the hands and led us down three flights of a very industrial staircase. This was some Miyazaki shit.

At the third flight down we were escorted into separate dark rooms... they didn't even let us say goodbye :'(

Inside the room I disrobed, lay prostrate on a cushiony padded table, and for the next hour let a mysterious woman beat the shit out of me in a somehow medically beneficial way.


Butt massages > everything you've ever known

I left feeling ten pounds lighter and ten inches taller. I still have my suspicions that she was really just massaging catnip into my pores the entire time, but either way, it felt incredible.

And as if that wasn't enough, once the acupressure treatment was over, Casey and I had access to the rest of the spa, which included a steam room, 3 sauna pools, and showers. It almost embarrasses me to admit what a fascinating and empowering experience this was. Women of all ages and shapes were strolling about in the nude, just getting their soak on. Nobody made any effort to cover themselves with towels or hunch over with their arms wrapped around their torsos, which would be my first impulse in some sort of bizarre public situation where I suddenly had no clothes. The women weren't necessarily in-your-face about it either, being all like, "BITCH I'm an empowered naked woman! My boobs are worth as much as the Hope diamond! Each!"

Now, I've certainly grown up immersed in the idea that only super models are allowed to be naked. If you've got belly wrinkles or uneven tits or large areolas then you'd better buy a girdle or a mumu and leave the pool immediately. The sheer honesty and flat-out frankness of nudity in the spa was a kind of culture shock. This is how we should be regarding human bodies! Not trying to concoct some impossible all-encompassing beauty standard that "includes" the fat chicks and the moms with stretch marks... just drop all the compartmentalization tactics, kick it in your skin jammies, and carry on with your day. Even the act of willingness to be completely naked in front of an impartial (hopefully certified) stranger so that they can punch your back until it doesn't hurt anymore is a powerful thing. It does just a little bit to take the edge off the stigma of bodies and nudity. I had a profound experience in that 24-hour Korean spa.

5. Booked a new PD gig. Brang it! Very excited to continue doing this stuff that I love doing.

6. Did your mom. Boosh.


*Coffee not provided

**everything being shot in one mansion was convenient. Said mansion being 25 miles away in Santa Clarita, however, was not.