Two weeks ago, I thought to myself, hmm... I'd like to be an actress. Subsequent thoughts told me I was too old, needed to lose 10 more pounds, too stuck in Longmont. Despite them all, I found myself applying to be an extra in a film, even in the midst of great emotional turmoil last week. The night before, I couldn't sleep, but I felt my heart becoming more and more excited, as though it was anticipating something well and fine on the horizon. The next morning I arrived late to the set, disheveled, in a dress from the wrong time period and praying only for God's grace. While lining up for wardrobe, an angel, who wasn't so well put together himself, selected me out of the crowd and asked me if I was free later. I said of course, emphatically (I wasn't). He then told me that I'd be the "script supervisor." Confused, I still signed up for the job... wondering why such a large film wouldn't have such a crucial position filled. It took hours for me to receive clarity on that, but something I learned stayed with me, "Have patience." I was kept out of all scenes with extras and whisked away to a basement makeup artist from Los Angeles, Julie, and hairstylist, Andee. The power went out during my styling, and I ended up hating my hairdo.
To be continued...
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