This next story is a secret, so I changed the names, the location and everything but myself.

  Once upon a time there was a background performer named Melicious.  I work on film sets, commercials and tv shows.  Though I am just a measly little extra, I am determined to make every experience on set a good one.  So I pitch in, tidying wardrobe and fixing hair.  Desiring each project to be as great as it can be.  Sometimes, I meet famous people. National figures, actors, musicians and directors- cool people.  Sometimes, I get to spend time with them face to face and when that's the case it's very close.  (For those of you who don't know a whole lot about the film world, there is usually 10 people on set at any given time; say a wardrobe person, 5 lighting guys, hair and make up, assistant directors etc, to help keep shooting on time and looking good) This past weekend little Melicious was working with a very special woman- to remain nameless (as I signed a confidentiality agreement, not because I am not dying to tell you who it is) as I sit across the cafe table from her I notice a hair on her blouse.  It's a white blouse and a black hair, so I make the international sign for "Hey you've got a little something- right there" which she doesn't understand and asks me to "get it", so I do with a sweeping gesture.  Happy with myself I sit back down to get this scene in the can (film term for finished). Action! The director starts calling out directions on how she says things, how fast she says it, where the emphasis should be....ad nauseum.  As we are shooting, she turns her head and I see a hair sticking off of her lower left cheek. Oh no! A black hair stuck to a light face. A black hair- dancing in the oscillating fan's breeze, taunting me...The director finally yells Cut and I make another gesture "Hey, there is a giant black hair stuck to your lower cheek, it's right there...Please get it!" to which again she doesn't understand and gestures for me to get it.  So I do. It's attached*insert rueful head shake
.  This giant black 2 inch cheek hair has been attached to her face all day. They have been shooting since 6:30 am and it's now the last scene of the day and I am the first to discover this? You gotta be kidding, the hair person didn't see it? The makeup person didn't see it? The camera operator? The 10 people staring at the monitor DIDN'T see it? WTF! Holy Miley- you gotta be kidding.  Me! Melicious, I am the one who tries to prune this Super high profile woman's face fern?  It's not in my job description and we both know it, and now I have to sit here, for the rest of the day knowing that I tried to pull a hair off her face and it's still there. That taunting SOB, Roddamn it! It's hard to lower your profile, once you've become the failed face plucker. Sad, stupid little extra- keep your hands to yourself!

   So that's my true, but unprovable story.  I think it is finally time that I take my Hubby's advice: Stop plucking people's hairs- ear, cheek or nose.  And I've tried but I just can't.  It is a horrible addiction.  And I mean honestly, wouldn't you rather know that you have a column of hair growing from your face? The one part of you that is literally facing forward? How are we going to think you can take care of anything... if you can't take care of your follicle farce?
 
 Now, now I know what you're saying....WTF! I mean how is that possible? How can you mistake one for the other?  Well it's easy: (Please just go with me on this one, otherwise I am going to be in a lot of trouble)
  My hubby has a doppelganger, not in the typical sense of the word, but a doppelganger none the less.  This man is the personality mirror of my Hubbby (notice the capital, and by association the importance).  They like the same things the same amounts. They talk about the same things just as much, if they were to battle, it would never end as they are equal.  Here's where I get into trouble... After 2 beers I attempt to assimilate the two boys like twins, and further to my chagrin, as the 1988 hijinks classic Twins, assigning Swarchenegger to the doppleganger and Devito to my husband, in hindsight, not the most diplomatic choice, although if they were remaking the movie and both men were auditioning I would assign them as such.  My husband jumping to the understandable conclusion that Devito was the lessor twin, which I adamantly contest and still do.  Swarchenegger/Devito is a delicate balance of ying and yang, one cannot exist without the other but both are truly unique.


Let's talk Swarchenegger/Devito pro-cons:
1. Swarchenegger was governor of California- yeah yippy skippy, a figure head really
2. Swarchenegger was Mr. Universe- yeah but only for his body in 1967
3. Married 25 years to Maria Shriver, still couldn't keep it in his pants.
4. Oh and I am gonna guess on his way to broke, now not real life broke, but famous person broke.

1. Devito has an Emmy a Golden Globe, and thriving career and production company
2. Married 30 years to Rhea Pearlman and still married...

I guess you get my drift honey, Hubby, love of my life, I would rather be married to a Devito any day of the week.  And I am glad you are my Danny. :)