Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Beautiful Day

I was out walking the dog this morning. The air was damp and warmer than usual for this time of year. It’s in the low 60s and it was amazing to be able to enjoy the outdoors without a scarf or gloves or having to hurry my dog through her peeing rituals because of the ghastly wind. I took in a deep breath and looked at the sky. It was overcast, which was probably why it was so warm. The clouds insulated our city, keeping the temperature bearable, even, dare I say, balmy. The trees were all grey and brown, with no leaves to speak of. I looked right as I stepped into the street, making sure it was safe to enter the traffic. My dog had done her “business” faster than normal (par for the course on a nice day- she takes eons when it is bitterly cold), so I could take the walk back to the apartment at a more leisurely pace.

It is amazing how nice weather can bring out all types of people into the public. People of all ages were sitting out on their stoops chatting. As I walked down the street I heard at least 4 different languages: English, Greek, Spanish and maybe... Portuguese? Little old men and ladies with their overcoats swallowing them up were walking, carrying plastic bags filled with knitting. Or oranges, perhaps. I see one such woman across the street, and I pause to enjoy watching her run her daily errands. Blue hat, glasses, couldn’t be younger than 80. I wondered where she was coming from and where she was going. Did she live on my street? Was she, like my landlord, living in the same home she was born in? Did she have children, or was she all alone this Thanksgiving? She looked at me, and I could see by the glint in her eye that she wanted to say something. But instead, she lowered her eyes... and hawked a loogie on the sidewalk.

Dog Bless America.

PS: Have you ever wanted to type a phrase like “hawked a loogie” but realize that you have no fucking idea how to spell it, even though it is phrase slammed into psyche from the time you were in the 3rd grade? Try looking it up online sometime- you get all kinds of interesting returns...

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Cats vs Dogs = LOVE ?

Ok, so just follow me along this stream of consciousness...

Dogs typically offer an overabundance of enthusiastic, affectionate love and you always know how they feel about you.
Cats typically offer the type of love that says, “Of course I love you. If I didn’t love you, I would have run away by now. So, let me nap, why don’t you?”

Men tend to prefer dogs to cats as pets
Women tend to prefer cats to dogs as pets

Men, in love, tend to act like cats
Women, in love, tend to act like dogs

Does this mean that because men prefer dogs, that they want unconditional love that they don’t have to work so hard for?

Does this mean that because women prefer cats, they want the type of love they always have to work hard for?

And if all of the above is true, did my last relationship end because I had a dog and he had a cat?

Temp/PA Update

Employer: Giorgio Armani. Position: Sales Assistant. Tasks: pour through hundreds of order confirmations to make sure that what was shipped to the stores was actually what was ordered.

Job review: Pay could have been better but I got to work in a quiet office with a gorgeous view of the Empire State Building. Also was allowed 1 hour for lunch and could have coffee at my desk.

Job rating: B+

Position: Personal Assistant. Tasks: Reorganize home office, which included cleaning off entire desk and categorizing everything on it, then creating a system for where everything will go. Completed job with label maker.

Job Review: This is the first step to assisting my new employer with her at-home business. Her stunning loft in right in the middle of SoHo, which means I’ll have a great time window shopping when I get off of work.

Job Rating: B+

Friday, November 18, 2005

Life as a Temp/PA

I just got hired as a part time personal assistant (PA for short) for a female entrepreneur who needs someone to organize her life and help her with marketing odds and ends for her business. She is also passing along my info to some other people who need help in case I want more hours/money. Can I tell you how excited I am??? She completely supportive of my auditioning needs, and I think a job with this much task variety will keep me from getting bored. I am also temping, which is fun all on its own. Between those two jobs and the theatre I am pursuing, I plan on being pretty busy in the coming months with some crazy projects. That being said, I want to keep you updated on what it is like to fight for a living wage while pursuing acting in The Big Apple. Surely the stories will be plentiful, filled with hi-jinx and near fatal misses. So in future blog entries, keep your eyes open for little updates on what tasks my two bosses (temp and PA) are having me do.

Peace out, homies.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Things to do in the days before you turn 30

- Sleep. A lot. It would suck to conk out during your birthday party. The “over the hill” jokes would never cease.

- Look through your old yearbook and imagine all of the popular girls as now being fat mothers of 4.

- While looking through said yearbook, do NOT allow yourself to think that everyone in it is married but you. It is a choice, dammit.

- Become unemployed. It is really important to go into your 3rd decade with few to no prospects.

- Figure out how old you’d be in dog years: that obscenely larger number will make you feel better.

- Go online to find out how many hot celebrities are over the age of 29.

- Honor your love of “Glam Rock,” Nerds candy, Twin Peaks and classic Nintendo.

- Contemplate everything you thought you would do in your twenties, but haven’t, and mentally shift that list to your thirties. C’mon, it is socially acceptable for a thirty-something to want to leap frog through Central Park.

- Oh, god, I just said thirty-something. Wasn’t that a show in the 1990s about old people?

- Abandon “Things To Do” lists. They... uh... inhibit spontaneity. Yeah, that’s it.

Saturday, November 5, 2005

I Love Auditioning (not)

Yesterday I celebrated 3 months living in New York, and today I went to my first New York audition. It is for a musical that was produced on Broadway in the 60s but has been rewritten and is receiving a showcase production in January. I sent in my headshot & resume to the director several weeks ago (per the submission requirements), and received an email shortly thereafter inviting me to audition. Yippee! In the email, the director outlined what he was looking for:

“Please prepare a one-minute monologue that will show you off to your best advantage.  I want to see and hear YOU, and a longer monologue will not be necessary.  If you are right for one or more of the roles, you will be called back at a later date to read from the script.  There will be NO singing auditions until a later callback.”

Imagine being called in to interview for a job, but receiving instruction like this. Seemingly specific, yet open ended enough to cause extreme anxiety. I needed to find out what role I might be right for so I could show the same part of “ME“ for the audition. Did they want to see the girl-next-door ME, the good-girl-gone-bad ME, the timid school girl-but-vixen-underneath ME-- which ME did they want??? So, I did some research and found that I am right for any one of 3 characters, 2 of which will be played by the same woman. This poses a problem, as I want to be considered for everything I am right for, but I cannot possibly portray 3 different personality types in the same monologue. ARGH!

It is at this point when I start to think that maybe I should not go to the audition at all- beg off with some lame excuse about emergency surgery, or a death in the family, or my dog needing to have her teeth cleaned. You know, something they would not dare to dispute. As a last ditch effort, I go back to my repertoire of monologues to see if there is anything that would remotely work for this piece. But nothing I have is quite right, except my comedic monologue about Santa Claus being on trial for sexual harassment by one of his reindeer (a favorite around Christmas-time). However, the audition is being held in a church and there is some foul language in the monologue and I don’t think that being struck down by lightning is in the cards for me right now. By now it is Thursday and the audition is Saturday and time is running out to memorize something new. So, I have a choice to make. But, I am too chicken to make it then so I decide to wait until Friday.

On Friday I think about the frustrations of being a performer and not knowing what the director is looking for. But then I remembered that, duh, I am a director too. And what is MY thought process when I, as a director, hold auditions? Well, in the first 10 seconds I decide if the actor is good or not. And if s/he is good, I then try to figure out what roles I have that they would be good for. That’s it. I don’t think about what type of monologue they have selected, or if they are wearing the right outfit, or if their resume is on 30# paper.

This revelation is a breakthrough in rational thinking! I head home immediately and pull out my monologue repertoire- I find the monologue that is the most ME and hope that it is still memorized. By Dog it is! It is now Friday afternoon and the audition is in 24 hours, and I can feel confident that I will do well! I will persevere! I am excited and cannot wait until the audition arrives!

Well, I spoke too soon because I think it is written in stone that an actor should never go into an audition with confidence. Ever. Friday night/Saturday morning I was plagued with ”actor’s nightmare“ dreams- ones where I am in a play but I have no idea what the character is or the play is, but I am on stage and the audience is waiting. Another where I am at a callback and all of the other actors have their audition materials memorized but I haven’t seen them and director thinks I am horribly unprepared. I woke up with a sense of dread. Should I do this? Maybe I can just sleep in, but it would be bad not to show up. Darn it. I have to go.

Other than accidentally getting onto an un-airconditioned subway car and having uncomfortable shoes, the ride to the audition was uneventful. I got to the church, signed in, and waited among 5-6 other audition hopefuls. We didn’t look each other straight in the eye, but looked just past each other mumbling our monologues to ourselves. Had an outsider looked in, they would have thought we were possessed people waiting to get excised.

I finally get called into the church hall to do my audition. The room is massive and I am asked to stand up on the pulpit to deliver my monologue. Those who know me know the irony of this. I shake the hand of the director, who is the only one watching the audition, and walk up onto Dog’s stage. ”This is it,“ I thought. ”Make it or break it. Move it or lose it, and all of those... other cliches...“ Just as I turn to start to deliver my speech, I hear a noise from the floor of the church. I peer to the back and cannot believe my eyes. ”Oh, I hope you don’t mind,“ said the director. ”They are doing a bit of cleaning.“ There, in the back of the church, was a man with a vacuum cleaner. A very LOUD vacuum cleaner. ”Just project, dear,“ said the director. “I’ll let you know if you need to speak louder.“

All of the preparation, and fear, and uncertainty, and sleepless nights, etc, etc, etc, and the moment is shared with... a vacuum? I started to laugh. I haven’t laughed that hard in a really long time. ”No problem,“ I said. ”I always liked improv.“

Well, the monologue went just fine. And I got a callback. For the lead role. So, if anyone asks if acting can exist in a vacuum, you can tell them, ”I don’t know, but I know it can be done in the same room as one.“

Yuck Yuck Yuck. =)

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